Pervade Montego Bay

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Pervade Montego Bay Page 18

by Fewings, Vanessa


  He hesitated. “She was with Louis?”

  “Apparently.”

  “Who was this guy you talked to?”

  “Can we discuss this later?”

  “Meet me in the foyer,” he snapped.

  I made it there before him and then paced its length until he arrived.

  James appeared from the west hallway. “I’m sure she hasn’t gone far.”

  “If anything happens to her—”

  He shook his head. “We need to get her a phone. I was waiting…”

  “For what?”

  “Doesn’t matter now.”

  “You were waiting for us to leave the island?” I glared at him.

  “Let’s focus on finding her.”

  He continued down the marble curved stairway and from there we accessed a spacious kitchen. Two empty glasses had been left on the counter. One of them had a smudge of soft pink lipstick on the rim. Same color Emily was wearing.

  He reached for a glass and brought it to his nose. “Rum.”

  “Where would he take her?”

  James was already walking through another doorway, hurrying to find Emily.

  James

  I shoved my way through the kitchen door.

  Tonight’s plan had been simple—attend tonight’s charity event and support one of Louis’ favorite philanthropic pursuits. Which meant I was here for him one hundred percent. The least I could do considering I was strict in so many ways. I could keep an eye on him during his one public appearance of the year.

  Secondly, make sure Xavier and Emily had a great time. They needed to dance, and laugh, and party hard. They needed time together.

  It was imperative I stayed out of their way—watch them from afar and allow them to reestablish their relationship. They were falling in love with each other all over again and it was too precious for anyone to interfere with.

  This was their time.

  Ironic that it had been me who’d torn them apart before. Now, I was thrusting them together with the last remnants of my heart.

  Xavier’s proposal of marriage had me questioning everything. Pressing my hand to my breast pocket, I considered the best way to return the ring. Not tonight, obviously. Tomorrow, when they’d had time to recover from this soirée where the rum flowed freely and the mood was high and they both had a chance to finally let go.

  Why the hell was Xavier making this hard on me? He knew I always got what I wanted…what I needed. And what I needed was for them to be happy together and have a certain future.

  This would be a lot easier if I wasn’t about to be around Emily again. Keeping my distance from her had been a grand idea. Though her disappearance was making us both antsy.

  There was no getting in or out of this party without my team monitoring it, and Emily had not left the property, apparently. She’d last been observed entering the home. So there was that, at least.

  A red light was on above the closed door ahead.

  “They’re in his darkroom,” I said.

  Xavier stepped forward and banged on the door. “Em? You in there?”

  “You can’t come in,” Louis’ voice rose from behind the door.

  “Open the door, please,” said Xavier.

  “I’m sure they’re processing a photo,” I reassured him.

  Xavier rested his forehead against the door. “Em?”

  “The light will ruin it,” Louis called out.

  Xavier growled in frustration.

  We waited a full sixty seconds, though it felt longer, then the door opened.

  Louis blinked at us through the dimness. “I’ve made a new friend. Can I keep this one, James?”

  “Yes,” I said. “You can keep her.”

  Because soon it wouldn’t matter. Emily would be off the island and far away. Right now, Louis was lonely, and I probably had more to do with that than I cared to admit. In truth, I didn’t want her caught up in his drama. And on the flipside, it was my job to protect him. His life was in my hands.

  Emily was peering into a large dish filled with chemicals. “I’ve developed my first photo!”

  Xavier smiled with pride and then said, “Careful of your dress.”

  “Of course.”

  The scent from the development process was sour. Above it rose the notes of Emily’s perfume. From here, I could see the soft red lighting outlined her silhouette.

  Being this close felt like torture. Her red dress clung to her curves and nudged up her breasts. I wanted to lean in and kiss her throat and work my way down her neck. I wanted to peel away the material covering her pert nipples. I wanted to catch them between my teeth and suckle, hear her moan, feel her come around my cock.

  If it was true she wasn’t wearing panties, not touching her tonight would be impossible.

  Somewhat reluctantly, she looked at Xavier. “Louis is so talented. Have you seen these?”

  “Yes,” he said. “He’s a great photographer.”

  Funny coming from Xavier, who had almost barreled into his darkroom.

  “I’ll photograph you both,” Louis offered with forgiveness in his tone. “If you like.”

  “Em?” Her name had been burning the tip of my tongue all evening. The same tongue that wanted to taste her.

  “Louis has been taking good care of me,” she said brightly, still not looking at me.

  “My pleasure, Miss Emily,” he said.

  “Thank you for showing me your wonderful photos, Louis,” she said softly.

  He bowed reverently. “An honor.”

  With her head down, she walked out without looking at me and continued along the hallway.

  “Go after her,” whispered Xavier.

  “Why?”

  “She’s headed outside.” He pulled out his phone and showed me a photo on the screen. “His name’s Trevor. I think he’s a journalist.”

  “Is he?” I asked Louis.

  Xavier showed him the photo on his screen.

