Sophie’s father had always been busy working when she was growing up and so had never been a particularly hands-on parent to start with. But after the death of his wife, he had become even less so, often distracted and impatient when they met up for those monthly dinners.
Also, as Tillman had now revealed, at the same time, her father had started embezzling money from his less than morally or legally upstanding employer.
Sophie had been at university when her mother was diagnosed with cancer and died just a few short weeks later, but Sophie had come back to London immediately to grieve and console her father. Within a couple of months, her father had told her he was selling the house where she had grown up, because the memories of continuing to live there were too painful for him. Sophie had acquired the job as receptionist at Steele Protectors and moved into her own apartment. She had thought both would be temporary, having every intention of returning to university to finish her degree in history sometime in the future.
Being introduced to Rourke Steele—tall, dark, handsome, and charming—on the second day of her employment, and being instantly attracted to him, had lessened her ardor for returning to university. Three years later and Sophie was still working as the receptionist at the offices of Steele Protectors.
And she was now totally in love with Rourke Steele.
Not just the suave and charming man who always wore three-piece suits, silk shirts, and ties. The same man Rourke chose to reveal to his family and everyone else. But Sophie was aware of the darkness occasionally glimpsed in his chocolate-brown eyes when Rourke thought no one was looking at him. At those times, the normal half smile would disappear from his sculpted lips, those brown irises growing so dark they would melt into the black pupils, and there would be a brittle tension to his body that looked as if it might snap at the slightest provocation. That he might snap at the slightest provocation.
Sophie felt a shiver of pleasure down the length of her spine just thinking about that darker side of him. She loved the whole package, the dark as well as the charming.
A futile love, because after all this time, Sophie knew Rourke well enough to know he preferred to wine, dine, and bed a woman before sending her on her way. As far as she was aware, he didn’t do repeats either.
One look at the bored and jaded expression on Rourke’s face at the wedding today was enough to reveal that cynicism wasn’t about to change anytime soon. The fact that Sophie had been working alongside him for three years without him showing so much as a single spark of interest toward her, also told her—
“The Boss want answers, bitch.” The man holding her captive gave her an ungentle shake at her lack of response to his threat. The fingers he dug into her arms would no doubt leave bruises. “And he wants them by the end of the week. Or someone, you or your father, or possibly both, is going to die.”
Sophie had a feeling Zachary Tillman intended to see one or both of them dead whether he got his money back or not, and that a painful death worked as well for him as a mercy killing.
“Are you listening to me, bitch?”
“Of course I’m listening to you,” she snapped, tired of being pushed around and threatened this past week. “You literally have a captive audience!”
“You need to be taught a lesson, you uppity bitch.”
“I should warn you I’m going to take exception to it if you call her by that derogatory word one more time,” a soft voice put in calmly.
The man holding Sophie captive was wrenched away so suddenly, she stumbled again and had to grasp the trunk of one of the numerous palm trees in this tropical garden to regain her balance before she was able to turn and look at the two men.
Just in time to watch the struggle between Rourke and the man who, seconds ago, had held her securely while issuing dire threats to her own and her father’s continued well-being.
Sophie couldn’t help but wonder how much of that conversation Rourke had overheard.
Chapter Two
“They do say that it can’t be classed as being a truly successful wedding until there’s been at least one punch-up,” Rourke drawled as he easily held the other man at bay with a hand about his throat. He ignored the fingers clawing at his wrist for release, and instead turned to pin Sophie with his narrowed gaze. “Be prepared for the two of us to have a comprehensive conversation as soon as I’ve disposed of the garbage.”
“Who are you calling garbage?” the thug cut in aggressively.
“I have absolutely no idea who you are, and even less interest in knowing,” Rourke answered disdainfully. “But I don’t have a single doubt what you are, which is a cowardly bastard who gets off on verbally bullying and physically pushing women around.”
“You don’t know fuck—” The man broke off the tirade when the fingers tightened about his throat enough to cut off his air supply.
Rourke thrust his face close the other man’s. “At the moment I am debating whether to break all your fingers for even daring to touch Sophie with them, so I wouldn’t advise you to get too lippy.”
“Fuck off!”
Rourke smiled pleasantly. “I’m only going to say this once, so I advise you listen,” he said mildly. “When I release you, I want you to leave. Quickly and quietly. And when you do, remember the only reason I’m letting you go is because I don’t think Sophie needs to see your blood all over this beautiful garden. But even one misstep on your part on the way out is likely to earn you the beating I am totally in the mood to give you,” he warned the man calmly. “Are you going to be a good boy and do as you’re told?”
The man’s face suffused with angry color at Rourke’s deliberately condescending tone. “You can go fuck yourself!”
“Your choice of vocabulary needs broadening.” Rourke’s voice remained calm as he used his hand around the other man’s throat to haul him across to the glass door opening back into the hotel. “If you come near Sophie again,” he whispered once they were out of her earshot, “then next time the two of us meet, you won’t be walking away. Am I making myself clear?”
