Complete Innocence Boxset

by Stasia Black

  She blinked in confusion for a moment but then remembered her earlier conversation with Armand.

  He’d come in while she and Anna were at Metamorphosis, before they’d gone in to get their massages. “Don’t mean to interrupt girl’s day out. I wanted to let you know I gave Perceptions a referral. You remember the big black guy in the white tux?”

  She remembered the intense stare down between the tall man and her husband. “Philip Waters…uh, yes.”

  “Well, Waters called trying to get in touch with you. Cora, he is raving about how great the party was last night. I sent him to your website but I’ll send you his number, too. This is huge! He owns a huge company—I bet he wants you to do something corporate. That’s big money right there. I’ll help you, of course. We’ll get some sub-contractors.” Armand’s voice had buzzed with excitement but Cora had been beyond exhausted at that point. She’d hoped she’d fall asleep during the massage, but no such luck.

  Saving the voicemail, she dropped her phone on the bedside table with a groan. How long could a person go without sleep before they went crazy?

  Hauling herself out of bed, she went tiredly to the bedroom door to stare at the rest of the apartment. No one was home. Olivia would probably work through the night with Pig. Where Olivia was a devil, stubborn and driven, Pig—Cora didn’t know his real name—was an angel, sweet and talented. His ideas were cutting edge, Olivia had told her once, but he’d give them away if it wasn’t for her push to get them patented, designed, and distributed properly. Olivia was a fiend when it came to business.

  Anna was probably getting a private tour of the studio by her new boy toy, Max Mars.

  Meanwhile, Cora thought, I’m slowly going mad. Grabbing a laundry basket, she started picking up the place.

  When she went to clean her purse, the baggie of white pills Armand had given her fell out, and she paused, considering. She hated taking medicine for anything. Even when she was little, her mother would let the fever burn out or feed her chicken soup for a cold. She frowned. Her mom was scarcely a role model, though, considering she was a murderous crime lord. Then Cora laughed humorously. She had a lot of those in her life.

  She pulled out one of the little pills. It weighed heavily in her palm, a fair trade for a night’s rest.

  After swallowing it with a glass of water, she waited a few minutes, then kept packing for her upcoming move.

  She was rummaging around in her suitcase when she heard a clink. Checking the small pockets, she pulled out her wedding rings, the plain white gold band and matching engagement ring, unique with both diamonds and red stones. She slid it on her finger, watching the diamonds and garnets catch the light.

  She remembered the night Marcus had first but it on her finger. That had been another lifetime. She’d been another woman. A girl, really. She hadn’t even known who or what Marcus was yet. She’d been so naïve. And if she could go back in time and warn her former self? She flopped back on the couch and stared at the ceiling fan. If she could do it all differently…would she?

  A knock at the door startled her out of her thoughts.

  She glided across the small apartment and opened it, expecting Armand or even one of her roommates who’d forgotten their keys. She didn’t expect the familiar dark-haired form, with tall, broad shoulders filling the narrow frame.

  “Marcus,” she whispered numbly.

  The next second he was on her, his large hands cradling her face with infinite care as his mouth closed over hers. Firm lips pressing, pulling, dominating hers until they parted.

  She closed her eyes, her breath leaving her in a rush. What was she doing? She couldn’t just let him— Marcus’s hands caressed her cheeks, her shoulders, her hips, guiding her backwards. And she let him. His scent washed over her.

  She clutched his shoulders for balance at first, then harder, her fingers digging in and grabbing him. Yes. She missed him. She needed him.

  He swung her up and her legs locked around his waist. Then they were in her bedroom. On the bed.

  Her hips arched upwards, juddering, begging as Marcus braced his big body over hers. His mouth, his hands, were everywhere. His stubble scraped the inner curve of her breast and she cried out in shock at the abrasive pleasure.

  Fabric tore and she kicked free of her ruined sleep shorts. Her hands turned to claws, digging into the solid muscle of her husband’s back.

