REGENCY: Loved by the Duke (Historical Billionaire Military Romance) (19th Century Victorian Short Stories) (5 page)

Chapter 3

The other line rang once, twice before Hope replaced the receiver, prematurely ending the call. She stood, her arms wrapped protectively around her midsection, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for the payphone to ring. This was the only way to get a hold of her seller, but today, it made her feel uneasy. Exposed.

The shrill sound of the ring had her jumping, then silently berating herself for being foolish. She had done this several times before, she just couldn’t shake the itch between her shoulder blades. It made her skin scrawl. It made her feel like someone was watching her.

Hope quickly picked up the receiver again.

“I have the item.”

“Fantastic. Excellent work, as always.”

“Thank you, sir.  Where would you like to meet for the drop-off?”

“I have arranged for you to meet the buyer directly.” Hope was shocked, and a little wary in the sudden change of operations.

“Are you sure about that, sir? I never meet the buyers. I’m not really the customer service type, you know?”

“Don’t be silly, he is a very exclusive client, and he has an…interest in meeting the person who procured the object.”

“I really don’t think–.”

“I don’t pay you to think, Ms. McAllister. I pay you to do your job, and right now, this is part of your job.”

Hope sighed, thinking of rent, her brothers hospital bills, the doctor visits and prescriptions that all had to happen soon.

“Right, sir. Sorry, of…of course, I’ll take care of it.”

“Great, he’ll be waiting at the Café du Monde, one o’clock sharp. Don’t be late.”

“Don’t wor…” She let her words trail off as she realized he had already hung up. He really wasn’t a very pleasant man, her employer whom she only knew is “Mr. Jones”, which she was fairly certain was a fake name.

She glanced at the time on her cell phone. Damn, she only had twenty minutes to get to the café. Enough to walk downtown from where she was at, but not enough to go back to her apartment where she had hidden the book, and bring it to the drop off.

Something told her it was better to keep it hidden anyways, and with that thought, Hope set off towards the café to meet with the man who wanted to buy the stolen manuscript.

She reached the café with barely a minute to spare, looking over her shoulder for the entire short walk, pausing several times to try and hear anything suspicious or out of place. She couldn’t put her finger on it but something was making Hope nervous, and she had learned over the years to trust her instincts.

She neared the café, looking for the man that Mr. Jones had said would be wearing a blue sports coat. Not a lot to go by, she thought sarcastically as she spied no less than three men wearing blue coats sitting in the café.

She swept her eyes once more over the crowd, and her breath caught.
No, no way
. It can’t be
him
. Against her will, her brown gaze drank in the sight of his muscled arms and broad chest, which she knew had rock hard pecs and matching abs hidden under the black t-shirt he wore.

His light blond hair was exactly the same as she remembered, short, but longer on the top and tousled looking, as if she had just run her fingers through it. And his icy blue eyes, like a crisp winter day, staring at her with hard intent.

Her pulse raced madly, as she looked around, quickly trying to assess her exit strategy but it was too late. Hope knew it was too late for her the second her eyes had met Valentines.

She ducked around a couple still waiting in line to entire the crowded café, and headed towards the back of the building, hoping to lose him in the rabbit warren of loading docks and back alleys that ran behind the downtown businesses. Before she had taken more than a few steps, she felt a hard, but gentle, grasp on her upper arm, dragging her to a halt.

“Let go of me, Valentine.”

“Hmm, let me think about that.” She bit back a frustrated sigh as her body melted at the sound of his voice, deep, husky, and thick with an accent that she heard every night in her dreams. “No. No, I don’t think I will let you go, Hope.”

True to his word, he kept his hand wrapped firmly around her, directing her across the street with his entire body. His message was clear. Either cooperate, or be dragged.

Trying for some semblance of control, she quickened her pace, trying to keep up with his long strides, pretending they were just a normal couple, out for a walk. Hah!

She cast a sideways glance at his face, taking in the tense jawline and clenched teeth, the hard look in his blue eyes. No, there was nothing about them that was normal.

