Everything You Want: Everything For You Trilogy 2 (45 page)

Amanda Devereaux.

How could I have been so incredibly stupid? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Chapter Twenty

Jack isn’t the target. It’s me.

When he comes through that door and sees me lying naked in the arms of another man he will draw an obvious conclusion.

I use every ounce of will power I possess to move, to scream out, do something. Anything. I can’t just lie here and allow this to happen. Amanda knows what I know. Jack has become closer to me over the past few weeks than he is to her. This is her vile way of making sure he is royally disillusioned.

My forefinger moves. It does. A minute movement but a movement nonetheless. Too small for the guy to notice but it means the effects of the drug are starting to wear off. I must keep trying to fight it without him noticing. If he makes me take another swallow of his poison, I’m lost.

I concentrate all my will-power on making my finger move again. It isn’t my imagination. I can do it. I try to move the other fingers too.

Moment by moment my muscles unlock. I gently waggle the tips of my fingers. Slowly perhaps, but they stir. I’m not that far under. Not in a coma. I try shifting my toes too and find, with considerable effort, after some time, I can twitch them. I need my hands and feet under my control enough to be able to help me when the chance comes.

The phone rings in the guy’s hand and I involuntarily twitch in surprise.

“Recovering a bit, eh?” he says staring at me. He answers the call instead of attempting to drug me again. “Yeah, yeah. We’re set. Twenty minutes? That works for me. She’ll be ready.” He ends the call.

“Seems your timing’s perfect. This won’t look quite so believable if it seems like I’m in bed with a corpse.”

He takes my arm and rubs my limb as if he’s trying to chafe some life back into it. He repeats it on the other side. I discover I can limply move my wrist now. He draws back the sheet and rubs at my legs. Heaving me up by the arms, he sits me back against him as he’s propped up on the pillows. I feel a tiny movement in his body, so disgusting it makes me fight to arch my body away from his.

Oh God, is he planning to rape me anyway just as Jack arrives?

He senses my ineffectual response. “Doll, I’m not gonna do what you think I’m gonna do. It’s just a natural reaction. Can’t blame a man for that.” He pulls the band from my pony tail and musses up my hair. “Need you to look like I have though.” He laughs.

I want to scream. Demand to know about Amanda Devereaux’s involvement. I want to offer this sick animal ten times whatever she’s paying him to let me go before any harm is done between Jack and me. I try to speak but what emerges is a strangled moan.

“Be quiet. Be a good girl and it’ll be over soon. No harm done.”

Has he any idea what’s at stake here? When Jack sees me like this he’ll know I’ve been drugged though. He’ll help me, won’t he?

The guy hefts me to the bottom of the bed easily and turns me, manoeuvring me onto my knees, leaning me forward over the back of the sofa. He presses up against me. It feels like some nightmarish dream as I detect the prickling of numb life slowly returning to my arms and legs. They tingle. The guy keeps one arm clamped firmly around my waist to stop me toppling sideways.

I try to lift my leaden head and manage to raise it a little before my chin drops onto my chest again. It feels like I’ve drunk an entire bottle of Scotch in one go.

“I reckon we timed you just right.”

We? This guy and… Amanda?

“You’re gonna look exactly the way we wanted.”

I make a slurred, thick-tongued moan.

“Sound effects are good too. Just do that when the target comes then I won’t have to do the nasty.”

The target? Jack? The nasty? Christ Almighty.

I battle for control of my lifeless body. Little more than a ragdoll but one with a monstrous will, I manage to straighten one elbow. He’s kneeling between my parted knees and I’m far too weak to tear myself away or rip his arm from around my waist. He rubs a palm vigorously up and down my back, trying, I think, to rouse me a little more to life.

His phone rings again. He reaches back, heaving me with him as he stretches. “Yeah? I’m ready. The girl’s ready. Got it.” He punches the button to end the call. “Two minutes, doll, ’til show time. All you gotta do is look like you’re having fun.” His laugh is nervous. He’s suddenly jumpy.

I’m fighting with every ounce of my being when I feel the Sirocco.

