“About what?”
Larkin untied the small bow at the back of her neck and pulled the bodice of the dress to her waist. “God, you’re gorgeous.”
When he bent his head and took one of her nipples between his teeth, pleasure sparked through her veins and her knees wobbled. He caught her up against him with one strong arm across her back, kissing her wildly. She sensed a change in him, an urgency that went beyond mere passion.
Breaking free for a moment, she smoothed a hand over his cheek. “Wrong about what?”
“Marital bliss. Turns out it is contagious.” His eyes were dark, his expression more so.
“You’re not making sense,” she said, waiting impatiently for him to finish removing her dress.
When she was down to nothing but her French-cut panties, he stopped and stared. “We have to talk.”
Her nipples peaked, aching and hot. “About what?” The ferocity of his molten azure gaze might as well have been a physical caress. The tactile examination ran from her face to her belly and below. She shifted nervously from one foot to the other. Between her legs, her sex dampened, swelled, readied for him.
“I’m confused, but everything is getting clearer.”
Nothing he said made sense. But she understood without words what he wanted. And the erection tenting the front of his slacks reinforced her conclusion.
“One of us is lagging behind.” She was getting better at undressing him, but her fingers fumbled with the buttons at the cuffs of his dress shirt. He finally helped her and removed the rest of his clothing in an impatient one-footed dance.
Winnie clasped her hands between her breasts, trying to keep her heart from punching through her chest. Larkin was the gorgeous one.
He took her hand. “Do you trust me, Winnie? To always tell you the truth?”
“I do.” The sound of the vow made her wince inwardly, but Larkin didn’t seem to notice.
He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. “I can’t wait, baby. I’m sorry. We’ll take the edge off and start all over again.” Not bothering to peel back the sumptuous covers, he deposited her on the mattress and came down beside her, pausing only to take care of protection. As he moved between her legs, she arched into his thrust, groaning as he filled her completely. The sense of connection, of utter rightness, stole her breath.
His skin was damp against hers, the muscles in his arms cording as he held his weight on his hands. Moving his hips first lazily, then with more force, he took her further and faster than before. She wanted to savor the moment. To tuck it away and remember it in the days ahead when he would no longer be part of her everyday life.
But there was no time for reflection, no opportunity for even a fleeting rational thought. Larkin had learned what pleased her, and he used the knowledge to advantage. Again and again he drove her to the edge, taking her close, but never letting her fall.
It was agony and perfection. Torture and bliss.
His eyes were closed now, unwittingly shutting her out. With his skin drawn tightly across sharp cheekbones, he breathed harshly, raggedly. He was completely in control, his strength and power present in every thrust.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, driving him deeper still. And then it was upon them…without warning…a spine-numbing, breath-stealing surge of release that left her with no recourse but to grip his slick, powerful shoulders and hold on until the end.
* * *
Larkin was sleeping. And no wonder. The second time he’d taken her, the devil of a man had drawn out the wanting, the claiming, the exquisite joining. He’d moved inside her for what seemed like hours, his hands and lips coaxing her once again to a heated pitch of wanting that made her lose all sense of reason.
Now she lay on her side facing him. She had gone to the bathroom, used the facilities and washed up. He never stirred.
Lightly brushing the hair on his arm, she tried to analyze his words. You were wrong. Marital bliss is contagious. We need to talk.
A less pragmatic woman might coax herself into believing that Larkin Wolff was leading up to a proposal. But Winifred Bellamy was smarter than that. Throat tight, she glanced at the clock. It was still early…not quite midnight. She wasn’t sleepy. Her head buzzed with unformed thoughts, amorphous daydreams.
She would make Larkin Wolff a good wife. If he wanted one. But that idea was so dangerous, she locked it away rapidly, reaching for her usual steady footing. Life was good. She was blessed in many ways. She didn’t need a man to be complete.
