Spoken For (12 page)

27

I WAKE UP disorientated, in an unfamiliar room that is a blissful ensemble of comfort and luxury and warmed with rich autumn tones. Sunlight slides through a crack in the drapes and I jerk upright, instantly aware of how late it must be.

Memories of last night flood back, constricting my chest, racing through my blood.

The man. The gun. The attempted kidnapping, I realise now. What else could it be?

And more. Roman wrapping me close, sitting me down in the kitchen while he made me a cup of Chamomile tea and hand-fed me nibbles of a sandwich. Bringing me up here, running me a bath, leaving the door open but waiting patiently out here while I soaked.

I glance down to see I’m wearing an oversized tee. No panties. I vaguely recall him popping into the bathroom, suggesting I don’t stay in too long, placing the folded tee on the basin countertop.

A different kind of horror assails me.

God!
I suppose I was in shock last night, but it still scares me, how easily I stepped back into his life, allowed him to take care of me.

How safe I felt.

How right I felt.

How easily I’d let him tuck me into bed and press a kiss to my forehead as my eyelids fluttered shut into deep, instant sleep… No way! I’d zoned out last night, yes, and much of everything was still a blur, but that doesn’t seem right. I remember my bones growing heavy in the bathtub, and maybe soaking into the hot water had drained me, but it feels off. Did Roman put something in my tea? Something to help me sleep?

The more I think of it, the more certain I am.

I fling the covers aside and climb out of bed. I’m wondering what the hell I do now, I can’t exactly go downstairs dressed like this, when I see the small stack of my clothes on the armoire. Freshly laundered and neatly folded.

In the bathroom, I find a new toothbrush and everything else I could possibly need.

Once I’m done, I march out into a wide passage, choose a direction and keep going. From my brief glimpse of the house yesterday, I know it’s a single storey, and it seems to ramble on and on until I finally run into someone.

The woman is middle-aged, well-padded around the hips and in the cheeks. Her brown hair is short, feathered over her soft face. She doesn’t smile, but her eyes are kind as she introduces herself.

“I’m Mrs. Lowellyn, the housekeeper here,” she says. “And you must be our guest, Ms. Lynch. Would you like some breakfast?”

My stomach growls, but I’m too wired to eat. “Actually, I was looking for Mr. Rocchi. Is he around?”

“Yes, of course.” She starts walking, indicating for me to follow. “He asked me to bring you to his study when you were ready.”

I swear we walk for at least ten minutes through the sprawling house. Some parts are sheer glass, overlooking courtyards or forest glades, a pond, rolling lawns…and finally Mrs. Lowellyn stops in front of a door, raps hard and then pushes it open.

“You asked to see Ms. Lynch?”

Over her shoulder, I see Roman rising to his feet and come around from behind the desk.

“Thank you, Mrs. Lowellyn. Would you please bring us a pot of coffee?”

“Of course, Mr. Rocchi.” She retreats from the doorway, leaving me to enter on my own.

“Did you sleep well?” Roman says as he reaches me and presses the door closed.

His eyes are stone-baked with warmth as he looks at me, but there’s a strain at the edges I can’t miss. His arm brushes mine and I don’t step back. If anything, I sway a little closer.

“Do you need to ask?” I snap, thoroughly unamused at how my body pulls toward him. “You drugged me!”

“A mild herbal sedative to soothe your nerves, Keegan.” He waves me into a chair, then returns to his seat behind the desk. “It only knocked you out because you were already emotionally and physically exhausted.”

His suit is dark, exquisitely cut, as always. His shirt a crisp white. His tie a pale silk blue. The tie reminds me of last night, of how Bold trussed that man up and dumped him in the trunk.

“What’s going on, Roman?” I sigh as I sink into the chair across from him.

“I’m sorry for what happened.” He rests his elbows on the desk and steeples his fingers, his eyes absorbing me.

Desire threads low in my abdomen at the sudden, unbidden thought of how those fingers had strummed my body, taken me to heights of pleasure I’d never imagined possible.

“That man was after me,” Roman goes on. “He wanted to use you to get to me.”

“But how…” I rattle loose my heated thoughts and start again “But how would he even know about me?”

“Scotland,” Roman says. “He’s an old enemy, unfortunately, one I wasn’t expecting to resurface. When he did, I assumed you’d be better off away from me, but that’s no longer the case.”

“Wait a minute…” I shake my head slowly as I digest the full impact of what he’s saying. “You learnt that this…this enemy had resurfaced while we were in Scotland? Is that what was happening in the library that day with you and Connor and Bold?”

“I’m afraid so.”

So, Bold had brought more news than simply the status update on the Lamborghini. And that’s why Roman sent me away so abruptly. To protect me.

I look at him, waiting for the relief to hit me. He hadn’t tossed me out like leftover rubbish. But all I have is rising anger. “You should have said something.”

“The less you know, the better, Keegan.”

“You had Bold follow me.”

“I couldn’t take any chances.”

“What about the man?” I say. “Who he is? Where’s he now?”

