Masters at Arms (24 page)

“Is it okay if I leave my bags in the
entryway for now?”

“Sure. They’ll be safe there. I’ll be locking
up after I take you to Master Adam’s office.”

As they started toward the hallway where Adam
had disappeared, Master Damián discussed what was expected of her
as far as a new wardrobe.

Oh, dear. “I’m sorry, but I…I don’t have any
money for new clothes yet. Would it be okay if I wore my dresses
from the Soho club until I get a couple paychecks under my
belt?”

“Talk to Master Adam. He’ll probably advance
you some money for appropriate clothing. Where are you
staying?”

She bit her lower lip. “I’m going to find a
motel when I leave here.”

“I think we can do better than that.”

Karla wasn’t sure what he meant, but by then
they’d arrived at Adam’s office. She preceded Damián into the
office and saw Adam seated at a large walnut desk, staring intently
at some paperwork before him. He dominated the room, which was
decorated in dark wood and black leather. When she hesitated,
Master Damián took her elbow and led her to one of the leather
chairs in front of the desk. But she chose to remain standing.
Looking down at Adam gave her a sense of power she needed to feel
right now. She wouldn’t stay if he didn’t want her here.

“Sir, Karla’s just gotten to town and doesn’t
have a place to stay. She’ll need one of the rooms upstairs.”

Sir. Had Master Damián served with Adam in
the Marines? He certainly had the body and stature of a Marine.
Then Karla noticed Adam’s hand had tightened on the pen he
held.

Adam doesn’t want you here.

She blinked rapidly and swallowed past the
lump in her throat.
Don’t let him see you cry.
Taking a deep
breath, she squared her shoulders and rose to her full height. She
still only reached to Master Damián’s chin. The man intimidated the
hell out of her, but she needed to stand up for herself and stop
being led around by him as if she were a puppy.

“That won’t be necessary. I’m staying at a
motel.”

Adam looked up at her, his piercing green
eyes short-circuiting her bravado. “Nonsense. You’ll stay here.”
His gaze sent a thrill down her spine at the same time as it caused
her heart to come to a halt. She’d yearned to see Adam again for so
long. Now that she was here, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to run
to his arms, or run out the door.

To Damián, he said, “Take her things to the
guest room on the east end of the house.”

Master Damián chuckled. She wondered what was
so funny, but couldn’t ask. What had she gotten herself into? Live
here with Adam? That was just wrong on so many levels. She just
wanted to crawl back to New York and forget about this whole
hare-brained idea. When Master Damián left, she remained standing
as Adam stared up at her as if he didn’t have a clue how to deal
with her.

“I was worried about you.” His voice came out
in a husky whisper that washed over her as if he’d gently stroked a
finger down her bare arm.

Of all the things she thought she’d hear him
say after the scene in the bar room, that was the last she
expected. Karla blinked away more tears, her bravado evaporating
quickly. She’d expected him to continue to be all businesslike and
distant, not so…caring.

Her tearfulness reminded her of the time
she’d wrecked the family car when she was eighteen. She’d been fine
until her dad had asked if she were okay.

“Are you okay?” Adam asked, concern in his
voice.

The same question. Now all the emotions she’d
tried to bury the last two months resurfaced. She began shaking,
unable to form a coherent response. She steadied herself with a
hand against the back of the chair. Tears blurred her vision. Then
she felt Adam’s strong arms surrounding her, holding her up.

Safe
.
Adam.

She took in a ragged gasp of air, then a
wrenching sob poured from deep inside her chest.

“Shhhh. It’s going to be okay.” He turned her
around and pressed her against his rock-hard chest and his hands
stroked her hair. She felt his heart beating against her cheek as
she wrapped her arms around his back, holding on as if he were a
lifeline. She wept grief-stricken tears mixed with tears of joy to
be holding Adam once again.

She’d tried for two months to remain strong
for her parents’ sakes at the funeral and to make sure everything
was beautiful for Ian’s funeral. Then she’d tried to continue to
tamp down her emotions and grief so she could return to New York
and function again.

Fail
.

“What’s happened, Karla?

