“You take care of yourself,” Janice says. “Toodles.”

  I walk into Garnet’s office. The man who’s the closest thing I have to a father looks calm and in control. Garnet always does. Sitting behind a ponderous antique desk, he dabs his face with a handkerchief. The air is thick with some perfume, no doubt to hide another smell underneath. I take a seat across from him and give a slight bow.

  Garnet folds the handkerchief away. “My apologies, Vincent. Did you wait long?”

  “No, Mr. Baxter.”

  “It couldn’t be helped. The mood took me.”

  “I understand.”

  “How is my niece?”

  It makes me uncomfortable discussing Briony after what just happened in this room, but I nod. “She’s home safe. I think she has a fever, sir. We should get a doctor—”

  “Did she mention me?”

  I shift in my seat. “Briony’s mother warned her to stay away from you.”

  “Not surprising. I had my differences with Amelia Rowan, but that’s in the past. We made our peace before she died.”

  I wait for a longer explanation, but Garnet rubs his chin, staring at the ceiling. Yesterday, he handed me a file with Briony’s information and told me to pick her up.

  I was surprised when I found out Garnet had a niece. After all the years I’ve been under Garnet’s wing, I know nothing about his personal life. There’s no intimacy between us even though he practically raised me. I’m not bothered. Family is a luxury I don’t need.

  “Briony mentioned problems with a lawyer,” I say. “Diane Frankel. Something about her inheritance.”

  “Diane was her mother’s attorney. I know her.”

  “You do?”

  “I know many people, Vincent. Diane prepared Amelia’s will.” Garnet removes a folder from his desk and hands it to me. “Read it.

  The document is thin, and I skim through. Amelia made Garnet the executor of her last will and testament. She left Briony’s inheritance in a trust to be managed by him. The will also names Garnet as trustee, with sole power to control the money, until Briony is responsible enough to manage her own affairs. Garnet gets to decide when that happens. Briony doesn’t have any other income, and she’s penniless for the time being. In other words, Amelia left her daughter’s future in Garnet’s hands.

  “I’m Briony’s guardian,” he says, smiling faintly.

  “She needs money, Mr. Baxter. She needs—”

  “I’ll be happy to provide anything Briony needs once she moves in with me. Go bring her back, Vincent.”

  “Now?”

  “Now. I insist.” Garnet sees my expression and adds, “Don’t question it. Just do it.”

  My stomach tightens at the thought of seeing her again. I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. “Why me?”

  “You’ve already met her, and I’m sure you made a good impression. A girl her age is easily impressionable.”

  “Sir, with respect, perhaps you should go in person—”

  “You have my complete trust.”

  I sit straighter.

  “My niece has always been a wild child. Stubborn like her mother. Briony needs guidance. I won’t let her squander her life, Vincent. She means the world to me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Get going then.”

  As I’m leaving, Garnet says, “Kayla will send one of her people with you. In case there’s trouble.”

  I freeze midstep and turn around. Garnet Baxter only involves Kayla Dominic when someone needs to be broken or killed. Taught a lesson outside the law. “Why? What trouble?”

  “Don’t question it, Vincent. Go.”

  I force my feet to move.

  Kayla gives me a grin outside. “Had a good meeting?”

  “You know something I don’t?”

  “Relax, Vince. I’ll send Teague down to your car. You can count on him.”

  “Don’t fuck around on this, Kay.”

  “When do I ever?”

  In my car, I look at Briony’s file again. Her mother, Amelia Rowan, died from a stroke last month. Amelia was Garnet’s sister-in-law. She kept her maiden name after the marriage to Garnet’s brother and named their daughter the same way. What does that tell me?

  Maybe nothing.

  Briony Rowan spent the last four years in a private school in Princeton, New Jersey. Good grades, no disciplinary record. No sign of a wild child. Before that her parents moved all over, from London to Shanghai. Her father, Edward Baxter, died eight years ago. The file doesn’t mention anything else.

  I run a finger over Briony’s picture and frown. A bad feeling crawls up behind my chest before I put the file away.

