Garret, whose face was starting to turn a little blue, shoved his arms against Joseph’s chest. He stepped back, letting his brother drop, not that he fell far. Garret always landed on his feet.
Garret sucked in a few deep breaths. “Jesus, chill.”
“Our mate will be protected and cared for as is her due.”
“What the hell did you think I would drag her into? I wouldn’t take her anywhere dangerous.”
“The whole of Oldstown is dangerous!” Joe was incredulous.
“It’s not that bad. And besides she’d be with me.” Garret grinned, seemingly unperturbed his brother had been trying to choke him to death just minutes earlier.
“She will not. She will be here. Safely behind the castle walls and the safeguards we’ve laid out.” Where no one would ever touch her except them.
Garret narrowed his eyes. “What do you expect? For her to just sit around and sip tea all day?”
Of course, he didn’t. She’d be far too busy to sip tea. Joe hadn’t had anything but his own hand for company in the last hundred or so years, he would have plenty of ideas to keep their mate occupied for at least a century anyway.
“You’re not going to go looking for her. Even if you do, you won’t find her. The legend has never failed. You will wait. Be patient.”
* * *
Okay, so the inside of the castle was nothing like she’d been expecting. She felt disappointed.
She’d kind of assumed the austere outside was just camouflage. That inside she’d find rich carpets, luxurious drapes, and gold-framed portraits on the walls. That she’d have to tiptoe around gorgeous antiques and test out a few thrones.
But the inside was as dark and cold as the outside. Most of the floors were slate. The drapes looked like they might have been luxurious at some point, but now they just looked dusty and old.
The walls were filled with paintings, but not portraits of richly-dressed ancestors. Well, not unless those ancestors had been bears. She snorted. Someone had a real obsession with big grizzlies. There were statues of bears, paintings of bears, she’d half-expected to walk into a room and find a bear skin on the floor or a stuffed bear head over the mantle.
This place might be a bust. Maybe these guys were never seen in Oldstown because they were dead, or they’d run their fortune into the ground and escaped this dusty mausoleum years ago. She continued to wander on, but her hopes of finding a pile of gold were fast dwindling.
Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and it was now approaching dusk. It had taken her longer than she’d anticipated to climb the wall surrounding this place. Honestly, would it have hurt them to make it a few feet shorter? There had been several times she’d slipped and thought she was going to fall to her death before she’d caught herself.
Thankfully, it was old and worn and had plenty of crevices in the stone to grab hold of, or she’d could have ended up in a worse state than Humpty Dumpty. She should head home before someone noticed she was gone. Of course, that could take a while. She sighed. When it came down to it, she had a roof over her head, food to eat, and a family–if you could call a group of criminals family–who kind of cared about her.
Maybe she’d just grab a little something to snack on during her trip home. She could return another day. It was going to take her longer than an hour to search this place. Probably all the gold was held in a vault in the basement.
Yeah, that had to be it.
Now, where the heck was the kitchen in this place?
* * *
Patience? Garret snorted. Since when had he been known for having any patience? He wanted what he wanted, and he wanted it now. And he’d decided what he really wanted was his mate.
Well, he couldn’t find her on an empty stomach, he knew that much for sure. He strode into the kitchen and turned towards the large, walk-in pantry, coming to a stop just outside the open doorway.
Well, now, this was interesting.
An intruder. He watched as the person, who was dressed in black jeans, a black hoodie, and gray sneakers, reached up on tippy-toe for something on the higher shelf.
Short, he noted. Slim too. Obviously hungry. Someone from Oldstown who thought they’d find themselves a free meal at the castle? And possibly more? Rumors of their gold had existed for years. But no one had ever managed to get through the booby-traps Sawyer had set, let alone over the wall and into the castle.
And he certainly hadn’t expected that their first intruder would be a woman.
How old was she? And what the hell did she think she was doing?
As she grabbed the box of Twinkies he’d placed up high on purpose, he knew he had to act. Twinkies were expensive and they were hard to come by. They were also his favorite.
“Put the Twinkies down gently and step back slowly,” he said in his most commanding voice.
The petite intruder froze then turned, hands in the air, box of Twinkies held precariously high over her head.
He frowned. “I said, put the Twinkies down.”
* * *
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
She stood there, frozen on the spot and stared at the man standing a few feet away. He was grinning. Good sign. He was blocking the only way out. Bad sign.
He looked relaxed. Good sign.
But he was big. And muscular. Bad sign.
Fuck.
Yeah, she really needed to get past that. Think, Gigi. Why hadn’t she left when her stomach started rumbling instead of spending twenty minutes searching for the pantry? And how had she let him sneak up on her? She should have been on high alert.
It was the Twinkies’ fault. She’d nearly cried when she’d seen them up on the shelf. She hadn’t had Twinkies in so long she’d forgotten what they tasted like.
He raised his eyebrows. “Am I going to have to fight you for them?”
“What?”
Fight? Oh, shit. She was in trouble if he wanted to fight. He was a head taller than her and at least a hundred pounds heavier. Gigi was a lightweight. She barely reached five-foot-two and she could get the scales to read a 100 if she wore seven layers of clothes and her heaviest boots.
