Sweet Abduction (12 page)

A soft rumble of laughter hits my ears. “Yeah?”

With that single word he taunts me, undermining my resolve.

He knows I have no place to take him. Zero resources. I might be worth a few million, or I might be worth nothing. I have no idea. The story of my life. I’m the poor little rich girl. He’s the rags to riches boy. But now, on the eve of his fight, everything crystalizes. The only thing I need is for Riley to be safe. I don’t care about the money. Just him. That’s all.

With his immense shoulders, he nudges my knees apart. I offer no resistance. He continues his path downward and when his mouth brushes over my sex, I tremble.

“You’re all I want,” he breathes. And then he kisses me, runs his tongue along my sex and growls when I flinch. “You won’t get away,” he warns. “Not from me. Never.”

It’s too much, too overwhelming and I try to edge away, but he tightens his hold on me, pinning me to the mat with his iron grip. I lie beneath him amidst the remnants of my gown, slowly surrendering to his wicked caress. His tongue presses against my clit making me writhe.

My inhibitions fall away. Small sounds escape my lips, sounds I don’t recognize as my own. As my pleasure spirals up, they grow more needy and plaintive. I thread my fingers through his hair. When he sucks my clit, I arch beneath him, ecstasy tearing through my body. My cries echo against the walls of the gym as I’m gripped by the most intense pleasure I’ve ever known.

Riley scatters kisses the length of my thigh and up the front of my body. He prowls over me. My heart pounds against my ribs. I wait to see what he’ll do next. There’s nothing shielding me from him and if he wanted to take me now he could. But he doesn’t. Instead, he takes my hand and pulls me to my feet.

We walk back to the house in silence. The moon rides high in the cloudless sky, lighting the way and casting everything in a silvery glow. When we reach the house, he takes me to my room. He stops outside the door. I wait. For what I’m not sure. A word? A kiss? But he says nothing, simply pulling me into an embrace. And then he’s gone, disappearing into his room.

Riley

I step out of the shower and eye the bathroom door with a mixture of surprise and amusement. When I entered the bathroom this morning, I must have opened the door with a little more force than was needed. The door frame is cracked. Ivan says I’m stronger than ever and credits his nasty protein shakes along with his brutal training regimen. I think it’s something else.

Toweling off, I think about her, sleeping in the next room. Leah. My wife.

Last night was beautiful. Touching her, tasting her, making her come. It was better than any fantasy I’ve ever had about Leah.

Today when she’s at the fight, she’ll see me complete my final goal. My twenty-first win. Fighters don’t like to talk about fights or to predict wins because they think it’s bad luck. I don’t believe that. I’m not superstitious. At all. I don’t believe in rituals or rabbit’s feet, just cold, calculated preparation. Everything else is just another form of fear.

I put on slacks, shirt and tie and a jacket. I dress formally for fight day. Plenty of cameras will be focused on me when I arrive at the arena, but even more will be pointed at Leah. Aside from the night at the restaurant, there are no public pictures of my Mystery Woman. Even the images from the photo shoot won’t be public for another month.

Downstairs I find Ivan sitting in my kitchen, drinking a protein shake. I’ll be happy to be done drinking his concoctions. Two other men sit with him and they jump to their feet when they see me. Sergei and Vitaly, two fighters Ivan has in training.

“Sit down,” I tell them as I take a glass filled with a bright green shake. “We’re informal here. I just wanted to explain your duties in person today. No one comes within five feet of Leah unless she says it’s okay. Keep the cameras and microphones out of her face. And damn sure don’t let anyone touch her. That clear?”

Both men say “Yes, sir” in unison. Good.

I know Ivan wouldn’t recommend people that he didn’t regard highly. Especially for something so important. Leah will be with me every moment right up until the fight. When we’re apart I want her watched over and protected.

The rest of the morning passes quickly with an interview in my gym with some young guy from the Philippines. Apparently I have a lot of fans there. Then I pose with Leah in a few pictures beside the pool. She can hardly look me in the face and when I let my hand slip down over her ass she yanks it back to her waist. In a matter of a few hours, that ass is going to be mine and I intend to make that perfectly clear to her. My marriage to Leah starts tonight.

When the photographer leaves she turns to hiss at me. “Does every picture of us need to feature your paw on my backside?”

I nod. “Mmm, Works for me.”

And then her eyes water and she bites her lip. “What would be the worst that could happen if you just didn’t show?”

“Didn’t show?” I frown. I have no idea what she’s talking about.

“For the fight.”

“Why the hell wouldn’t I show for my own fight?”

