Sweet Abduction (11 page)

Leah

The night before the fight, I’m pretty much a wreck. Riley wants me at the fight. He says George and Emily won’t come and he wants me in the arena. I can’t bring myself to argue. When I talk to him, it’s like he’s somewhere else. There’s nothing but cold steel behind his eyes.

I’ve had three texts from Charlotte that say she and Miranda and Dane are coming to the fight. I can’t understand that. At all. But when I sit down at Riley’s desk to search headlines, I find one about the fight and there’s a quote from Miranda. She told the reporter that the family will be there to support Riley because that’s what families do.

Ugh. The last person in the world I want to see right now. The arena seats thousands but I’m sure I’ll see her. I just know it. I can’t get away from her. Human fly paper.

I scan through the rest of the headlines just to distract myself. There’s an article about Dane and the number of violent criminals he’s put away this year. A photograph shows him entering the courtroom in a three-piece suit, carrying a briefcase and looking solemn. I feel a glimmer of pride. He’s not the same kid who taught me how to do chicken farts. He still has his moments but he’s come a long way.

Another story catches my eye about the man Riley is going fight. Not him exactly but his former coach who was arrested for trying to bring drugs into the country. Vronsky paid his bail last week and the man will be at the fight tomorrow night.

I drop my head into my hands and rub my forehead. It seems like the fight is never going to get here. I just want it to be over with. Finally.

Looking out the window, I think about what will happen after the fight. I don’t have to stay. I could slip away from Riley and I don’t think he’d come after me. Or would he. A shiver of pleasure rolls up my spine imagining him chasing me…where? I’m not sure, but the idea makes me feel tingly. I want to think that he wants me. Not just because he can use me somehow, but because he just wants me.

The maid pokes her head in the door. “Ms. Tarrant?”

Her voice yanks me back to reality. I’m not used to being called Ms. Tarrant. Riley thinks it’s amusing because apparently I blush anytime someone calls me that.

“Yes.”

“I did the shopping for you and put the groceries away.”

The groceries… I’d almost forgotten that I invited Ivan, his wife and a few of Riley’s friends over for dinner. “Thank you.”

“Will there be anything else you need?”

I shake my head, thank her and a moment later I hear her and the other ladies leaving. The next hour I spend prepping ingredients for dinner. Riley is down at the gym working with Ivan and although no one has told me not to go down there, the gym has a definite Men Only vibe.

By the time the salad is made, the steaks seasoned and the rest of the side dishes made, it’s time to dress for dinner. First, I pick out some pants, but change my mind and pick out a short, sassy skirt and silk blouse. I would never have worn something like this before coming to Riley’s home. Miranda was the closest thing I had to a mother and she liked to guide my clothing choices, especially when it came to some sort of party or event. The outfit had to be perfect. If I wore something that was showy or sexy or gaudy, I’d get days of stony silence from her.

I hear footsteps outside my door. Riley’s returning from his work out and a moment later I hear his bedroom door close. I imagine him, sweaty, tired but content. Exercise helps him burn off his aggression. For a moment, I consider what he will do with all that energy when he’s not training anymore.

Not training anymore…

The idea both thrills me and terrifies me. After tomorrow night, there will be no reason for us to keep this relationship semi-platonic. I’ve imagined him taking me to bed a thousand time, but I’ve also fretted that he might have no interest in me at all. What if after everything, all this is a ploy? A scheme? Some sort of stunt to link my name with his to build up hype for the fight. I don’t know what he stands to earn with this last fight, but I know it’s a lot. He’s made it clear he wants me at the arena and that cameras shots will cut away to me, The Mystery Woman. Great.

I return to the kitchen so I can finish off the final details of dinner. It’s simple. Flat-iron steaks in a wine and mushroom sauce, mashed potatoes and a few other sides for variety.

Riley has invited his lawyer and publicist and he takes them to the living room for a drink. A few minutes later, Ivan arrives with his wife, Sofia. She’s a sweetheart and even though she’s in her first trimester and doesn’t feel great, she pitches in to help when it’s time to serve the meal.