“The Twinkies. Put them down slowly and no one will get hurt.”
“You are threatening to hurt me over Twinkies?” She couldn’t really blame him. They were sooo good. And she’d nearly had her hands on one. Why couldn’t he have come along ten minutes later? She’d have been in a delicious sugary food coma. He could have done what he liked, and she wouldn’t have cared.
“I’d hurt my own mother over Twinkies,” he warned.
Wow. Okay. This guy liked his sweets. She set the box down.
“And step away.”
She stepped back. “The Twinkies are safe now.”
“Yes. They are.”
He gave her a meaningful look. Shit.
“You have no reason to hurt me now.”
“Oh, don’t I?” An eyebrow rose. Damn, he was hot. Movie star hot. His dark brown hair hung a little past his ears and curled at the ends. He had the beginnings of a beard, twinkling brown eyes, and a smile that would make a lesser woman bend at the knees.
A lesser woman? Hell, who was she kidding? Her insides were a pile of goo at her feet.
“How did you get in here?” he asked.
“Ah, I walked in.”
“Really? How’d you get over the wall?”
“The gate was open,” she lied.
“That so? That’s remiss. What about all the booby-traps in the forest beyond?”
“There are traps? I didn’t run into them.” All the times she’d watched her brother lie so easily seemed to be paying off. She could do this. She’d bluff her way out, and in a few days’ time she’d remember this and laugh.
Yeah. That’s what would happen.
“And the signs? Did you miss them too?”
What? Miss two hundred signs telling trespassers to leave and th
reatening all sort of bodily harm to those who passed? Be pretty hard to miss those. Before she’d realized that one of the tunnels came out close to the gates, she’d run into many of those signs searching for a way to get closer to the castle. They kept most honest folks away. The snares stopped the rest.
One of her brother’s top enforcers had decided to do a bit of exploration one day, motivated by the stories of the riches held in the castle. He’d returned a day later covered in blood, missing his right ear and half his hand. There’d been a few idiots who’d tried since, but none had been successful.
Finally, tired of his men coming home injured and maimed, her brother had forbidden anyone else from entering these forests.
Maybe it would have paid to have listened to him. Wasn’t hindsight a grand and annoying thing?
“There were signs?”
“Yes. There are signs. To warn people about the traps. There are still idiots that ignore them, though.”
She narrowed her gaze. Was he calling her an idiot?
“I wouldn’t know about any of that. I work here.”
All right, it was probably a stupid thing to say. But he wasn’t one of the Bjorn brothers. They had to be in their sixties at least, right? So maybe this guy worked for them. That could be it. Whoever he was, she’d made her bluff and she was sticking to it.
“You work here, huh?” His eyes widened in surprise and then that smug grin was back. “And what was it you were hired to do?”
“Cook.” She had to hide a wince. She didn’t have a clue how to cook. She wasn’t even allowed in the damn kitchens back in the compound. If her brother had his way she’d be confined to her bedroom until she was eighty.
Right now, that wasn’t sounding like such a stupid idea.
“You’re a cook, huh? You usually eat so much while you’re cooking?” He looked down at the mess of wrappers and containers she’d left on the floor. “Hope you clean up after yourself. Since we don’t have a maid.”
She swallowed heavily. “And who are you? What do you do?”
His grin widened. “I’m the guy who’s going to test out this cooking.”
“Fuck,” she muttered to herself.
“What was that?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“Good. Just a word of warning, my brother doesn’t like his staff to swear. Especially not his female staff. He’s old-fashioned.”
“Your brother?”
“I assume that’s who hired you?”
“Oh, yes, your brother. Uh-huh.” She nodded her head like an idiot. Was this guy one of the three Bjorn brothers then? But that wasn’t possible, right? Unless he was related to them? Maybe he lived here and took care of the place?
Crap. What was she going to do? Because she seemed to be digging herself a bigger and bigger hole. Even worse, she got the feeling this guy was just playing with her, waiting for the moment when he would give her a little nudge, and she’d bury herself in that hole.
“It’s nearly dinner time what are you cooking?”
“Cooking?”
“You are the cook, right?”
He was now looking at her like he thought she might be a few beers short of a six-pack. Which was kind of on par with how she was feeling.
“You want me to cook dinner?”
“I figured that was in your job description? That you’d actually need to cook?”
That would make sense. If she damn well knew how to cook. Oh, God, why didn’t she tell him she was the maid?
She cleared her throat. “Broccoli.”
“Broccoli? That’s all? Just Broccoli? ’Cause I got to tell you, I’m a growing man. Broccoli alone isn’t going to put hairs on my chest.”
Did he have hairs on his chest? Or was he completely smooth? And, oh, crap, why did she want to take a peek so badly?
“Of course, I’m not cooking just broccoli. Meat and potatoes too.”
“Now we’re talking.” He just stood there. “Well?”
“Well . . .”
“You know, honey, you’re not inspiring much confidence in your cooking abilities. Are you sure that’s what my brother hired you for?”
“What else would he have hired me for?”