“Because I don’t want you to.” She waves her hand around, gesturing at the pool and the gardens. “We don’t need all this stuff. So what if you don’t get some huge paycheck?”

I laugh at her sentimental words. I don’t need anything but her, but I like having money. When I started down this path, I had three simple goals: take care of George and Emily, win twenty-one consecutive fights, make Leah mine. That was all. The money is just the icing. I wanted it so I could have something to offer.

Her eyes glint with a fire that I’ve never seen before and I have to say that I’m surprised that the wealthiest, classiest girl I know is suggesting I walk away from the money. It must be because she’s accustomed to having whatever she wants. She doesn’t know what it means to be hungry. Like truly, fucking hungry.

I pull her closer, cradle her face in my hands and kiss her lips softly. “I’m going to beat Vronsky, not just because I’m better, and not just because he’s cheating, but because he deserves a smack down and there’s nothing I like better than avenging some entitled little dip-shit. I plan on handing his ass to him.”

She gazes up at me with an expression that is so vulnerable and sweet it makes me feel like I could fall into it and happily drown.

“I just want you to be safe,” she says. “And I want one other thing.”

“Name it.”

“I don’t want you to give me money for this…” She gestures again. “This arrangement.”

She doesn’t want my money. That’s different. I drop my hands from her face. Usually, women who hang around fighters can’t get enough of the sweet cash flow. They need it to support their habits or appetites. I don’t have first-hand experience with this, but I’ve heard enough to know.

But Leah doesn’t want my money. I can see it in her eyes. The money is dirty. Like me. Miranda and Anderson Mathews said as much. Miranda never cared for me because I wasn’t good enough to be friends with Dane. She thought an unwanted, foster kid like me had no business around her silver-spoon family.

“I want you to take the money back,” she says. “What’s between us won’t be about money. I don’t want money that you earned fighting.”

My hands hang at my side but I feel the tension spike and travel from my shoulders downward. My fingers curl into fists. I tighten and release, tighten and release. Her words might piss me off but I channel that into thoughts of Vronsky.

“Whatever you want, Leah. I can set the money aside.”

My voice is deep and rumbles and I can see she’s a little worried. She edges away from me. Why I’m not sure. She might anger me but I’d die before I ever hurt her or let someone else hurt her.

“It makes me feel cheap,” she whispers.

God forbid a Mathews might feel cheap.

“All right. Whatever you want.”

I gave her the money so she’d have some independence from Miranda. I gave it to her so she’d have an escape hatch from me, for fuck’s sake, but if she doesn’t want it, I won’t beg her to take it. Fine by me if she has to ask me for everything. I don’t mind being old-fashioned. If I weren’t so pissed at her rejection, I might smile at the idea of her needing to depend on only me.

Enough of this. It’s time I get my mind right. I find Ivan and the boys and we load up and head to the fight.

Leah

Every seat in the arena is filled and I find my seat next to Sofia. She’s pale but her eyes shine with excitement. Vitaly and Sergei, the two men assigned to me for the evening, greet her in Russian. Vitaly sits beside her and Sergei sits beside me.

“Riley didn’t want anyone bothering you,” Sofia says, eyeing Sergei.

“They’re pretty tough. When we got to the arena there was a ton of reporters. These two guys managed to keep me from getting mobbed while Riley signed a few kid’s autographs.”

Sofia shakes her head. “It’s not just the media. Did you see all the screaming fans? I counted a dozen Rileah posters.”

“I can’t say I’m a fan of that name thing. Anytime that happens the couple winds up splitting or divorcing.”

I scan the crowd looking for Dane, Charlotte and Miranda, but I don’t see them anywhere. The place is a zoo, thousands of people moving about, most of them finding their seats but some of them talking in groups. I recognize many faces even if I don’t know the names, sports stars, TV personalities, the bad guy from a James Bond film but I can’t think of his name. It’s like I’ve opened a magazine while standing in line at a supermarket.

Over the next few moments, Vronsky and Riley enter the arena with their entourages. Both men receive a mixture of boos and applause, but Riley’s applause is thunderous.

“You’re not a fainter are you?” Sofia shouts.

“I guess I’m about to find out.”

Sofia’s about to respond but her gaze is drawn to something behind me. I turn. Miranda stands in the aisle. Sergei gives me a questioning look. He’s prepared to take down anyone aggressive but doesn’t know what to do with an older woman, in a power suit and pearl earrings.

“She’s my stepmother,” I say as I move past him.

Miranda looks out of place and smaller to me. Like she’s shrunk in the last few weeks.

“Come home, Leah,” she says, raising her voice to be heard over the din.

“Why, Miranda?” I’ve mentally rehearsed this conversation dozens of times but never imagined it happening here of all places.

