Desire Unmatched: 4 (Coded for Love) (20 page)
Read Desire Unmatched: 4 (Coded for Love) Online
Authors: Lynne Silver
“Your father…” She tried again after a hiccupping breath.
“Your dad tried to cut…”
He tore off his jacket, pulled her into his arms and pressed
the coat against her bleeding skin.
“Your father tried to cut out her birth control,” his mother
said. He had to strain to hear her voice over the thundering beat of his heart.
“What?” He snatched Emma closer. Man, when he’d returned
from France, he’d raced to his parents’ home, anxious to see her. His worst
fear had been his father would say something harsh. Never this.
“Are you okay?” He looked into Emma’s face, holding his
breath until she nodded slowly. “I’m taking you to Doctor Wise. Now.”
“No.”
He was already at the bottom basement step carrying her, but
froze at her vehement protest. “Em, you’re bleeding all over my coat. You need
medical attention.”
“Not from her.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“Because she told. Your dad knew about my birth control and
how to find it. It had to be Doctor Wise because I trust Samara. She wouldn’t
have told. Somehow Doctor Wise found out. I won’t ever trust her.”
He took the first step toward the first floor. “Fine. We’ll
see Jones. As long as you see someone. Can you walk?” He could’ve easily
carried her, but she was tugging at his shirt and struggling in his arms. “Now
what?”
“Your parents, Xander. We can’t leave them like this.”
He paused mid-step and spun, carefully setting Emma down. In
his terror at seeing Emma covered in blood, he’d ignored his mother, still
holding her frying pan weapon, and his father, who was still out cold on the
floor. “Fuck. Mom, go upstairs. Pack a bag. You’re coming with us back to
campus.” He pulled the pan out of her hands and placed it on a nearby
home-built wooden shelf. He knew it was home craftsmanship, because he’d been
forced to build the shelves for his dad a few years back.
“Judy? Can you do that? Do you want to come with us?” Emma’s
question was gentle.
His mother had gone Popsicle. Dammit. He could’ve prevented
this. When Emma had emailed to tell him she’d agreed to dinner at his parents’
home, he should’ve said no. Instead he’d dithered and asked her if she was sure
she wanted to go there. Pussy. He should’ve told her hell no. His dithering led
to swimming in this current cesspool. “Mom, go upstairs and pack. I’ll take
care of Dad.”
He pulled out his phone as Emma guided his mother up the
stairs. He dialed as soon as they’d made it safely to the top. The blind
leading the damn blind. Or in this case, the shaky leading the shakier. “Shep.
It’s Xander. I need your help.”
He stepped closer to his father, who groaned and attempted
to sit. Shep’s assurances reached him over the phone and he clicked off,
knowing his boss would handle the uglier business of the night. But there were
some things a man had to handle on his own.
Crouching, he waited until his father had managed to sit and
meet his gaze. “Bristack,” he said in a low, steady voice, “you’re no longer my
father. We will not speak to each other ever again. You will not even look at
Emma. If you see her in a public place, you will turn and walk away. Or I’ll
find you and hurt you. We’re through. We clear?” He didn’t wait for a response.
He stood and went to find Emma and his mother.
* * * * *
One Month Later
“Where are you taking me?” Xander opened the passenger door
and exited on shaky legs. His little Brit was not the NASCAR driver she thought
she was. He’d managed to keep his epithets to himself and his hands off the
wheel on the twenty-minute drive to downtown Baltimore. But barely.
Emma skipped around the car and grabbed his hand. “To a
museum.”
He tried to hide his frown. Museums were not his thing,
especially one with a sign that read
Walters Art Museum
. Yeah,
high-class paintings. Sooo not his thing. For Emma he’d fake it and smile and
murmur appreciatively over the art that would make no sense to him.
She squeezed his hand and he let himself get tugged along up
the graying, wide marble steps. “You look as though I’m taking you to the
dentist.”
He’d prefer the dentist to this. At least he’d know what he
was getting, and he’d always been good at handling pain. He stood quietly in
line, allowing Emma to pay the admission fee. His eyes scanned the large
entrance for anything out of the ordinary. You could take the soldier off the
compound, but you couldn’t take the soldier out of the man. Trouble was he
didn’t know what ordinary looked like in an art museum. This was his first
visit. He approved of the guard stationed past the ticket window checking bags.
