Grievous (Wanted Men Book 5) (11 page)

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Authors: Nancy Haviland

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BOOK: Grievous (Wanted Men Book 5)
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“I’m glad you’re okay, Yas,” Eric called. “Get your ass home before this one has a breakdown.”

“Shoo,” Miranda said as Yasmeen laughed. “Okay. Tell me. You’re sleeping with him again, aren’t you.”

“We haven’t slept yet, no.”

“Yasmeen! Talk to me!”

“He drugged me, brought me to his castle in Romania, and is keeping me here as his pet until he gets over the murder of his little brother. We had sex for a couple of hours shortly after we arrived and I’m pretty sure I haven’t stopped shaking since.”

Silence.

She squeezed her eyes closed and cursed her lack of tact. “The drugging and kidnapping were asshole moves, but I don’t hate being his pet. Though I
do
hate when he claims he owns me. Tell me I’m fucked in the head.”

“Uh, wow. What a prick. A rich prick to be able to pull that off. And, nope. Sorry to disappoint but your head’s normal. What woman wouldn’t want to be a billionaire’s pet? Especially a billionaire she’s already slept with and is half in love with. Does he know that? Tell me he doesn’t know that.”


No
. And if it’s up to me, he’ll never know that.”

“Good. As for the owning you thing; I don’t know. Eric owns me heart and soul, so I’m not the best person to ask.”

“Lucian doesn’t want me, though, Mir. It’s like he doesn’t see me. Oh, he sure enjoys what I look like. Loves my body and stuff, but he doesn’t see
me
. I swear when I talk, he hears white noise. But he does enjoy my body,” she said again in case she didn’t make that clear the first time.

“Fuck him then. Get on a plane and get your gorgeous ass home. Friggin’ jerk. What the hell’s wrong with him? You’re amazing.”

“He’s grieving. You have no idea how devastated he is over his brother’s death.” She lowered her voice to a whisper again. “He isn’t the same person I met last time. He’s
aggressively
grieving, Miranda. He said having me as a distraction is the only thing stopping him from…well, from acting out his violent fantasies. God, you should see him. He’s like something out of a movie. Half the time I’m shitting my pants, the other half I’m pulling them down and bending over like the neighbor’s cat when she’s in heat and she sees Loki in the window. He’s domineering, self-indulgent, and has no clue what invasion of privacy means. But he’s also charming and sexy, and he makes me lose my mind every time he touches me. I feel something I shouldn’t when I’m with him. And he’s hurting so badly, Miranda. I don’t know if I would walk away even if I could. I’m so fucking confused. And I’ve been cursing my idiot head off. Do I sound like me anymore? I don’t think I do.”

“You always swear when you’re backed into a corner. And you sound exactly like you. I like it because its not that pole-up-the-hoop fake Yasmeen you turn into when you’re at work. But I don’t like this other stuff. What violent fantasies? I hope you don’t star in them. And whose privacy did he invade? Yours? I mean, aside from…seriously, he drugged you, Yasmeen. Can you not call the police on him and come home? No, shit, of course not,” she answered her own question. “You’re too into him. How the fuck, though? Is he at least being nice to you? He’s not tying you up, is he?”

The shower turned off in the other room. “Shit. I gotta go. I just had to call and tell you I wasn’t dead, and I love you, too. Loki is in the Hamptons, and I should be home in a couple of days. I’ll try to call again.”

“Take care of yourself, Yas. Please.”

“I will. Maybe…maybe I can help him.” She looked at the bathroom door and realized again how much she wanted to. This overbearing madman she was experiencing couldn’t be who he was. It just couldn’t. “You know, before we part ways again.”

“Dammit. Call me when you have more time to talk. You have to explain that tone to me. You sound as if you don’t
want
to part ways with your
kidnapper
. You’re there against your will, you asshat!” Miranda hissed.

“But I don’t think I am anymore.”

“What?”

She winced. “I know. Like I said, I’m confused. I’ll call you,” she whispered. “Love you. Bye.”

