Red Handed (26 page)

“Fuck you, Rinaldi,” Agent Ryan said, pulling him toward the door. “There's nothing that would ever get me to apologize to a thug like you.”

Rinaldi bared his teeth like a wild animal. “We'll see.”

“Hey, I'm innocent in all this,” Michael protested as another agent led him away. “He made me do it. Took my sister, Lynette. Said he'd give her back if I helped kidnap Danielle.” He looked over his shoulder at Rinaldi. “Well, I did it. Now where is she?”

Rinaldi pursed his lips as if he was thinking. “Lynette . . . Lynette. Oh yes, I remember her.” He shook his head. “Nasty heroin addict, if I recall. Poor thing probably OD'd. I bet if you made your way to the county morgue, you'd find her. The morgue is filled with unidentified bodies. At least she died doing what she loved best.” He grinned, his face turning into nothing but gleaming white teeth. “Well, second best.”

Michael's face paled. “You son of a bitch.” He looked at Danielle. “I swear, I never would've hurt you. I was only trying to get you to work faster at getting that bank account information. You have to understand. He has . . . ” Michael hung his head to his chest. “Had my sister. I just wanted to get her back.” His eyes burned with rage at Rinaldi. “I don't care if I have to spend the rest of my life behind bars. I'm going to testify and make sure you get what's coming to you.”

“Don't worry,” Rinaldi said. “You won't have to spend very long in jail. I look out for my people.” Danielle shivered at the deadly promise of his words. Rinaldi's gaze narrowed on Cole. “DeMarco, we're not finished.”

Cole puffed out his chest as he got into the mobster's face. “I think it's safe to say your membership has been revoked, and if you ever step foot on my property, I'll have you arrested.”

Rinaldi smirked. “We'll see, DeMarco.”

It was as if the moment Rinaldi stepped out of the cabin, the oxygen in the room was restored, and Danielle could breathe again. Only a minute had passed since the FBI had first arrived, and yet it felt as though it had been a lifetime. A few police officers came through the door along with a team of EMTs.

Her eyes locked with Cole's, and everything else disappeared.

A couple agents kneeled behind her and Tasha and began to cut the ropes.

Cole cupped her face between his hands, inspecting her cheek. “Are you okay? When I realized he'd hit you . . . ”

She didn't care about her face. She just wanted them to get the damned restraints off her so she could return to Cole's arms. “It hurts, but I'll be fine. You gave me a sweater with a GPS tracker sewn inside. Very clever.”

He shrugged and smiled. “I told you I have faith in science.”

Science had certainly saved her life tonight. She jutted her chin toward her stepmother. “Tasha needs medical attention.”

A female EMT crouched by Tasha. “Ma'am, we're going to take you to the hospital and have you checked out. Is there anyone we can call?”

“My son, Roman,” Tasha whispered, “but he's in Russia.” Tears flowed down Tasha's face as she too gained freedom from the ropes. She turned to Danielle. “It's all over now, darling. We'll go back to Arizona and put this whole disaster behind us.”

The rope fell away from Danielle's legs, and she sighed, flexing and pointing her feet. “Did you know about the money?” she asked Tasha.

Tasha winced as the female EMT helped her to her feet. “No, I had no idea. Your father told me were broke. We've been living off his life insurance policy, but it's almost gone now. Roman has been helping with the bills. Maybe it's time to sell the house and move into a small condo.”

Danielle tried to stand, the room spinning and the floor tilting under her feet. “I'm going to go with her in the ambulance.”

Cole caught her, snaking his arm around her waist. “Tomorrow morning she'll be there,” he said to Tasha. “Right now, I want to get her home so she can rest.”

Her heart fluttered at his reference to home. Where was her home now?

The danger was over. Once they gave their statements to the FBI and Tasha was released from the hospital, there was nothing to keep her from returning to Arizona.

She rested her cheek against Cole's chest, inhaling the soothing leather scent of his coat, comforted by his warmth. They were living on borrowed time, the clock ticking down to the moment when they'd each have to choose what they couldn't live without.

