by Lily Harlem
“Keep it quiet,” a familiar Australian voice whispered hotly in my ear. “I’ve got more of that sleepy stuff if you want me to knock you out again.”
Instinctively I tried to shove free.
It was no good. He had me in a viselike grip.
His voice deepened. “Keep the hell still, I need to cut off a piece of you.”
Cut off a piece of me! Oh fuck!
I squirmed and wriggled, terror overriding excitement and both fight and flight kicking in. Hell, I’d seen what he could do with a knife—that snake hadn’t stood a chance and I suspected neither would I.
“Shit, keep still,” he said, his voice tight and strained. “I won’t hurt you, I promise. Penny, it’s not what you think, calm down.”
I was pacified a fraction and stopped my writhing. His tight hold didn’t let up. He had one thickly corded forearm wrapped around my waist and the other held my head in the groove of his shoulder. His gloved palm was tight over my mouth and his fingertips pressed into my cheek.
The thud of his heart vibrated into my back, its speed matching my own. His chest heaved and his rapid breaths blew like a storm in my ear. Despite myself, a tremble of lust shook up my spine. I’d been thinking of him, of being in his arms, of having him take me for so many weeks and now, finally, it was happening. My traitorous body stopped fighting as desire diluted the adrenaline.
“Are you gonna keep quiet if I take my hand off your mouth?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Promise?”
I nodded again and stilled completely.
The pressure lifted. I knew I should scream and shout for help. Shit, he wanted to cut off a piece of me. This was the man who’d kidnapped me and here he was again, grabbing me.
There were at least three people in the reading room—surely they would hear a panicked yelp. Security would come running, police would be called. He would be hauled off to prison, especially when I confirmed it was he who’d taken me in Australia too.
“Penny,” he said, spinning me to face him at the same time backing me up against the opposite bookshelf. “I’m sorry that I have to do this to you.” His big hands pressed on the balls of my shoulders.
I stared into his handsome face, his full lips even more kissable than I remembered, his eyes an even denser shade of cobalt blue. He’d shaved off the fuzzy soul patch that had been beneath his bottom lip last time I’d seen him. “Do what, Ty?”
He widened his eyes. “You know my name?”
“Of course, it wasn’t hard to find you on Facebook.”
He lowered his thick blond brows. “Shit!”
“I just went through all the James Hills. His profile picture is of you two together on a beach somewhere.” I paused. “And after our last encounter, you were easy to spot even with clothes on.”
“Ah, crap.” He shifted his feet and looked left and right, as if deciding which way to take off. “I didn’t even think of Facebook.”
I didn’t want him to take off anywhere. Having him pressed against me, having his body heat and divine, fresh-from-the-shower smell cocoon me was what I’d been dreaming of for so long. “It’s okay, it doesn’t matter,” I said quickly. “Only I saw you back in Oz so I gave a different description to the police. I haven’t told anyone that I know who you really are.”
“Seriously?” He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. His flopping blond fringe shifted over his brows. “You really did that?”
“Yes, I didn’t think you would be much use to James if you were locked up too.”
Or much use to me.
“Blimey, thanks.” He flicked his head and his hair shifted again.
I placed my hands on his chest. He wore a dark-gray t-shirt under a red-checked fleecy shirt. The t-shirt material was thin and I could make out the shape of his pectoral muscles beneath. “I thought you were still in Australia anyway.”
He slid a hand up the back of my neck, feathering his fingers through the short hair at my nape. “I had to come to England. Your father’s position as foreign secretary still makes him, and you, my best hope for getting James out.” He lowered his voice. “You are my bargaining tool, Penny, so if you’re in England it’s where I need to be.”
I swallowed as a tickle of sensation radiated from his touch, pricking the skin on my scalp and down my spine. He’d followed me to England, to Oxford. He was a serious as ever about getting James out. He was as serious as ever about me being the key.
