by Snow, Nicole
If my family does bad things, illegal things, then...how on earth did I wind up married to him?
6
A Rare Bird (Flint)
Talk about a fucking dilemma.
Right now, I’ve got three parts to me, all warring with each other like a bad Kung Fu movie.
One part wants her to remember everything so we can expedite this charade to its spectacular end. Then I can focus one hundred percent on keeping her safe, and less on spinning bullshit stories.
Another part of me wants her to never remember anything. Forget what she’s already figured out, it’s scaring her to death. She’s gone pale again, and I don’t know what to do about it. I know how to fight with my hands, with weapons, with stealth tactics, but this?
This shit’s a whole new realm. Has been ever since I carried her into my house.
As for my third personality...let’s not even fucking go there. It’s the side of me that wants to make this worse. The part that wants to push this woman up against the nearest wall and have his greedy way with her lips, and then some, consequences be damned.
Obviously, I’m not giving in.
Hell no.
I look down, squeezing her hand tighter, trying to reassure her with touch where words won’t do. “You’re quiet. Is more coming back to you?”
“No, not yet, just trying to hash things.” She rubs her forehead. “Process what I know.”
I grasp her hand, pulling it off her face. “How about don’t? I know how weird that sounds, but hell, is it really so wrong? Don’t try to remember. Don’t try to process. Don’t grieve over shit you can’t control, honey.” Holding both her hands, I pull her closer, folding my arms around her trembling frame. “You’re safe here with me, that’s all you need to think about.”
Honestly, that’s all I can think about, because she might not be safe forever. That’s what got me into the thick of it with Cash, him jumping down my throat for taking the girl out for a short hop across the island.
Fuck. Who knows, maybe he’s right.
Can I just brush it off as hyper-paranoid after I saw that guy at the shrimp truck? Thankfully, there was a crowd of tourists to keep anything from getting out of hand. Cornaro men, whether they were looking for Val or not, work in the shadows. They’re not gonna get in anybody’s face in broad daylight, mingling with a crowd.
Still...
Son of a bitch.
I need boots on the ground in order to get to the bottom of this. I can’t be with her twenty-four seven and go out searching for clues about why her brother wants her out of the picture.
I’d pissed Cash off even more when I mentioned my plans to come clean, tell her the truth, as soon as he left.
Then Valerie had to go and say it—how she knew I’d never lie to her.
Goddamn, this is complicated.
I can’t keep her in the dark, but I can’t shatter that trust. Simply remembering little tidbits sends her into a downward spiral. Finding out I lied to her could throw her into a total tailspin, make her so upset she’ll try to leave.
I can’t chance it. Cornaro’s men are looking for her, that’s a given.
Luckily, this place has all the security possible, safeguards for anyone trying to get in or out. I designed it with the latest state-of-the-art tech, even had a virtual consultation with Enguard Security, one of the best agencies on the West Coast.
Too bad all the fancy bells and whistles in the world can’t undo my moral dilemma.
This universe has a sick sense of humor. My choices are feed a chick lies to hold her hostage or tell her the truth and risk her getting killed.
Damn. I need to bring in backup. Get more guys to help, both for watching my house and investigating what’s going on with King Heron Fishing.
Her shaking has eased up, at least, so I relax my hold and wait until she lifts her head. “Doing better?”
She nods.
“Getting hungry?”
She shakes her head. “No. I don’t know about dinner.”
“Then how about relaxing in the hot tub? I’ll go fire it up and fetch your bathing suit.”
For a second, she just keeps the same glum look on her face, staring at her feet. But I see her features soften, just a crack that says she wants to.
“Come on, Val. You’ll feel like a new woman again. Heat does a body good.”
“Does it work on the mind, too?” She grins slightly. “I guess that sounds nice...”
Unable to resist, I kiss her forehead. Her smile grows.
“Come on.” I lead her to the bedroom and nod toward the bathroom. “I’ll bring your suit to you.”