  Louis scrunched his nose. “I haven’t told him anything.”

  “You’ve met him before?” I said sternly. “You failed to share this with me.”

  Louis gave a shrug. “Didn’t think anything of it.”

  Shit.

  Emily was heading in the journalist’s direction.

  Her hips were swaying elegantly, and she looked stunning in her gown. She stood out like a rare jewel. When she played her violin, she’d have everyone swarming around her, commanding their attention.

  Barefoot, holding those strappy heels in her hand, she walked across the marble tile emanating the kind of freedom I coveted. Maybe that was why she held such an allure. Emily was everything I wanted and could never have. She was a mirror to my solitude. The beauty to my beast. The way her hair curled in luscious waves down her back made me want to brush my fingers through their silkiness.

  I wanted to breathe her in and stay in that moment.

  “I was going to tell you about the journalist,” said Louis quietly. “Didn’t want to ruin your evening.”

  “It’s fine,” I told him. “I’ll handle it.”

  After a glance at Xavier that told him to watch over Louis, I bolted after Emily.

  Once outside, I saw her pulling on her shoes, seemingly unaware that a young man was making a beeline toward her—it was the journalist from the photo.

  Soon, we’d have his entire life dissected and all his weaknesses presented to me on a platter. Journalists could play dirty. I’d raise the stakes to my level and play deadly.

  I cut him off and made it to Emily first. “Dance.”

  With my hand gripping hers, I led her away from the stranger. His stare stayed on us all the way to the dance floor. I could give the order to throw him out but that would only rile his curiosity. We needed a strategy that would extract him artfully.

  Emily and I weaved between the tables until we reached the space where several other couples were smooching to Bob Marley’s “Is this Love.”

  Fuck, why did it have to be this song?


  “You’re talking to me again?” she muttered under her breath.

  “Evidently.” I pulled her into a hug.

  “I’m honored.”

  With her right hand in mine and my left hand on the arch of her spine, I led her in a slow circle.

  Don’t think about the fact she’s pantiless.

  “Why are you avoiding me, James?”

  “Let’s discuss this at home.” I glanced back at Trevor, relieved to see he was no longer watching us.

  “Home?”

  I snapped my focus back to her. “My place.”

  “Right.”

  “We believe he’s a journalist, Emily.”

  “He wanted to talk with Louis. Why?”

  My body went rigid with tension. “Not sure. There’s no news here.” A lie I almost believed.

  She moved closer and her pelvis brushed mine.

  My cock stirred from having her so close. “Could you stop that, please?” I said.

  “Stop what?” She looked puzzled.

  Her crime was pressing her body against mine. My crime was I couldn’t resist getting hard for her. This was why it was imperative I kept my distance. Being this close made my body react in inconvenient ways. Her perfume caused my senses to reel.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “Do you know his last name?” I asked.

  “Louis called him Trevor, but I don’t know if that’s a first or last name.”

  “Then we’ll work with that.”

  “I don’t like him.”

  “I hope you didn’t talk with him?”

  “Give me some credit.” She huffed her frustration. “Why are you being like this?”

  “You mean cautious?”

  “With me?”

  “Just need to be sure no one misspeaks—”

  “You doubt my ability to be discreet?”

  “Let’s enjoy the dance.” It was probably our last.

  That thought struck me like a fucking arrow. I felt the shock of it deep in my chest.

  She was studying my reaction. “Is he dangerous?”

  I kept my attention on the crowd.

  She sighed heavily. “Can we call a truce?”

  “Sure.”

  “I like Louis.”

  “He’s a great guy.”

  “You’re very protective of him.”

  “As I am of you and Xavier.”

  “Why is Trevor so interested in him?”

  “He’s having trouble finding a story, I’m assuming. He’s turned his sights on a private man.”

  “I’m just going to come out and say it, James.”

  “As if I could stop you.”

  “You’re hurting Xavier.”

  Really? Because I was the one throwing myself onto my sword—for both of them, no less.

  She squeezed my hand. “Why?”

  “Xavier’s the better man, Em. You’d do well to remember that.”

  “You’re a good man, too.”

  “You watched me throw a man off a yacht to his death. For most people, that would be the proof they need of my true character.”

  “You were saving my life.”

  “And mine.”

  “You took your revenge for your wife’s murder. Now it’s over.”

  I glared at her. “I told you not to board the yacht.”

  “No, you told me not to visit the Embassy.”

  “Are you riling me up on purpose?”

  “You should have been clearer.”

  “Em, are you deliberately crossing me?”

  She tried to pull away.

  My arm wrapped around her tighter. “Stay and suffer the consequences.”

  “What are those?”

  “My wrath.”

  “Is that what this is? Are you punishing me because I messed up in London?”

  “Partially.”

  “I know your secret, James.”

  My brow furrowed at her insinuation. “What are you talking about?”

  She looked triumphant. Studying her, I tried to work out what she knew.

  “Your face gives it away,” she whispered.

  “Come with me.”

