Grievous (Wanted Men Book 5) (18 page)

“No Uber driver would survive after breaching my front gates,” the cranky warden murmured. “Come. Sit. We were just finishing up.”

He pointed the men to the door as she moved toward the uncomfortable-looking sofa.

“Behave yourself,
draga
,” Lucian murmured with a caress to her hip as he passed by.

She wavered, and her limbs felt loose when she reached her destination. She fell to the firm cushions, and the men began talking in Romanian again as they disappeared.

“Uh, Sorin?” she called before he could leave through a narrow door in the corner. Questionable if he could fit. “I’m sorry for staring. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I was only looking at your artwork. It’s very beautiful.”

“I think we are both aware ogling is above you.” Lucian came back into the room, and Sorin was definitely trying not to smile as he left. “Would you like a tour?”

She got up. “Uh, okay. I was assuming you’d throw me to the floor and I’d have to suffer through hours-long sex with my jailor, but a tour sounds cool.” She just about jumped out of her skin when her arm was touched. She spun around to find an older woman standing there. She was smiling as she held a tray up, offering Yasmeen a tall glass of what looked like iced tea, complete with the sprig of mint.

“Oh, God. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were there. Please forgive me. That was so inappropriate.” She threw a glare at Lucian. Idiot! He should have told her they weren’t alone. ‘I didn’t know you were there,” she repeated as she swiftly took the glass and a cocktail napkin. “Thank you.” Her face. Was. On. Fire.

The woman just continued to smile as she left through the same door Sorin had used. Fucking secret passages? She downed the entire drink in one go, wishing it was laced with something that would prevent her from getting behind the wheel after consuming.

“You couldn’t have warned me we weren’t alone?” As she struggled through a brain-freeze from hell, she banged the glass down on the table—making sure the napkin was beneath it so she didn’t leave a ring. “I just embarrassed both of us. The poor woman.”

“How was I to know you would beg to have hours-long sex on the floor the moment you saw me?”

She stuck her tongue out and tried not to swoon at his ghost of a smile.

“Do not worry. Teodora was too busy admiring your beauty to bother translating. She speaks maybe three words of English, and two of those are curses her grandson taught her.”

Funny how he could sound so normal sometimes. “Oh.” She rubbed at her temples as the ache subsided. “Well, still. She scared the shit out of me. Is that a secret passageway? Are there others? Do you know for sure if this place is haunted?”

“It is your average back corridor, there are many, and I would assume we are surrounded by spirits even as we speak. If nothing else, you and I will certainly entertain those who inhabit our room.”

A shiver rippled down her body. Caused by talk of ghosts or the X-rated entertainment she and Lucian would supply she didn’t know. She looked around, peering into the corners. “As long as you don’t want to join in, I have no beef with you,” she said to any spirits that might be hovering.

Lucian put out his hand. He was eyeing her body again. “The tour?”

Did he have an interest in anything but her limbs? “Sure. Then what? I mean, will you be going back to work? What kind of days do you put in when you’re having an episode like this?” Too harsh? she wondered when his eyes snapped to hers. At least it got them away from her breasts. “I’m still wearing the pasties if that’s what you were trying to determine.” She felt a niggling of guilt for being mean, and she skipped her way over to apologetically slip her hand into his.

“I’m not sure how much work I will get through during this episode. As this is the first time my brother was murdered, the way of things is still a mystery to me.”

Oh…shit. Instantly contrite, she stepped into him and cupped his expressionless face. Going on her toes, she pressed her lips to his. “I’m so sorry.” She gave him three soft kisses that he didn’t return. “It’s just that you keep looking at my body, and my brain isn’t down there. It’s annoying. But that was so bitchy of me. Of course, you don’t know what you’re doing. I’ll try to remember and not be so insensitive next time.”

He held fast to the back of her head when she went to pull away, and
he
kissed
her
. Though his was much more than a few affectionate pecks. He dominated in seconds, and she let him. She opened when he swiped along the seam of her lips. She met his tongue with hers and swirled them together, dancing for a brief moment. She instinctively stepped forward and felt every spot of connection when he snaked an arm around her waist to draw her even closer. By the time he lifted his head, she was breathing heavily, achy, and her fingers were tangled in his silky hair.

“Do not fool yourself into thinking I am not fully aware of exactly what I am doing,
draga
. My mind may be warped, but it is clear.” He traced the curve of her ass with his palm. “Mmm. You are correct. There is no brain down here. Funny how this mindless area captures my attention nonetheless. That must be where my interest currently lies, hmm?” As a sick feeling presented in her stomach, he whispered one of those ghost kisses on her cheekbone. “You asked yesterday;
draga
means ‘my darling’ or ‘my dear.’”

The sick feeling dissipated like candy floss in water and Yasmeen suddenly felt special. Needy and pathetic, but unmistakably special.

She smoothed his hair down and gave him a smile, hoping to receive one in return. “Okay. You’re clear but kooky, and you’re going to admire my ass for the next day or so. Got it. Now you can show me around this mausoleum.”

He released her after giving her a look that made the hair on her nape prickle. “Would you like to see the ballroom?”

“Sure. Show me your ballroom.” They walked out and crossed the foyer to travel along a passage lit by sconces that resembled flickering candles. “Why did you buy a castle, Lucian?”

“I did not buy it.”

“Oh. So this is like an extended B & E? Are you transferring all the re-sellable goods to a warehouse somewhere and we’ll leave a thank-you note on the door when we leave?”

He made a quiet sound of amusement, and murmured, “You did grow up in back alleys, didn’t you?”

That had her grinding to a halt. “Excuse me?”