  Please, I need—

  He reared up, a massive shadow over her. In a moment he’d fill her and all would be well. Everything in the world swirled away. It was only Marcus, Marcus, Marcus. She couldn’t see his face, but as her body convulsed in painful pleasure, the light silhouetted the curve of his cheek, cruel and confident and everything she’d longed for in the eternity they’d been apart...

  Cora woke up with her body shuddering in the throes of her orgasm. Her hand flew to her naked chest as if she could still her pounding heart.

  She looked around in confusion even as she checked the sum of her naked limbs. In the cool bedroom light she couldn’t tell whether it was night or day. Marcus was nowhere to be seen. Had it been…a dream?

  What the hell? She pushed her hair back from her face and tentatively felt herself down there. No, she hadn’t had sex. Sex with Marcus, especially after going so long without—she’d definitely feel it afterwards.

  She flopped backwards on her pillow. She wasn’t sure which was more unsettling, the sex dream or the nightmares.

  Her phone chirped at her from an unruly pile of pillows on the floor. 7:56 a.m., the glowing light told her, over twelve hours since she’d taken the sleeping pill. She didn’t remember anything—taking off her clothes, climbing into bed—nothing except for the dream.

  It had been a dream, right? Though she didn’t feel sore, it had still felt so real.

  Blushing hard, she gathered the bedspread around her naked form and peeked out of the bedroom. No one was in the apartment, and there was no way to tell whether or not someone had been there.

  Except that the air in the bedroom held the heady smell of sex.

  Okay. Enough. Cora jumped off the bed and ripped off all the sheets, throwing them in a pile for laundry before taking the coldest shower of her life.

  Eight

  Gods, she was beautiful. No, it went beyond simple beauty, Marcus thought as he stared at his wife sitting in one of her favorite coffee shops. She often came here to work on her laptop. Considering the state of things, Marcus had a Shade assigned to her at all times. He didn’t care if she found it stifling. Her safety was a nonnegotiable.

  She looked to be working through her receipts, and each of her movements was so graceful, it was like an unrehearsed dance. Her fingertips glided along the laptop keys and her arms were fluid as she moved receipts from one pile to another. Her intelligent eyes were so focused, she seemed lost to the world. It was like that with everything she did. Even when she only volunteered at an animal shelter, she gave it her all. In friendships, she never held back.

  And when she loved, she loved so effusively that being on the receiving end was the most incredible and addictive thing in the world.

  Marcus was just about to head her way when a young man, maybe college-aged, approached her and put his hand on the chair opposite. “Is this seat taken?” He flashed a smile that Marcus wanted to shove down his throat.

  “It’s mine,” Marcus growled, covering the distance between them in only a few strides. The little prick turned and stiffened. He took one look up at Marcus and showed he had an ounce of brains in his head by taking off without a word.

  Marcus sat down across from Cora. A deep sense of relief and rightness washed through him at being so near her again.

  “What are you doing here?” she hissed. Her flashing eyes had him smiling. He loved it when she was feisty.

  “We need to talk.” Marcus gave a gesture with his hand. Behind him in the coffee shop, his Shades moved, escorting customers out and even going behind the counter to send the green-aproned barista
s into their own storeroom.

  “What the—” Cora watched his men clear the coffee shop and then snapped her gaze back to Marcus “I told you I’d call.”

  “This isn’t a social call.” His tone went grim as he remembered the not so subtle message that had been left in his bed. No one had been found in the apartment but his men also hadn’t discovered how anyone had been able to break in in the first place. The lock hadn’t been jimmied and nothing was broken. If they were able to get in like that, why not wait and try to assassinate him? Too many questions without answers. He didn’t like it.

  “It’s business, not pleasure.” He tossed a black phone onto her bag. “When you do call me, make sure you use this.”

  Cora stared at the burner phone. “Is this really necessary?”

