Mastered (The Enforcers #1) (31 page)

Her eyes widened, but she swallowed her mouthful of food and then replied, “Yes. I got it. And yes, I promise.”

“Good. Now, do you need help putting in your other contacts?”

She wrinkled her nose. “At the risk of sounding like a ditzy stereotypical blonde, I'm completely tech illiterate, so yes please, if you don't mind, would you enter my parents' number and then my girlfriends'? There are only five numbers to enter, so it won't take much of your time.”

“I don't have anywhere to be, Evangeline, so stop apologizing with your expression and worrying that you're taking up too much of my time.”

“Thanks,” she said warmly. “I really like you, Silas. You've been nothing but sweet and kind to me. You have no idea how much it meant both times you came to my ‘rescue.'”

He looked as though she'd just accused him of being an ax murderer, judging by the look on his face. He nearly choked as he stared at her in stupefaction.

“For God's sake,” he muttered. “I am neither sweet or kind, and no one has ever said or thought so. I'm not a good man, Evangeline. I won't lie to you. You seem to have a misguided opinion of me. You are far too trusting. It's a good way to get yourself hurt or killed.” He shook his head. “No, I'm not a good man at all, but
you
have nothing to fear from me. I swear it on my life. Even if you weren't Drake's woman, you would have my unconditional protection, which is why I want me to be the second person you call if you can't reach Drake and you're in trouble or need help.”

“And you're wrong, Silas,” she said stubbornly. “I don't know what kind of bullshit you've been subjected to or who made you feel like you were somehow less, but whoever it was is a worthless piece of shit and if I ever find out who made you feel this way about yourself I'll kick their ass and then I'll have Zander finish the job since he'd probably enjoy that kind of thing.”

Silas looked shocked and bewildered, a host of what could only be called “what the fuck” expressions, but then to her surprise he threw
back his head and laughed. A full-throated, genuine laugh of amusement, something she hadn't imagined him capable of. She stared in wonder at how his laughter, such a beautiful sound, completely transformed him from a quiet, polished, restrained, well-mannered man with more shadows in his eyes than true color to someone who looked years younger. The lines and grooves on his face and forehead simply disappeared and his eyes sparkled with genuine laughter. All she could do was stare in fascination, unable to look away from the breathtaking transformation occurring right in front of her.

“You are a priceless treasure, Evangeline,” he said, his eyes still gleaming with amusement. “And I pity the fool who ever tries to mess with someone you care about. You may look like a kitten and an innocent angel, but underneath you're a ferocious lioness with deadly teeth and claws.”

Still chuckling, he reached for her phone. “Give me the names and numbers of the contacts you want me to enter before you start planning assault and God only knows what else and then Drake and I will have to bail you out of jail.”

She grinned, absurdly pleased with herself for being able to draw Silas out of his shell. And, well, she hadn't lied. She liked Silas. There was something about him that reminded her of Drake. And she strongly suspected that Silas had endured a very hard life dating back to his childhood, and her heart ached for the boy he'd once been. Affection, someone standing up for him, someone liking him seemed such alien concepts to him, as though he'd never experienced any of it. And that pissed her off.

She gave him her parents' names and number first and then provided him with Steph's, Lana's and Nikki's cell numbers as well as the landline number in their apartment.

“That all?” Silas asked when she fell silent.

She nodded, a little self-conscious. “I don't know many people in the
city, and Steph, Lana and Nikki are my only friends. I didn't exactly have much time to get out and meet people or make other friends because I worked as many hours as I could.”

She wished she'd just kept her big mouth shut because the smile was gone from both Silas's eyes and his mouth. His lips tightened and he looked pissed.

But to her surprise, he didn't voice his obvious displeasure and instead reached across the island and took both her hands in his, squeezing them gently.

“Well, now you have us. All of us. Warts and all. You belong to Drake, yes, but you also now belong to us all. Drake is the closest thing to a brother I've ever had, as are the others. And because you are his woman, our loyalty, protection and friendship now extend to you as well. You have friends now, Evangeline. Don't ever think otherwise. Which is why I expect you to call on me if you have need of anything. If there is ever something I can do for you, it would upset me greatly if you didn't feel as though you could reach out to me.”

“Do
not
make me cry,” she said with mock ferocity. “Me crying is
not
a pretty sight. Some women have perfected the art of a tear or two and a delicate, feminine sniffle. I'm an ugly crier. My face gets all red, my eyes swell up and my nose runs like a faucet.
Trust
me, you do not want to see that.”

Silas didn't respond to her attempt at lighthearted humor in kind. His expression grew somber, and sadness chased across his eyes, gone almost before she even registered it.

“I would hate for you to ever have reason to cry,” he said in a pained voice. “You deserve to be happy, Evangeline. And I hope to hell Drake moves heaven and earth to make you so. Because if he doesn't, he's a damn fool.”

