Death eBook 9.8.16 (7 page)

Okay, first, I really needed to get my head rechecked by the good old doctor because the connection between my thoughts and my mouth kept crossing and misfiring. Second, how in the heck did the silly-shirt-wearing, flirty, good-looking, but total playboy brother end up owning one of the top investment firms in the country, more likely the world?
Forbes
magazine did an article a few months back that said something about a person needing to be worth at least five billion to get their phone call answered by Connor’s company.

Still, it all had to be kept for another time, because my sexy whack-a-doodle was back and opening the car door.

Disappointment that the other brothers weren’t there caused my hands to shake. Mostly Falcone; however, I was a fast learner, so I knew better than to mention that particular name to my handsome hothead.

“Was your ride comfortable?” Dean asked like the fate of the world and the life of the poor driver depended on my answer. The boy really needed to lighten up.

“Well, the seats were simply too welcoming, the leather was buttery soft, and I think the driver purposely hit that pebble on Third Street just to annoy me,” I overstated in the snootiest way I could muster with a straight face, and shot a dirty look at the front of the town car.

There was a moment of stunned silence before Dean threw his head back and burst out laughing. It was a deep, meaningful laugh from the gut. I never thought a man laughing could be sexy. I’d assumed it was one of those romance novel myths once again, but dear Book Goddess above, the man was so stunning, he practically glowed. Still laughing, he threw his arm around my neck, gently pulling me in close, and kissed my forehead.

My body shuddered. Did I just come? I think I just came, or at the very least piddled myself in glee like a happy puppy.

“My jewel, you might be just perfect.” O
h, I like that. My jewel, I like it a whole lot.
He smiled, offered a wave to Mr. S., and then grabbed my hand, bag, and quite possibly my heart, and led us to the revolving doors. Okay, I’d always been partial to revolving doors; it may be a bit childish, but they were one of those simple joys in life. Though, that joy was currently sharing a segment with Dean. I would be drafting a new law in my free time that made revolving doors a required part of all buildings in the future. For those 8.4 seconds, Dean was
everything.
He seemed to invade all my senses. Out the corner of my eyes, I admired the sight of his muscles flexing through his shirt as he moved, and enjoyed the sound of his steady, even breaths, the feel of his strong, warm hand guiding mine, but it was his scent that obliterated my common sense. His scent made me crazy with need, causing my heart to beat erratically. His scent was an all-male musk, with a hint of cologne. The only reason I didn’t climb him like a squirrel on a tree was at that moment he dropped my hand, and our connection dimmed as we stepped into the lobby. Normally, I’d have been upset by the rejection, but the look in his eyes as he took a step away from me made it clear he was just as affected as I was.
Good, at least this lusty need isn’t one-sided.

“Follow me, the elevators are this way.” He gestured with a flick of his hand. I’d have to be deaf to miss the husky tone his voice had taken on. I was officially screwed. At the rate I was going, I’d have to throw the panties I was wearing out. There would be no saving them; my private place was like El Niño whenever Dean was around. Why was he bringing such an intense physical reaction from me? It was as if my heart had already fallen for him, but my mind was still standoffish.

I decided to take a moment to calm myself with a deep shuddering breath and take in my surroundings. The lobby seemed to be a football field in length. To my right were double doors to a large walled-in garden and coffee shop, which, by the smell of it, was about to open for the day. To my left was a long concierge counter and waiting area. Ahead was a row of five elevators flanked by two sets of stairs. The entire space was pure opulence, but what drew, and held, my eyes was the intricate and meticulously inlaid marble and granite horse crest. I wanted to examine the design further, but Dean was already on the move.

We entered the middle elevator, and he put a small key in a lock at the bottom of the control panel and then pushed the black button next to it.

“Hope you don’t mind, but you will be staying in my quarters. In the guest room, of course. If you’re uncomfortable, we can move you to one of the guest suites, but we would have to call someone in early to air it out,” he added with hesitance.

Biting my bottom lip, I offered a fake unfazed shrug, even though I was equally glad and excited by the suggestion. “Honestly, the last two days have been a nightmare,
literally
. I’d rather not be completely alone right now, so it works for me.” I watched his whole body visibly relax with my answer.