“Have you always taken care of me like this?” she wonders.
I smile, glad I don’t have to lie for once. “Damn right. Ever since the day we met.”
She blushes slightly but heads for the bathroom. I grab the swimsuit Cash included with the other clothes he’d bought and carry it across the room. I knock, then barely open the bathroom door, and set the suit on the counter. “I’ll go get the tub ready.”
“Okay. I’ll be out in a minute.”
I’m relieved by the tone of her voice and head outside, where I switch on the hot tub and its Jacuzzi, and then go to the kitchen. A glass of wine might help her relax more, but that wouldn’t be a good idea in her condition, so I refill her tea and put a bottle of pain relievers on a tray.
She’s already outside when I arrive.
Holy shit.
My dick throbs at the sight of her. If the perfect woman fell down from the sky to sink her siren claws into me like some Greek tragedy, she’d look like Valerie Gerard.
Fuck you, Cash. I’ve got a whole new reason to have words with him.
A one-piece suit, one like my mother wears, would’ve been far more appropriate. Not the hot yellow two-piece she’s wearing. It leaves nothing to the imagination except taking it off her with my teeth.
I’d seen the suit when I’d washed it, yeah, but hadn’t expected it to look so damnably sexy once she’d filled in the top and bottoms.
She’s like a mermaid, all sun-kissed golden-brown skin with her long, dark hair flowing down her back.
I forget to fucking breathe. So I just watch her climb up the steps and into the water, and then swallow a groan as she slips her sweet ass in the water.
If she kills me, I want death by blue balls on my epitaph.
She twists and smiles at me. “Perfect temperature! It’s wonderful in here.”
I finally make my lungs work again and set the tray on the table beside the tub. “Good. I brought you some tea and pain pills.”
Frowning, she asks, “Aren’t you joining me?”
“Sure will, but first I need to prep supper. Let me pull something out of the freezer.”
I thank my lucky stars I’ve got a real excuse. We do need dinner. Steaks, salads, sides, the whole nine yards.
Somehow, though, the only meat I’m really thinking about is the tortured bulge below my beltline.
Seeing too much skin on that woman puts dragon fire through my veins. If things were different, I’d already be in there with her, but I can’t complicate this shit more. I refuse.
“I’m not that hungry,” she calls after me.
“You will be later,” I tell her over my shoulder. “You’d be surprised how that heat works up an appetite.”
Once I’m in the kitchen, I pull some steaks out, prep a marinade, and start texting old contacts, everyone who used to be part of my old Damysus Security crew. Plenty of men I know who, like Cash and I, live regular lives now, but they owe me a few favors. They’re willing to jump back into their old professions and send help.
Gotta admit, there’s a certain thrill contacting these guys. It’s like getting the old band back together. Their responses are swift and positive.
They don’t ask for details, just who, when, and where.
Once I’ve got a couple boys assigned to security and others digging up dirt on King Heron, I go shove
on my swimming trunks and head for the tub, fighting the urge to wag my finger at my cock to behave.
“About time,” Val says, sitting up a little straighter in the bubbly water. “I was starting to wonder if you were standing me up.”
“Sorry. Had to throw the steaks into a marinade.” I’d dropped them in a saucy concoction inspired by mojo sauce. Garlic, citrus, a little oil, and damn delicious. “I’ll grill them up later.”
“Sounds good.” She lays her head on the back of the tub. “I’m glad you got me out here. This is really nice. Every muscle in my body feels like butter.”
“It’ll do that.” I nod, climbing in and sinking down across from her, trying like hell to keep my eyes on her face.
No easy task.
Not when her tits are practically falling out, two delectable globes taunting my vision.
“I love how everything’s arranged out here. Did I help with the decorating, or was that all you?”
Shit. Here come the questions I have to answer with a forked tongue again. Apparently, just lying through my teeth isn’t hard enough.
