Anything He Wants: The Betrayal (#5) (7 page)

Jeremiah looked around the lobby. “Where’s my mother?” he asked a nearby guard.

“The officials took a brief statement, then said she was free to go, sir.”

The CEO’s lips thinned very briefly, and he sighed. I frowned; I’d hoped for more from the odious woman, but I guessed the habits of a lifetime were difficult to give up. I put a comforting hand on Jeremiah’s arm, then tensed as I recognized another familiar figure walking toward us.

Ethan had a wary look on his face but, to my surprise, he wasn’t wearing any handcuffs. Celeste was nowhere to be seen, and while I very much wanted to know if she was all right, I kept silent. “I’m glad you’re okay,” the bald man said to me.

I moved closer to Jeremiah, suspicion and mistrust echoing through my brain. Despite knowing why he kidnapped me, the impossible situation into which he’d been placed, I couldn’t bring myself to forgive his actions. Seeing him now only brought back memories of a cloth over my mouth, the sickly aroma of the sedative seeping down my throat, and the terror of him abandoning me to my fate.

“Thank you,” Jeremiah said from beside me, his arm pulling me tighter against his body. His body remained stiff as he addressed the bodyguard. “This could have turned out much different without your help.”

Ethan nodded. “I managed to find a heavy freezer inside one of the buildings. It kept any signal from getting in long enough for me to disarm the bomb around Celeste.” His gaze turned to me. “I hear I have you to thank for the extra delay.”

Confused, I turned to look at Jeremiah. He helped? How?

“The Kosovo reference,” Jeremiah said, answering my silent question. “Our informant on that mission led us into a trap, giving us faulty intel that got several men killed. However, he dialed the new coordinates on his cell phone so we could complete the mission anyway.” His powerful gaze never left the bald bodyguard’s. “I’m glad the outcome was better this time around.”

Ethan shrugged, but his eyes crinkled in a wince. “Celeste isn’t happy with how I handled the situation.” He glanced at me. “Leaving you behind with that assassin might be the one thing that costs me my marriage.”

Part of me desperately wanted to comfort him—I’d seen firsthand how much he adored his wife—but I couldn’t get any platitudes through my lips. It was all too fresh, too many bad memories and sensory links to work through before I could ever feel comfortable around the man. I think he saw that because regret etched across his face. “I wish I’d seen another way,” he said, eyes on me.

Before I could react, Jeremiah stepped forward. His arm was already moving and his fist cracked along Ethan’s jaw with a sickening snap. The bald man staggered back, falling to the ground, as Jeremiah towered his prone figure. “You’re fired.”

A protest lodged in my throat as I stared between the two men. Something silent passed between them, then Ethan nodded. “I expected worse.”

Jeremiah stepped forward, extending his hand, and helped Ethan to his feet. “You still have my respect, but I can’t afford to trust you again.” He stepped away. “Get your things from the bunkhouse and be off the property in half an hour; we’ll deal with the business end of things later.”

Ethan nodded soberly then turned to me. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for how I acted.”

“Your wife was kidnapped,” I replied, surprising myself. “You did what you thought you had to do, and managed to alert the cavalry to rescue me.” I struggled to find the words to continue, still conflicted about the day’s events. Was I really forgiving the man? “I hope you and Celeste can work things out,” I finished lamely, unable and unwilling to absolve him yet. His presence still made me nervous, and I shifted closer to Jeremiah.

Ethan saw the movement and sadness flickered through his eyes. “Take care of him,” he told me, the statement a surprise, then turned and walked back out the door.

I peered up at Jeremiah who was watching the entryway his old friend had just exited through. He must have felt my gaze because he turned his head to look at me. My lips parted as I was struck yet again by how beautiful he was, and lifted one hand to caress his face. One large hand slipped up and covered mine, and he placed a soft kiss on my palm that sent sparks through my body. Without thinking, I threw my arms around his torso and buried my head in his chest, tamping down the sobs that threatened to form.
I’m safe.

And I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I was irrevocably, madly in love with the man before me. The emotion burst through me, leaving me lightheaded at the realization that I was head-over-heels for the hard yet tender man I’d met only a short time before. Even the logical side of my brain, the part that had railed against such a silly notion before, was in silent agreement.