Couldn’t be too careful, though why someone would come with
a weapon to an art museum was beyond him. Barring his own concealed weapon, of
course.
“Ready?” Emma asked.
He shrugged. “Lead the way.”
She studied the trifold map handed to her at the front, got
her bearings, then linked arms with him, walking determinedly up a staircase
then off to the right. He blinked to adjust his eyes to the dim light as they
entered a series of large connected rooms. A laminated poster to the right
declared the exhibit
300 Views of Sparta
.
“Emma?” He couldn’t say more. The contents of the exhibit
started to penetrate, and he stared around the room through a thin sheen of
wetness blanketing his vision. How had she known? He’d never mentioned his
fascination for all things Spartan to her. Had he?
“The books in your room,” she said quietly, answering his
unasked question.
His lips compressed and he forced himself to inhale.
“The exhibit goes in a particular order. The first thing is
this way.” She took his hand and led him off to the right. He still couldn’t
talk. He could read, though, and stare. Dimly he registered other exhibit
visitors pushing past him as they raced through the exhibit, barely glancing at
the precious artifacts. He was still on item number one.
He read the tiny printed paragraph on the signage, looked at
the cracked pot, reread the paragraph, and looked again, absorbing it.
Memorizing it.
Emma stood next to him, holding his hand the whole time.
Finally, he nodded to her and followed her to the second piece of history. He
still hadn’t said a damn word. Wasn’t capable of it. That she had taken a
handful of books in his room and understood his obsession spoke volumes. This
field trip was the most precious thing anyone had ever done for him.
At the third installment, he finally pushed the words out in
a hoarse voice. “Thank you.”
Thank you for bringing me here, thank you for
giving me this, thank you for being you.
He didn’t manage more than the two
clichéd words, but Emma knew him. She understood him better than he knew
himself.
“I love you.” She shrugged as if this were a no biggie. He
couldn’t let her get away with that. It was a biggie. It was huge.
He forced himself away from the exhibit, guiding her to a
low leather rectangle bench in the center of the room. They sat, turned toward
each other, his knees brushing up against hers. “Emma…”
“No.” She squeezed his knee.
“What?”
“I know what you’re going to say,” she interrupted. “You’re
going to make this a huge deal, and it’s not, Xander, it’s really not. That’s
what kills me. This is what normal life looks like with someone who cares about
you. When we have children…”
He couldn’t help it, his stomach tightened. One month on
campus with his mom nearby and no sign of his father still hadn’t lessened the
fear.
“This will be normal. If they like fish, we’ll take them to
the aquarium. If they like rockets, we’ll go to the Air and Space Museum.
That’s what loving parents do. Don’t get all thankful as if I’m some sort of
goddess because I dragged you to a museum with an exhibit I thought you’d
enjoy. It’s what girlfriends do. We’re going shoe shopping after this. I need
new winter boots, so it’ll all even out.”
He grinned at her. “I can handle that.”
“And I’m buying expensive Uggs, and I want to hear you
grumble about the cost.”
“I’ll bitch the whole time,” he promised, feeling his grin
widen.
“Now let’s go see some more Spartan artifacts.” She rose and
walked to a large shield hanging on a painted rose-colored wall. He joined her,
thanking science and other higher deities for giving him a woman who brought
him normal. She’d deny it, but she was his prize for putting up with his
father’s abuse. She was the reward, the gold medal, his everything.
Award-winning author Lynne Silver lives the life of a suburban
soccer mom, volunteering with the PTA, doing laundry and working. By night she
enters the sensuous world of alpha males and passionate heroines.
She lives in an old fixer-upper with her husband and their
two sons. When not writing romance, she reads it. Lots of it. Over and over and
over again, preferably with a bag of M&Ms in hand.
Lynne welcomes comments from readers. You can find her
website and email addresses on her
author
bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.
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Lynne
Silver
Coded
for Love 2: Conquered Match
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
Desire Unmatched
ISBN 9781419948053
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Desire Unmatched Copyright © 2013 Lynne Silver
Edited by Grace Bradley
Cover design by Syneca & Michelle
Cover photography by CURAphotography/shutterstock.com
Electronic book publication October 2013
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