Dark eyes flashed resentment. “Abso-fucking-lutely. But—”
“I’m not accepting any buts today,” Rourke warned softly. “You either do what you’re told.” He reached into the breast pocket of the other man’s jacket to take out and flick open his wallet. His driver’s license was tucked inside, the number all Rourke would need to have Haydn find the other man’s address for him. “Thanks, Jack.” He pushed the wallet back into the man’s jacket pocket. Jack Henderson, according to his driver’s license. “Or,” he continued pleasantly as he released the other man, “you can expect a visit from me when you least expect it.”
The other man rubbed at his bruised throat. “You’re the one who’ll be receiving a visit from me, you arrogant fuck.”
“I don’t think so.” Rourke removed the blue silk handkerchief from the breast pocket of his morning jacket and carefully wiped the touch of the other man from his skin before pushing the silk into his trouser pocket. “Still here?” He raised questioning brows.
The thug’s mouth twisted. “You won’t think you’re so fucking smug when we pay you that visit.”
“We?” Rourke echoed. “Does that mean you’re too cowardly to come and face me on your own?”
“I could take you, easy,” the man blustered.
“Of course you could,” Rourke taunted.
“You’re going to regret messing with me,” the other man snarled.
“On the contrary, I’m already looking forward to when the two of us meet again,” Rourke assured.
Whatever Rourke’s intention was with this attitude, Sophie knew he was only succeeding in enraging the man who had just threatened her as a reminder she only had one week left to find her father and the money he had stolen from Zachary Tillman.
Sophie hoped to find both. Locate her father and she would find the money too, had been her reasoning. Except her father didn’t want to be found, and now Sophie was the one having to continually
pay the price for his having embezzled money from the wrong man.
She hadn’t even begun to deal with the emotional shock of that realization yet.
Of course, it had to be Rourke who came to her rescue today and not one of the other five Steele brothers. Because Sophie had absolutely no doubt that “comprehensive conversation” Rourke told her the two of them would be having would be mainly her telling him what was going on in her life right now and him demanding to know why she hadn’t told any of them about it before today.
“Your bag and shoe, Cinderella.”
Sophie looked up from checking for messages on her cell to see if there were any from her father, something she did a dozen times a day—there were none—to see Rourke standing in front of her. He was holding out her clutch bag and the high-heeled sandal she had lost in the scuffle earlier, that half smile remaining on his lips even if his eyes remained black swirls of angry turmoil.
“He decided to leave after all,” Rourke drawled when Sophie looked to where the other man had been standing just seconds ago. “From the little I overheard, I’m guessing not a disgruntled ex-boyfriend?”
Sophie shuddered. “Absolutely not.” She was no more fooled by the mildness of Rourke’s tone than Tillman’s thug had been. Or reassured by Rourke’s implication he hadn’t overheard too much of their conversation.
She knew Rourke’s moods well enough to know when he was pissed, and right now, he was beyond that. No doubt part of Rourke’s anger would be due to the fact Sophie hadn’t confided she was having a problem to any of the Steele brothers, but most especially that she hadn’t spoken to him.
Sophie kept her gaze down as she tucked the bag under her arm and took the sandal from him before balancing on her other foot and slipping it back on. She felt a little less like Orphan Annie now that she was back on an even keel height-wise.
Not that it made a lot of difference. At only five feet two inches tall without the four-inch high heels, she still had to look up, and then up again, to be able to look Rourke in the eye.
Dark eyes that narrowed as a warning for her not to even think about bullshitting him. Nothing but the truth was going to satisfy Rourke. His next words confirmed it. “So who’s The Boss?”
Yes, Rourke had definitely heard enough of that conversation not to be fobbed off with less than the truth. “Could we wait until after the weekend to talk about this?”
“No.”
She winced at his inflexible tone. “People will wonder where you are if you don’t return to the wedding reception soon.”
“Then they’ll have to wonder,” Rourke rasped, dark eyes glittering. “Because you aren’t going anywhere until I know why that guy followed you to the hotel and then out into the garden before attacking and threatening you. He did follow you to the hotel rather than being a random stranger?”
Her lashes lowered, and she knew there was no point in lying. “Yes.”
“Look at me when you’re speaking to me and not at your damned feet!”
Sophie quickly raised her head and forced herself to meet that dark and unfathomable gaze. A single glance was enough to tell her she would be a fool to answer Rourke with anything but the truth. Right now, he looked dangerous.
She moistened her lips before speaking. “There has been a…little misunderstanding between my father and his employer.”
“That employer being The Boss?”
“Yes.”
“I told you to look at me when you speak, Sophie,” Rourke bit out harshly.
Her head automatically shot back up. She hadn’t even realized she had looked down again until Rourke brought her to task over it. Heat bloomed in her cheeks when she saw the look of satisfaction on Rourke’s too-handsome face at her immediate compliance.
Her chin rose. “Stop telling me what to do.”
“But I like telling you what to do,” he taunted.
“Well, I don’t,” she snapped.
“No?”
She breathed out noisily. “I’m sure that some people find this badass act intimidating, but you don’t scare me!”
“Unfortunately, for you, it isn’t an act.” His smile lacked humor. “I believe your own opinion in that regard is currently being influenced by three years of dealing with the charming and affable Rourke.”
