Grievous (Wanted Men Book 5) (6 page)

“Where are we going?” she muttered, dragging her feet.

“Upstairs.”

“Yes. I got that part.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“You can’t tell me there isn’t a restroom on the main floor. There must be more than a few considering the size of this place.” There was a new wariness in her voice that proved she was a smart girl. “Do I hear people working? Or am I imagining that?”

“People are working. And you will use the restroom up here. It is better stocked than those on the main floor.” He went right when they reached the first landing, and climbed another short set of stairs. If he were to take another right, it would take them up a longer flight to the third level where the ballroom was featured along with a theater room and twelve other suites and sitting rooms. He brought her down the second-floor corridor instead and opened the third door they came to. “Take your time.”

“Sure. Thanks.”

He closed her in and wasn’t surprised when he heard the lock go. Soon, she wouldn’t feel the need for such foolishness.

Forcing herself not to think for the moment, Yasmeen used the surprisingly modern facilities in the gold and white bathroom. She looked out the window and stared at a small snow-covered courtyard and what looked like stables. She couldn’t see any animals or footprints, though, so maybe it wasn’t in use. The freaking moat surrounding them was absurd and romantic all at the same time.

Romania. He’d brought her to Romania.

Her shoes made quiet clicks as she crossed the floor to wash up. She fixed her face as best she could without supplies, and was happy to see a small bottle of mouthwash and disposable toothbrushes in a basket filled with a wide variety of toiletries—definitely well stocked. She used both before fluffing her hair. Then she paused and looked at herself in the mirror. She licked her lips and squinted.

“Why do you look like this, you idiot?” she whispered.

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. Her heart was beating faster and faster, and her nerves were buzzing almost loud enough to hear.

She was no longer afraid.

She felt fucking excited.

Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate. She did have some residual fear and anger twisting around inside her that continued to come and go because she had a brain in her head. But something was overpowering it. The incomprehensible thing she felt for the man standing on the other side of the door.

“Oh, you stupid woman. Hold onto the fear. Find the phone. Get the hell out of here. Simple.” Something stretched awake inside her, looking for him. “He has no intention of bringing you to the airport!” she mouthed a little frantically.

Excitement. No fear. She could have sworn her body just sighed with relief.

She turned away, leaned her ass on the counter, and concentrated on what was happening to her. She was hot. She was bothered. A softness that felt so good was wrapping around her heart. Every time she looked and found Lucian watching her, she got hotter. When she concentrated on the new darkness in those amber depths, she became more bothered. And that softness making her heart swell? That was the most dangerous of all.

She went back to the physical stuff—it wasn’t as pathetic. Was she really going to let her attraction to him wipe out what he’d done to her? What if she lost her job?

Lucian was one of the most powerful men in New York. If he or his people were the ones who’d arranged her replacement, her boss wouldn’t turn around and fire her the moment she returned. Would he? Not if Lucian forbid it.

Adrenaline and pure lust seeped into her muscles at the thought of him putting the hammer down with only a few cutting words. It had to be the new edge. It should repel her, yet every time his expression allowed her to see it, she wanted more.

“You’re losing sight of the very simple goals you set for yourself. Twenty minutes ago you were ready to scratch his eyes out. He feeds you a line of bullshit that you believed for all of two seconds and what did you do? Kiss his fucking beautiful mouth.” She groaned and rubbed at her face, knowing that was when things had changed. The covetous expression he hadn’t tried to hide had reeled her in like she was the easiest mark on the block.

“What the hell’s wrong with you and your libido around this guy? Your feelings for him are derailing you, and you’re letting it happen. You have to go home,” she wailed under her breath, and wanted to slap herself for suddenly feeling anxious at the very idea because she now kinda-sorta wanted to stay.

To stay with him.

He was obviously hurting enough to have done something that could get him into a shit-ton of trouble. Maybe instead of bitching and moaning about going home, she could be his friend and try to help him through his grief.

Okay. She straightened. She could do that. Consider it a vacay, like Sorin said.

And, really, did she have any other choice? She was on the other side of the world with a powerful, obscenely wealthy man who was acting completely out of character. Or so she could only assume since she didn’t know him well enough to make a definitive judgment. Maybe this was him. Or maybe he was teetering on the edge because he’d just buried his murdered brother. Sympathy filled her as she absently took stock. She had no money, no passport, no ID at all…

Her stomach cramped. Okay. She was completely at Lucian’s mercy. What if he—

“All right. Stop it.” She shook out her hands. “Get out there and deal with it as it comes.”

As she smoothed down her dress that had traveled well considering it was a thrift shop buy, she opened the door.

Lucian was across the way. He wasn’t casually leaning on the wall, striking some lame pose. He was standing there, completely at ease, with his hands resting in his pockets and his head hanging forward. When she appeared, his eyes came up to lock on her, and the blast of desire that smoked through her body nearly had her hair rising as if an electrical current was passing through her.

Jesus. What the hell was that? It had been there from the moment they’d met. She’d been on her way home from a job interview, discouraged because she’d already known she would be passed over for an applicant with more experience. She’d dropped in at the gallery she now worked in and had turned from staring too long at a particular painting that had reflected her mood. Lucian had been standing ten feet behind her, his gaze lazy but intent, and not on the art surrounding them.