Now, I get to do it with my dick so hard I could bust up concrete.
“You were a big help,” I say, seizing the opportunity to get her off the past. “I’d have never picked out the right flowers for this place. Still needs a few trees planted back here.”
Yeah, here we go. Another white lie. My ma actually helped with the flowers, but it’s believable I needed somebody’s input.
She glances around, focusing on the open yard before the tall concrete wall that goes clear to the sandy beach.
“You’re right.” Smiling brightly, she points to a specific area. “A banana tree would be perfect right over there.”
We spend some time talking about that, easy things that are just speculative and don’t require serious thought, until the skin on our fingers and toes wrinkles up. I’m grateful for how the conversation flows, without the need to bullshit her.
I listen to her dreaming up a whole new orchid garden and trees for this place until my stomach growls so loud she does a double take. “That’s not Savanny. Think it’s our cue to get some grub.”
Smiling, she nods and takes the hand I extend to her, helping her out of the tub.
Brutal truth: I’m starting to love that smile of hers more than I should.
Of course, my fucking head snaps right to her ass the instant her back is turned, and the whole spectrum of terrible thoughts comes in force. The things I could do to this girl.
If only I wasn’t a chronic liar.
If only she wasn’t missing half her life.
If only Val wouldn’t hate my guts whenever the inevitable truth leaks, one way or another.
After climbing out, I go to see if the steaks are thawed while she gets dressed.
She arrives in the kitchen, and I set down my phone, having been checking new texts from my makeshift crew of beefed up bodyguards and P.I.s.
The frown she’s wearing gets my attention.
“What’s wrong?”
She sighs. “Why do I have so few clothes? Feels like I’m missing half my wardrobe.”
Well, fuck.
I assumed she’d just put the dress back on. She hadn’t.
In fact, she threw one of my button-up shirts on over it.
I’m slow to think up an answer before she shrugs, then asks, “Is there another closet, maybe?”
I grab a fork to flip the steaks in their marinade, trying to act casual. “Most of your stuff’s still at your place. Remember how I said we weren’t married long?”
“Oh, where’s that?”
I stab the meat, scraping the bottom of the pan.
“Honolulu.” That’s where her family home is, and where she’d lived until the accident, so it’s not a total lie. That also makes it extra damn risky. “We just haven’t gotten around to moving everything in here yet. Hell of a lot going on between building a new home and getting everything situated.”
She nods slowly, seemingly satisfied, and sits down on a bar stool, glancing at her hand. Then her mouth drops open.
Damn, what now?
“Oh, nooo. Don’t tell me...I didn’t...did I lose my wedding ring in the accident?” Her face snaps up, worried gold-specked eyes searching mine. “Flint?”
The sweat pools on the back of my neck.
Yeah, I’m gonna have a one-way ticket to hell when this is done. No way around it. But this time I don’t say anything.
I just walk around the island to the end where a shelf holds several cookbooks. A firm tug opens the cover door that the shelves hide, revealing the metal safe inside.
“What’s that?” She leans over, watching me.
Punching in the code, I peel back the heavy door with a grunt. I’ve got a plan.
I hadn’t planned on buying a ring the day I’d visited an island jeweler on Maui last year, looking for a Christmas gift for my ma, but I’d ended up leaving with one. But Ma wanted pearl earrings instead, and by the time I got them ordered and rushed, I’d forgotten to even give her the ring.
Honestly, I forgot the frigging thing even existed. Until now.
Reaching in, I pull out the blue velvet box. One thing I’ll say, this design beckoned me to buy it.
Call it a premonition. Or a side effect of becoming so rich you sometimes just make weird, impulsive purchases. I’m not a heavy shopper, hardly for jewelry, but something about the ring caught my eye and said buy.
Giving in to that urge was completely out of character. It’s like a part of me just knew I’d need it someday.
Well, today’s the day.