He softly responded with, “Thank you.”

With nothing else to say, I turned my attention to the rising floor numbers.

10…

11…

12…

The numbers may have stopped at the twelfth floor, but the elevator continued on to the next one up and stopped.

“The thirteenth floor? Isn’t that bad luck? Most buildings skip it.”

He stepped out and informed me with a sexy smirk, “That’s a myth. All the best things happen with the number thirteen. For instance, in Judaism, thirteen signifies the age at which a boy matures and reaches Bar Mitzvah. The first flag of the United States bore thirteen stripes, alternating red and white, and thirteen white stars in the blue union.” He shrugged and continued with his information, “There’s also a baker's dozen or a tarot card deck. XIII is the card of Death”—he wiggled his eyebrows at that one, like it had a special meaning, one I was missing—“and Connor’s personal favorite, Taylor Swift was born on December 13. She considers thirteen her lucky number. Tay-Tay, as he calls her, not that he has ever met the girl, is Connor’s guilty pleasure. He knows every song by heart.” He chuckled. “You can tease him about it.”

“Oh, I will. It’s priceless,” I said with a gasp, laughing so hard I snorted, and stepped out of the elevator and into the hall with him. It was a long corridor with five wooden doors: two on either side and one more at the end of the hall, directly in front of us. Each door seemed to have something branded into it and a word written in a language I didn’t recognize; each in a different color as well. We stopped at the first door on the left. It was then I realized all the side doors had a horse head burned into it.
I’m starting to sense a theme here
. The one we were about to enter had strange writing on it, in a very pale off-white with a hint of blue.

“This is me,” Captain Obvious pointed out as he opened the unlocked door. Who in the hell left their doors unlocked in this day and age? Weird.

Dean cleared his throat, capturing my attention. “It’s only my brothers and I who have access to this floor. There’s no need to lock one’s door up here,” he answered my unspoken question—or had my mouth misfired again?

“Aw, crabfish! Did I ask that aloud?”

He smiled. “No, but your face is easy to read.”

“Yeah, it’s why I rarely lie. Never seems to work,” I grumbled as we stepped into the open-layout industrial-looking living room. Everything was visible from the front door. The whole apartment was minimal and modern. Nothing like my old cluttered cottage.

“You’ll stay in here.” He pointed before guiding us into a guest room to the right. “The boys and I will be in and out throughout the day, and I will leave our contact numbers on the kitchen counter. Otherwise, make yourself at home,” Dean offered as he dropped my laptop and overnight bag on the bed and moved to leave.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” I didn’t mean to sound pathetic, but the thought of being alone with the picture of the creepy-girl-with-the-melting-face dream still in my head made being in a new place unappealing. It was weird how Dean’s touch had made the nightmare all but erase from my mind. He was a great distraction.

He took a step closer and placed his hand on my cheek. My stomach twisted and turned in delight, before he said, “My jewel, you are safe here, and I promise to keep it that way. I will be in my home office most of the morning or just down the outside hall in the meeting room with my brothers. My office is beside my bedroom, over there.” He pointed across the way.

“The meeting room is the last door down the hall, the one at the end? It has the same crest branded into it as the floor in the lobby, right?” I asked. It was the only door I’d seen that looked different from the others.

He gave me a strange look that seemed to be a cross between surprise and pride. “Noticed that, did you? Yes.” He nodded. “And the brand is our family crest. I will tell you about it some other time. For now, settle in and rest. Do you have things you can do for a while?”

Nodding, I said, “Yes, I have work to catch up on.”

“Okay.” He winked. “I will see you at supper.” He gently grazed his thumb across my cheek, sending another flutter to my stomach and lower, before he slowly leaned in and kissed my forehead. Then, with one last sexy smile, Dean left me to unpack.

Even though a part of me wanted to reach out to ease the sense of loss filling my chest, I didn’t. What I was feeling for a man I hardly knew put me on edge, and I hoped distance would help sort me out.

