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Authors: K. M. Scott

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Give in to Me

BOOK: Give in to Me
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GIVE IN TO ME

K.M. SCOTT

The third book in the Heart of Stone series concludes the sensual and emotional story of Tristan and Nina that began in Crash Into Me and continued in Fall Into Me…

Tristan Stone has lived a life other men would kill for. Literally. But all the money, women, and fast cars mean nothing to him since Nina came into his life. Danger lurks around every turn with enemies wearing friendly faces. Whatever it takes, he’ll protect the woman he loves because without her, life isn’t worth living.

Nina Edwards had no idea of the world Tristan would give her. All her dreams have come true, but with the good comes the bad, and this world of his has more than enough of that. For love, though, she’ll face not only Tristan’s demons but anyone who stands in her way of finally finding happiness with the man she loves.

Give In To Me
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

2014 Copper Key Media, LLC

Copyright © 2014 Copper Key Media, LLC

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

Published in the United States

Cover Design: Bookin’ It Designs

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9891081-8-8

Chapter One

Nina

Jordan waited for me at the end of the hallway, ready to head off to school. I was running late, so by the time I reached her, she was tapping her foot and giving me that raised eyebrow look she always did when she was well on her way to lashing out. I saw in her green eyes the anger simmering just below the surface this morning.

“I know this house is huge, but maybe you could remember I have an entire class of third graders and a principal who because of her lack of sex is literally the crankiest woman you’ll ever meet. If Sister Fits Nice and Tight reams me out because poor old Jensen can’t get me to school on time, you’re going to see a whole new Jordan at dinner tonight.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be late. I just got tied up with something,” I said in my best “forgive me” voice.

Her face twisted into a scowl. “I bet if I checked your cell phone I’d see what was tying you up. You’re still texting him every morning, aren’t you?”

“And every night before I go to sleep in his bed as I stare at the painting I made just for him.”

Jordan sighed, her shoulders sagging, and a frown settled into her beautiful features. “Oh, honey. It’s been months since he answered you. He probably doesn’t even have that phone anymore. I’m not saying he’s not ever coming back or you shouldn’t do that every day and night, but…”

Her words faded away as she stared at me with pity in her eyes. No matter. I didn’t care if anyone believed what I believed. I knew in my heart he was receiving every text I sent. I didn’t know why he didn’t answer, but that didn’t change the fact that I wanted him to know that I hadn’t given up on us.

Picking up her bag, I handed it to her with a smile. “You’re going to be late. Have a good day, and don’t be too hard on those little darlings.”

“You’re not coming today?”

“No. I have a meeting with Daryl, so I can’t head into the city today. Maybe tomorrow, though.”

Grimacing, she spun on her heels and headed toward the front door. “Daryl? That guy who looks like a mountain man? I’ll take the uptight nun and eight year olds, thank you.”

“Have a good day, Jordan. What do you say to pizza tonight?”

She stopped and turned to face me. “Are you sure you can handle that?”

“You mean sauce and cheese on crust?” I joked, knowing she saw right through my facade.

“I’m serious, Nina. The last time we tried Tony’s you were bummed for days.”

“I’ll be okay. I’ve been craving flat birch beer.”

Jordan shook her head. “You rich people have weird tastes. I’m off to mold young minds. Later, gator.”

I yelled after her, “After while, crocodile!”

As she opened the door, she looked back at me and smirked. “So uncool.”

When I knew I was safely alone, I slipped my phone out of my pocket and scrolled through my messages to the one I’d sent Tristan just minutes earlier. My breath caught in my chest as I read the words and prayed for some kind of response.

Good morning. I dreamed about you last night. I miss you so much. Every night I convince myself that you’re finally going to come back to me, but every morning I wake up alone. I love you. I haven’t given up on us, Tristan.

I hadn’t given up, even if Daryl had talked me out of going to look for him. I was sure he knew where Tristan was, but if he did, he wouldn’t tell me. He was as close as I could get to the man I loved, though, so when he called and said he wanted to meet, I always agreed, every time hoping that day would be the one when he’d finally tell me what happened to Tristan and when he was coming home.

Scrolling through months of texts, I stood there in the entryway reading what remained of our relationship. Text after text showed the slow progression of my feelings over time from sadness to anger to acceptance. I’d lived through the loss of him from my life in those messages straight from my heart. Some days they’d been the only way I could get out of bed and face the world. Expressions of desperation and hopelessness, they gave me something no person or thing that remained in my life could.

They were a lifeline each morning and night connecting me to Tristan.

Jordan didn’t understand why I continued to bother since he’d stopped answering my messages the day after he left. Some days I didn’t understand either, but I couldn’t stop myself. There was some small relief from my heartache in tapping out my feelings into words, regardless of where they went once I clicked Send.

Some nights I scrolled through every message, terrified that my phone had deleted some of the earlier ones. A sort of mania took over, and I’d have to count each one, reading every single text to make sure they all still existed, as if losing even one meant losing a part of him.

Over the months, I’d gotten better at pretending for everyone around me so they thought I was handling it all pretty well. Jordan knew more than the others, but even she had no idea how much I missed Tristan. Looking down at my phone, I read my newest message to him.