Jeremiah’s arm came around my shoulders and he kissed the top of my head just as another guard came through the door. I peeked sideways to see that the younger man looked nervous. “Um, sir…”

“Yes, Andrews?” Jeremiah replied, keeping me tight against his body.

Andrews swallowed, seeming reluctant to speak. “Government officials just arrived at the gate,” he finally said, placing his hands behind his back and standing straighter. The military stance seemed to give him more confidence. “They’re here to collect your brother.”

I blinked, confused, then looked up at Jeremiah. His face was blank for a moment, then he began to curse.

Ducking my head against Jeremiah’s torso, I hid my smile at Lucas’s deception and marveled at the day’s events.

5

The restraints around my wrists pulled tight, the cool leather holding me fast. The restraints were supple, designed not to cause any irritation, but I’d had them on all night and most of the morning. There was some discomfort, but I was too caught up in other sensations to really notice. Light streamed through small cracks in the heavy drapes, but the room stayed dark and secluded, the perfect getaway for what we were doing.

Jeremiah’s lips traveled up my spine, teeth grazing my naked skin as he moved back up my body. Fingers skimmed over my hips, tracing along the sides of my breasts against the mattress. My breath caught as his knee slid between my legs, and I felt his hard length press along my thigh. A hand smoothed my hair to one side as he rained kisses along my neck and up to my ear, teeth tugging gently at the cartilage. My hips rose in silent supplication; he nipped my earlobe but obliged my need, slipping easily inside me.

I sighed, my eyes fluttering closed. Our lovemaking had been frenzied and passionate before, but now, hours later, the edge had worn off and it was much easier to enjoy ourselves. Jeremiah insisted I stay bound to the headboard, subject to his every desire, and it never occurred to me to deny that demand. His authority and domination helped chase away the bad memories; I was safe, secure in his grasp, and focusing on that allowed me to enjoy the pleasure of the moment.

He rummaged for something, hips continuing to move his hard length in and out of me in long sure strokes, then the small vibrator I wore clicked on again. I let out a gasping breath as his arm slid under my waist, lifting me up to my knees. Fingernails skimmed along my back as he thrust harder, and I grasped the headboard for additional support.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, hands caressing my back and over the globes of my backside. “Everything about you is a turn-on.”

I bit my lip, his words a balm to my soul, and pressed back for more. He surged inside me, drawing a strangled gasp from my lips. Fingers dug into the skin of one hip, an anchor as he thrust repeatedly inside me, our coupling no longer a leisurely affair. I braced myself against the wooden headboard, shameless moans and cries being pulled from my throat. The tiny vibrator, perfectly positioned so as not to interfere with his access, sent waves through my body with each thrust and spiraled me higher and higher toward yet another orgasm. Other toys lay on the table beside the bed: floggers, feathers, dildos, and several items I wasn’t sure what to call, but Jeremiah wasn’t interested in any playing—no toys were used except the cuffs and the vibrator, both of which were more than enough in my opinion. I was spent and sore, but just as insatiable as the man inside me.

His thrusts became more erratic, a sure sign he was close to coming. My tired body tightened as well, bracing for another orgasm. I felt his breath along my neck, the rough stubble on his chin scraping along one shoulder. His hand snaked between my legs and pushed the tiny vibrator in closer to my body, straight on the throbbing center of pleasure within my folds, and with a strangled moan I came yet again. Every last bit of tension drained from my body, my forehead collapsing on my arms as my body shook, skin tingling from the overabundance of ecstasy I’d had through the night.

Jeremiah collapsed over me, spent, his welcomed weight pressing me farther into the mattress. I didn’t mind at all, grateful for the contact. Eventually, he stirred and reached up to unbuckle the cuffs, freeing my wrists from the restraints. I wiggled around until I was on my back, staring up at his muscled torso. My wrists ached but I didn’t care, as I ran my hands along his hard stomach and down his arms.

He drank me in with his eyes, gaze caressing me like silk. Behind his eyes I saw deep yearning, evidence of a hidden need, and love blossomed in my heart. I tugged on his shoulders, pulling him down atop me, and he came willingly, laying across my body so I could wrap my arms around him. His warmth and hard body made my soul sing, and I closed my eyes as I caressed his back. Being free of the restraints, however, made my mind free to wander, and even though I didn’t want to dwell on events they still rose to the forefront of my mind.