Even in my drugged state I know Jack is near. I heave my leaden head again and stare pleadingly through the bedroom doorway towards the sitting room as I hear the main door into the suite opening.

“Tabitha?” Jack’s familiar voice sends a flame of hope licking through my body. “Tabitha? Are you in here?”

It’s doused when the guy yanks my head back onto his shoulder and buries his mouth in my bare neck.

I moan. I can’t help it. I try to call to Jack. Warn him.

The guy behind my shoulder whispers in my ear. “That’s the spirit, doll. Moan again for daddy so he doesn’t have to touch you.” He places his hand over my naked breast.

I moan good and loud. Help me, Jack. Help me. The guy presses himself against my back and dry humps my body with an obscene movement as I whimper to Jack to help me.

“Oh, doll. You’re so hot.”

What is this jerk doing? I catch a waft of Clive Christian and lift my rolling eyes to meet Jack’s. His floor me. His eyes dart everywhere, taking in the scene. And understanding none of it. Making no sense of what he sees. Looking at me. Making his mind up. He’s shocked. Appalled. Angry.

No, Jack. Don’t. Not me.

“What the fuck?” He steps into the room, his approach hesitant as if he can’t quite believe what he’s witnessing.

I lock my elbows tight and push back against the sofa. All I can see is the look of abject horror in Jack’s eyes. Betrayal?

“That feels so good, doll.”

Don’t believe him Jack, Don’t. My voice only groans. Moans. The guy pulls me upright against him, cupping both naked breasts with his hands.

I’m screaming inside, trying to get him the fuck off me. The effects of the drug make me feel like that moment just before orgasm when you lose all motor control. My eyes roll backwards and my head lolls against his neck. I sound like I’m coming in this guy’s arms and lock down my traitorous voice.

“Hey, what’s this, a circus? Can’t a guy and his doll get some privacy? You got the wrong room, buddy.”

“Take your fucking hands off her.” Jack charges at us like a raging bull. I mentally cringe for impact.

Everything blurs as Jack reaches for me, ripping me and the guy apart. I slump sideways onto the bed without support. Jack’s look of disgust as he glares down at me haunts me. Please, Jack. Don’t think it. Don’t listen to him.

I make a sound, a little less like moans, a little more like words. Just garbled. Drunken. Incomprehensible.

“Watch it mate. My girl’s had a bit too much Champagne to drink.” The liar laughs in his irritating way. I want to murder him.

“You fucking bastard. You got her drunk so you could...” Jack can’t even say what he’s thinking. Jack’s hand swings back and I hear the crack of bone on bone as a fist connects with the guy’s jaw.

He yelps. “I didn’t force her. Jesus, pal. She wanted it. It’s not like it’s our first time. We’re bed buddies. You know what I mean?” He scuttles backwards like he’s totally shocked, scrubbing at his chin.

It’s not true, Jack. Can’t you see he’s lying? I’m slurring my words frantically and squirming around trying to push myself upright but I keep collapsing again.

I nearly slide off the bed but Jack heaves me backwards. “Christ, Tabitha. Stay put. You’re going to injure yourself.” There’s no mistaking the angry, bitter hurt beneath his words. He’s utterly repelled by what he sees.

As Jack leans over to check me out, the guy recovers and launches himself at him. He’s heavily built, clearly knows how to handle himself and fights dirty. I see him pick up the Champagne bottle and know he’s planning to cave the back of Jack’s skull in with it. I try to shout a warning but the sounds are mumbled and dense.

Jack ducks and the bottle smashes on the end of the bed. Jack uses his body to protect me from the shards of flying glass. Leaping up, he turns and drives his shoulder into the guy’s chest, grappling him to the floor.

They’re out of my line of sight but I hear the thumps and thuds as blows are exchanged. Jack soon has the guy yanked to his feet and pinned against the wall by the sheer force of his rage. He has little to get hold of with the guy practically naked. I’m writhing around as my ability to move returns more and more.