“And I am sorry I have to do this.” He pressed his body into mine and, between one heartbeat and the next, he harnessed both my wrists in just one of his big hands, locking them down at my stomach.
A bolt of fear shot through me as he whipped out a lethal-looking knife from his back pocket. The handle appeared to be crocodile skin and the sharp blade was curved like a macabre smile. He held it up between our faces.
“Oh god, no, please, Ty,” I squeaked through the tight channel of my throat. “I want to help. You said you wouldn’t hurt me.”
His intense gaze captured mine. “I won’t hurt you, Penny, if you keep quiet and still. Really still.”
Shit. Why hadn’t I screamed a few minutes ago when I’d had the chance? He was crazy. A madman. I should have known. Oh, why had I been having all these delusional fantasies about him coming back for me? I was a fool, a hopeless, romantic, sex-starved fool and now I was going to die for it.
A whimper of fear escaped my lips.
“Penny,” he whispered. “I won’t hurt you. I just need a lock of your hair.”
My eyes were filling. “My…my hair?”
“Yes, if I was a real bad guy I would take a finger or a toe to send to your father, but a lock of hair will do.” He clenched his jaw. “Now keep the hell still.”
He released my wrists and fisted a chunk of my fringe.
“Ty,” I whispered, my feet nailed to the spot.
“Shh, don’t move.” His long, lean legs trapped my thighs and his pelvis knocked into my hipbones. The shelves behind me dug into my back and the crown of my head was squashed against book spines.
I gulped as the knife slanted and glinted over my forehead. The roots of my hair complained as he tugged his fistful of fringe and sliced, unnervingly near to the roots, with the sinfully sharp blade.
“That should do,” he said, showing me a big clump of my pale-blonde hair. “And he’ll definitely know it’s your hair when he sees that.” He nodded at my head.
I raised my hand to my hairline. There was at least a two-inch square patch of soft stubble. “Oh crap,” I said with a frown.
He poked the lock of hair into a small, clear plastic bag and shoved it in his front jean pocket, then re-sheathed the knife before tucking it away. All the time his body kept pressed into mine, and as much as I was monumentally pissed about having a bald patch, the feel of him, his closeness, the sound of his breathing and the scent of his skin were like a drug to me—all I could feel was lust.
Am I crazy?
Probably.
“So what now?” I asked.
His gaze harnessed mine and he cupped my cheek with his gloved palms, the wool scratchy against my skin. “Now I send that to your father, just to let him know I can still get to his precious little girl even on the other side of the world. He needs to listen to me. He needs to give James’ case attention, soon.”
“How is James?”
He frowned. “I stopped over on my way here and after a lot of paperwork and hanging around I saw him. He’s thin, thin and scared, but typical James he’s trying to be positive. Although how he’s managing it I don’t know. The place is hell on earth.”
“It must be awful.”
Ty narrowed his eyes and nibbled at his full bottom lip. “Yeah, it is. I’ve got to get him out, there’s going to be a retrial but it could go against him, there’s talk of the death sentence.”
“Shit, really? God, that’s awful. I want to help.”
He tipped his head a little nearer to mine and I tra
ced my fingertips over the rise of his collarbones to the hollow of his throat.
“Do you really?” he asked.
“Yes, of course. I’ve brought it up with my father several times.”
“So bring it up again.” His voice was steely.
“I will, I have. Trouble is, he’s so pissed that you kidnapped me back in Oz that he flips into a blind rage whenever the subject is raised.”
“Well, he’s going to have to get over that. Maybe when he gets the message that you’re going to be taken again he’ll come to his senses.”
“Aren’t you taking me now?”
He shook his head.
I shifted against him.
He didn’t budge.
“So when are you going to let me go?”
He curled his lips into a devilish smile. “In a minute.”
I swallowed and wondered what it was about that smile that sent hot fiery fingers of need speeding to every erogenous zone in my body.
“Right after I’ve done this,” he murmured.