He'd approached her and had drawn her in with so few words it was shameful. She’d lost herself in his subdued charm and quiet authority, and hadn’t even considered refusing when he’d asked her to have dinner with him. They’d gone to an exclusive restaurant in Manhattan that she’d only ever read about, where she’d learned he was a successful businessman with a shady side he’d been at ease mentioning. He admitted to having some knowledge about wine, which came from owning four vineyards; two in France, one in Italy, and one in California. Before dessert, she’d excused herself to use the restroom. When she’d come out, he’d been waiting outside the door, just as he was now. Within the hour, they’d been naked, and she was orgasming into his mouth as the lights of Manhattan twinkled merrily through the wall of glass behind the king size bed in his penthouse. As a lover, he’d been fierce and demanding. She’d been in heaven.

“Déjà vu?”

Her pulse thumped between her legs. Yes, she thought, looking into his eyes. The loss of his brother had done something to him. Something terrible. She wanted to comfort him. But at the same time she didn’t. Mainly, because he’d drugged and kidnapped her. Taken her choices from her. And, aside from that being irrational and illegal, it was unforgivable.

“I was just thinking about the impression I must have left you with when we met the first time.” So often she’d wondered if he hadn’t contacted her again because he’d assumed she was a slut who banged on every first date she went on.

“If you are referring to the impression you left in my mattress, I often think of it as well. Come.”

It cost her no effort to ignore his hand that time and look in the direction of the stairs as her cheeks went hot. How did he make her pussy wet and leave her wanting to box him in the ear at the same time?

“Yasmeen.” He snapped his fingers impatiently. “I find it very annoying when I have to repeat myself. Let us do away with the need, yes?”

She gaped at him. “Lucian!” She laughed. She had to because the alternative was to kick him in the shin, and not even she was brave enough to do something so dumb. “That was a crass thing you just said. The least you can do is give me a moment to swallow the urge to spank you for it. Your arrogance is astounding,” she rushed out when his brow inched up. “How did you get like this? To the point where you think it’s acceptable to treat people the way you’re treating me. You’ve stolen my life. I get that you’ll eventually bring me home, but I also know you have no plans to do so right now so stop pretending. And while you’re at it, don’t snap your fingers at me like I’m a dog. I don’t care how you referred to me outside; I am
not
your pet.”

He silently approached her. Didn’t defend himself. Didn’t refute what she was saying. Just like at the Waldorf, it was as if he wasn’t hearing her talk.

Or her words meant so little he didn’t feel the need to acknowledge them.

“I’ve yet to come across a body so perfectly proportioned as yours. The size of your breasts, this curve,” he trailed his fingers down her side. “These hips I remember gripping as I filled your pussy. I could have fucked you for days and not grown tired of it. But you escaped before I woke.”

She held herself still and forced her eyes not to close when he dragged his thumb up the center of her torso. His tongue slid across the front of his teeth, mesmerizing her. Had he just said for days?

Her heart pounded, and her breathing went haywire. “I watched you program my number into your phone.” Shit. Her voice was shaking. “If you’d wanted me again, you could have called. You didn’t.”

“I was being thoughtful. Saving you, if you will.”

Her brow twitched in confusion. That was the second time he’d said something like that to her. “From what?”
Multiple orgasms?

“Me.” He clasped her hand and started walking. Stumbling, she caught herself and kept up because she had no choice.

“Where are we going? The stairs are that way. I’d like that macchiato now. Is Sorin around? Maybe he could whip one up. Lucian?”

“Yes, my pet?”

Fuck. She tried to pull him to a stop, but he didn’t let her. He continued, turning at the end of the corridor to lead them down another, this one darker, with no windows to allow the daylight in. She almost moved closer to him. She hated the dark.

When they reached a set of double doors, he opened one side, and despite her attempts to dig her heels into the smooth stone tile, he got her into the room. It was so stupid of her to have been expecting a library or office, and even stupider to feel a shot of happy right on her clit when she saw it was a bedroom.

The door closed behind them, and she heard him snap the lock into place.

“Lucian? What are we doing here?” Like she didn’t know.

“We are going to begin.” He walked past her, loosening his tie.

“Begin what?”

“Taking me out of my head.”

Her muscles heated and began to soften. “But…” She struggled to think but was coming up blank, so she went with the obvious. “You kidnapped me. I can’t reward you for that. You can’t take a woman’s choices from her this way. You
know
that.”

He looked at her over his shoulder as he shrugged out of his jacket. “Take your clothes off.”

Oh, God. As inconspicuously as she could, she pressed her thighs together to quell the ache that sprung up in her core. If he were asking her, she’d have been better able to refuse him. But he was demanding, and she wanted to obey him.

She couldn’t allow this. She couldn’t cave for this bully. Not when he was going about this all wrong. As much as she wanted to be with him again, she couldn’t just give in and let him get away with this type of behavior. He was treating her with zero respect, and she’d promised herself she would never take that from another man.

She spun around and tried the door, both handles. Nothing. She looked around the fucking massive—gorgeous—room for an alternate exit. There was a door across the way, but she could see a glass-encased shower stall through it. Two other doors led to what were absurdly large closets. Fuck, was she out of her element here or what?

“
Draga
? Begin, please.”

Aw…fuck it. Trapped, and totally confused about what she should be feeling, she did the unthinkable. She gave in. “Um, okay. Listen. I think we’re both aware of how attracted I am to you. Sleeping with you again won’t be a hardship.”
Are you seriously saying this shit?
her morals screeched through the desire hazing her brain. She looked everywhere but at him while she bartered her body. Why did it feel so different this time? “If we do this, if we spend a few hours in bed; then will you take me home?”

As he came to her, his shirt partly undone, she stared at the exposed patch of skin on his chest. It was smooth with only a dusting of hair. His tattoos were in a language she didn’t know, which surrounded the head of a black lion. The work of art covered his entire front, she remembered fondly.