She arches a brow and glances past me to Sofia and the two Russian men. Her lip curls. “You don’t belong with these people.” She tilts her head toward the ring. “Or with him.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“You’re just like your father. You were born for civic service. Leadership. None of these people will ever accomplish anything worthwhile. It’s pugilism. Barbaric. It’s the opposite of what you do and who you are.”

The roar of the crowd grows louder.

“He picked you because of who you are. He wanted to improve his social standing. To be respectable.”

Everything she says is true. He told me as much. He talked about the Halo Effect, but since then he’s shown me that he cares for me. I see it in his eyes.

“Before he married you he stood to lose three big endorsements. Since then he’s gotten them back and gotten a firm offer from a network. Marrying you almost doubled what he’ll make this year alone.”

My mouth goes dry. Riley never told me he might lose endorsements. He hadn’t told me any of that and I must look shocked because I can see the look of triumph in Miranda’s eyes.

“Are you pregnant?”

“No, no,” I’m stammering and I feel my face heat. “I mean we haven’t…”

She smirks. “Right. The pre-fight celibacy. I’ve read a few articles about him. Good. You can get an annulment.”

“I won’t do that. I’m happy.”

Miranda reaches up slowly and cups my face. “Men like him don’t want girls like you, Leah. After the fight tonight, he’s going to pick one of those women down there.”

My gaze follows hers to a section roped off from the rest of the crowd. The section is about a dozen seats and each one is filled with women, each one more stunning than the next.

“Those women are his groupies. They post all over social media. Trust me. You don’t want to know what they write about him.”

My heart twists a little even though I don’t believe Miranda for a minute. I know he doesn’t want them. What hurts is that I can’t say for certain that he wants me.

I hear the sounds of the fight starting but can’t look. All along I thought I would be able to watch but I can’t bear to see him get hurt or hurt his opponent. Miranda watches, her expression impassive. The sounds of the ring fade and I sway on my feet, grabbing the back of a seat to steady myself. I just want it to be over and to be gone from here.

Unwilling to watch what’s unfolding in the ring, I watch Miranda and the look of disgust on her face drums fear through my body. When the crowd gasps and a thump comes from the ring I have to look. Riley circles the ring, striding arrogantly, while Vronsky pulls himself up. The crowd is yelling for Riley to finish it. He circles the ring, facing the crowd, taunting them.

Vronsky lunges. Riley strikes him on the jaw, sending him staggering and the crowd erupts.

Riley likes to grandstand and while his opponent sways and almost falls, he bides his time. People shout for him to finish it and when Vronsky attacks, Riley strikes one last time, sending Vronsky to the mat.

The arena erupts and in the midst of the thunderous applause, I hear Miranda scoff.

Vronsky lies on the mat, not moving and two medics kneel beside him.

It’s over. All the worry and fear, his fighting career, over. Finally. He promised a quick match and he delivered.

Riley comes to a halt and searches the crowd for me. When he finds me, he points at me. His eyes blaze with fury and triumph. His mouth moves and I make out his words.

You’re mine now.

His gaze drifts to Miranda and his lips twist into a snarl. I half-expect him to charge up into the stands, but he doesn’t. Ivan draws him out of the ring and they disappear into the churning crowd.

“Riley Tarrant is worse than a thug,” Miranda says. “He’s a monster.”

“You don’t know him, Miranda.”

“How well do you know him?”

Her words hit me. Hard. I’m not sure how to respond. I think I know him, but do I? He can be charming and sweet and he can be cold and distant. What if taking me was just something to satisfy his ambitions and had nothing to do with me?

“Do you think he loves you? Riley Tarrant loves himself. He’s a taker. That’s why he picked you because you’re a giver.”

Do you think he loves you?

The question hangs between us. My thoughts spin and I want to throw back something like of course Riley loves me. I want to appear confident. Sure. I hold out my hand to show her the ring he gave me and her lip curls with contempt.

“Please,” she mutters. “You think that impresses me? It’s gaudy and pretentious. The bigger the jewels the dirtier the secrets.”

“What secrets?”

“Why don’t you ask him? Every man has them. If he hasn’t touched you how do you know he isn’t getting attention elsewhere?”

“He’s not.”

“Leah, you are so naïve. Like a babe in the woods. Riley is going to eat you up and spit you out.”

“He cares about me.” I try to sound confident but I can tell she’s not buying it. None of it.

She shakes her head. “I just don’t want you to be hurt. Believe it or not.”

Her expression is sad, defeated and a pang of sadness jolts my heart. I watch her walk away, slipping into the crowd and disappearing.