She shook her head, not wanting to put into
words what she still didn’t want to acknowledge. The tears she
couldn’t dam up any longer spilled onto his chest.
Oh, no!
She pulled away and saw the blackened spots on his white shirt.

She reached out to touch the stains as more
tears spilled. “I’m sorry, Adam.”

He cupped her cheek in his hands and tilted
her head back until she saw his face swimming before her eyes.
“It’s just a f…god-damned shirt. Karla. Tell me what’s wrong. Come.
Sit with me.”

He led her over to a black leather loveseat
she hadn’t noticed before. He sat down and, rather than have her
sit beside him, pulled her onto his lap. She’d fantasized about
being held by him like this, but he was her new boss, wasn’t he?
Totally inappropriate.

Adam. Her friend. He knew everything about
her. Over the years, in her letters, she’d shared more with him
than she had with Ian, her parents, or her girlfriends.

He’d saved her once. She so needed saving
again. But she was too broken this time for anyone to save her.

* * *

Adam hadn’t felt this helpless since he’d
watched Joni dying, except maybe for Fallujah and its aftermath.
Something tragic had happened to Karla. He needed to know what, so
he could make it better. Nothing rotted his gut more than feeling
so fucking helpless.

“Are your parents all right?”

She nodded, but kept her gaze on her lap.
Thank God. Jenny and Carl had taken him in that Thanksgiving
morning and treated him like, well, a brother. He’d feared perhaps
something had happened to one of them.

Then, was it Ian? No, her brother’s
deployment had ended a while back. Adam knew he’d made it home
safely from Iraq. But they were redeploying units so fast these
days. Had he gotten hurt?

“Ian?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and wrapped her
arms over her stomach, holding herself as she tried to curl over
into a ball as if to contain the pain. She nodded her head, and a
mournful sob escaped her lips.

Oh, God no. Not her brother
.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her
against his chest. He held her as she sobbed. She adored her older
brother more than anyone in the world. He’d seen that in her
letters as she’d bragged about his commendations and
activities.

“Tell me what happened.”

He didn’t want to hear the words, but knew
she needed to speak them, just as talking about his nightmares had
helped Damián. Again, she shook her head. The scent of her citrus-y
shampoo drifted to his nose. Adam brought his hand up and held her
head closer to his chest. He stroked her face. Her hair. Her face.
Her skin. So soft. She felt so right in his arms—and that was so
fucking wrong.

God, she was so young.

So hurting.
He’d never been able to
resist reaching out to help a lost soul.

“Karla, tell me what’s happened to Ian.”

He knew the sooner she got the story out, the
sooner she’d be able to begin to function again. To heal. Whatever
had happened, she’d already kept it bottled up way too long. She
gasped for air, trying to control her sobs.

“Take a deep, slow breath, Karla.” She did as
he told her. At least he knew she could hear him. She hiccoughed
and he felt his gut clench—and parts south tighten. “Again.” He
needed to keep his mind off how nice it felt having her curled up
in his lap. If she didn’t spill the story soon, he would embarrass
himself—and probably scare the hell out of her.

“Tell me. Now, Karla.” He didn’t mean to
sound so gruff, but it was all he could do to maintain control over
his wayward dick.

As if a dam had burst, the words spilled out
in a jumble, with sobs obliterating most of the details in the
story. But he managed to get the gist of it.

Motorcycle. Rain. Semi.

Ian’s dead.

Dead.

“Oh, God, no, Karla.” Adam held her tighter,
resting his chin on the top of her head, trying to envelop her in
warmth and safety. “I’m so sorry.” He ached for Karla and her
parents. When tears burned his own eyes, he let them flow, knowing
she couldn’t see them. He cried for Ian, who hadn’t been given a
chance to live. He cried for Jenny and Carl, who had to be caught
up in a living hell right now. He even cried for Joni, who he
hadn’t been able to cry for since that Thanksgiving morning in 2002
at Lake Michigan.

But mostly he cried for Karla. She didn’t
deserve this. Her world was supposed to be happy. Innocent. Full of
hope. He wished he hadn’t ignored his instincts. He knew something
was wrong and should have gotten in touch with her sooner.

