Grievous (Wanted Men Book 5) (17 page)

“How do they know you by sight?”

“We visit a few times a year.”

“And your visits are so memorable?”

“The priest at one of the monasteries outed Lucian. They know who we are now.”

“Outed him? What did he do? Use someone’s alter to sacrifice a virgin?”

“No. He built a local college that is fully funded by Fane Enterprises.”

“Of course, he did.” Her heart swelled with pride for her madman. She took a bigger drink of her coffee. “I knew he wasn’t a psycho. I’m an okay judge of character, and not once did I sense someone I should be afraid of the last time we were together. But…” She smiled at a little boy who tottered out of a tent and wobbled before falling to his bum. Before she could step forward to help him, Sorin’s big hands were scooping him up and handing him back to his mother. She murmured what Yasmeen could only assume was thanks and darted back into the tent with her child.

“But now he is different.”

She stopped in the shade of a building and looked up at Sorin as the aroma of grilled sausages drifted under her nose. “Yes. Is he different with you?”

“Yes.”

“Sorry.” Not sorry. “I shouldn’t be making you talk about him behind his back.”

“I have not said anything to you that I would not say to his face. Lucian has acted like an ass on certain occasions, and I have happily taken the opportunity to point it out. As he has done in return.”

“I have to admit I’m happy he has you.”

“So you have said.”

Before he’d put her in the Bentley at the Waldorf. “You two ever get in a fight?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes bugged. “An argument? Or a fist fight.”

“Both. The most memorable was the day we met. He tossed an iron pipe away after he broke my arm. We used our fists after that.”

She looked at his log of an arm. “Did you kick his ass?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “No. I am afraid he kicked mine. We were fourteen, and at a funeral. He was protecting Markus; I was protecting my friend who lied about something he had said. It was not until months later that I had the chance to admit to Lucian I had been on the wrong side that day.”

“Did he fight dirty? He totally fought dirty, didn’t he?”

Sorin was scanning the area, but his smile was in the conversation. “It was a skirmish filled with kneecapping and groin shots.”

“Knew it,” she whispered, picturing Lucian using his gorgeous body in the role of fighter. He would be beautiful to watch. Intense. Vicious. Mmm.

“Did you fight dirty growing up?” Sorin asked.

She nodded distractedly. “Fuck, yeah. There was no below the belt when someone came after me. In my neighborhood, the weak were pecked at until there was nothing left but tears and bones. You became a target; first time out you either went for the kill or—”

Yasmeen snapped her flapping trap shut before she could finish. What the hell? She was slipping further and further away from who she now was, falling into a comfort zone that couldn’t be more dangerous around these men. If she wasn’t careful, they were going to
know
her. For Christ’s sake, she was standing in front of a bell tower in a small, spooky town in the middle of Romania, sharing details of her shitty trip out of the gutter. Feeling a camaraderie with Sorin because he’d mentioned a stupid fist fight.

She straightened her spine and slipped her hands into the pockets of her cape. “Anyway, your scuffle with a rich, spoiled Lucian isn’t the same thing as us girls fighting off the thugs in our neighborhood. The guys had a bad habit of trying to have sex with those of us who had no one who’d come around after and kick their asses for not thinking about that little thing called consent.” She brushed past him and climbed a set of stairs. At the top, she turned and looked out over the area. She wished she had her phone. She’d have snapped a picture.

“That is something I would ask you to share with Lucian. When he hears about those boys who are now men, he will ask for names. I would be pleased to lead a team to their homes, and if you would like, I will record their castration so you will have something to watch anytime you remember your less than stellar past.”

Aw, shit. She melted like an ice cream cone in July. Why did she have to respect their way of dealing? Why didn’t it shock her and make her want to run through the streets screaming about castrating murderers?

“Fine. Get up here.” He came up the last couple of stairs and she looped her arm through his. “You’re making it very difficult not to like you, you savage.”

He pulled away from her. “Do not touch me, Ms. Michaels. Lucian would not approve.”

“Oh. Uh, sorry.” She squinted and pretended a sudden interest in the other tourists bundled up and wandering around hoping to spot Dracula. “I can get handsy when I feel comfortable with someone.” She craved human contact. Always had. But she’d rarely gotten the kind she needed. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I am well aware of that. But Lucian would not approve,” he repeated, his tone as apologetic as the pat he gave her shoulder.

She nodded and attempted to block the loneliness she could feel skirting around her ankles. “Why did you ask about my childhood?”

“I was told if you talked about yourself I should encourage you and get as much information as I could.”

She tipped her head and gawked at him as big snowflakes began to fall. “How can you stand there and admit that?” She should probably appreciate that he and Lucian were both so straightforward. She’d never be left wondering. But it made her uneasy. Their…openness. She didn’t offer shit to anyone unless they had a badge and a goddamn good reason for asking. Well, normally she didn’t.

He shrugged. “As Lucian often says; anything but the truth eventually becomes a nuisance. You must know by now he can be brutally honest.”

“Hurtfully so.”

“I would suggest you are the same during your time together. Do not pretend. And do not lie to him, Ms. Michaels, because I can guarantee you would only do so once.”

Lucian stood at the front window in his office, his hands clasped behind his back, the conference call he was in the middle of now on hold. His focus was on the entrance to the lane leading off the drive. The last three hours had been productive but unenjoyable. The next two would be the opposite, he vowed just as the front end of the Bentley came into view.

The knots twisting his muscles loosened, and a slow breath passed through his lips.

Safe.

He clasped his wrist tighter as the word whispered through his mind. When had this woman’s well-being become so important? It shouldn’t be. She should be replaceable.

