“Do you think someone is in there?” she asked. She shook with fear as she waited.
Rogan shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”
Dylan strode out of her apartment and walked towards them, a grim look on his face.
“No one is in there, but the place has been trashed.” Dylan pulled her close against him.
Rogan looked grim. “Iker.”
“Bastard,” Dylan said.
“He’ll deny it, of course,” Rogan said.
“How bad is it?” she asked.
“Pretty bad,” Dylan told her. “There isn’t much worth salvaging. Wait out here and I’ll see what I can do.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m coming in.”
“Tilly, there really isn’t much that they left intact.”
“It’s just stuff,” she said with more bravado than she felt. “And they may not have found my jewelry box.”
“You hid it?” Dylan asked.
She nodded. Although she’d prepared herself for a mess, Tilly couldn’t help her gasp of dismay as she walked into her apartment and saw all of her belongings smashed or ripped to pieces.
“Lucky, I didn’t have much stuff,” she said, as she picked up the photo of her and her brothers. The frame had been destroyed, the photo ripped in two. She put the ripped pieces into her bag.
“I’m so sorry, a mhuirnín,” Dylan said.
“My landlord is going to be furious.”
“How did your neighbors not hear anything?” Colm asked.
“Mrs. Sinclair works long hours and there is no one in the other apartment.”
“Don’t worry about the landlord right now,” Dylan told her. “I’ll take care of all of this.”
“Thank you.” She really didn’t think she could deal with this on top of everything else. “Umm, my jewelry box. It’s in here.”
She walked into her bedroom and pushed the bed over a few inches. Colm nudged her out of the way and shoved it right over against the wall. She gave him a small smile before kneeling and pulling up a couple of the floorboards.
“I noticed these were loose when I first rented the place and I figured it would make a good hiding place. My jewelry doesn’t have much financial worth, but I have some sentimental pieces.” She pulled out the jewelry box. “I guess Iker’s men saved us from having to search through everything else.”
Opening the box, she pulled out her jewelry. Most of it was just costume stuff.
Once it was all lying on the floor, she turned the box upside down and shook it. Nothing.
“There’s nothing in here,” she told them.
Dylan took the box from her, running his fingers around the inside. “I can’t feel anything.”
Rogan inspected her jewelry.
“What’s this?” Rogan picked up a large ring, holding it up. There was a large, clear stone in the middle and it was surrounded by smaller stones. He walked over to the window, holding it up to the light.
“That was my grandmother’s. It’s fake and a little gaudy, but it’s all I have of her.”
“I don’t know that much about jewelry,” Rogan told her. “But I don’t think this is fake.”
“I got it appraised after my grandmother died for insurance purposes. It’s only worth a few hundred dollars.”
Rogan studied the ring which did seem to glisten more under the light. “I’m sure Aedan knows a jeweler. Let’s take everything back with us just in case.”
***
Dylan paced up and down Rogan’s living room as the jeweler inspected Tilly’s grandmother’s ring. Aedan and the jeweler had been waiting for them when they’d returned.
Dylan checked the time, resisting the urge to hurry the old guy along. He was all too aware of the hours ticking away, and if Rogan was wrong and this ring was fake then they were back to square one.
Tilly glanced over at him and he smiled at her reassuringly. The anxiety on her face eased a little, but he knew she was just as worried as he was.
“This is no fake,” the man finally said.
“It’s not?” Tilly asked, sitting forward.
“No, ma’am. These are real diamonds.”
“But I had an appraisal done four years ago,” she said. “They said the stones were fake. I wasn’t going to sell it so I wasn’t really worried. Are you saying they lied?”
“No.” He shook his head. “This ring has been tampered with. It looks like someone took out the fake stones and replaced them with real ones.”
“How much is it worth?” Dylan asked.
“Well, the setting is cheap. This band is only gold-plated. So the only worth is in the stones. I’d say close to one and a half million.”
“Holy moly,” Tilly said, her eyes wide.
Dylan shook his head as he stood behind the jeweler, placing a finger over his lips. She gave him a small nod to say she understood. They didn’t want the jeweler to know what was going on.
“Well, now we know where the Vipers money is,” Aedan said as he returned from walking the jeweler out.
“I can’t believe I had over a million dollars in my jewelry box this whole time,” she said in shock. “What if I’d lost it?”
“You wouldn’t have,” Dylan said. “That ring means a lot to you and Cabeza knew that, that’s why he replaced your fake stones with those real ones.”
“So now we give the ring to the Vipers and they don’t come after me?” she said.
Dylan frowned. “But that’s your grandmother’s ring.”
“Not anymore,” she said sadly. “He ruined it. It doesn’t matter. What matters is getting the gang off my back. They’ll leave me alone now, won’t they?” She gazed at Rogan in worry.
“I’ll make sure of it.” Rogan took the ring and placed it inside the ring box the jeweler gave them. “I’ll put this in my safe and get Brandt to set up a meeting with Iker. He won’t bother you again.”