“He’s been dealt with, Keegan,” Roman says flatly. “You needn’t concern yourself with the details.”

“The less I know, the better, right?”

“Right.”

“Bullshit.”

“Not in this instance.” He leans back, his forearms flat on the table. “The less you know, the safer you are.”

“You left me feeling like shit!” I stand, glaring at him. “You
assumed
, and just went along with that.”

Whatever his reasons, he
had
cast me aside. If not for the attempted kidnapping, I probably would never have seen Roman again. I would never have known any better.

“Sit,” he issues, a definite order. “Please.”

I almost buckle under the command. His lips are set in a stern line, the concern on his face dominated by the greater, more intense expression of absolute authority. But we’re not in the bedroom and this has nothing to do with sex and desire

Before I can refuse, Mrs. Lowellyn returns with a tray of coffee and a spread of toast and jams.

I glance at the door, ready to bolt, but I’m still at Roman’s mercy. I have no idea what happened to my handbag. It’s probably lying in the side street. Or worse, picked clean and tossed into a dumpster.

When we’re alone again, Roman shoves a hand through his hair, the strain at his eyes deepening. “Keegan, please sit.”

“No, I’m done,” I say. “I need to get home.”

“You’re staying here, where I can keep you safe.”

“I’ll be fine!”

“I wasn’t giving you a choice, Keegan.”

What the fuck?

My eyes skim the study. Wood-panelled walls. Bookshelves. Roman’s desk which is completely clear. There’s not even a computer.

“Can I use your phone?” I ask.

“We have no landlines here.”

I give him a pointed look. “Any phone will do. I need to call Liam. He’ll be worried sick that I didn’t—”

“Liam’s been informed that you’re with me,” Roman says.

“Oh, okay, thanks,” I grumble, reluctant to show the gratitude I am feeling. “Still, he won’t be happy until he hears from me, personally.”

“He already has.” Roman pulls open a drawer and brings out my handbag. “Bold saved this for you. I took the liberty of texting Liam from your phone.”

I grab my bag and drop back into the chair. His words sink in only once I’m groping through the contents and don’t find my phone.

I hold my hand out. “Where is it?”

Another drawer opens and he pulls out my phone. He doesn’t give it over, though. He opens up the messaging hub and holds the screen up for me to read.

Ran into Roman

Spndn night

Speak tmorrow

A chill creeps over me. He didn’t just use my phone, he used my style of texting. The screen, of course, shows the last five messages I sent, all to Liam. It’s right there for Roman to see at a glance, but still, he deliberately imitated my previous texts, making it appear as if I’d sent it.

“I’d like my phone,” I say coldly. “Liam will want to hear my voice.”

Roman slides my phone back into the drawer and shoves it closed. “That’s not true, Keegan. I went through your call history. You seldom call anyone, Liam even less. You prefer to text.”

“You went through my call his-s-story?” I splutter. “Are you crazy? How dare you invade my privacy like that?”

I’m out of my chair again, shaking from the anger seething through me.

“I wish I hadn’t needed to, believe me.” His jaw clenches into a grimace. “But I can’t have Liam stirring up a noise and I don’t want him involved. I didn’t want
you
involved, Keegan. I realise you find this situation intolerable, and if there was another way, any other goddamn way, I’d take it. For now, please understand that I can’t let you leave and I can’t allow you to contact anyone.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because phones can be bugged, locations traced, and even if you don’t mean to, you’ll spill something to someone,” Roman says, his voice gravel hard. “No one can know you’re here. It’s only for a couple of weeks.”

“Weeks?” I gasp.

“Three at the most, while I get to the bottom of this mess. Please understand, this is the only way I can keep you safe. I have enemies, Keegan, and they appear to know about you. I won’t allow them to get near you.”

I slap my palms to my cheeks. I can’t… I seriously can’t believe this is happening. “You can’t keep me locked up here, a prisoner, for weeks.”

“I can,” Roman states. “And you won’t be locked up, Keegan. My home has many amenities. Try to relax and you may even enjoy yourself. Think of it as a holiday.”

My eyes widen on him, but as I look into his darkly beautiful face, my knees soften.

Three weeks of Roman Rocchi,
my traitorous body hums.

He’s stamped my blood with his kisses, with his dominant pleasures and wicked intentions. My body remembers, remains in thrall and doesn’t seem to care that he’s violated my privacy and has totally cut me off from the outside world.

I swallow past the thickness coating my throat. “I have to work!”

“I’m your boss.” He cocks a brow at me. “I’ve arranged your extended leave.”

“I don’t have anything with me, not even a change of clothes.”

Of course, that’s not the problem. No, the big fat problem is that the bastard actually thinks he can hold me here against my will. The problem is that my body doesn’t seem to mind and I don’t know how long my head can stay in control around Roman.

“Order what you need online, Keegan. Most places do next-day delivery and I’ll cover all costs, naturally.”

Access to the internet!

“Bold will supervise your time on the laptop,” Roman adds with his uncanny ability to see straight through me.”