He looked down at her. “Hunts Point. Correct? Just now, you spoke freely. When you do that, your roots come through.”

When she told someone where she grew up, she always said the Bronx. She never specified which neighborhood because of the judgment that inevitably came with it. He knew. Lucian knew she’d played in abandoned cars and empty lots filled with garbage. Had he gotten details? Did he know she and her friends used to run errands for the local pimps? If they ran to the store for smokes? They walked away with a dollar they didn’t have before. If they got soaked in the rain running to the KFC on the corner? They’d get a chicken leg as payment.

She was standing in his fucking castle, wearing an outfit that would cover a couple of months rent for any of the families she’d passed through, and Lucian knew exactly where she’d come from.

She felt stripped. More naked than she’d been when she’d straddled him with not a stitch of clothing on her person. She wrapped her arms around herself, hugging her ribs. “You dug into my past?” There was an edge to her voice that would have had Miranda doing her stupid grab-the-fake-popcorn-and-settle-in-to-watch-the-show.

“I dig into everyone’s past.”

“Congratulations. You’re invasive
and
awful. So?” She tossed her head back when she felt the urge to bow it and try to hide. “What did you find out? You know, if you wanted to know me, you could have asked. I would have told you. You didn’t have to go behind my back and find out a bunch of shit that probably isn’t even true.”

His eyes narrowed as he slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks. He moved back until he was casually leaning on the wall. “I found out about Miranda Neilson and Eric Halston. I know you went to NYU with Kristen Sheppard and have remained friends even though she now lives in Paris. Why do you not have more friends?”

None of your fucking business.
“Because I only need the ones I have. They’re perfect. Know why? Because they’d never think to invade my privacy the way you have.” Her fury over that was growing by the second. She
hated
people knowing her. She
hated
when they knew where she came from. She hated that
she
didn’t fucking know where she came from! “They’re friends who wouldn’t have drugged me and carted me to the other side of the world. They wouldn’t ever make me feel as if all I am to them is a cum dump. They wouldn’t ignore me as a person because they’re having a hard time dealing with their grief over the loss of a loved one. They wouldn’t invade my privacy!”

“Do Eric’s friends often come sniffing around? Have many of them tried to claim you?”

She stared at him as her chest rose and fell, her heart beating so fast it was a throb in her neck. She searched his face for any sign of regret. She found none. “Don’t you care at all that your behavior affects me in a way that is far from positive?”

“I have brought you on an expense-free vacation to Romania. You are staying at Fier Fortress, a castle whose construction began in 1647 and is filled with art you will wet your silky panties over once you look beyond your out-of-joint nose. I am willing to give you anything you request to make your stay as enjoyable as possible. I will feed you only the best foods, allow you to drink only the finest of wines, and I will pleasure you until your exquisite body cannot sustain one more climax before it breaks completely. I am giving you this without asking for a thing in return but a smile, some sporadic casual conversation, and free access. Explain to me what is far from positive about what I just outlined, Yasmeen?”

As he’d listed what he evidently considered perks, her anger seeped away. That was how he saw this? A paid vacation with good eats and occasional orgasms? Tears burned the back of her throat. As a person, she meant absolutely nothing to him. She could be anyone. He’d stipulated “sporadic, casual conversation” because he didn’t want to be bothered with anything more. Why? Because there was no interest. He may have chosen her, but he didn’t want
her
. He didn’t care that she was upset. She was here to be used as a toy. A walking, talking fleshlight.

She dropped her chin and tried to shake off the chill seeping through her clothes. She wanted to reprimand him for discounting her as a person. But what was the point?

She kept her hurt feelings to herself, worked her head back up where she’d vowed always to hold it, and left him standing there while she continued down the drafty corridor on her own.

Lucian watched his oversensitive pet leave him. She walked with the grace of a dancer. Her back long and straight, head high. She was a proud woman, and he was damaging that pride by keeping her at arm’s length. She wanted to mean something to him, and by not allowing her in, he was making her feel bad.

He looked down at his shoes. He understood pride. Because of that, he would appease her. He would let her know how much he…liked her. How much he liked having her with him. As Sorin had said, she was amusing. He would let her know he thought so. But he would let her wait for it because he didn’t want her thinking she would be rewarded for sulking.

He pushed off the wall and followed, taking no time to reach the reception area at the end of the hallway just outside the ballroom.

“Returning to our earlier conversation, this castle was given to me to pay a debt.” A blip of amusement poked at him when she didn’t turn from the window to acknowledge his presence. He accepted the slight because he’d upset her. She was human, and he had to allow for hurt feelings. To a point. “The owner frequented one of my casinos. When he maxed out the advance we generously allowed him, he moved onto another, and then another. Those two gambling houses also happened to be mine, and my employees were dispatched to collect what was due to us. Because the man was foolish and couldn’t pay his debt that was now six figures, he was given the option of a trade. His life for something of value. When I refused to take his only daughter, he signed over the castle.” Lucian thought of the subtle changes he’d authorized over the last while. “I have had a team refurbishing it for over eight years now. They are doing a satisfactory job, but it will not be complete for at least two more years.”

“So you would have killed the disgusting asshole for being poor?”

He joined her at the window, looking at her in the reflection rather than at the gloomy, snow-covered grounds. “I would have had him killed for using my money to feed his habit, and then not being man enough to take responsibility for his actions. The fact that he attempted to use his child as a bargaining piece was nothing but sad.”

“No kidding.”

Her lack of reaction had his focus going to her profile. “I would have had him killed if he hadn’t paid his debt,” he repeated, feeling a stirring somewhere in his gut because she wasn’t shrinking back from him over that admission.

“If I do something, own it, or you end me. Got it.”