She hung up with a sigh and put the phone back on the pillow, hoping Lucian wouldn’t remember if it had been facing up or down because she didn’t remember either. She slid back across the mattress and assumed the position a few seconds before the door opened to admit one hell of a tattooed masterpiece.

 

♦ ♦ ♦

 

Lucian walked out of the bathroom and found his pet in the same spot he’d left her. He adjusted the towel around his waist and took his fill. Her chin was on her knees that she’d tucked up to her chest, and she wore a dark…hungry?...expression. Her hair was swaying, proving she’d been active only seconds ago. Her gaze followed him as he crossed the room and went into the closet. His heart rate accelerated with every step.

“Do you read, Yasmeen?” he asked, disregarding the odd reaction. He dropped the towel and dressed in casual slacks and a light knit, both in black. He looked at every item in the closet that was identical to six others that were in the master bedrooms of his homes around the world. No longer was there any color. Not even in the rolled ties he could see through the glass-front drawers. Color wasn’t welcome.

“I’m not illiterate if that’s what you’re asking.”

He had to get to his office and get in touch with New York. The demand in the back of his mind to show his displeasure at the lack of action was becoming something he could no longer ignore. “I am sorry, Markus,” he said quietly. “You deserve better. I will take care of it now.”

The sound of Yasmeen shifting on the bed reminded him of her presence.

“I will show you the library tomorrow,” he said. “If you enjoy books, you might want to spend some time in there.”

“Going for a Beauty and the Beast thing here?” she muttered just loud enough for him to hear.

If she could see inside him, she’d realize the fairy tale wasn’t that much of a stretch. He went out when he heard a knock on the door. Sorin was in the hallway with a covered tray in his hands. Because his face was free of expression—disapproval—Lucian stood back and allowed him in.

“Thank you, Sorin. If you leave it on the dresser, I’ll feed her.”

“I could not find a stainless steel bowl or plate, so you’ll have to make due with putting her scraps on a napkin so you do not dirty the floor.”

Hmm. Seemed the disapproval was alive and well. “I would consider it, but I will most likely chew her food for her before I drop it into her waiting mouth so your way will not work.”

“If you are standing over her, how will she have room to do the tricks you will no doubt demand she performs before you reward her with food?” Sorin placed the tray down on the end of the dresser and turned impatient eyes on him.

Lucian’s mouth curved. “She already performed quite beautifully. No other tricks will be required until tomorrow. Thank you for your concern.”

“Uh, anyone wanna share this convo that must be downright hilarious if your friendly expressions are anything to go by?”

Yasmeen stood and looked questioningly between them.

“Sorin is once more letting me know he does not approve of you being here,” Lucian offered in English.

“Oh.” Her cheeks flushed, but her chin tilted up rather than ducking under. “Why? Because you don’t like me?” she asked Sorin.

“If you were to reach the authorities, you could cause him trouble by telling your story.”

“Ah. I see. Well, don’t worry about it, meathead.” She stepped back and sat on the bed, her hands tucking up close to her hips, her shoulder snugging up to her ears. Agitated. Defensive. Accent more apparent than ever. “I have no intention of running to the first cruiser I see. For one, your Romanian boys wouldn’t understand me, and for another, who would they give a shit about; him or me. Him. So, because I’m not one to bang my head against the bricks, I decided a couple of days out of my quiet life to cheer up a friend isn’t gonna hurt me. If I can help him, I’m happy to do it. Satisfied?” she challenged a man who had once disobeyed orders from a panel of organized crime figures and swept through a safehouse, killing eleven men, including the Don of a Sicilian crime family. By refusing to hold off until information they’d received could be confirmed, Sorin had personally saved the lives of eleven women and children who were being shuttled out of Amalfi—and straight into a trap—until the strife between two warring families could be settled.

Lucian had never been so proud to have this man by his side. Now he just wanted his most trusted gone before another coroner could pull back a sheet that showed Sorin the way Markus had been the last time Lucian had seen him.