  John Teague knocks on my passenger side window. I open the door, and he slides in, sinking the car with his bulk. I’ve kept my body strong over the years, but Teague is a monster. He’s got thirty pounds on me at least. If this is Kayla’s idea of someone who can retrieve a rebellious eighteen-year-old, I’m not surprised. She has a knack for brute force.

  “Vincent Reed?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Mr. Baxter’s golden boy. Don’t worry, I’m here for support.”

  I start the engine and try not to think.

  Five minutes away from the house, I’m thinking anyway. One way or another, I need to satisfy my cravings. And John Teague better stay the hell out of my way.

  Chapter Three

  Briony

  It’s almost eleven, and my fever’s getting worse. I found some painkillers in the cabinet that didn’t help. Slumped on the living room sofa, I wish my head was clear because Mom’s letter reads like a riddle.

  I found it in her hidden safe in the garage. My mother had that safe installed behind the wall when I was thirteen, and she never told anyone besides me. She only told me because I caught her once putting some papers in it. Mom said it was a safe place to hide things from Uncle Garnet. I remember thinking at the time she was paranoid.

  I’d already gone through the house before I checked the safe. Every room is perfect, every surface spotless. I guess someone had the place cleaned after Mom’s funeral.

  The one-page letter is addressed to Mom’s lawyer, Diane Frankel. Mom wrote she’s having health issues, and should anything happen, she would leave everything to me in her will. No mention of a trust account. Then she says that Uncle Garnet is dangerous.

  “Under no circumstances can he be allowed near my daughter. He means to hurt Briony,” I read the line over and over again, rubbing my head, trying to work out what Mom means. Dangerous how? She never told me when she was alive, and the letter doesn’t say.

  Mia, sitting on the windowsill, lets out a meow.

  “I wish you could talk,” I mutter.

  Mia meows louder as she stares outside.

  I stagger to the window and spot a black car parked out front. My vision goes in and out of focus in rhythm to my pounding headache, but I make out Vincent’s BMW. I’m surprised at the relief I feel. Vincent himself is walking up the front steps, the setting sun cutting shadows in his handsome face. Another man follows him, not as tall, but heavyset.

  The doorbell’s ring splits my head with pain. Mia’s ears flatten, her eyes growing round with fear. She hops off the windowsill and scampers up the staircase.

  “Hey! It’s okay!”

  She’s gone.

  At least I think it’s okay.

  I open the door. Seeing Vincent again makes my chest flutter. Up close, he towers over me, and the gray suit he wears can’t hide the muscled contours of his chest. He frowns when I don’t speak. I can’t speak because my vision blurs, and the world seems to spin as my legs wobble. Then I fall into his arms.

  When my eyes open, I’m on the sofa again. Vincent’s sitting at my side holding a bag filled with ice on my forehead. My clothes stick to me in a sheet. Because I’m wearing shorts, his thigh rubs mine every time he bends over to keep the bag from slipping.

  “You’re burning up, Briony. Why didn’t you go to a hospital?”

  A trickle of water rolls off my forehead. “It’s only a fever.”

  “The hell it is.”

  The other man who came with Vincent stands near the window. He gives me a harsh glare. “You heard her, Vince. For fuck sakes, she’s fine. We bring her back to Mr. Baxter now. I don’t like to make him wait.”

  “She needs a doctor,” Vincent says.

  I meet his eyes, and I can’t tell if they’re blue or gray or a light shade of amber. They have a magnetic quality that pulls me in. I breathe in his fragrance, crisp and metallic. Maybe it’s his cologne.

  “Sorry about earlier,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to be rude at the station.”

  His smile wraps around my heart. “I’ve had worse.”

  “We don’t have time for this coddling shit,” Teague says.

  Vincent puts my hand on the ice bag. “Hold this, Briony.”

  I stare in a daze as he stands and faces Teague.

  “Watch your mouth,” Vincent says.

  “The boss wants her. Not tomorrow, Vince. Not next week. Not after a doctor visit. Now.”

  I push up on my elbow. “What’s going on?”

  Both of them glance at me, then at each other.