Dylan had no doubt that Rogan would get Iker to co-operate. Especially if the jeweler was right about the ring’s worth. It was considerably more than they were owed.
“I’m so glad it’s over. I can’t believe that Javier did this.”
“Bastard knew that you loved that ring and that you would keep it safe. He was just biding his time until he got out of jail and could retrieve it,” Dylan said.
“Until your friend told the Vipers that Javier was cheating them,” Rogan added.
“It still doesn’t feel right, you know. I wish I could just talk to her.”
Dylan was afraid that she wouldn’t like what Miller had to say.
***
Rogan studied at Iker as he took a seat. Colm stood behind him.
“You have the money?” Iker asked.
“I do.” Rogan pulled out the jewelry box and opening it, pushed it across the desk that was between them.
Iker snorted. “What’s this? You proposing to me?”
“It’s your money. Cabeza cashed it in for diamonds. They’re all real. I had a jeweler appraise them.” He pulled out the appraisal, which Iker read over carefully.
“That bastard,” Iker growled. He reached for the box, but Rogan snatched it back.
“Not so fast.”
Iker eyed him coldly. “That’s my money, Rogan.”
“And you’ll be getting it back and then some if you read that appraisal properly. I want your assurances that this is the end. You’ll leave Cabeza’s ex alone.”
Iker squinted. “She could run her mouth about this. She’s a loose end I don’t like.”
“She’s under my protection.” Rogan knew Iker would want to tie up any loose ends. Because it’s exactly how he would be thinking. It’s why he hadn’t brought Dylan with him to this meeting. The other man would explode at the hint of a threat to Tilly.
Iker swallowed, shifting a little in the chair. A surprisingly nervous gesture from the cold and ruthless leader of the Vipers.
“What guarantee do I have she won’t talk?” Iker asked.
Iker wouldn’t be worried about her talking to the cops. There was little she could give them. But if it got out that he’d been undercut by an idiot like Cabeza he’d soon lose respect. And without the respect of his crew, he had a short lifespan.
“She’s not in this life. She wants nothing to do with any of it.”
“I want her out of the city,” Iker demanded.
“She’ll be leaving within the week.” He needed something from Dylan before they left.
Iker narrowed his gaze as he stared at him. “All right, deal. I’ll stay away from the girl as long as you ensure her silence. Just make sure she knows the score. She can’t be the brightest if she didn’t notice that the cheap stones on good old granny’s ring were being swapped for diamonds.”
“You’ll also pay to have her apartment fixed up after you trashed it,” Rogan demanded. “And don’t bother trying to deny it.”
Iker was silent for a long moment then he shrugged. “All right. I’ll pay to have the girl’s cheap apartment fixed up. I’ll transfer the money to you. Jesus Christ, now hand it over.”
Iker stood and held out his hand for the box.
“There’s one more thing,” Rogan said.
“Fucking hell, man. Do you want me to sign over my first born child?” Iker asked with frustration.
“Nothing so dramatic. I want to talk to Miller Toresso.”
Far as Rogan was concerned Miller had made her own bed. She should be left to suffer the consequences. But Tilly had a soft heart. It was a weakness, something she needed to work on. But Rogan could tell Dylan loved her despite that flaw. She’d need Dylan to protect her from all the bad things in the world.
Iker shrugged. “Good luck with that. I was planning on putting her to work at one of my strip bars. Nice pair of tits on her but the silly bitch took off. No idea where she is.”
“That seems convenient,” Rogan drawled.
Iker’s face hardened. “You calling me a liar. You’re welcome to look for her.”
Rogan shook his head after a long moment. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“Good. We’ve been allies for a long time. I’d hate to see a stupid whore change that.”
Rogan handed over the jewelry box.
“What do you think?” he asked Colm as they walked to the car.
“He’s holding back. Either he knows where the girl is or he’s looking for her. She’s a loose end as well.”
“Exactly what I thought. Let’s keep this between ourselves okay?”
“Sure, boss.”
Unease swirled through him. Would Colm keep it quiet or was he selling information on the side?
Iker’s slip of the tongue had sealed the lid on his suspicions that someone in his crew was sharing secrets. There had been a few other things that had roused his suspicions, but there was no way Iker could have known that was Tilly’s grandmother’s ring unless someone close to Rogan had blabbed.
Someone had betrayed him and Rogan couldn’t let that go unpunished.
Chapter Eight
Tilly paced past him. She’d been agitated all evening and Dylan couldn’t blame her. Sitting around and waiting for Rogan to get back from his meeting with Iker had Dylan on edge as well.
“Do you think Rogan’s okay? What if something has happened to him? Shouldn’t he be back by now? Maybe we should go after him,” she suggested. She ran her hand through her hair, tugging at it anxiously.
As she walked past him once more, he reached out and grabbed hold of her, pulling her down onto his lap. He grabbed her cold hands in one of his. Cupping the side of her face with one hand, he turned her head so he could study her closely. Her pupils were dilated, her breath shallow and fast.
Too much fear, adrenaline, and caffeine was taking its toll on her.