I’ve planned this for days but my appetite isn’t any better than Sofia’s. We eat in the dining room, and everyone tells me how wonderful dinner is but I can barely muster a response. Ivan studies me with interest, his gaze darting from me to Riley and back again.

Sofia smiles. “Neither of us thought Riley would ever settle down, but we’re glad he did, right Ivan?”

Ivan nods and lifts his glass to me. “Marriage is a good thing. It civilizes a man.”

Sofia smiles at him. “I’m still waiting.”

She and I exchange small talk while Riley walks his lawyer and publicist out. They both say a polite goodbye, tell me dinner was great and then they’re gone. I notice Ivan’s look of disdain when they leave. I can tell he doesn’t care for the commercial aspects of fighting.

When Riley returns he’s as quiet and remote as he’s been all week. A few days ago he came to me and rested his head against me. He never said a word. The gesture melted my heart and I wanted to hold him there but he didn’t stay. He doesn’t ask if he can come to my bed or joke about hauling me to his and I feel him slipping away from me. Disengaging. He’s barely polite to Sofia and says only a few words to Ivan.

“You’re a wonderful cook, Leah,” Sofia says as she helps me clear the table.

“You don’t need to help me clear the table. You’re probably exhausted.”

“Not at all. Ivan asked me to quit my job at the dentist’s office a few weeks ago and all I do is sit around. I’m like a house cat.” She pats her flat stomach. “A roly-poly house cat.”

I laugh even though at ten weeks I’m pretty sure she’s a long way from showing.

“Have you always been such a good cook?” she asks as she rinses the plates.

If I had good manners, I’d urge her out of the kitchen and away from the dishes, but I find her conversation comforting. Riley’s distanced himself from me, and I feel a little lost without his usual teasing.

“When it was just Dad and me, we ate whatever.” I start stacking the rinsed plates in the dishwasher. “We ate sandwiches. Frozen pizza. Total bachelor food. And when he married my stepmom, she hired a cook. Not just any cook, but a professional chef. When I went off to school, I didn’t really like the cafeteria food. I guess I’d gotten spoiled by Miranda’s chef. So I started reading cookbooks and watching shows. I used to cook a huge Sunday brunch for the girls in my sorority.”

Sofia gives me a handful of silverware to load. “That sounds pretty nice.”

“It was fun. One day I’m going to take a cooking class.”

Ivan walks in at that moment and leans against the doorway. “You can take my Sofia with you.”

She lets out a snort of indignation. “Don’t listen to him. Just because I don’t cook Russian dishes he thinks my cooking is bad.”

Ivan chuckles and I’m amazed by the way his face is transformed by his smile. He’s handsome and the way he looks at Sofia twists something inside of me.

Sofia keeps rinsing dishes and grumbles about his lack of gratitude and he’ll be sorry when he has to make his own breakfast in the morning. The two go back and forth for a while longer and when the dishes are done, we wander back out to the dining room.

Riley is nowhere to be found.

“Could I offer you some coffee,” I ask Ivan and Sofia.

Ivan brushes the offer away with a few polite words about needing to get Sofia home. The girl is fading by the moment.

“Being pregnant is hard work,” she says, stifling a yawn.

I see them out, thank them for coming and stand in the doorway as they drive off.

The house is quiet and I wonder where Riley is. I suppose he wants to be alone and I can’t blame him. Tomorrow is a big day and I should let him be. Instead of looking for him, I go to my room and draw a bath. I undress and pull my hair into a high ponytail to keep it dry. The tub fills with water and I throw in some bathing crystals. Soon the bathroom fills with a lavender scent.

Soaking in the tub usually relaxes me, but all I can think of is Riley. My heart squeezes. Is he stressing about the fight? Maybe I should check on him and make sure he’s okay. I should at least say good night and…what? Good luck?