  “I’m receiving death threats. Not the usual ones I get, either. These messages are…targeted. Serious. The kind that let me know the people sending them are knowledgeable enough to carry them out.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Death threats?”

  “I’m handling it. But you need to be aware.” He nodded towards the phone. “And take precautions.”

  She stared at him for a moment. Her eyes dropped in the most beautiful submission as she reached for the phone. Marcus couldn’t deny the triumph roaring through his chest.

  “I got it,” she murmured as she slid the burner into her purse. “If I call you, I’ll use this.”

  “When,” he corrected. If she thought she could retreat now, she was out of her mind. Not after giving that little taste reminding him of how delicious it was when she submitted.

  “What?”

  “When you call me.”

  She glared at him and he couldn’t help his smile. “After this display I may not want to call you.”

  He genuinely had no idea what she was talking about. “What display?”

  “This.” She waved her hand around.

  “Neutral ground.” He shrugged. “I chose a place where you’d feel comfortable.”

  “Normally people come in and order drinks. But you come in and get your ninjas or whatever to scare off the barista and block the door with your bodyguards to keep out all the customers.”

  Marcus just looked at her. She threw up her hands, her voice rising. “You did a hostile takeover of this coffee shop.”

  “You understand I’m here on your turf for your sake. But I also need to feel comfortable. My enemies won’t hesitate to target me.”

  “I got that when we got shot up at the restaurant where we were having dinner.”

  “We’re not speaking of that here.” Marcus’s jaw went stiff. If he thought of that day, he’d need to break something.

  “I thought you were here to speak to me. This is me talking.” She threw open her arms. “I’d hate for you to clear out a coffee shop for nothing.”

  He bit back a smile. Gods, she was spectacular. She’d grown so much from the naïve ingénue he’d first met. Now she was a firecracker. Bold. Explosive.

  He wanted to toss her laptop to the floor and lay her out over the table right here. One thing that had never changed, and Marcus hoped never would, was the fact that her every emotion played out on her face.

  And like always, he felt his desire reciprocated in the crackling electricity between them. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. So why was she denying it?

  He leaned in. “I have to disappear for a while.” He registered the surprise on her face but kept going. “Come with me. A week of lying low. We’d be able to talk, see if we can work things out.”

  Emotions darted one after the other across her face and she sputtered, “What? You can’t just…you’re asking me to…”

  “I have no reason to believe you’re in danger. That’s why you have a choice. But I would like us to talk. Cora, I want you back. I want us to be together.”

  “Marcus,” she began, and sighed. “I’ve started a life. I know it sounds stupid. It’s only been two months, but…”

  She bit her lip in the way that drove him crazy. And she kept talking instead of shutting him out, which was progress. “I’ve started a business and I think it’ll work. Perceptions is more than a model placement service. I want to be an advocate for these young women. I know what this industry can do to them.”

  “You know predators exist.”

  She nodded and leaned forward. “I help get these women legitimate jobs. Maybe not the most glamorous or highest paying jobs, yet,” she admitted. “But it’s starting to come together. Young women come to make it in the big city and get sucked down and destroyed. Perceptions could be a life line.”

  Of course she would make something like this her life’s work. And this was only the beginning, he had no doubt. Her heart had no bounds.

  “And now I’ve got clients lining up,” she continued excitedly. “Armand already gave one of the guests my number; he said the man was so impressed with what I’d done and Armand told him about my business.”

  “I’m proud of you.”

  Her breath caught. She flushed, and looked away.

  “Which guest?”

  She paused and for a moment he thought she wouldn’t tell him but she arched an eyebrow. “The big man in the white suit. Philip Waters.”

  What?

  “Philip Waters is asking about you?” Marcus didn’t try to hide his fury. That bastard knew the Code. Families were left out of business.