“I’m not going to do this,” I hiss. “I’m leaving and you can’t stop me.”

“This property is secured. You can’t leave and, more importantly, no one can get in.”

“I’ll find a way.”

“You won’t,” he says confidently. “And if you do somehow manage, Bold will find and bring you back.”

“Then I’ll run again.”

Roman sighs heavily. “And he’ll bring you back again.”

“Well, I hope you’ve cleared his agenda for the next few weeks,” I spit out. “Because I’m about to keep him very busy.”

“I won’t tolerate you putting yourself into danger,” Roman growls. He pushes to feet, his gaze boring down into me. “If you do anything that foolish, I’ll put you over this damn desk and tan your backside. Believe me, you’ll only try to run once.”

My eyes dip to the desk. Heat steals into my core as I think of the last time he put me over his knee and spanked me.

“This won’t be nearly as pleasurable,” he warns, reading my mind like an open book, “and it certainly won’t end with an orgasm.”

I rip my gaze up from the stupid desk to glower at him. The noise that tears up my throat is a cross between an aggravated bear and a banshee. On that note, I storm out the room and slam the door behind me.

28

BOLD DOGS MY heels as I tramp down the passages with no particular destination in mind.

I’m seething, stewing from the inside out, and it doesn’t help that a part of me realises Roman isn’t just messing around. He’s seriously worried and doing what he thinks is for the best.

But that’s another thing. Who gave him the right to decide how much I’m allowed to know and what’s best for me?

He thinks I’m acting like a child?

Ha!

I’d love to see how Roman Rocchi would act if someone dared to dictate five minutes of his life.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” I mutter to Bold.

“You’re my priority, Ms. Lynch,” he replies smoothly. “The grounds are secured but if anyone does slip through, they won’t get past me.”

“You’ve already caught the man,” I say. “Who else could possibly get to me?”

“No one,” he says bluntly.

I eye him suspiciously. “Because there’s no one trying, or because no one will get past you?”

Instead of answering, he offers to give me a tour of the property. I don’t hesitate to accept. I intend to familiarise myself with every inch of the house and surrounding grounds. It’s not a prison. There has to be a way for me to get out, I just have to find it.

We don’t linger anywhere, but the indoor tour still takes nearly an hour. When Mrs. Lowellyn interrupts with a pot of tea and scones, I mention Roman’s suggestion of online shopping and Bold fetches his laptop.

My hopes of sneaking in a message on any one of Liam’s social networking sites are dashed when Bold pulls up a hardback chair behind the sofa I’ve claimed and practically breathes over my shoulder.

Irritated, I browse for a department store and start shopping. I click on jeans and tees, a jumper, a few pairs of socks, not really paying much attention to the styles, so long as it’s the right size. I think I’m done when I remember underwear. My cheeks heat at the spread of lingerie that fills the page. I can feel Bold’s eyes on the screen as I click on a pair of lacy panties and enter the required quantity.

Again, I think I’m done, but then my gaze falls on a svelte model wearing a white corset and thigh-high stockings held up by red garters. My mind spins into overdrive and I move the mouse over the model, tilt my head ever so slightly toward Bold at my back.

“Do you mind?” I mutter.

“Not at all.”

“I do!” I turn around all the way to glare at him. “I’d like a little privacy to buy personal items.”

Amusement flickers in his obsidian eyes. “Nothing’s private when it comes to the web.”

I fall back around in a huff.

So much for that idea. He really isn’t going to give me a second of space to contact Liam.

I click on the model, hoping his damn eyes bug out, but of course he’s probably lapping up the saucy spread of corsets that push up D-cup breasts and garters that tease perfectly shaped thighs.

The only eyes that bug out are probably mine, when I see the prices. Seriously? I smirk, wondering if the lingerie is autographed by the silkworms that spun the delicate threads.

But then my mind takes it further and I’m imaging the hunger and want glinting silver in Roman’s eyes as he walks in on me covered in nothing but one of those skimpy outfits and that just awakens a beast of fury inside me.

Damn the man!

I click and click and click, filling my basket with thousands of pounds. And Bold says nothing. Not a single mutter. Not an indrawn breath. Is he even looking?

Realising his attention might have wandered, I glance over my shoulder. But no, he’s watching the screen, his mouth curved in a tolerant smile. His gaze slides to me with a cocked brow.

I shoot him a scowl as I turn back to the laptop, but now it’s become a game of revenge. I browse the site and land on a page of fur coats. Not real fur, I hope. They look lush, sleek, and very, very expensive. I gulp at the prices, then add two, a knee-length ermine that would drape my body in soft white and a midriff leather and fur-trimmed slim-fitting jacket. The cost is enough to pay my rent for a couple of years.

Good!

One of the models wears a bikini beneath the fur and I skip ahead to the swimwear section, remembering the indoor pool on our tour. What the hell, I add five bikinis and a couple of silk-woven wraps to my basket.

Still, Bold hasn’t made a sound.

Of course, I suppose Roman will just return everything and get his money back. Especially since I don’t expect to still be here when it’s delivered.