Suddenly, her cell phone on the nightstand buzzed. She had it set to vibrate, but even so, it was loud. Sliding from beneath the covers, she grabbed it up and answered it in a low voice. “Hello…”
* * *
Larkin jerked awake, every sense on high alert. A sharp sound had dragged him out of a deep sleep. Groggy, he glanced around, identified his surroundings as Winnie’s bedroom and sat up. Immediately, he knew what had awakened him. Because it happened a second time. A keening, stricken cry that brought the hair on his arms to attention.
He bounded out of bed, not even taking time to turn on the light, and crouched beside her. She was huddled on her knees in the midst of the carpeted floor, arms wrapped around her waist. Tears streamed down her face as she rocked back and forth.
“Lord, honey. What’s wrong?” He had never seen his strong, unbreakable Winnie like this, and the change shocked him. Gathering her into his arms, he sat cross-legged with her in his lap, cuddling her, stroking her back, smoothing his hand over her hair. “Tell me, Winnie.”
He had a long wait. She seemed unable to stem the outpouring of grief, and his mind raced with possibilities, each one worse than the last.
Her skin was icy, even with his arms wrapped around her.
When she finally spoke, he could barely understand her. Her teeth chattered, and her words were choppy. “Esteban’s father killed his mother and grandmother.”
Larkin reeled, his stomach pitching with nausea. “Dear God. Are you sure? Don’t answer that. Of course you’re sure. Dear God.” His mouth dried as horror congealed everything inside him that had life and breath. “I promised him that he and his mother would be safe. That he didn’t have to be afraid.” Leland Security. What an ass he was, thinking he could protect people. What an unmitigated ass. He couldn’t keep anyone safe.
Winnie burrowed her face into his chest, making her speech even further garbled. “Not your fault. She left the property. He killed her first and then himself.” Fresh sobs shook her small frame.
Larkin gathered her up and put her back to bed. He retrieved a wet washcloth from the bathroom and wiped her face gently. She lay on her back, staring dully at the canopy atop the bed. The lovely room was not a fit setting for such raw, unimaginable news.
He felt the old feelings of failure claw at his chest, and had he not been a man, he might have joined Winnie in her cathartic tears. Seeing her pain and being unable to do anything about it destroyed him. “How did she get out?”
Winnie turned her head to stare at him. Light streamed from the bathroom, illuminating the bed. She was pale, too pale, and every freckle stood out in relief against her colorless skin. “The mothers and children aren’t prisoners,” she said huskily. “We have nothing or no one to tell them they can’t leave. They are given extensive counseling and cautioned again and again never to meet alone with an abusive husband or boyfriend. But they want so badly to believe a man can change, their man in particular, that they’ll sometimes do anything he asks.”
He tried to wrap his brain around the story she was telling. But he felt sick and guilty. “How did he find her?”
Winnie slung an arm over her face, covering her eyes. “He broke out of jail. Tortured the grandmother until she gave him a cell number. After killing the grandmother, he called Esteban’s mom. Begged for forgiveness. Asked to talk, just talk. She told him where to meet her…thank God, not at the actual address. Then she left my property and walked two miles down the road.
A car pulled up. He got out. Gunned her down. Put the gun in his mouth. There were witnesses.”
Winnie rolled to her belly as a fresh wave of sobs threatened to tear her in half. Larkin sat like stone, his mind barely functioning as he remembered Esteban’s oddly adult eyes but unquenchable cheer.
Suddenly Larkin was back in his childhood. He heard Devlyn cry out once. It was never more than once. She would take him by surprise and get that one shout of pain. After that, silence. Larkin huddled in a closet, Annalise in his arms. Her young voice was high-pitched, too loud. Hush, sis. We don’t have to stay here long. Let me braid your hair. Lean on me and fall asleep….
“I have to go.”
He snapped back to the present at the sound of Winnie’s voice, his senses befuddled. “Go where?”
“Home.” She climbed out of bed and started dressing. “Esteban is asking for me. They were going to take him into protective custody, but he begged to stay at the safe house. He has a support system there, so they allowed it. For the moment.”
