His Ward (4 page)

“I will not try to act out a vengeance in your father’s name. My word is my bond,” he said solemnly.

Tionne narrowed her gaze, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Really?”

Misha laughed, the earnest moment gone. “Do you want me to spit on my hand so we can shake on it?”

“No.” When he said it like that, she felt a bit foolish. “I guess not.”

“Then tell me.”

As much as she didn’t want to get into this with him, Tionne couldn’t see any way around it. Misha was as stubborn as he declared, and she knew that he would do as he vowed and stay there all week long if need be.

“You’re not talking.”

“I know.” She smacked his side with her hand. “Stop rushing me. I’m trying to figure out where to begin.”

“His name would be a good place to start.”

Tionne snorted. “Not happening.”

“Fine.” Tionne could tell by his tone and expression that it was anything but. “Then start where things began to go south.”

“After dinner, we went back to his place for drinks.”

Misha stiffened. “His place.”

“Yes.” Tionne met his gaze and held it. She didn’t want to share this any more than he wanted to hear it, but he was the one who’d began this, not her. “He started to kiss me and move me back on the couch in an umm”—she cleared her throat and prayed she didn’t get an aneurism from all the blood rushing to her head—“horizontal position, but it didn’t feel right. I called a stop to things, and he wasn’t pleased.”

“And this is when he struck you?”

“No, he never hit me,” she insisted strongly. “I think he thought I was playing a little hard to get or he’d seen one cheesy romance movie too many, because he thought kissing me would change my mind. When I tried to leave, he stopped me and pressed me up against the wall and, unfortunately, a nail at the same time. I tried to move, but he just kind of pushed a bit more, and it cut into my skin.”

“He forced himself on you.”

“No, not like that.” She tried to backtrack, realizing that it was coming out worse than she meant it to. “He didn’t
force
himself on me. He was just trying to persuade me, but honestly, as soon as I cried out, he stopped. He was very apologetic.”

“You cried out?”

“Yes. See, it was a big misunderstanding, but I’m okay.” The quiet way Misha was staring at her was beginning to make Tionne a little nervous. A quiet Misha was a plotting Misha, and there was nothing scarier than that. “Say something. You’re beginning to freak me out a bit here.”

“Show me.”

She really didn’t want to do that. Tionne bruised easily, and that, combined with the long gash in her skin, wouldn’t go over well at all. She wasn’t pleased with what Troy had done, but she didn’t want him to die either. “Say something besides that.”

He just stared at her, his hard gaze unwavering.

“Mish…”

“No, I want to see what this bastard did to you for myself.”

Tionne closed her eyes and groaned. Instead of putting out the fire as she’d hoped, she’d jumped straight from the frying pan into it. This night sucked ass.

Chapter Three

“Does it matter to you even a little bit that I don’t want to do this?”

“It matters a lot.” Her wants and desires always did, but they didn’t mean more than her safety. That came before everything else.

“Then why are you pressing the issue?”

“Because I care about you,” he said thickly. “If something had happened to me, if someone had hurt me, what would you do?”

“Kill them,” she said without a second’s hesitation.

His heart warmed at her fierceness. And she thought he was the bloodthirsty one. “Then imagine how I feel, little one, at the thought of some man forcing his mouth on you, pushing you against a wall, causing you to cry out in pain.”

“Mish”—Tionne cupped his cheek in her hand—“I’m okay.”

“You are everything to me. Do you not understand that? If it weren’t for you and your father’s help…” Tionne’s face clouded over, and she moved her hand. She drew into herself and away from him. This was the second time tonight she’d done that, and it bothered him just as much as it had the first time. She was pulling away from him, and he didn’t know why. “What did I say, little one?”

“I’m not a debt.”

Confused, he pulled back a bit. “What?”

“I’m not your obligation. You don’t need to keep taking care of me because of my dad.”

“I take care of you because I want to. Not that you let me.” He added the last part ruefully.

“The only thing you don’t do now is dress and bathe me,” she said sarcastically.

Misha pretended to mull that over. “Is that an option?”

Her lips twitched a bit, as if she were fighting back a smile. “No.”