When they had met in Moscow, it had been a whirlwind affair. She had been there for a job, and he, well, he had swept her off her feet despite her best intentions not to let it happen.

And now, suddenly, he was here, shockingly here, and her system didn’t seem to know how to handle it. The familiar, spicy scent of him wrapped around her, enclosing her in his essence, and she could feel his hand on her, even gentler now that she’d stopped struggling. The pad of his thumb swept slowly back and forth against her skin in an unconscious move she doubted Valentine was even aware of.

But she was. The slight touch was sending massive shockwaves through her body, reminding her of all the delicious hours they had spent tangled together in his high-rise penthouse.  He had showed her a glimpse of his life, so different from her own.

Before she knew what was happening, they were in front of an exclusive hotel, walking in through the lobby, and Valentine ushered her into the elevator. She grabbed her arm away and sent him a murderous glare for his high-handed behavior.

“Really, Valentine. Was that all necessary? What are you even doing here? Why did–.”

“Shh.” His voice cut her off, fueling her irritation, and wariness. “We can’t talk here, not yet.”

“What? Why?” He just gave her a look, staring at her with those hard blue eyes, eyes that she had seen on fire with lust, with humor, with affection. She regretted the loss of that, but she knew it was her own fault. Hope had earned his trust, and then betrayed him. Now she had to live the consequences.

They arrived at the top floor, and exited, moving down a short hallway to a suite on the left. Valentine opened the door, and held it open for her, gesturing for Hope to enter ahead of him.

Warily, she walked through the door. He was on her instantly, his arms like steel bands around her, his mouth voracious as his lips battled with hers. Fire flooded her bloodstream, making her lightheaded as she leaned her whole body against him, reveling in the feel of his hardness surrounding her again.

She hadn’t realized how much she had missed this, how much she had regretted that she would never feel his touch, his kiss. For a moment, she allowed herself to forget. The guilt that ate at her for hurting him, for leaving him.  The knowledge that she had torn apart the only good thing to happen to her in a long time, destroying his trust when she had taken the book and left. The niggling fear that there was more, much more, to the reason that he was really there.

That thought had her pulling back from the kiss, breathless, the euphoria of his mouth hard on hers slowly replaced with a feeling of trepidation. She knew she had to ask him questions, and she also knew that she didn’t want the answers.

“Valentine.”

“Hush, let me get a drink. Then we’ll talk.”  He walked over to a small, but fully stocked bar and poured himself a finger of premium scotch, drinking it, and then pouring another for him and one for her.

He brought her the glass, and she took it, but didn’t drink any of it. She wouldn’t be drinking any alcohol for a while, she thought with another jolt of fear. She had just started to figure things out, make plans for her future, but her entire world felt turned upside down. Hope never expected to see Valentine again.

Hope to a deep, fortifying breath.

“What are you doing here?” He raised a brow at her, and she blushed a deep scarlet.

“Really, Hope, the question is what are
you
doing here? I’m the one who should be asking questions, not you.”

“Listen, it’s complicated–.”

“Hah! It’s not complicated at all!” his words slowly gained momentum as his anger bubbled to the surface. “You fucked me, you stole from me, and then…then you just left me.”

She flinched at each accusation, not knowing what to say. It was the truth.

“I…We…I never meant to sleep with you, Valentine, that just…it just happened.” Hope huffed out, still unable to explain how that had happened to herself. She was always detached, professional. There was just something about him that was impossible for her to resist.

“What, I was like a perk or something?” A bitter laugh burst from Hopes chest.

“No! You were…you were a complication. You
are
a complication.” She shook her head as she set the glass down, still untouched. “I shouldn’t even be here. You shouldn’t be here. We–.”

“I get it, we shouldn’t be here,” His deep voice interrupted, “but we are. Just be honest with me hope, tell me what happened, I want to understand. Were you in trouble or something? Is that why you took that old, dusty book?”

“Old, dusty book?” She laughed again, this time incredulous. “Only a billionaire would call a centuries old, incredibly rare and valuable manuscript an ‘old, dusty book’.”