In a sudden rush, he claimed my mouth in a hot, hungry kiss. I opened up and let him in, releasing a small moan of pleasure as his arms circled my body and pulled me close. Damn, the man could kiss. His mouth communicated desire and strength, passion and danger and I lapped it up like the starving, reckless woman I was.
He chased for my tongue and we began a wild, slippery tango. As if we couldn’t get enough of each other.
I slotted my fingers into his thick hair and urged him closer.
“Ah, fuck, Penny,” he gasped, trailing supercharged kisses over my cheek. “If only…”
I tipped my neck as he explored behind my ear with his mouth, making me shiver in bliss. “If only what?” I asked breathlessly, barely controlling the delicious shudders rippling up my spine.
“If only circumstances were different.” He was exploring with his hands too, the thin material of the gloves sliding beneath my sweater, over the base of my ribs to my breasts.
I trembled as he cupped me through my bra and tweaked my nipple. “Different?” I managed. My brain was struggling to work. He did this to me, Ty, made me forget everything and all sense.
“Yeah, if only we’d met like two ordinary people.” His voice was low and husky. “Instead of this crazy situation. We could have been so hot together.”
“We are hot together.”
“Fuck, I know, but there’s nothing we can do about it.”
He was spooning my other breast now, holding it in his palm. The urge to pull off my top and let him have full access was overwhelming. “We did something about it last time.”
“I know, and I still feel terrible about it.”
I pushed at his shoulders and captured his gaze. “Don’t feel terrible, it was amazing.”
He stared down at me. “But it was wrong. I was holding you captive, against your will, and I ended up fucking you.”
“Only because I asked. It was hardly rape, was it?” Sweeping my hands over his shoulders, I pulled him closer again. Beneath my sweater he smoothed his hands around my back. Suddenly I was aware of a hardness jabbing into my belly—a long, thick hardness that I remembered only too well.
His nostrils flared and he sucked in a breath. He ground his erection forward.
“It was sexy and steamy,” I whispered onto his lips. “And bloody hell, I had one incredible orgasm.”
His eyes sparkled. “Yeah, I remember the cute little squeal you made when you came.” He poked out his tongue and traced the seam of my lips. “I’d quite like to hear it again sometime.”
“Here?” I curled my leg around one of his and trapped him to me, shifted against his cock. “Now?”
“Tempting, but no, not here, not now.”
“When, where?”
He mashed his lips to mine, hard and fretful. Shoved his steely length into my belly even more firmly.
I whimpered, a combination of lust and shock. Being pinned in his embrace sent my heart rate to dangerous levels and my head went giddy. I loved the way he kissed me. No man had ever kissed me with such desperation, such urgent intensity.
“Soon,” he said, pulling away and forcing me to unfurl my limbs from his body. “Soon, Penny, but I’ve got to get some results from your father first.”
He stepped back and I stared up at him. I was panting and my skin prickled with a heated flush that had turned me feverish.
He was breathing fast too. His fists were balled at his sides, his lips shiny from our kisses. The package in his jeans was impressive and I was more than a little irritated that I wasn’t about to get up close and personal with it again.
“I’ll do my best to persuade my father,” I said breathlessly.
“Do more than your best. Make it happen, or I will be forced to take drastic action, baby.”
Then, as fast as he’d appeared he was gone, slipping around the end of the aisle so quickly I could almost have believed he’d evaporated.
My heart knocked and my pussy buzzed. The feel of his arms around me and his hard cock had reawakened so many emotions and desires. My gut clenched and my body felt weak. I clutched the side of the shelf for support and fought the urge to crumple into a heap on the floor.
Ty was the worst man in the world for me to want. He was dangerous, unpredictable and desperate. Skilled in a whole host of things that could get me into very deep trouble, not just with the law but in the broken-heart department too.
But one thing was for sure.
I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything else in my life.
Chapter Two
My body didn’t feel like my own as I raced through the back streets of Oxford, clutching my rucksack. My feet floated over the cobbles and my breaths were short and sharp, echoing around the sandstone walls. I slowed only briefly to dispose of the note Ty had left in the library, throwing it in a trash bin outside the Red Lion pub.