  “Um, yeah,” Cora said, sounding less sure of herself. “He met me at the party and got my number from Armand. He called me for a consultation—”

  Marcus picked her phone up off the table and started scrolling. He saw Waters’ number and that he’d left a voicemail. Feeling even more pissed than when he’d found the dog’s heads in his bed, he pressed the button to listen to the message.

  “Hey!” Cora cried as he raised the phone to his ear. Frowning, he listened to Waters’ putting on a friendly voice as he asked for a consultation, as Cora said. Marcus swore.

  “What are you doing?” she asked as he pressed more buttons. She made a move to reach for it and he halted her with a gesture.

  “Blocked him.” Marcus tossed the phone onto her bag. “If he tries to call again or finds another way, use the burner and contact the emergency number. It comes straight to me or Sharo. You remember the emergency number?”

  Cora was still staring open mouthed at her phone. “I can’t believe you did that. You blocked my first real client.”

  “Cora, run from everything I’ve said today but understand this—” Marcus reached forward and grasped her hand, ensuring that she was looking him in the eye. “You need to stay away from Waters. I’ll talk to Armand, let him know the deal.”

  But Cora only looked pissed. “Oh, no,” she said, shaking her head and pushing her chair back from the table. “You don’t get to order me around anymore.”

  She was cute. He smiled. “Don’t I?” But he stood up and sobered, coming around the table. This wasn’t something to be taken lightly. “I mean it, Cora. I’m talking about bad shit.”

  Cora jerked her head back in surprise, probably at hearing him swear. He almost never did around her. His father had raised him better than to swear around women. But he had to get it through her head about Waters.

  Marcus moved around the table to where she stood. “He’s dangerous.”

  “I can handle dangerous.”

  Did she mean that as a challenge?

  “Can you, Mrs. Ubeli?” He moved forward.

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “No, Cora? Why not?”

  “We’re separated right now. I don’t know if I want to be Mrs. Ubeli right now.”

  Marcus stepped into her space, only inches between them. Her breathing grew shorter, her bosom rising and falling in response to him.

  “If you don’t want to be Mrs. Ubeli,” he said in a voice dangerously low. “Why are you still wearing your wedding ring?”

  She blinked, but before she could tear her eyes away from h
is gray ones, he took her left hand, and raised it slowly to his lips and kissed her cold fingers, without taking his eyes from hers. The diamonds sparkled between them, the more subtle garnets flashing red.

  She tried to snatch her hand back, but he gripped it harder. Her breath caught and she swallowed hard. “I was cleaning last night…I don’t remember.”

  A visible shiver went through her and gods, her response drove him crazy. He wanted her. He wanted her so badly that sometimes he couldn’t sleep at night but for the wanting and the memory of her body beside his in the bed.

  “I’ve decided I want a divorce,” she whispered, finally taking a step back from him.

  He laughed.

  “It’s not funny.”

  “All right.” He shrugged. “I can grant you a divorce.”

  She stared, obviously not believing.

  “You want a divorce, I’ll give it to you.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Whatever you want, on one condition.” He held up a finger. “You talk to me, really talk. And we try to make it work first.”

  “Marcus…” She lifted a hand to her head like he was making her dizzy.

  “Cora, you’re still running. You wanted space, I gave it to you. You want my money? I’ll give every cent and work harder for more.” He closed the distance she’d put between them.

  “What are you doing? Marcus.” She backed up as he came forward, crowding her into the wall beside the coffee bar. All his Shades had wisely disappeared and taken up an outside perimeter. It was just the two of them in the entire shop.

  He stopped her with a finger to her lips. “Whatever you want, I can get it. All I want is you.”

  “You can’t have me.” She shook her head but her eyes were full of confusion and, if he wasn’t wrong, longing. “I don’t want to lose myself in you. You’re too…powerful.”

  “Is that what you want? To be powerful?” The small space between them was magnetic, drawing her closer to him. He hoped his gaze seared her the way hers did him. It was his only saving grace—that the obsession wasn’t his alone. As much as she tried to deny it, he knew she felt it too.