Sorin looked away from the defensive female to exchange a look with Lucian that was as close to a shared moment of humor as they’d had since the night they’d learned Markus had been killed. Lucian dropped his eyes and killed the connection. He would sever it completely as soon as he found a replacement he could stomach having near him for more than a few minutes at a time.

“Can you see what I am seeing? Did you hear the same fight I just heard?”

“Yes. Very clearly,” Lucian said in a gentle tone, appreciating the concern being shown for his pet. “In the morning, can I trust you to bring her into town without releasing her? I am sure she would like to see something of the area other than the inside of this castle.”

“Will you not accompany us?”

“No.”

“Then I am afraid I must decline.”

Their eyes locked. “You will take her into town when she wakes in the morning, Sorin.”

“I will be walking five to fifteen feet behind you for the entirety of the day, Lucian. Just as I do every day.”

His chest tightened. What would he do if something were to happen to this man who considered it his life’s work to keep Lucian alive?

Knowing him well, rather than bark out orders, Lucian honed in and used the underlying respect Sorin had for women, developed through the love he had for his older sister. “I am merely trying to make her stay here more enjoyable. If I take her, she will do something I find impossible to resist, and I will humiliate her by performing a frowned-upon sexual act in public.” He went to her and lifted her face by cupping her chin. He spoke the truth as he traced her features. “My control where she is concerned does not exist. I do not think I would actually fuck her in the middle of the square, but…” He shrugged as if it was a possibility. And now that the imagery was there, Christ, he wanted to take her into town and fuck her in the middle of the goddamn square. The more people around to witness the public claiming, the better.

He shook his head of the idea. “But if you bring her while I am working, she might enjoy herself. She mentioned earlier that she wanted to pick up a trinket or two for her friends waiting for her at home. She called Miranda, by the way, so Vex should stop harassing you once word gets back to him that Yasmeen has made contact.”

Sorin was frowning as he came forward. “You allowed her to call home?”

“Are you two seriously going to carry on like this?” Yasmeen demanded, jerking out of his grip. “Do you have any idea how rude you’re being?”

Lucian ignored his pet’s frustrated complaint and smoothly continued to lie, keeping to the language only he and Sorin understood. “Yes, of course. Now that I have her, and have been open with her about why I took the measures I did to get her here, I felt it was time to give her back some freedom.” He bit his tongue to refrain from saying anything more. He bit it so hard he tasted blood. But in his head, he couldn’t stop the rest from coming.
Freedom that no longer belongs to her. It is mine. Just as everything about her is mine. I allowed her to claim one small victory over me, but she will not be afforded another.

Sorin jammed his hands into his pockets and bent his head. His brow came down low, and his beard rippled. Lucian put his finger to his lips to tell Yasmeen to remain quiet while his protector warred with himself.

“If you will give me your word that you will not leave the castle, I will take her,” Sorin finally growled.

“You have my word.”

Sorin thrust his huge hand at him. “Swear on Markus’s memory.”

Lucian’s gut rebelled as though an iron fist had made contact with it. “I will do nothing with my brother’s memory but cherish it. Leave us, Sorin.” He walked away from both of them as he tried to catch his breath.

“Forgive me. I cannot trust who you are right now, Lucian. Markus’s memory is the only thing left of any importance to you. Of course, I would use it to seal your vow.”

“Do not ever do it again.” He took the lid off the tray to see two cooling bowls of soup, bread, and cold meats. There was also a bowl of cherries. He took that up and went back to sit next to Yasmeen. “I will bring the tray down myself.”

Taking that as the dismissal it was, Sorin left.

“Do you like cherries?”

Yasmeen lowered his hand from where he was offering her one of the plump fruit. “What was that about?”

“Were we speaking English?”

“Not that I heard,” she said dryly.

“Then it is not your concern. Take.” He lifted his offering again.

“I’m only asking because I heard my name.” She scraped her top teeth from his knuckle to the tip of his finger before taking the cherry. An intended punishment?

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