After my bath, I smooth on a little lotion and get into a gown and bathrobe. I check my phone and find a ton of messages but none from Riley. I ignore all the messages but Charlotte’s. She’s sent a picture of the shoes she’s picked out for the wedding. They’re cute strappy pumps.

Go? No go?

I text her back. Go.

That’s the way it’s been between us since I left home. Charlotte still sends me pictures of cakes and dresses and bouquets. She wants my approval and it makes me happy that a word from me helps her with the decisions. I’m helping with details, remotely.

Taking my phone with me, I go downstairs and look around. He’s not in the den or study and the kitchen is deserted. I step outside and head down to the gym. The ivory moon hangs low in the sky, just above the horizon and doesn’t offer much light. I turn the flashlight app on my phone and start down the path. The gym is dark but I know he’s there because I hear the speedball going. He’s pounding the hell out of it and I wonder how long he’s been at it.

Just as I get to the door the sounds stop. Silence. The door, a large, garage-style door, is open as is one on the other side of the gym. A breeze blows.

The gym is dark. I know he’s there but I don’t know where. He always knows when I’m nearby. It’s as though he senses it and it’s a little spooky. The darkness doesn’t help. A shadow moves a few feet away and he materializes in the moonlight.

“You came,” he says.

“I did.”

Sweat beads on his brow. His eyes are cool, assessing, and while his body appears relaxed, I sense his muscles are taut like he’s ready to spring.

“I worried about you.”

He shakes his head. “C’mon. You worried about me?”

“You don’t believe me?”

His lips curve into a provocative smile, one that makes sparks fly across my senses. Sometimes when he looks at me with that expression I feel like I’m free falling. He takes my hand in his. My fingers brush across the tape he wraps around his knuckles. Tugging me forward, I’m forced to step into the inky darkness of the gym. He leads and I follow, not knowing where I’m going but trusting that he knows.

His hand tightens. “Watch your step.”

The surface beneath my feet changes from the hard concrete to the springy mat. My step falters and before I can utter a word, he grabs my waist and steadies me.

We take a few more steps and then he stops. He cups my face in his hands. The tape on his hands scrapes my jaw. His mouth comes down hard on mine, and he angles his head to deepen the kiss. I’m powerless to resist. I submit, parting my lips and groan when he strokes my lips and mouth with his tongue. His kiss tastes of power and sin and revenge and hundred other things I’ve never understood. I weaken as he gathers me into his arms. Lifting me from my feet he pulls me against him. The heat of his body warms my chilled skin.

“Riley,” I plead, not knowing what I want from him.

He lowers to one knee and sets me on the sparring mat. I have no idea what he wants. All I can do is wait and in the shadowed darkness, I sense him as much as see him rearing up over me. A sharp tug at my neckline followed by the sound of my gown ripping shoots adrenaline through my veins. I want him. So badly. I want him to take me but I know we can’t do that. Riley cannot be with me. Not in that way. Not tonight, the night before the fight.

The cool night air washes over me. I’m bare. There is nothing between me and Riley. His mouth sears my breast and when I feel his tongue brush across my nipple I know I’m lost to him. The heat of his mouth electrifies my senses. I clasp his head. Hold him. Press him against my breast.

His teeth sink softly around my nipple. The sharp cut of his teeth against my tender skin draws a whimper from my lips.

Anything. Riley. I’ll give you anything. It’s all for you.

He clasps my hips and kisses a line of molten kisses down my chest and further down my belly.

My mind revolts against what transpires. I’m in the middle of a gym. On a sparring mat. My gown is torn from my body. Riley wants something I’ve only ever imagined. In my dirtiest fantasies.

This can’t be real.

Another tug and my panties are torn away. Silently I beg him not to throw away his fighting career by having sex with me on his sparring mat. My thoughts move slowly and as he kisses my belly I want to tell him to stop. I worry about him getting hurt more than anything else.

“If you have sex with me,” I whisper, “I’ll steal you away. Take you to some remote place and keep you there till the fight is conceded. Vronsky will be declared the winner.”