“Listen to me, Rogan will be fine. He can take care of himself.”
“Do you think we did the right thing?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Should we have taken the ring to the police? I mean, it just doesn’t feel right to hand over so much money to a gang.”
“This was the best way to keep you safe.” And that was all that mattered to him. He didn’t care what lines he had to cross to protect her.
“That doesn’t make it right,” she said worriedly.
“It does to me. I want you to stop worrying.”
Tilly snorted. “Like that’s going to happen.” She rubbed her stomach.
He’d noticed her doing that a bit lately. “Is something wrong with your stomach?”
“Oh, ahh, stress can give me a sore stomach sometimes. It’s nothing to worry about.”
Nothing to worry about?
“Anything that upsets you is something for me to worry about,” he told her. “How long has this been happening?”
She let out a laugh. “For as long as I can remember. I’ve had to learn to find ways to de-stress otherwise I end up completely miserable.”
“And how do you de-stress?”
“I’ve been trying to exercise. Although that hasn’t been working out so well.”
“You’re probably so tired from working on your feet all the time that you have little energy for exercise,” he said. “Plus you eat like a bird. You need to fuel your body better.”
She stared at him for a long moment and he cleared his throat with embarrassment. “Sorry, I’m lecturing.”
“Yeah you are.” She smiled. “But you’re doing it because you want to take care of me and I can’t argue with that. It’s nice to have someone looking out for me.”
“I’m glad because I like taking care of you, Tilly.” He nuzzled her neck with his nose. “How else do you de-stress?”
“I like to bake.”
“Anything else?”
“Umm, sometimes playing at the club helps.” He rested back against the sofa and she lay her head on his chest.
“Only sometimes?”
“I have to be able to give up control and surrender myself. I can’t always do that.” She glanced up at him shyly. “But I can with you.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, I know you’ll look after me. I like the way you take control without being controlling.”
“What else do you like?”
“I like when you touch me.When you taste me.”
“Hmm, I love the taste of you,” he told her with a wink.
“You already know that I like a little pain.”
“You like the feel of the flogger against your skin, don’t you? What about having your nipples clamped?”
He reached under her t-shirt and pinched her nipples. She arched against him. “Tilly,” he said in a warning voice when she didn’t answer.
“Yes, I like having my nipples clamped,” she replied.
He flipped her so she lay over his lap. She was only wearing a light pair of cotton pants. Perfect.
“Dylan, what are you doing?”
“I’d think that was obvious,” he said, rubbing her bottom in slow circles.
“Someone could walk in,” she whispered, looking over her shoulder at him in horror.
Dylan bit back a grin. “If they do we’ll tell them it’s part of your stress-therapy.” He knew Rogan would be at least another hour and the others were either watching a movie or outside watching the house.
“But to preserve your dignity, I’ll let you keep your panties on.” This time. He pulled down her cotton pants to reveal lacy white panties.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” she muttered, tensing.
With a smile, he gathered up her hands and brought them to the small of her back, holding them there with one hand around her wrists. He was always mindful of how much smaller she was in comparison to him. Dylan was used to being larger than everyone else. He liked knowing he had the strength to protect Tilly.
As he smacked his hand down on her buttocks, he was careful not to use his full strength. He
wanted to help ease her stress, to give her something else to focus on. This wasn’t punishment. He stopped after five smacks and rubbed her bottom which was already red.
“Where are you at, Tilly?” he asked.
“Green, Sir.” There was still a tinge of anxiety in her voice. He slipped his hand down to her pussy. Wetness greeted him and he grinned. Damn, he loved this woman.
He brought his fingers up to his mouth. “You taste so good, baby.”
“I can’t believe we’re doing this in Rogan’s living room.”
“I’m sure Rogan has done much worse in here.”
She groaned. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“If you’re still worrying then obviously I’m not doing this right.” He spanked her steadily, moving his hand over her ass cheeks then down her thighs. By the time he stopped they were both breathing heavily and her ass was crimson and hot to the touch.
Dylan slipped his hand between her thighs again. She was slick with arousal and he easily pushed two fingers deep inside her.
“Dylan,” she said, her voice thick with need.
He pumped his fingers in and out of her slick passage, loving the feel of her velvety warmth. Then he slipped them out and moved them to her clit, rubbing it gently.
“Keep your hands at the small of your back,” he ordered. “I want you to come, baby. Come right here on my lap with your ass bright red and my fingers strumming your clit.”
“I can’t,” she cried.
“Of course you can. You’ll come for me because that’s what I want. And you want to please me.”
Moving at a steady pace, he tapped her clit until she was shaking with need.
“Come for me. Now!” He increased the pressure on her clit, flicking it firmly until she stiffened and cried out. She shuddered, letting out a low moan as she came. Dylan rubbed her bottom soothingly.
“Good girl, that’s my good girl.” Dylan eased her pants up over her ass then pulled her around so she was resting on his lap. He tugged her in tight against him. “My beautiful, sweet girl.”
He kissed her.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
Sinfully Yours, Sir Page 10