She only wished she knew what that was.

Chapter Thirty

T
HE SUNLIGHT STREAMED
through the window, stirring Danielle from her sleep. She sighed into the pillow and burrowed in closer to the man behind her, relishing the experience of waking up in his arms.

After they'd given their statements to the FBI, she'd fallen asleep on Cole in the backseat of the car as Adrian drove them home. The next thing she knew, they were in Cole's bed, naked under the covers, limbs entwined as if they were one. She wasn't sure who had turned to who first, but within moments, he'd been inside her, driving her to the brink of ecstasy over and over before finally pushing her off the edge and tumbling down the cliff along with her, his body shuddering and trembling before they both collapsed into a deep slumber.

She'd guess by the sun's position in the sky that it was probably early afternoon. Cole's arms were wrapped around her waist and his leg thrown over hers, his solid chest cradling her back and his erection nudging between the cheeks of her ass. She pushed back, eliciting a groan from him.

She wanted to ignore the reality waiting for them outside his bedroom and spend the day making love here in this room, where they could pretend nothing else existed but the two of them and that reality wasn't ready to tear them apart at their fragile seams.

“Good afternoon,” he said, grinding against her backside and tweaking her nipple between his fingers.

After last night, she thought she'd be sated, but her pussy moistened and her clitoris throbbed. “It is now.”

He rolled her onto her stomach, his weight pinning her to the bed, and tugged her arms behind her back. Holding her wrists with one hand, he notched his cock to her entrance and pushed inside. She was trapped, unable to move, and there was nowhere she'd rather be. Funny how providing consent to bondage changed the way her mind and body reacted to it.

With shallow pumps, Cole moved his cock in and out of her pussy, the position limiting its depth. She clenched her vaginal muscles as if she could trap him as well. As if she could suck him deeper inside her and keep him there, becoming one, never to be separate again. The slow and steady rocking of their bodies rubbed her clitoris on the sheet, throwing her into a state of fevered desperation, her core tightening as heat built into a blazing inferno, and she toppled into climax, taking him with her, his hot essence dripping down her inner thigh. He lifted his weight off her body, dragging her with him and her in the crook of his arm.

She watched his chest rise and fall with his breaths and traced his tattoo with her fingertip. “What happens now?”

“I was thinking of taking a shower.” He kissed her forehead. “Taking
you
in the shower. Lunch followed by a visit to the hospital to check on Tasha. Then—”

“I mean with us.” A lump lodged in her throat. “It's all over. Once they release Tasha from the hospital, I can go back to Arizona.”

He tipped up her chin, his eyes laced with breathless intensity. “Is that what you want?”

She had nothing for her out there. But what choice did she have? “I can't stay here. This isn't who I am.”

A muscle jumped in his cheek. “Maybe it wasn't a week ago, but you can't tell me you don't belong here.”

Did she belong anywhere? She felt as though she was caught between two worlds, with one foot in each, belonging to neither. Could she leave Roman and Tasha? “And what would I do?”

“Whatever you wanted. Open your own art gallery. Make your dreams come true. Stay here with me at Benediction.”

What were her dreams? Only one came to mind.

Cole.

She searched his eyes, seeing her reflection, and realized she dreamed the impossible. Nothing had changed. His fear of going blind, of losing control, of depending on someone he loved, continued to drive a wedge between them. She accepted his lifestyle. Accepted his need to give back to the community that had saved him when he'd hit rock bottom. But what she couldn't accept was being the only one to make sacrifices.

“I want to say yes, but I want to get married and have kids someday. If I stayed and things worked out between us, would that be something in our future?”

Storm clouds gathered in his eyes, darkening his expression as he braced her face in his palms. “No. I just can't commit to you like that. I love you too much to turn you into my nursemaid, Danielle. I love you more than I thought I could ever love anyone. I don't want you to go, but I can't give you what you want.”

He loved her.