It was late in the evening, and even though Drake had clearly told her he didn't know when he'd be home, she hadn't expected him to be this late. At nine, she curled up on the couch, completely nude, because she wanted to wait up for him, no matter how late he came home, and though he hadn't given her any instructions on how to be when he arrived or even that she was to wait up on him, she wanted him to come home to her. For him to know he mattered, that his needs mattered and that she wanted to please him. Wanted to see the warm approval in his eyes that she'd grown to crave so much that at times it frightened her.

She wasn't aware of what time she drifted off, only that when she sleepily opened her eyes, Drake was standing in front of the couch, his gaze burning over her naked skin.

She immediately smiled, though she was still blinking away the vestiges of sleep from her eyes, and his face softened as he leaned down to kiss her long and so very sweet.

“You didn't have to wait up on me, Angel, but I'm very glad you did.”

“I would never not wait up on you, Drake,” she said in a serious voice. “I wanted you to come home and for the first thing that you saw to be me, waiting for you. I'm only sorry I fell asleep.”

He put a finger to her lips. “Shh, my darling. It's nearly eleven. There is no need to apologize for falling asleep. I didn't call this time because I worried I would wake you.”

She pushed herself upward instead of remaining sprawled indelicately on the couch.

“How was your day? It sounded as though you were busy and you look tired, Drake. You don't get enough rest.”

He smiled. “My angel worries about me and wants to take care of me. No one has ever taken care of me, or
wanted
to, for that matter.”

His smile was faint, followed by a brief shadow of pain and . . . need. No matter that this man enjoyed taking care of her, it was obvious that he too needed that same care, whether or not he would ever admit to something he'd likely construe as a shortcoming in himself.

He would just have to get over it because she had no intention of taking without reciprocating in any way she could. His happiness had become important to her, and she couldn't even pinpoint when it had become so. But just as he pampered her, cherished her and lavished his loving care upon her, she would return the favor in full measure.

She frowned. “You have someone
now
who wants to and
will
take care of you in every way I can. I want to make you happy, Drake, and not just because I cede power to you and submit to you. I intend to make you feel as loved as you make me feel.”

He looked shaken by her straightforward statement, as if he had never come across such a situation before and wasn't at all certain how to react. But his eyes said it all. They glowed with warm pleasure and contentment. He looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world—
his
world.

He extended his hand to help her from the couch and pulled her up and against him so she was molded to his body. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her lingeringly, taking his time and tasting every inch of her mouth, inside and out.

“I have something for you,” he said in a husky, passion-laced voice.

The warm glow that had surrounded her, drowning her in the silent exchange between them and the look of wonder in his eyes, evaporated instantly. Dread and disappointment replaced her excitement over his coming home, and she immediately tensed.

He frowned at her reaction but didn't respond. Instead, he pulled a small box from his pocket and placed it into her hand.

“Open it,” he said.

Her fingers were trembling, something he might construe as excitement or anticipation, but it was neither. She didn't
want
to open the damn box. It somehow cheapened what she considered a deep emotional bond established with the few words they'd exchanged and turned the entire evening into something else entirely.

She didn't want to see what was inside. All she wanted was
him
, for him to take her to bed so she could do exactly as she'd vowed and for once take care of him after a long day of work. Was that so hard for him to understand? Had no one ever wanted him, the man, Drake Donovan? And not what he possessed and the cavalier way he tossed trinkets her way on a daily basis?

But she dutifully opened the box and discovered a necklace to match the huge earrings he'd given her already. The very thing she'd predicted, though at the time it had been a sarcastic thought. She hadn't
really
thought he'd go that far. But she should have known better.

She gasped when she caught a full view of the diamond necklace. It was huge. Bigger than both earrings put together! It was a teardrop diamond pendant the size of his
thumb
!

Something inside her snapped and she lashed out, her disappointment too keen to hide.

“This has to stop, Drake!
Enough!
Every day you give me some outrageously expensive gift, and today this makes the
second
. I don't
want
your gifts. I want
you
. Can't you understand that? Don't you know me better than that by now?”

Tears gathered in her eyes and she was shaking with anger and disappointment.

“I don't want them,” she raged. “I don't even know what to do with the first couple you bought me. What on earth am I supposed to do with the rest?”

Drake's expression turned to one of fury, but she was too angry to recognize the line she'd just crossed.

He swore violently and colorfully, turning away for a long moment, his back to her, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. Then he whirled back around, his eyes nearly black with rage.

“Why the hell do you have to make such a fucking big deal out of everything I give you?” he snapped. “It's not just the jewelry. You looked like you were on your way to death row when I bought you clothing. You've objected at every turn when I buy you anything, and you damn well knew the rules going in, so you can't plead ignorance. Do you even consider how that makes
me
feel? It's not just a rejection of a physical object. It's a rejection of
me
and my desire to spoil and pamper you and make you feel like the very special woman you are.”

She went soft to her very soul, and she'd never felt more ashamed of herself than in this moment. Oh God, she'd never even considered that he would consider it a rejection of him when all she
wanted
was him. Not diamonds, jewels, expensive clothing, credit cards and unlimited funds. She'd made a complete and utter mess of this, all because she'd let her insecurities get the better of her and couldn't fathom why Drake had chosen
her
. He called her special, but she wasn't! Except . . . he thought she was and she didn't believe him. Which meant she'd shown him the utmost disrespect by not having faith in him. She was clearly telling him that she didn't trust him, when nothing could be further from the truth.