“Then I’ll just settle for seeing your back.”

“Keep in mind that it looks worse than it feels.”

That was the wrong thing to say. “Not making me feel better here, love.”

“Ugh, fine.” She stood and turned her back to him. “Ready?”

Misha reached out and grabbed her waist. Tionne gasped as if she was shocked by his touch, but he ignored the sound and moved her until she was directly in front of him. When she was positioned just as he wanted, he removed his hand. “I am now.”

Tionne muttered something under her breath as she grasped her shirt on the side and slowly pulled it up. For a second, Misha forgot what he was supposed to be doing this for. He was too busy looking at the lovely dark skin being exposed to him an inch at a time. As he reached out to brush his fingers across her lower back, Tionne’s shirt rose a bit more and revealed a jagged mark. Misha cursed at what he saw.

“Are you happy now?”

“Do. I. Seem. Happy?” He bit the words off and spit them out as he stared at her back.

She looked over her shoulder at him. “It doesn’t hurt.”

“Lies.”

“It’s achy at best. Honestly.”

“Right.” The scratch wasn’t deep enough that it required stitches. Misha wasn’t even sure it had bled, but it looked slightly inflamed, and by the way she inhaled when he gently probed around it, the scratch was obviously tender to the touch. The thought that anything, anyone would dare cause her pain made his blood boil. “What’s his name?”

Tionne pulled her shirt back into place and turned to face him. “Misha, it was an accident. He was very sorry.”

Not as sorry as he was going to be. “Are you going to tell me his name or not?”

“No.”

“Fine.” He’d get it another way. “Put some shoes on. I’m taking you to the doctor.”

Tionne was shaking her head no even before he got the last word out. “It’s a scratch. I’m okay.”

“Let a doctor tell me that.”

“I’m telling you that,” she reaffirmed mulishly.

“Not good enough.”

“It’ll have to be, because the only place I’m going is bed. I’ve had a long night, and I’m tired.”

Misha was tempted to just toss her over his shoulder and force her from the room, but he knew she’d fight him the entire way. And although he never shied away from a good fight, he was reluctant to push the matter since she was injured, out of fear of harming her further. “You frustrate me.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

Tionne went to move away, but Misha reached out and grabbed her arm. “Come here,” he said softly as he pulled her gently toward him.

For the first time tonight, Tionne didn’t fight him. She allowed him to pull her to his lap. Instead of sitting stiffly as he thought she would, she leaned back against him. “No,” he said, instantly pulling his chest away from her back as he pressed against the couch. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Being with you could never hurt me.”

“Your back,” he protested.

“Oh shut up and just hold me for a minute. I always feel the safest when I’m with you.”

“That’s because you are safe.” Misha stopped fighting her and wrapped his arms loosely around her waist. “I can’t believe you just told me to shut up.”

She rested her head next to his and laughed lightly. “I can’t believe you listened.”

Neither could he. “Don’t get used to it. I’m only being kind because of your back.”

“Then I’m going to milk this for as long as I can.”

“You can milk it all the way to the hospital if you like.”

“No.” She shook her head, knocking hers against his in the process. “No hospitals.”

Misha let out a frustrated sigh. He was a man who could make others quake in their shoes with just one look, yet he couldn’t convince a mere slip of a girl to go see a doctor. He was losing his touch. “You know, there was a time when you minded me.”

She laughed. “I never minded you. I was just better at not getting caught.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” he said drily.

“Wasn’t supposed to, but you love me just the same.”

Even though her words were spoken with a hint of jest, they struck a little too close to the truth, for he did love her. Deeper and darker than he should. The feelings he had for her weren’t just borderline wrong, they were completely wrong. She was his ward. The only feelings he was supposed to have for her were of a familial variety, but they weren’t.

“I could go to sleep just like this.”

Misha could think of worse ways to end the night. “Then do it.”

“No way. I must be crushing your legs.”

“Please, you hardly weigh anything.”

“That’s not true.” Tionne sat up and stretched. The motion moved the thin strap of her shirt to the side, drawing his attention to the ink etched into her dark brown flesh.