He took a few steps forward. “Oh, I don’t know. I could think of a few things.”
Was he flirting with her? Thanks to Carlin and his overprotectiveness, she didn’t have a clue what to do with a man like this. She was so beyond her comfort zone, it wasn’t even funny.
Surely, he wasn’t attracted to her? She was wearing a hoodie that swamped her small frame and an old ball cap of her dad’s.
She licked her lips and resisted the urge to step back. Instinct told her that he’d like that. He was trying to intimidate her. Well, she’d lived with scary-ass, intimidating men all her life. Sure, they weren’t as attractive as this guy and they had a great fear of torture and death in their near future if they dared touch her, but she refused to be intimidated by him. Much.
“If you’ll leave, I’ll get on with the cooking.” She searched for something. A weapon. Anything. She noticed some cooking pans stacked neatly a few shelves back. She retreated a step. He followed. He was so close she caught his scent. Masculine. Woodsy. Sexy as fuck.
Shit. Fuck. Shit.
“But I want to stay and watch. I’m thinking I might get some pointers. I’ve never been much of a cook.”
If he could boil an egg, he was doing better than she was.
Another step back. He took two forward.
“Of course, if you’re not actually the cook you’re going to have to think of some other way to feed me. And I’m warning you, my appetite is voracious.”
Okay, she knew he wasn’t talking about food. And he was scaring the fuck out of her.
He reached forward to grab her, pulling her towards his wide chest. And for a moment, her whole body melted. She went boneless. He moved in for a kiss. His lips brushed against hers, and all thought fled. He ran his tongue over her lower lip. “Open for me,” he commanded.
She really didn’t want to do that. And then his tongue was in her mouth. How the fuck did that happen?
She whimpered. Who cared? His tongue had talent. It had finesse. And it was sending sharp pulses of pleasure through her body.
Was this what she’d been missing out on all these years? Holy fuck. Her nipples hardened, and she wished she didn’t have all these layers of clothing separating them.
She pressed herself closer. She needed more. She was hungry. Starving. And he was a full course meal just waiting to be devoured.
He reached behind her, squeezing her ass with his hands. Oh, fuck. Who knew that would be a turn on? Her clit throbbed. Sure, she’d played with herself before, but she’d never managed to reach this level of need.
“Easy, baby.” He pulled her up into his arms and she squealed, momentarily thrown. He took a couple of steps and pushed her up against the wall. He kept her pinned there with his hips and reached for the bottom of her T-shirt, pulling it up and over her head.
Doubt suddenly broke through the haze of arousal. Doubt and a whole lot of trepidation. A low whimper escaped her. One he obviously mistook for arousal.
“I know you’re hot, baby. Don’t worry I’m going to take such good care of you. Ever been fucked against a pantry wall before?”
She’d never been fucked at all, so that would be a big fat no.
“Jesus, these are a surprise.” He cupped one breast. “What are you doing hiding these under that baggy sweater? He glanced down at the sweater. “Going to burn that the first chance I get.”
Surprisingly, that was the thing that broke the last of the spell that had been woven around her. That was her favorite sweater. It had belonged to her dad. She loved it. In some silly way, it connected her to him.
And this ass wanted to burn it?
As he buried his face between her breasts, she glanced over to see there was a nice, shiny pot within reach. She quickly picked up the pot, which weighed a ton
, and slammed it against Mr. Hottie’s head.
For a moment, she didn’t think she’d hit him hard enough. He just stood there, frozen. And then he slumped backwards. Caught by surprise, she landed flat on her ass on the floor.
She groaned. If her butt wasn’t black and blue in the morning, it would be a miracle. Shit. She took a moment to collect herself. It wasn’t every day she knocked a guy out who’d had his face planted between her boobs.
When her heart rate finally started to slow, and she stopped feeling like she might throw up, Gigi knelt and crawled her way over to the supine male lying sprawled on the pantry floor.
“Oh, fuck, please be alive. Please be fucking alive.”
Her hand trembled as she attempted to find a pulse on his wrist. Nothing. But then it was kind of hard to feel anything when she was trembling this much.
He had to breathe. She stared at his chest. She couldn’t kill him by knocking him out, could she?
There, his chest moved.
Oh, thank you, God.
He was alive. And if she wanted to stay alive then she had to get out of there. Fast.
Using the pantry shelves for support, she pulled herself up. She stood, leaning against the shelves until she thought she could move without falling flat on her ass. Then with one lingering, backward glance, she stumbled through the door.
* * *
He was going to kill his brother.
That bastard. This was it. This was the last time he’d put up with it. He was as good as dead. Sawyer didn’t care that he’d have his brother’s blood on his hands. Enough was enough.
He slammed open the door to Joe’s study and stormed inside, walking straight towards his brother, who was hunched over the computer.
Joe looked up with a frown of irritation that turned to shock. “Sawyer? What’s wrong?”
Sawyer walked over and leaned his hands on Joe’s desk, moving into the other man’s space. “I’m going to kill him. I just came to tell you. He’ll be dead within the hour. If you want to say goodbye, do it now.”
Golden Binds Page 2