  We headed back toward the house with me pulling her along and doing my best to look as natural as possible. Having that journalist set his laser sights on us as we hurried past him pissed me off. Who the hell let him in?

  Emily stumbled and I caught her.

  “James—”

  If she knew about this house and what we had hidden within…

  Impossible.

  The chill of air conditioning hit us when we entered the mansion.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  I guided her along the hallway and into a room that served as a study. There was nothing personal in here—it was merely a set piece should anyone visit. Emily certainly didn’t need to know about this ruse of staged areas, one after the other, to make it look like a normal home that didn’t protect the most precious of people.

  She pulled away from me. “I know this is hard for you, James.”

  “Who told you?” I was going to fucking kill them.

  Would Xavier have shared this—a secret so well-guarded that men were prepared to die to keep it? Surely not Louis? He knew better by now.

  I towered over her. “You will tell me everything you know.”

  She looked around. “I know he’s the most important person in your life.”

  Emily

  There was something odd about this study. Maybe part of the reason it seemed “off” to me was because I had James staring me down. Still, the room looked impersonal, as though no one ever came in here.

  James stared at me. “Who are we talking about exactly?”

  I folded my arms across my chest.

  It didn’t feel like the right time to ask him if he was a father—I’d bring up that subject later when he’d calmed down. His behavior led me to believe I was on to something. James was acting protective towards Louis—and this house, too.

  But getting to the bottom of all that intrigue could wait a while longer. He seemed to be in denial about his true feelings for me, but I had proof.

  “Xavier’s been teaching me Russian,” I said, smiling.

  His jaw clenched with frustration. “Why?”

  Languages were his thing. James was a linguist and was even fluent in Russian. He may not be as profoundly intelligent as Xavier, but he was brilliant nonetheless—the total package if you were into dark and dangerous.

  It was like stepping into the thick of night and getting lost and yet I couldn’t stop chasing after him into the blackness. I knew deep down he was a good man. More than this, Xavier needed him.

  I need him.

  Standing my ground, I delivered the truth. “When we were on Renaldo Zane’s yacht, you spoke to me in Russian. Now I know what you said.”

  I’d defied his order to attend the event on board and had joined my fellow students from the Royal Academy to play for visiting dignitaries. Admittedly, some had been Russians, though not all. But I’d ended up mingling with the bloody KGB—unintentionally, of course.

  Diana Zane, Renaldo’s wife, had been there, too. My childhood hero had led me down to the lowest level of the yacht and had nudged me into a cabin. Waiting for me had been a dark stranger who sat quietly in the corner, hidden by shadows. He’d ordered me to play for him. I had obeyed, full of trepidation. My sinister audience of one had tried to intimidate me. But when that man had stepped out of the shadows, I saw that it was James.

  Xavier had once told me my recklessness was why I’d been willing to open myself up to these men and their passionate world…and their dangerous existence.

  James frowned. “Xavier was listening in that evening.”

  “You had an earpiece in, remember? Xavier was monitoring your safety aboard The Venetian. He overheard everything that happened in the cabin between us. Everything you said to me after I played my violin for you.”

  James ra
ked his fingers through his hair. “He told you.”

  Raising my chin high I repeated his words that day. “Play for me, little Kitty.”

  Recognition flashed across his face. “Em…”

  “С первого момента, как я встретил тебя, я влюбился в тебя,” I said, quoting his Russian. He’d spoken those words believing I’d never know what they meant.

  “Well, now you have me believing you’re a Russian agent,” he said dryly.

  “You told me you loved me in Russian, James.”

  “That’s a pretty good guess at what was—”

  “From the first moment I met you,” I interpreted his exact words. “I fell in love with you.”

  “Impressive.”

  “You love me. Why are you pushing me away?”

  “I kept you apart from Xavier, Em. I tried my best to destroy your relationship. Why have you forgiven me?”

  “Because I love you.”

  He gave a slow nod. “I brought you to this island…to undo the damage I did to you and Xavier.”

  “You told me it was to get him back.”

  “That was inevitable.”

  It made my heart do a flip to know he wanted to make amends.

  “You want this, Em?” He stepped forward and wrapped his hand around my throat. “My brand of hell?”

  My fingers wrapped around his as I tried to loosen his grip, the hint of pain in my throat stirring arousal.

  “There’s no changing me,” he said. “No making me a better man.”

  “I love who you are.”

  “Have you even considered what kind of life you will have if you and Xavier and I stay together?”

  “I will always love you…no matter what.”

  “I didn’t ask for that.”

  “I’ve given it a great deal of thought.” I let go of his hand. “You and I could have a child—”

  He released me and stepped back. “You’d be willing to carry a child from us both?

  “Of course.”

  “But that would make you a whore, Em.”

  I slapped his face, hard, but he didn’t move. He merely closed his eyes for a moment, his expression unreadable.

  “This is about love,” I stuttered out.

  “You deserve better.”

  “I deserve honesty.” I bit my lip in anger. “You brought me here. You need a resolution and so do I.”

 

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