If you see these, you need to know that today’s a hard day for me. It’s never easy, but today’s really hard. I miss you so much.

Send.

I stuffed the phone back into my jeans pocket because if I didn’t, I’d stand there texting Tristan all day until Jordan got home. Daryl was scheduled to get there in just minutes, so at least I wouldn’t have a lot of time to sit and think. That was the worst. It’s why I went into the city most days. At least when I was thinking surrounded by millions of people I didn’t feel so alone. The city did that for us lonely folks.

But even visiting art museums couldn’t improve my spirits. Lately, I usually ended up at The Cloisters staring at images of death in the Middle Ages, and even in my funk I knew that wasn’t a good sign.

A knock at the door told me Daryl was early, so I let him in and we sat in the same room we’d been in when he told me Tristan was gone and he didn’t know when he’d return. It was like our ritual. Each time I’d sit on the couch where I’d sat that first night with Tristan, and Daryl would sit opposite me and begin talking about things I pretended to understand. Even now, months later, I had no clear idea about why Karl needed to have my father’s notes, and I didn’t think Daryl knew either, although he seemed to feel he understood better than I did.

I didn’t care about any of that. Karl, my father’s notes, and whatever Tristan’s father had done meant nothing to me. I just wanted Tristan home and the two of us to live happily ever after. Or at least as much as that was possible with us.

Daryl was looking particularly mountain mannish, as if he’d decided trimming his rusty colored beard wasn’t required as long as he wore a dress shirt. He had that chest hair peeking out look that I found gross, and his whole appearance made paying attention to him difficult, especially today.

“How are you doing out here? Any problems? Any security issues?” he asked in his best dad voice.

“West and Varo would have told you if there were any. I don’t think they keep much to themselves when it comes to their job.”

“True. Those boys do take their job seriously. I’m thinking Tristan must have found them at a military school or something. They’re good for what we need them to be, though. I was talking more about Karl or anyone from the Stone Worldwide Board. Have they tried to contact you at all?”

I shook my head and frowned at even the mention of them. “No. Why would they contact me?”

“Because they likely think you know where he is.”

“Well, as you well know, I don’t, even though I think you do,” I said in a voice that reflected my anger and frustration at the whole situation.

Daryl stared at me, and I waited for him to say either he knew or he didn’t, but instead he simply continued his train of thought. “If Karl shows up here…”

I cut him off mid-sentence. “I know. Get West and Varo up here lickity split and have them rough him up for me.”

“No. Nina, I need you to take this seriously.”

“Roughing up Karl sounds pretty serious to me, Daryl.”

“Nina, I’m responsible for making sure you’re safe. I’m just trying to do my job here.”

“Does your job include telling me where Tristan is?” I asked sharply, making the conversation come to a dead stop.

Daryl’s expression lacked any emotion at all, and he stared at me, finally answering, “No, it doesn’t.”

Even his faded brown eyes gave no indication whether he knew where Tristan was or not, so as usual, I gave up and forced a smile. “Fine. What else do we have to talk about?”

“The Karl business is a real concern, Nina. He’s gotten the Board to take over Stone Worldwide, but as long as Tristan is somewhere in this world, he can’t truly take control of the company.”

“I would think if he intended to pump me for information, he would have done it before. It’s been four months, Daryl. Karl and the Board think he’s never coming back.”

My voice caught as I spoke those words. Never coming back. A knot twisted in my stomach as the words echoed in my head. Never coming back.

“We have to be careful,” Daryl continued, likely not noticing that I didn’t want to talk about this anymore. “Karl is going to be a danger as long as Tristan’s gone.”

I couldn’t do this today. Jumping up from the couch, I threw my hands up. “Then maybe he shouldn’t be gone! Maybe he should be here handling things instead of leaving everything up to me!”

Daryl stared up at me, his eyes wide for a moment until his expression calmed once again. I knew this whole situation wasn’t his fault, and it wasn’t right for me to shoot the messenger. It’s just that it all was too much sometimes, and this morning I was really feeling down. I sat again, feeling guilty for my outburst. It wasn’t even noon yet and I was exhausted.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re just doing your job, Daryl.”

“No problem. Everybody has to let off a little steam every so often. I understand.”

“Just tell me what you need me to do and I’ll do it,” I said, resigned to the fact that today was yet another day that I wouldn’t hear the words I so desperately wanted him to say.

“I need you to just stay strong. I can’t tell you when he’s coming back, but he will. You just have to believe.”

Nodding, I plastered a smile on my face. “Got it. Believe. I’m on it.”

“I also need you to make sure West and Varo know your every move.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he stopped me. “I know you don’t like it, but this is the way Tristan wants it. Those two are just doing their jobs too, so how about you give them a break?”

“Got it. Give the big guys a break.”

I wanted to scream that I wanted a break, but something about the way Daryl explained things made me feel like an ass for complaining. I lived a life most people would give their right arm for. I had a beautiful home, a cook who made my meals, a driver to take me wherever my heart desired, and bodyguards to ensure my safety. Tristan had made sure my bank account had swelled to a sum more than I could spend in ten years. There wasn’t a thing I couldn’t buy. What on Earth did I have to complain about?

BOOK: Give in to Me
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