A lot had happened over the last two days, but the most worrying was the investigation on Jeremiah. The government officials who’d arrived to pick up Lucas hadn’t been amused to hear he’d escaped, and they also weren’t happy to learn about the additional kidnapping drama that happened the same day. Accusations that he’d allowed his brother to escape paled in comparison to the storm created by the dead bodies. Jeremiah’s use of his private helicopter over public areas, ironically enough, was the largest issue keeping his lawyers busy. We had, at least for the moment, been absolved of the deaths both on the property and along the waterway, but the violation of restricted airspace could still be enough to land Jeremiah in jail.

Hamilton Industries had also suffered a blow when Celeste had stepped down as COO following her kidnapping. Jeremiah didn’t talk about it and I didn’t pry, but I heard enough of his one-sided phone conversations to determine that she didn’t appreciate being kept in the dark and put in danger, however indirectly. The status of the redhead’s relationship with her husband was still a mystery, but I hoped she would forgive him. Time and space had given me a little perspective: Ethan had been between a rock and a hard place, and chose to save the one thing he loved most. I hated to think what I’d do in a similar situation.

In what I considered a comical twist of fate, I was finally performing many of the duties of a personal assistant for Jeremiah, taking phone calls and messages and helping with day-to-day business activities. It surprised me how much I enjoyed the fast-paced work; Jeremiah forwarded his calls to me and I helped set up his day and keep track of who needed what. To be honest, he threw me into the deep end, sink or swim, but I needed the distraction and I think he knew that. Anytime I slowed down or finished my duties, at those times when I had a free moment to let my brain think of something besides work, I’d invariably flash to an image or memory that disturbed me: the assassin’s open wound, Anya’s body in that bag, staring down the elongated barrel of the assassin’s gun. I’d only managed to embarrass myself once by crying, but with each day the memories became easier to bear. Work, at least, allowed my brain to stay disconnected from the unpleasantness.

A hand slid beneath my head, lifting my head from its position buried in his chest. Jeremiah gazed down at me, eyes searching mine. He traced the outline of my brow, fingers light against my skin as he followed the contour of my face down along my jaw and neck. His caressed lulled me from my thoughts and I closed my eyes, giving myself over to this simple pleasure.

“You’re thinking too hard,” he murmured, his chest rumbling with the words. “Right now, I only want you to feel.”

I gave a soft sigh and opened my eyes, my thoughts pulling me out of the moment. “Are we safe?” I asked, pushing my face into his hand and kissing a knuckle. “Do you know who Anya was talking about, who the person was that convinced her to hire the assassin?”

It was a discussion we’d already had, and I knew Jeremiah was well aware of the continuing threat somewhere out there. Anya’s last words before the sniper started firing, mentioning a man she never named, was a dark cloud looming on the horizon. I could feel it casting a shadow over me, but worried more for Jeremiah. He didn’t seem to be as intent on finding the mysterious figure as he was keeping me tied to this bed. I remembered my earlier conversation with Ethan at the hospital, where the former bodyguard talked about the CEO consistently shrugging off all kinds of danger. Jeremiah had already rejected his mother as a suspect, despite the new information and the fact that she fled without a word. His nonchalance toward the potential menace bothered me, and I couldn’t tell whether it was confidence or if he was doing it for my benefit—I hoped it was the latter.

“We’ll get it sorted out,” he replied, kissing my forehead. “I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

For a familiar argument, a familiar answer. His patience was frustrating, especially since I wanted answers now.
It’s only been a few days,
I admonished myself.
You can’t expect immediate results on a case with no leads.
Still, I hated being on the sidelines, unable to help in any meaningful way.

I pushed insistently at one shoulder, and Jeremiah rolled sideways onto his back, pulling me along with him so I was lying atop his body, straddling his waist. Tired as I was, I still raised myself from him, staring down at his beautiful face. He watched me, too, the fire in him slaked for now, his face as open as I’d ever seen. His hands smoothed up and over my breasts, then down to rest on my hips as he waited on me.