I close the safe, the shelf’s wooden cover door, and then hold the box out to her, opening the lid. “Here you go. Safe and sound. You always liked keeping it locked up when you were in the thick of tour season with so much turnover, scared you’d lose it. The only ring you lost was the cheap silver substitute you were wearing.”
“Oh, dear, sweet Lord.” She presses a hand to her chest as she steps off the stool and moves closer to me. “It’s...holy crap.”
She looks up at me, her eyes so huge and sparkly I just laugh.
The large, perfect black pearl shimmers in the light. So do the diamonds surrounding it in a halo of raised white gold. It cost a pretty penny, but right now, all I can think is that I hope to fuck it fits her.
Please let something go right. I send up a silent prayer.
Then I lift the ring out of its box and hold out my other hand. “At least I don’t have to get down on one knee again.”
She smiles, laying her left hand on top of my palm.
I grasp her finger and slide it on. Sweet relief washes over me when it fits perfectly snug. “Home again. I think it’s happy. You were so scared you’d lose it.”
Staring down, she wiggles her fingers and whispers, “Um, yeah. I can see why.” She looks up at me. “Real black pearls are extremely rare.”
“Exactly why I bought it,” I growl, squeezing her fingers. “You’re a rare bird, Val. And you’re mine.”
“Oh, Flint,” she whispers.
Fuuuuck.
Do they make tongue-sized tasers? Because right now, I really need somebody to kick down the door and shock my stupid, lying ass.
Believe me, I know the mistake I’ve just made, but all the voltage in the world still couldn’t stop what happens next. This curvy, grateful, and totally clueless slip of a woman just tumbles into my arms.
Not kissing her seems impossible.
Every rough bit of frustration I’ve experienced the past two days flows into our lips colliding.
Then it’s just heat and desire and...connection. Something deeper than I mean, even when I give the hell in and I’m pushing her butt gently against the island, stealing her breath, leaving her weak-kneed and in awe.
She tastes even sweeter than she did on the beach.
No idea how that works, but it whacks me upside the head. I have to pull her closer, into my arms, just so neither one of
us goes crashing down from the shock, the fire, the passion.
It’s like I’m dying of thirst, drinking her in. I can’t get enough, can’t get close to enough of her, until I’ve had my fill. I pull her tightly against me as her arms loop behind my neck.
Her lips part wider as she urges me back, her little hands pulling at my shoulders. I let my tongue roam wild, fully tasting her, taking this forbidden kiss to the very limit.
She holds nothing back. If I want, I could toss her back on the island, spread her legs, and take her right now.
But I’ve still got a shred of humanity left. Barely.
The buttons on the shirt she’s wearing are undone, her scantily covered tits pressed too tight against my bare chest. I can feel her nipples on my skin, begging to be teased, pinched, sucked.
Snarling, I give my hands a few seconds of freedom, letting them explore.
Her back, her sides, down to her hips.
That lush ass spills into my hands, so real I can just picture her bent over. For a runaway second, I squeeze her ass cheek. Hard.
But a voice growls up in the back of my mind. What the fuck are you doing?
Naturally, it sounds too much like Cash.
Before the brink of no return, I break the kiss and pull back. “We shouldn’t do this. Not yet, I mean.”
She frowns. “Do what? We’re married, Flint.”
Yeah. About that...
I take a long second to catch my breath and let common sense win. “You’re not wrong. Thing is, babe—”
“Oh. I don’t remember,” she says quietly. “I get it now.”
Guilt hits me like a crossbow arrow, straight through the chest. “No, you don’t get it.”
She stares at me, her eyes full of wonder as I cup her face with both hands.
“I don’t care that you don’t remember, I just don’t want you fucking pressured into anything you’ll regret. Your next time should be special. Not a couple days after bashing your head so bad you’re still trying to sort up from down.” I kiss her forehead, cringing as I force out the next words. “Give it time to heal, Val. Give us time, and then I’ll rock your world.”