  “Your mother made Garnet your guardian,” Vincent says. “He wants to meet with you, that’s all. We came to drive you back.”

  “My mother wouldn’t do that.”

  Vincent looks puzzled. Teague glares at me in a way that makes my skin crawl.

  I point at Mom’s letter on the coffee table.

  Vincent reads it, frowning. “Where’d you find this?”

  I tell them about the safe in the garage, trying to speak clearly through the pain gnawing behind my eyes. Vincent shakes his head and folds the letter into his pocket.

  “We’ll talk about it later. You need a doctor first.”

  He wipes the damp hair out of my eyes, stroking my cheek with the back of his hand. I hold his gaze, my heart pounding, and I feel his arm slip around my waist. Vincent helps me to my feet, but the motion makes my head reel. A wave of nausea rolls through my belly.

  “Everything will be okay,” he says in my ear. “I promise.”

  I rest my head on his shoulder. I’ve heard those words from others, but this is the first time I believe them.

  We turn around to see Teague aiming a gun at us.

  “I’m taking her to Baxter’s,” he says.

  Vincent tenses, holding me tighter. “Have you lost your goddamn mind?”

  “No, Vince. You’re the one who’s lost your fucking mind. I’m following orders. This whiny little bitch is coming with me.”

  It must be the fever, but I’m not afraid at all. Or maybe it’s Vincent’s body hugging me like a shield. He sets me on the sofa again and blocks Teague’s way. “You’re not laying a finger on her.”

  “Get the fuck out of my way.”

  Vince stands still.

  Teague snarls at him. “Move.”

  A hiss cuts the air. Mia pads down the staircase behind Teague. Her fur bristles, her ears flat. She’s about to pounce.

  Teague steps toward the window, trying to face them both. “Thought I took care of that cat.”

  Vincent edges forward. “You’ve been to this house before?”

  “Shut up, golden boy. You had a simple fucking job and you screwed it up.”

  As Teague wavers, Mia leaps and latches onto his hand.

  Vincent lunges so fast it’s over in seconds. He wrestles Teague to the ground and snatches the gun, turning it on Teague, who’s lying in a heap on the carpet.

  Getting up, Teague reaches into his jacket and pulls out a knife. “You don’t have the balls,” he says, stalking forward and grinning.

  His back to me, Vincent grips the gun steadily like he’s used one before. “Find out.”

  I don’t know what Teague sees in Vincent’s face, but his grin dies, and he puts the knife down slowly, fear stitching his coarse features. “Alright, don’t shoot.”

  Vincent walks forward. At first I think he’s going to grab the knife, but he slams a fist into Teague’s head. The big man sags down with a grunt. Vincent checks his pockets, finds a phone, and stomps it to pieces. Then he tucks the gun into his belt and rushes to my side.

  “You okay, Briony?”

  My throat feels like hot sandpaper. “Yeah. D-Did you kill him?”

  “Do you want me to?”

  The question, the cold way he asks it, shocks me. I’m sure if I say yes, he would in an instant. “What? No!”

  Vincent shakes his head. “He wanted to hurt you. I couldn’t let that happen.”

  I try to steady my breathing as my head throbs. “That guy works for my uncle?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is he a lawyer too?”

  “No.”

  “What’s happening, Vincent? Why would my uncle send him?”

  “I’m not sure.” He touches my forehead. “C’mon. You need a doctor.”

  Vincent carries me in his arms out the front door. His hard, strong body feels like a wall against my head. I want to walk on my own, but I’m too weak to protest. Even though he says I’m burning, chills wrack my body, and my headache has bloated to a mountain of pain.

  “The cat,” I whisper as he sets me into the passenger seat. “I can’t leave Mia. She’s my mother’s.”

  Vincent returns minutes later cradling Mia, and he sets her in my arms. He brings my backpack too. “Thought you might need this.”

  I smile. He must be a dream. He’s like a prince from those silly fairytales I used to read when I was little.

  Vincent has no reason to help me, and I have no reason to trust him. He’s a stranger I only met today. But I do trust him.

  Right now I have no choice.