She slowly moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “And that isn’t you right now, is it?”
“No, that isn’t me right now,” he confirmed. “And I’m still waiting for you to give me the name of The Boss,” he reminded in a hard voice.
“Why?” Sophie sounded exasperated. “So you can pay him a visit and beat the crap out of him too?”
He snorted. “I came nowhere near beating the crap out of the guy who just left.”
“If I hadn’t been here—”
“If you weren’t here, then the situation would never have arisen in the first place,” Rourke pointed out mildly, reining back on his anger with effort.
He had seen red the moment he realized that thug had Sophie in a body hold, with one of his arms wrapped about her chest easily holding her captive. Nor had that anger abated after Rourke had gone into rescue mode and freed Sophie before knowing the satisfaction of having one of his hands wrapped about the other man’s throat. Jack Henderson was lucky Rourke hadn’t broken the man’s hand for even daring to touch Sophie. As it was, the memory of that man having his hands on her was going to fucking haunt Rourke.
It wasn’t surprising Sophie still looked badly shaken by the other man’s attack. Having Rourke now browbeat her for answers on top of that probably wasn’t the best idea.
“Sorry.” Sophie’s gaze was once again lowered, and Rourke didn’t pick her up on it this time. He had pushed Caveman Rourke firmly back in his cage and turned the key in the lock.
“Sorry for what?” he prompted softly.
“All that.” The wave of her hand encompassed everything that had taken place in the last ten minutes. “It’s the last thing anyone wants to deal with at a family wedding.”
Rourke shrugged. “I told you, every wedding needs one good punch-up.”
Sophie could see that Rourke, rather than seeming in any way upset, instead looked invigorated by the confrontation with Jack Henderson. Whereas she was badly shaken and also now positive she was going to have bruises on her arm from where the other man had held her so tightly.
Rourke straightened. “So, if you don’t want to talk here, I suggest we rejoin the wedding party, take one turn about the dance floor together, and then make our excuses and leave. Sound good to you?”
All except the part where Sophie returned to the wedding reception with Rourke, the two of them danced, and then made their excuses and left together!
Sophie might have successfully hidden her feelings from Rourke for the past three years, but she doubted the rest of the Steele family were as blind. None of the brothers were stupid, far from it, and their mother, Joanne Steele, was also in complete matchmaking mode now that three of her sons were engaged or married. The older woman would no doubt relish seeing Rourke and Sophie leave together.
Sophie’s chin lifted. “I suggest you go back to the wedding reception, make my excuses to the bride and groom, and the two of us never talk of this subject again.”
“Have you met me before today, Sophie?” he mocked.
“Yes, I have, and on none of those occasions did you come across as a dominating prick.”
He gave an unconcerned grin. “I usually save that side of me for the bedroom.”
Sophie’s cheeks suddenly felt hot merely from thinking of being dominated by Rourke in the bedroom. “This situation is something private that I have—need to deal with myself.” She steered the conversation back to the subject at hand.
Contrary to Rourke’s deliberate baiting of the other man, the last thing Sophie wanted was for any of the Steele brothers to be dragged into this situation and end up being hurt by any of Tillman’s henchmen.
Rourke shook his head. “No
t happening.” His tone brooked no argument. “Even now, Henderson—the guy who just attacked you,” he explained as she frowned. “He might be waiting outside the hotel for you. Could easily bundle you into the back of an SUV and have his accomplice drive off before anyone is even aware of what’s happening.”
Sophie felt her cheeks pale. “You aren’t being reassuring.”
“I wasn’t meaning to be.”
“You told him to stay away from me.”
“You heard that?”
“Yes.”
He nodded. “And ordinarily, I would trust that threat to have been enough to warn him off. But from his lack of anything to say other than fuck this or fuck that, I think Jack has probably received one too many punches to the head already and doesn’t recognize a genuine warning when he hears it. Do you really want to take that risk?”
Did she?
The man had delivered his message to her from Zachary Tillman, both the verbal one and in physically threatening her. But that didn’t mean, after his encounter with Rourke, that he wouldn’t derive great pleasure from abducting her and meting out his own form of punishment. The fact Jack Henderson had dared to attack her in the garden of a London hotel confirmed Sophie alone was certainly a lot more vulnerable than when she was in Rourke’s company.
“Sophie, I’m really not deliberately trying to scare you.” He grimaced in apology. “I do think you need to share whatever is going on in your life rather than keeping it all bottled up inside you. You must know that we consider you and the other employees at Steele Protectors as family.”
Sophie didn’t need any reminding that Rourke didn’t see her as anything other than another employee at Steele Protectors. Even if those employees were considered family.
“We can help,” he insisted. “The brothers—except for Logan, who is shortly leaving for his honeymoon destination, wherever that is—will all want to help you. All you have to do is tell us what the hell is going on in your life.”
That was all Sophie had to do?
Rourke could have no idea how serious this situation was. Her father’s embezzlement. His disappearance. Most humiliating of all, what looked like Sophie’s father having callously abandoned her to face Tillman’s wrath and threats.
Rourke (Steele Protectors 4) Page 2