And she loved him. Loved him enough to walk away from him, knowing that conceding to his limitations would mean a lifetime of unhappiness for them both. Unable to return his words of love, she blinked back the threatening tears and dug inside herself for strength. “I don't want to go, but I want it all. It wouldn't be enough for me to be one of your slaves. I want marriage. I want your children. It would be different if you couldn't have them, but this is your choice, and I can't stay knowing I don't have all of you.”

He flinched. His throat worked over a swallow as he trailed his fingers down her face as if memorizing it. “You have every part of me there is to give. I'm sorry I can't give you more. You deserve more.”

She inhaled, sealing the pain deep inside where he couldn't see it. “Yes, I do. And so do you. Will you at least give me a chance tonight to change your mind?”

He nodded. “I'd give you a dozen chances.” He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the silver box. “This was your mother's. Your father wanted me to give it to you.”

Her heart ached, and a tear escaped her eye.

“Thank you for keeping it safe.” She kissed him lightly on the mouth and tore herself away before she changed her mind and promised to stay forever.

After she dressed, she left Cole's and returned to her room to pack the few things she had brought as well as her mother's box. Before she got ready for the club, she called Tasha, who had been discharged from the hospital and was spending the night at a hotel.

She and Cole had one final night together. One night left to convince the other they were making the wrong choice. Tonight she had a few lessons to teach her voyeuristic lover. She may walk out of his life tomorrow, but she'd hopefully leave him with the idea that there was more to voyeurism than the visual.

Gracie helped Danielle set up everything she needed, then sent word to Cole to meet Danielle in the kitchen.

Wearing a silver beaded corset and matching panties with enough bling to see from outer space, she greeted him as he stepped into the kitchen. “Welcome to the grand opening of Café DeMarco. I'm Danielle, and I'll be your slave for the evening. Please have a seat.” His gaze ate her up as he climbed into one of the tall chairs situated at the island. “I've prepared a special feast for you.”

“I hope you're part of that feast.”

She leaned on him, pressing her breasts into his arm, and whispered in his ear. “If you play your cards right, you can eat me all night long.” At his shudder, she pulled away. His breathing quickened, and he made a low rumble deep in his throat.

She nabbed the black scarf she'd left dangling off the other chair and twisted it around both her wrists, stretching the fabric taut. “Tonight, Master, I'd like you to use your other senses. Do you consent?”

Nervously biting her lip, she held her breath. The skin around his eyes and lips crinkled as he weighed the decision of turning over that little bit of power and control to her.

“Yes,” he said, his voice raspy. “I consent.”

She draped the scarf over his eyes and tied a knot in the back. Her nipples hardened into tight peaks at the sight of him blindfolded, his rosy lips slightly parted and the flutter of his pulse evident in his neck.

Glancing at his lap, she was encouraged by the impressive bulge tenting his pants. The loss of his vision hadn't tampered his arousal. If anything, it had enhanced it.

That was a good sign. Wasn't it?

She snagged the bottle off the marble island, popped the cork, and poured a single glass of wine. “You must be thirsty. I took a tour of your wine cellar. Would you care for a sip?”

His mouth quirked up at the corners. “Yes, I believe I would.”

She dipped her index finger into the Bordeaux and painted his lips with it. “Do you recognize the vintage?”

His tongue snaked out and licked a complete circle around his mouth, leaving his rosy lips glistening. “I'll need a little more to ascertain that.”

She tipped the wine glass between her lips, allowing it to pool in her mouth before slanting her lips over his to share it. He growled, tangling his fingers in her hair and pushing her head closer, tightening the seal of their mouths. Their tongues glided and danced as he sampled the wine, his dizzying kiss more potent than any alcohol she'd consumed. Panting, they broke apart.

“What did you taste?” she whispered, resting her forehead on his.

He licked his lips. “Black cherry. Vanilla. Plum.” He paused and smiled. “You.”

Unable to stop herself, she trailed soft kisses down the side of his face before lifting the glass under their noses and swirling the wine around, releasing its essence. “What do you smell?”

“Truffle. A hint of tobacco.” He buried his nose in her neck. “You.”

She raised the glass to his lips. “Drink.” His hand covered hers and together they tilted the glass to his lips. “What does it feel like in your mouth?”