  Chapter Four

  Vincent

  My cock stirred when I felt her breasts against my chest, her arms clinging to my neck. The feeling I’ve been fighting all day comes back as I strap on her seatbelt. Briony lit a fire. She woke something inside me. It started the second I saw her picture yesterday, a girl I knew nothing about. I distrust feelings. I ignored what I felt. That’s impossible now.

  I lift the cat out of Briony’s lap and put her on the backseat. Mia lifts her head, ears up and eyes gleaming in the darkness. She makes a soft hiss.

  I raise a finger. “Stay.”

  The cat hunches down. I hope she senses I mean Briony no harm. Not bodily harm anyway.

  Sitting in the driver’s seat, I watch the girl I’m risking my life to help. The fever makes her face rosy, and her breaths leave in moans. Her eyes are closed. My gaze runs down the front of her soft neck, where a rivulet of sweat has moistened the skin. I glance at the white top that hides her tits, and I wonder what her nipples look like. I wonder what her cunt tastes like. The most base, vile thoughts flow through my head.

  I don’t understand my feelings. I’m surrounded by beautiful women every day, from Garnet’s assistants to the paralegals and attorneys at his law firm. It’s an open fucking secret Baxter’s organization has unspoken hiring guidelines when it comes to women. Then there are the girls who throw themselves at me whenever I go out. It’s not usual for a single man to visit a nice bar without plans for more, and people assume I must be on the prowl for sex. But I never am. I go to those places to think, to plan, to mull over some problem from work.

  Right now, I’m on the prowl alright.

  My guts twist. I can barely control myself. Biting my teeth, I squeeze my hard cock through my pants to ease the ache. I want to lean in and smell her and rake my hands through her hair. I’ve never been so fucking hard.

  I can’t think like this. She’s off-limits. Young and innocent.

  Or is she?

  I know nothing about Briony. For all I know she had a boyfriend in New Jersey. The thought of another man feeling what I’m feeling makes me clutch the steering wheel. The thought of another man seeing what I’m seeing turns my vision red. I want to pull her shorts down and check her pussy for a cherry. My cock jerks inside my briefs, throbbing to be let out.

  I’m losing it.

  This has to fucking stop.

  Briony needs help, and I’m here to protect her. She’s my responsibility. That’s how this started. Fuck if I’ll let my dick dictate what I do.

  Can’t stop.

  She looks so small and soft I’m afraid I’ll break her whenever I touch her. My hand reaches out again to hold her forehead. Her temperature feels worse. Then my thumb slips lower to her mouth.

  I must be sick in my own way. There’s a beast raving inside me to claim her now and forever.

  “Focus,” I growl.

  Garnet Baxter wants his niece back, but no way am I bringing her to his den until I find out what Amelia’s letter means.

  My mind races as I start the engine. Teague must be following Kayla’s orders, and her orders come from Garnet. Briony’s mother wrote that Garnet Baxter is dangerous. Of that I have no fucking doubt.

  To the outside world, Garnet is a brilliant lawyer and entrepreneur. He’s worth billions. Only a trusted few of his inner circle knows how ruthless he is—myself included. Last year, our firm defended an investment banker on a fraud charge. We won, but the banker decided our agreed-upon fee was unreasonable and squabbled over the bill. He threatened to sue our firm for malpractice. Our fee added up to five million, which is pocket change for Garnet Baxter, but Garnet said it was the principle of the thing.

  He sent Kayla and her men to collect. This banker had a daughter, who had a pet dog. A few days later, the dog was found headless on the banker’s front porch with a note that said the daughter’s next. Five million was wired to the firm’s account a few hours later. No questions asked by anyone.

  Garnet is ruthless, but he has a code of honor. He always keeps his end of an agreement. He’d never set his enforcers on someone who didn’t break a deal, who didn’t try to fuck with him like I’m doing.

  Why hurt his niece? Briony Rowan has nothing to do with his world. She’s pure. But I’m more certain than ever Briony won’t be safe with him. If I hand her over, I’d be sealing her fate—and if I don’t, I’d be sealing my own.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11