The guy tries to head butt Jack who shifts his face just in time for the blow to land on his cheekbone instead of breaking his nose. Jack pounds a fist into the guy’s stomach and I watch the jerk double up under the brute force and drop to the floor. He struggles to his knees gasping to draw breath giving Jack time to move to my side again.

“Why?” Jack helps me to sit but quickly realises I can’t stay upright unaided. He sweeps the tangle of hair from my face and assesses the state I’m in. I try to tell him what has happened but only keep making stupid noises.

The guy staggers to his feet and darts to the door grabbing his shirt from the sofa as he goes. Jack and I both watch as the pink diamond flies upwards in an arc and descends to the carpet, rolling over and over until it comes to a deadly halt. The guy ignores it grabbing at the clothes he placed earlier as he runs out of the suite, shouting behind him. “We’ll pick up later, Tabs, when you get rid of the muscle. I’ll call you, doll.”

He makes it sound as if we know each other and I realise that leaving that diamond ring behind seals my fate. It looks exactly like I removed all evidence of my engagement to Jack when we ripped each other’s clothes off. And it proves the guy is no thief as he made no attempt to steal an obvious fortune.

Amanda must be paying him well.

It looks exactly like she wanted it to. As if I blew Jack off on his birthday to meet my lover willingly, for sex. She has planned everything meticulously.

Jack lets him run, staying beside me.

“How much have you had to drink?” He assesses the dilation of my pupils, feeling for my ragged pulse and the temperature of my pallid, clammy skin. “Have you taken any damn drugs?” He drives his fist into the mattress in blunt rage. I blurt an incoherent reply.

“For Christ’s sake, Tabitha, you only left my side a couple of hours ago. Was he worth it? That fucking animal abandoned you.” His voice contains a mixture of fury, confusion and wounded pain. He’s deeply hurt by this picture of my betrayal.

He doesn’t share his woman. Ever.

I force my horrified eyes to his. Agony is evident in their Arctic depths. The harsh glitter of outrage rapidly descends into coldest disregard. He’s telling himself he doesn’t care. Telling himself I’m not worth it. But his eyes disclose the same splinter of distress I feel fracturing my heart at this hideous injustice.

Please, Jack. Don’t believe this of me.

The treachery of my infidelity etches his features. His eyes slice through me until I feel the sharp pain of his devastation cutting right across my belly. I’m desperate to explain but it’s impossible in this state. I want to tell him of the dirty trick to make him hate me. Amanda’s evil deception to make him turn once more to her. I have to make him understand the only thing that matters and force myself to drag in a breath. I’ll say the words out loud if it kills me.

Jack watches my efforts in stunned disbelief.

My first attempt is swallowed by a rambling mumble. But I unbendingly fight on to control my brain and master the muscles in my throat and thickened tongue. “I.” The word is torn from my throat in a rasp, alien and awkward. The next takes everything I have inside me. “Love.” But the final word remains eternally trapped behind the steel bars of my pursed lips and in my heart.
You
.

Jack jumps to his feet. “You love him?” He throws his hands around his head as if it’ll explode if he doesn’t hold the pieces together. He spins across the room and back again.

I try to shake my head but it hurts too much. Tears roll down my face.

“You love a guy that gets you so drunk you hardly know what he’s doing to you? A fucking piece of work that runs off and leaves you alone with a complete stranger? Me!”

I try to follow his frantic pacing but I have to shut my eyes against the dizziness and nausea that threatens to overwhelm me.

“
I
love you.
I
bloody well love you.” Jack thumps his chest each time he says it.

Jack loves me.

He really loves me. He does. I have absolutely no doubt in my mind any longer. What have I done? I stretch my dead arm slowly towards him. He stops pacing and stares at it. Please take my hand, Jack. Come to me. I’ll show you who I love. The only man I’ve ever loved or will ever love.

He turns his back on me. “I can’t even look at you.”

The room turns. The bed pitches and tosses beneath me like I’m lost and alone on a dark, frantic ocean in a wild storm. More fat tears of devastation squeeze past the edges of my dry, scratchy eyelids.