He didn’t know how long she continued to sob,
then her body suddenly went limp, sinking against him. Her weight
felt good against him. She’d surrendered the last of her defenses.
Thank God she’d come to him. Someone else might take advantage of
her vulnerability.

While he and Karla had spent only a couple of
days together face to face, they’d forged a deeper connection that
spanned nearly a decade. She’d pulled him back from the brink when
he’d thought there was nothing left for him in this world. Her
letters over the years were honest, as if she were sitting right
there at his feet telling him about her day.

No, don’t think about her sitting gracefully
at your feet.

Her letters had told of her life, her dreams,
her world. He knew her better than he’d known any woman other than
Joni.

Something or someone had brought them
together again. He’d taken care of Karla once before. He’d take
care of her this time, too. And he’d refuse to give in to the baser
thoughts running rampant through his mind since he’d watched her
performing on the club’s stage a little while ago.

When her weight relaxed against him even
more, he knew she’d fallen into a deep sleep. He held her a bit
longer, stroking her arm, shushing her when her body convulsed with
a shudder. Then he stood and carried her out the door into the
hallway. They passed the theme rooms. Thank God she slept, although
he knew she’d find them eventually, if she’d be working here.

Christ.

Damián came out of the medical theme room. He
raised an eyebrow at seeing her curled up in his arms.
No, this
isn’t that kind of aftercare
.

The man he thought of as his son grinned and
looked up at him, a question in his eyes. Adam wasn’t ready to
explain his relationship to Karla. He told himself it was because
he didn’t want to wake her by speaking. In truth, though, he didn’t
know how to explain her to Damián. He knew what their relationship
had been before today. But how could he explain his feelings now
without sounding like a fucked-up pervert?

“Go back upstairs and move her things to your
old room.” He kept that one made up, in case Damián ever needed it.
His son’s grin widened. He thought he knew the reason for moving
her so close to Adam’s own bedroom, when Adam had intended
originally for her to be as far away from him as possible.

“I need to keep an eye on her.”

“Sure. Let me know if I can help…Dad.”

Why had Damián chosen now, of all times, to
remind him he was so fucking old? Hell, his surrogate son was only
a couple years older than Karla. Maybe he should encourage them to
get together. They both needed someone right now.

The thought of Karla being with Damián or any
other man at the club rotted his gut, though. He carried her up the
stairs. As he walked into the room where Damián had fought his
demons all those years ago, he hoped Karla’s struggles would be
much less. But in here, he’d be able to keep a close eye on her,
just until she was ready to venture out and find a place to stay on
her own.

* * *

Adam sat in the corner of her room and
watched Karla sleep. He hadn’t wanted to scare her by removing her
clothing, but had taken off her slippers and pulled a blanket over
her. The thick black curls fanning out over the blue pillowcase
sent his thoughts careening down dangerous paths yet again.

Demons flitted across her face a few times,
but whenever he’d stand to go to her to fight them off, she’d
become peaceful again and fall back into a deeper, more restful
sleep. She couldn’t possibly be aware he was here, could she? He’d
never admit he’d watched over her like this either. She’d think he
was some kind of perv. But he was worried about her and she might
not be as vocal as Damián had been when he’d battled his demons in
that bed. Hopefully, she’d remain sleeping when he left her here
alone.

Her black eyelashes flickered. Adam tensed.
She moaned in her sleep and he was ready to go to her, to hold her
until the nightmare ended. Then she sighed and returned once more
to a deeper sleep.

Obviously, she hadn’t slept for a very, very
long time. When had Ian been killed? Her last letter was two months
ago and didn’t hint that anything was out of the ordinary. He
probably should call Jenny and Carl and offer his condolences. Let
them know Karla was with him. Safe.

Safe? Yeah, right. “Oh, don’t worry, Carl.
Your daughter’s fine. She’s performing at my sex club—oh, musical
performances only. Nothing to worry yourself about. She’s
fine.”

Just fine.

Thoughts of her performing in other ways at
the club flicked over his mind. Shit. No way would she be engaging
in any activities other than singing as long as he had anything to
say about it. He doubted she’d even be interested in BDSM. And, if
she were, she’d probably lean more toward the Domme side, given the
way she’d managed to order him in the head at the bus station.