She went to him immediately, closing the distance between them and wrapping herself around his huge body, ignoring his rigidity and the fact that he didn't return her embrace.

“Oh, Drake, I'm so very sorry,” she said, her heart breaking into jagged, painful pieces that left her utterly bereft over hurting him. “I never meant to make you feel that way. You just don't understand how hard it is for a girl like me . . .” She broke off and closed her eyes but not before Drake saw the fleeting hint of despair shining like a beacon.

Despite Drake's anger, he cupped her chin, caressing her cheek with his thumb, because something else was going on here and he'd jumped to what appeared to be very errant conclusions.

“Angel, open your eyes and look at me,” he said in a firm voice.

When she finally complied, he saw the tears that threatened to fall from her glossy eyes.

“What the hell do you mean I don't understand how hard it is for a girl like you? What kind of girl are you referring to?”

She flushed and would have closed her eyes again but he gave a warning tap to her cheek with his thumb, commanding her attention.

“I've never had anything,” she said in a low tone. “Except my parents' love. My friends' love. Their support. I've worked for everything
else
I've ever had, and granted it's not much, but it's mine. It was earned and I take a certain amount of pride in that. A girl like me has to work for what she gets because there aren't a lot of men out there lining up for a boring, quiet, mousy girl who doesn't need or want
things
. I just feel like you give me so much and I give you
nothing
in return.”

She was becoming perilously close to those tears falling, and he could feel her distress radiating from her in waves.

“The gifts are beautiful. Very precious to me. I love each and every one of them. I'm scared to death to wear the jewelry because what if I lose it? But at the same time, every gift is a reminder of how much you give to me and how little I give you in return.”

Now she was openly crying, tears sliding silently down her cheeks and colliding with his thumbs.

“All I've ever had to sustain me before was my sense of self-worth,”
she said in a choked, emotion-filled voice. “You can't put a price tag on self-worth. And right now, I don't feel worth much at all and I hate that feeling. It's a helpless feeling, and God, there's nothing worse than feeling—
being
—helpless. You have so much pride, Drake. Surely
you
understand what I'm trying to say.”

She was coming far too close to begging for his liking. The desperation in her voice seared him to the depths of his soul.

Her impassioned outburst struck a chord deep within him. He marveled at the fact that in all the relationships or rather short acquaintances he'd entertained, never once had a woman taken issue with anything he chose to give her. In fact, there were many times the woman pouted ever so prettily that the earrings were beautiful but without a necklace to complement them the look just wasn't as breathtaking.

Never had he had a woman stand before him and speak of the one thing he was very well acquainted with. Pride. Self-worth. Of not accepting anything from anyone and earning every damn thing he possessed. And yet he'd reduced her to that by showering lavish gifts on her, as though he could buy her affection, her smile, her happiness when in fact, when he thought back on it, the brightest smiles he could remember seeing were when she saw him after a long day at work, how happy she seemed to be when he chose to stay in and allowed her to cook on the rare occasions they didn't go out. Nothing he had bought her had come close to the kind of joy and contentment he'd seen in her eyes and on her face that simply being with him seemed to give her. Was she for real? It utterly bewildered him, and for the first time in his life, he had no idea how to handle a woman. This woman. And it made him feel helpless, like a first-class fuckup.

“You're wrong when you say you have nothing to give me,” he said gruffly, still grappling with revelations still swirling in his mind. “But I
do
understand, Angel. I understand only all too well.”

Suddenly the distance between them was too much. Not just the
physical distance but the emotional distance as well. He'd made so many mistakes with her. And even knowing she wasn't like any other woman he'd ever met, he'd still treated her the same. Lavishing expensive gifts on her instead of providing the things that really mattered to her. Even knowing the priceless treasure he possessed and that she was unique and rare, he hadn't made the effort to truly learn her.

He held out his arms, holding his breath and hoping she didn't refuse him. “Come here, Angel. I refuse to have this conversation when you look tired on your feet and all I want to do is hold you.”

He exhaled a long sigh of relief when after only a slight hesitation, she walked into his arms. He wrapped them around her and for a long moment he simply held her, closing his eyes as he buried his face in her sweet-smelling hair.

Then he maneuvered her to the sofa and sat, pulling her down into his lap, once more wrapping his arms tightly around her. Her slight frame nestled perfectly against his. As if she'd been made for him and only him. Two pieces of a puzzle.

So fucking perfect. Soft, warm. So loving and generous. She was a shining light in the darkest recesses of his tarnished soul. A welcome-home gift—treasure—every time he walked through his door.

“First I want to address the issue of equality and what you can contribute to make you feel as though you give me something in return for what I give you. Though, babe, if
all
you ever gave me were you, I'd spend the rest of my life trying to catch up, because nothing and I mean nothing I give you will ever be more precious than you giving yourself to me. You can't put a price tag on something that is priceless and worth more than all the money in the world.”