Dodging evening revelers, I dashed into the grounds of my residency complex. My emotions collided in my chest as I sped along the tree-lined pathway that ran parallel to the halls. I was elated, turned-on, but also hugely frustrated. After all of this time waiting for Ty to take me again nothing had happened. There’d been no relief for my confusing, darkly twisted desires and barely a few minutes talking to him, finding out more about him, what was going on in that head of his.
I was thankful there was no one around when I let myself into the four-bedroomed corridor I shared with Jane, Tara and Nat. They were still out partying and not likely to roll home until the early hours. That was usually the way.
After letting myself into my room, locking the door and dropping my bag on the small dresser-cum-study desk, I glanced in the mirror.
Fuck!
I stooped and leaned forward for a closer inspection.
There was going to be no hiding that.
My hair was only ever a few inches long on the top and I either spiked it in a bed-head style or let it lie soft and feathered, depending on my mood. But no matter which I opted for, over the next few months there would be no disguising the big patch of stubble above the left side of my forehead. It was so short I could see the paleness of my scalp and the outline of my skull beneath.
Why did he go for such a conspicuous spot?
Frowning, I reached for a bottle of merlot and poured a generous glass. I would be wearing hats—a lot. After gulping back the rich liquid as though it was juice, I toed off my sneakers and kicked them under my chair.
I flicked on my iPod and a melancholy tune of lost love sang out. With a sigh I flopped onto the bed. Ty wasn’t exactly a lost love, he was just a lost opportunity—well, tonight at least.
In the outback we’d been so crazy for each other. I’d never in all my life wanted a man to penetrate me and make me come the way I had him. He was raw and masculine, big and unpredictable, everything opposite to my small, ordered, very feminine self. The attraction had been magnetic, like yin and yang coming together. It had also been inappropriate and wrong
. He knew it and so did I. But we hadn’t been able to help ourselves. Our bodies had taken control and we’d given in to the very primitive needs that had consumed us.
Reaching up, I pulled my brown-and-orange-striped curtains shut, blocking out the amber glow of a streetlamp directly outside. After wriggling out of my jeans, I tugged off my sweater. The room was so small that I could reach the window, my desk and a shelf holding a mix of heavy law books and chick lit without getting off my bed. Six paces and I was at the door, another fifteen and I was in our communal kitchen, five farther and it was the bathroom. This is where I would live for the first year of my studies. Dad had offered to buy me a flat of my own, but I wanted the whole student experience. I wanted to live the life. He’d frowned and said he couldn’t understand my stubbornness when it came to accepting the finer things he could offer me. I guess I just couldn’t help what I wanted.
A siren in the distance grabbed my attention. Was it the police after Ty? No, impossible. He wasn’t being looked for here. Not yet anyway. He would be once he sent my hair to Dad, then he would be on the UK’s top most-wanted list. He’d be hunted and sought out. Or at least an older, graying guy named Peter would be.
I hoped my red herring would protect Ty, because the thought of him being caught created a well of nausea in my gut. He had to play it right and I had to help him when I could. Not just for his sake but also for James’.
He’d said James was thin. Thin and living in hell but trying to be positive. I remembered the picture of him, smiling broadly and clutching his surfboard, his eyes sparkling, aglow with a vibrancy that came from a carefree existence and living life to the full.
What had happened to James was desperately wrong. Okay, so accidently having a bit of marijuana in his possession wasn’t sensible, but it was hardly a crime that should be paid for with his life.
I flicked the clasp on my bra and slid it down my arms.
I wanted to see Ty smile again too, and I wanted James to have the chance to enjoy his life once more. Be the vibrant man he obviously once was. I had no idea how to make that happen, but one thing was for sure, I was going to have to go along with the wild ride Ty had planned. He was dragging me with him whether I liked it or not.