Without asking for permission, he pushed her bra strap off her shoulder and out of the way, so that her tattoo was in plain sight. “I still can’t believe you got this silly thing.”

“My body, my choice.” She defended as she always did whenever he teased her about the tattoo.

“That’s why you hid it from me for a year,” he teased.

“I didn’t hide it. I just purposely chose not to show it to you. It’s not the same thing.”

“Right.” He traced the cursive font lightly with his fingertip. “Tell me again, what does the M stand for.”

“Magnificent.”

He chuckled at her bald-faced lie. “You do realize that every time I ask you this question, you give me a different answer.”

Tionne glanced over her shoulder at him and cocked a brow. “Then why do you keep asking?”

“Because I’m hoping one day you’ll tell me the truth. Will you?”

“Maybe.” She pushed her bra strap back in place and stood. “Someday.”

“I’ll be sure to mark that on my calendar.”

Before she could reply, Nicholi walked back into the room. “All done out here?” he asked.

“Oh please,” Tionne teased. “Don’t pretend as if you didn’t wait until the yelling stopped before you came out.”

“What can I say? I hate to see a grown man cry.”

Tionne laughed, and Misha just shot his cousin a look that let Nicholi know he’d suffer for the comment later.

“Are you sure—”

Before Misha could continue, Tionne cut him off. “Yes, I’m fine. I promise you. In fact, I’m tired and ready for bed. So, if you boys are done delaying my beauty sleep, I’m going to hit the sack.”

“All right, little one, we’ll leave. But don’t think this conversation is necessarily over.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course not.” She kissed Nicholi on the cheek, and even though he knew it was in no way sexual, Misha fought back a bite of jealousy. Then she turned to him to give him the same gesture. In a way, it grated on his nerves that she treated him the same way she did his cousin, but he allowed it, because it was what it should be.

Misha said not a word until they stepped into the elevator, and even then he waited until the doors shut. “Tell me.”

“Got him. I looked at the numbers on the call history on her cell phone. There was one from a Troy, no last name. I had our IT guys research the number, and we hit pay dirt. The owner of the phone abides at the address Tionne was picked up at.”

The beauty of technology. “Perfect.”

“Maybe not. He’s also an employee. He works in her department.”

That was the least of Misha’s worries. “Not any longer.” The last thing Tionne needed to do was to see that bastard every day.

“I take it we’re going to make a surprise visit.”

It was a question that didn’t even bear asking. “Yes, but first we’re making a stop.”

“Where?” Nicholi frowned.

“Some place where I can pick up a very sharp nail.”

* * * *

The aroma of coffee was so thick that for a moment it actually entered Tionne’s dreams. It pulled her out of a sound sleep and away from a very intense and erotic dream. Since she hadn’t set her coffeemaker the night before, Tionne knew there was only one reason for the heady scent, and his name was Misha.

Blurry eyed and still so very turned on, Tionne glanced over at her clock on her nightstand, then shook her head. It was only a little after seven. There hadn’t been a doubt in her mind he was going to show up again today. She just hadn’t expected it to be so early, or for it to be on the heel of such a wicked and delightful dream.

With a heavy sigh, she lay back down on her side and stared at her bedroom door. What was she going to do with him? Any semblance of privacy she’d had walked out the door with him last night. He’d shifted into overprotective mode, and it was going to be hell to get him back to saner ground. Not that he’d ever been that sane to begin with.

By the smell of things, the coffee was almost done, which left her two options. She could either go out there and begin her day as she normally would, or she could take a few minutes to give herself the relief she so desperately needed. Desperation won out.

Tionne slipped her hand under the covers and down to her mound. She kept her pubic hair trimmed close, so it was easy to slip her fingers past her barely there hair and part her nether lips. She watched the door closely as she began to lightly stroke her clit in circular motions, pausing to squeeze the hardening bud between her fingers every now and then just to add to her pleasure.

She bit back a moan as she sped up her fingers. Tionne was trying her best to be quiet, but she was too used to being alone when she came to have mastered that skill just yet. Sure, part of her wanted him to walk in and find her masturbating, but at the same time, she knew some things were better left in the fantasy zone.