It wasn’t until after I changed, threw away my unsalvageable panties, and finished unpacking my belongings that I realized the feeling of longing for a stranger wouldn’t leave me. With a stomp of my foot, because I hated things unexplained, I occupied myself by digging out the spare cell phone I’d thrown in my laptop bag on the way out. I explained to the cell company the case number the detectives gave me and had them transfer my old number; it was a pain in the rear, but something I had to do. Too many contacts already knew my old number. As soon as it was activated, it was like an AK-47 on helium doing a mariachi dance went off. I knew, without a doubt, all fifty-seven of those pings were from Fallon losing her shiz about the crash.

Sighing deeply, I decided to delete all but her most recent threat. That one was the last of her thirty-two text messages. It read:

I swear on all that is holy, from Mother Mary’s Golden Titties to Father Joseph’s Brassed Blue Balls, if you don’t answer me by the time I wake up for my shift at the bar tonight, I am calling and making appointments with a voodoo priestess, the local satanic sect, and the fucking Pope!! I hear he knows a thing or two about resurrections.

Please.

Just let me know you’re okay.

Or I am calling your mother as well!

I really didn’t foresee the Pope answering Fallon’s call, not with a mouth like that, but the last thing I needed was my mother alerted to an opportunity to use the accident for her own gain. My mother’s twisted version of my childhood, sold to the highest bidder… no, thank you.

Checking the clock while hoping that luck was on my side for once, and her phone was still on silent from her shift the night before, I hit Call.

Looked like whoever was doling the karma that day decided to take pity on me and sent the call directly to voice mail.
Booyah!

“I see stalking is hard on the battery and you forgot to put it on the charger again. You call my mother and I will post that video of you drunk as a skunk on karaoke night singing
‘Hit Me Baby One More Time’
so off-key they turned the mic off after the first chorus, but you kept going to the brutal end.” After my very real threat, I told her everything, as in
everything
. I had to call back twice. Once that was over with, I canceled on my students by text and made my way into the kitchen to make a sandwich. Strange how I already seemed comfortable, as if it were home to me.

I was about thirty minutes into my day of editing when exhaustion again caught up with me. Adrenaline wore away. That, coupled with the predawn wake-up battle, caused my eyelids to finally lose the inevitable fight. What I didn’t know was that I would sleep like a rock for the next twelve hours, missing my dinner date with Dean.

Looked like my luck was right back down the pooper.

Chapter Six

DEAN

I’d walked away from Julie with a boner and my mind growling at me to run back and claim her. A thought of humping her leg like a dog passed through my mind, if she wasn’t willing to take me within her body. I soon shot that bloody thought down. Instead, I stalked out of my apartment and down the hall. I found myself turning back to the room over half a dozen times, to return to my jewel, but fought it, and finally slammed open the door to the meeting room.

My hard gaze landed on Falcone and I pointed to him. He flinched. “You are fucking lucky you are my brother.”

Warren suddenly stood from leaning against the wall. His hands went to his hips as he barked, “What the hell was all that, that fawning, growling and… shit, whatever the fuck you were doing to her?”

“She’s mine,” I said simply with a shrug.

“So, it doesn’t mean you had to act like a caveman.”

“That’s the problem. I did and do. I have no way of stopping how I act around her. I hate the thought of another male touching her, comforting her, when it should be me, her mate, to do it. I could and would have easily slit Falcone’s throat if I hadn’t calmed down from her touch to my back. At least I was able to convince her I’m not a complete barbarian when I showed her to her room.”

“Fuck,” Warren snarled.

I actually smiled. “Good times ahead, my brothers, for you all.”

“Never,” Warren clipped out.

“No way in hell. I like sleeping around too much.” Connor paled.

“I think that would detain me from my studies. I’m not sure I’d be happy about that.” Again, why was I concerned for Falcone?

Because I’d had no control. I’d seen him between my mate and me, and I hadn’t liked it one bit. What I liked least was the fact that my jewel looked to Falcone for comfort, for help in the situation, and for protection.

It seemed logic was thrown out the window and driven over a million times when it came to our mates. It wouldn't be hard to guess it was going to get me into trouble with Julie more than a few times.