Yet she wasn’t. There was not one female body he wanted in place of hers. Not one mouth he wanted under his but hers. There was no other female voice he wanted to hear shouting his name while her body went rigid in the midst of an orgasm. Just hers.

His eyes went to the rear door as Sorin pulled the car around the garden in the center of the drive. When he got out and went around to open and help Yasmeen from the car, even Lucian’s demons moaned in pleasure at the sight of her. The hood on her cape was down, and her hair was a dark shiny mass all around her shoulders and down her back. They disappeared up the stairs, and Lucian turned to watch them enter the castle through the security feed on one of two monitors.

Secure.

When his phone went off, he brought it to his ear since he was already holding it.

“Sorin.”

“Shall I bring her to you?”

“No. Put her in our room. Do not give her any instructions. Just leave her to go through her packages. They arrived a few minutes ago.”

“What packages?” Sorin’s voice instantly sharpened. “Get over by the wall,” he said to Yasmeen in English. Lucian saw him help her along and stand with her at his back.

Protected.

“Do not move. Lucian? She did not buy anything.” He’d reverted to Romanian. “Who delivered these things? Who allowed this delivery? Jesus Christ, the packages are in your
rooms
? Who the fuck—”

“Sorin,” he cut in gently. “Relax. Spencer was with you. He flew in this morning, and I sent him out directly after he arrived here. I knew Yasmeen would not use the money I gave her, so if she showed an interest in anything, I instructed him to purchase it.”

His friend and protector’s gaze came up to look directly into the camera, proving he knew Lucian was watching. “You did not think I needed to know this?”

Lucian smiled. “Did you not catch sight of your shadow?”

“I trained that shadow. Of course, I did not catch sight of him.”

“Then you trained him well,” he commended before getting back to his pet. “Tell me, what did Yasmeen do with the money?”

“After the color came back into her face, she put it in the cup holder.”

He chuckled. “Did she mention it to you?”

“No.”

As he suspected. She wasn’t one to open up to just anyone about her feelings. “Is there anything you want to share about your time together?” Sorin was an intuitive man who paid attention.

“She misses Miranda and feels adrift without her to lean on. She is afraid being here, but at the same time she likes it; that appears to bother her. I say this because I startled her while she was…what did she call it? Self-loathing. One doesn’t do that unless they are enjoying something they think they shouldn’t. Have you self-loathed lately, Lucian?”

“No, Sorin. I have not had the time,” he drawled. “What else?”

“She is very curious about the strangest things, and she was willing to take a donkey out of town rather than a train, though she did only ask to leave once. She is very amusing.”

“Yes, she is,” he agreed.

“She fought hard growing up. Hard and dirty.”

He’d already guessed that. “Is that all?”

“No. I get the feeling she was starved for affection when she was a young girl. I think it would be cruel of you to use that as a weapon against her.”

“Noted. Join me when she is settled. We have some business to discuss.”

He hung up, and as he went back to his overseas call, the marked difference in his mood made one thing clear. His pet would not be leaving the castle again without him.

♦ ♦ ♦

As Yasmeen opened the bedroom door, she was still wondering about Sorin’s odd display in the foyer. For a moment, she’d thought the roof was about to come down on them. Then, from one blink to the next, he’d gone back to chatting on his phone while he led her up the stairs.

She closed the door behind her…

She blinked and stared at the packages spread all around the loveseat and floor. Walking over, she peered into one of the bags and saw the handbag she’d admired as Sorin had spoken to a vendor. In another were the strappy heels she’d looked at through one of the beautifully decorated storefront windows. And in another, was a bright pink bomber jacket she’d known would look fantastic on Miranda’s petite body.

She heaved a sigh and got to work toting it all into the closet so the room wouldn’t appear a mess. “Lucian, Lucian. What am I going to do with you?”

Once her task was done, she freshened up, and seeing as the heavy clouds that had brought in the snow had muted the daylight, it was through shadowed corridors that she went in search of her grieving owner.

She didn’t get lost. But she also didn’t have to wander aimlessly, looking for Lucian’s office. As she entered the foyer, she heard voices coming from the front sitting room. One was the accented rumble she was in need of, so she went over, but paused after only a couple of steps into a room that had exposed pale-gray brick walls and honey-colored hardwood floors. Okay. This place was gorgeous. The massive fireplace made it look more like a ski chalet than the sitting room in a castle.

Four men stood next to a grouping of four high-back chairs. Lucian was one of them, Sorin another. They quieted when they noticed her.

“Excuse me. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

The other two were strangers who wore black suits and gunmetal overcoats. Sorin, who had clearly been interrupted mid-workout, was in black sweats and a soaked tank. Holy shit. She wasn’t sure what was more impressive, his physique or his ink. Damn, she wanted to go over and explore it because, hey, art was art. From this far away, she couldn’t say for sure, but she was almost certain he and Lucian shared a tattoo artist.

“Yasmeen.”

Lucian’s sharp tone brought her to attention, and she realized she was staring at his meathead. Her ears got impossibly hot when she looked over to see her lover was glaring at her.
Lover
, she scoffed silently. Rather than prolong the awkward moment by explaining that she was only admiring what appeared to be the freaking Sistine Chapel on Sorin’s hulking shoulder, she forced a bright smile. As usual, her nerves came out in the form of nonsense.

“I heard voices and thought my Uber showed while I was upstairs. Did I miss it?”

She held her smile when Lucian’s jaw clenched, his hard gaze raking down her form. Out of the corner of her eye, she was sure she saw Sorin smile before he turned away.