He rolled to the edge of the mattress and stood up, struggling for composure. Winnie had weathered the storm and was visibly pulling herself together with a strength of will Larkin admired deeply. “We’ll take the jet,” he said gruffly. “Once you’re ready, we can be at the airstrip in forty-five minutes.”
Winnie whirled to look at him. Her hair was a mess. Dark smudges underscored her eyes. “You are not going,” she said flatly. “Your family needs you here today. They deserve that.”
Fury rushed over him with the heat of a thousand suns. “And what do you deserve, Winnie? You hired me to keep your little enclave safe.”
“And you did. Admirably. But one of my women broke the rules and paid for it with her life. Any way you slice it, it’s not your battle.”
“This isn’t up for discussion.” He reached around her and turned on the lamp. He was still nude, but he didn’t care.
Winnie glared at him. “Your entire family, every one of them, is gathered here to celebrate your brother-in-law’s birthday. It would be unforgivable of you to disappoint them.”
His fists clenched to keep from pulling her into his arms. “You need someone, Winnie. Someone to stand beside you during all of this.”
She froze, her arms holding a stack of clothes to be tucked into her suitcase. “Don’t say that. This is my problem, my responsibility. I can handle it.”
“I know you can handle it, damn it. But you’re not going to. We’re in this together.”
“No, I…” Her chin wobbled. She didn’t have it in her to fight him. No reserves left at all. Which, he surmised, was the only reason he won the argument.
“Finish getting ready. I’ll call the pilot and get dressed. I’ll be back in less than ten minutes.”
* * *
They left the house in silence, and silence reigned for the entire trip from Wolff Castle to the airstrip. Larkin drove. It meant he had to keep his attention on the road. He wanted badly to comfort Winnie in the only way he knew how, but this was neither the time nor the place for what he had in mind.
On the jet, he thought she would immediately fall asleep. Instead, she kicked off her shoes and tucked her legs beneath her, choosing a seat opposite his. They were served a small snack during preflight checks and taxiing. Once they were airborne, Larkin requested pillows and blankets from the attendant and then asked not to be disturbed.
Winnie was a broken flower stem, her head drooping with fatigue. He didn’t know what to say to her. Even now, his wanting to help was not enough. It never had been.
She stared at him, her gold-and-green eyes hazed with grief. “I don’t think you should be here. But I’m selfish enough to be glad you are.”
His hands clenched the armrests. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else. My sister and all the rest of them will understand.”
“I hope so. You’ve been more than good to me, Larkin. Don’t ever think differently. And though you don’t realize it, you’ve brought me out of a long, deep freeze. You asked me why I do what I do. I think you deserve to know.”
Shock immobilized him for the tick of several seconds. Then he pulled up the two armrests and beckoned her. “Come sit with me, Winnie. You’re too far away.”
She did as he asked. In moments her head was in his lap, the rest of her curled like a child in the cramped length of the two extra seats. He stroked her hair, torn between wanting her to rest and the need to hear the secret she had been unable or unwilling to share before now.
So he waited.
When he put his right arm around her waist, she linked her fingers with his. “It happened when my parents died,” she said, her words drowsy and slow. “Our family lawyer was a man in his early forties. He was so kind to me, so helpful after the tsunami. There were arrangements to be made, decisions to wade through. I wanted to jump on a plane and go there. He convinced me that it would be best to stay home. After photos and videos began to pour in, I knew he was right.”
“But you said the bodies were recovered?”
“Eventually. I had known the lawyer for years as Mr. Parker. He now insisted I call him Mike. And during the funerals, everything…he was right there, holding my hand…literally. I don’t know what I would have done without him.”
Larkin’s left hand fisted at his side. This wasn’t going to be good. “And afterward?”
“He came around a lot. Sometimes even spent the night, always with an excuse about it being too late to drive back into town. I didn’t think a thing about it.”
“But something changed.” Hearing her recitation was tearing him asunder, because he had a fair guess as to what was coming.
“Yes,” she said. “Something changed. One night after dinner, after the housekeeper left, Mike sat down with me in the living room. Told me he wanted to talk about my future. I told him what I was thinking. That I wanted to travel a bit…perhaps get an advanced degree. Then he…”
“Then he what?”
“I had been crying. About my parents. So he kissed me. At first I thought he was just being nice. Trying to make me feel better. But he put his hand on my breast.”
“Goddamn it to hell.” Even forewarned, Larkin wasn’t able to mask his reaction.
Winnie’s whole body tensed beneath his hand. His instinctive outburst had upset her. He clenched his jaw, his breathing shallow.
“I’m sorry, love.” He touched her cheek. “Go on.” If he had to bite off his own tongue, he would listen impassively.
“I didn’t know what to do. It made me uneasy. He was younger than my father, but still old enough to be my parent. It was weird.”
“Did you ask him to stop?”
“I was confused and upset. Maybe I was overreacting. I knew absolutely zero about boys and even less about men. He—”
She stopped short, and Larkin saw that she was blushing, this time not from any kind of sexual pleasure…but from shame. He sat in silence, his heart in shreds, refusing to react so she could finish. But if he’d had his way, the man would be neutered by now.
He squeezed her hand. “It’s okay, Winnie. You don’t have to go through all the details.”
She nodded against his leg. “Well, anyway, that went on for a long time—the touching, I mean—and then he undressed me. I know it makes me sound like the worst kind of ignorant fool, but I didn’t realize what was going to happen. He had taken care of my every need for weeks. It was hard to believe that he would hurt me.”
“But he did.”
Another nod. “He took my virginity against my will. By the time I put up a serious protest, I couldn’t make him stop. It wasn’t particularly violent, just painful and terrifying.”
Larkin shuddered, tears of fury in his eyes. He wiped them with the back of his hand. “I am so sorry.” He could barely get out the words. The unimaginable horror of what she wasn’t saying tormented him. And his brain filled in the rest.
When he thought he could speak calmly, he touched her eyelids, her nose, her soft, per
fect lips. “Then what happened?”
“He went home. Said he would be back in the morning to talk. I found out later that he had a wife and kids waiting for him. I went upstairs and cried myself to sleep. I thought about calling the police, but I knew instinctively that he would deny anything had happened, or that he would spin the story and make me the supplicant. So I rested. And I waited.”
“And in the morning?”
“He came back with legal papers. Told me that it would be in my best interests to let him control my money. That it was clear I was too young to make informed decisions. And that since we were now lovers, he would look out for me.”
“What did you say?”
Winnie sat up, shoving her hair from her face with two hands. A tiny poignant smile brought back a fleeting hint of sunshine to her face. “I said no. He couldn’t believe it. I accused him of raping me. Even in the state I was in, I had enough sense not to let him rationalize what had happened. I was in shock, I know. Too muddled to realize that I should have called the authorities even knowing it would be my word against his. But I told him to leave and never come back. I don’t know where I found the courage, but I think I surprised him.”
“Because he was expecting you to fall in line.”
Winnie grimaced. “Yes.”
“Damn,” Larkin said gruffly. “You are one amazing woman. But I’m guessing he didn’t take that well.” He let her see his admiration, but not his loathing for her attacker. She had refused to be a victim and he would do all in his power to protect that heartbreaking dignity.
“He did not. First, he tried to undress me again. I kneed him in the groin. Then he tried threats. I laughed at him.”
“Ouch.”
“He said some pretty awful things about how no man would ever want me after what had happened and that I was hopeless when it came to sex. For a long time afterward, I believed him.”
“Bastard…”
“Then he threw me into a wall and broke my jaw.”
“Jesus.”
They stared at each other, Winnie’s gaze wary, her arms wrapped around her waist. She shrugged. “He stormed out. I think the blood scared him. I called an ambulance and ended up having surgery. When it was all over, I found a decent lawyer and filed charges. Mike is now serving an extended sentence in a federal pen.”
Taming the Lone Wolff Page 16