Hope took a step back, and then another.

“It was just a job, okay? That’s why I was there in the first place. It was just my luck that the person who owned it was…you.” She had been about to say
irresistible
, but just barely held it in. “I have to go, I can’t tell you anything, okay?”

“No, don’t go, we have to talk.” He reached for her wrist but she moved away before he could grab it.

“There’s nothing else to talk about, Valentine. My hands are tied. In a few hours that manuscript will be out of the country.” She didn’t mention that currently, it was stashed in her safe place in her apartment.

She had her hand on the delicate brass knob, turned it, and had the door open an inch before Valentine was there, holding it closed.

“Let me leave. I have a meeting to get to.”

“With another criminal? What are you doing, Hope? You’re so much better than this.”

His softly spoken words had her heart breaking all over again.

“Please, just…We’ll talk later, okay?” Hope needed time to figure out what to tell him, how to tell him. She felt scraped raw at the moment.

With a sigh, he released the door, recognizing the stubborn look in her eyes. The one that told him she wouldn’t give in. Hope was just closing the door when she heard his soft whisper.

“Be careful,
zvezda moya.
”

Her breath caught painfully in her chest at the sound of his nickname for her. It meant his star. Brushing away the tear, Hope smoothed the front of her skirt unnecessarily, and headed back to the café hoping that she wasn’t too late.

Chapter 4

By the time Hope got back to the café, any sign of Mr. Blue Sports Coat was gone. She tried to reach out to her seller, Mr. Jones, but had no luck with him either.  She took the bus back to her studio apartment, and stayed there, restless, for the rest of the afternoon. It took all her will power not to check the manuscript where she had it hidden in a false ceiling tile she had fabricated, but the strange way things were unfolding around the valuable object had her leaving it be, untouched.

Overwhelmed, stressed, and desperate for a distraction, she threw on a short, sinfully tight black dress and head to a club just a few blocks away from her place. She needed to blow off some steam, maybe dance for a few hours, and think about everything that had happened earlier in the day.  The last thing she needed was to stay cooped up in her tiny apartment.

Even though it was pretty early in the night, just shy of nine o’clock,
The Rocket
had music blasting, a crowd of people moving on the dance floor, and a packed bar. Hope wound her way into an empty space, placed her order for a seltzer water, and waited while the busy bartender got her water and handed it to her before walking to one of the only empty tall tables. She rested her drink on the black linoleum surface, playing with the condensation, not noticing the big shadow falling over her until it was too late.

She looked up into simmering, ice blue eyes, and was lost. It was like that every time, and she was desperately afraid it always would be.

“You look amazing.” The heat in his words matched the fire burning in his lust-filled gaze perfectly, ratcheting up her own temperature. “Come dance with me,
Zvyozdochk
a.”
Little star.

She cracked, just for a moment, but a moment was all Valentine needed as he grabbed her hand, so dark against his own pale skin, and led her onto the dance floor.

Desire threatened to drown her as he moved his body tantalizing close to hers.

“That dress is driving me crazy, Hope.” Valentine growled in her ear as he brushed his fingertips down either side of her ribcage, the touch so light she almost didn’t feel it.
             
The swayed to the music like that for some time, Valentine teasing her over and over again until she felt her body would combust.

“Please, Valentine. I…”

“You what?” The words were whispered roughly against her neck, and the feel of his hot breath on her skin had her aching even more, a deep, pounding throb that matched the beat of the heavy music.

“I…can’t do this. You, the way you make me feel. So out of control.”

He just chuckled huskily.

“Of course you can do this, Hope. Our bodies were made for one another,” He paused briefly, before continuing so quietly she almost missed it. “We were made for one another.”

That crack turned into a flood at the emotion she heard in his deep, accented voice. But his next words had the blood in her veins freezing.

“Why don’t you just hand the manuscript over, and we can put this all behind us. Move on.”

“What!”

“Just give me the book, Hope. Return it to me, and then we can move on to other things. More fun things.”

She shoved him back with her hands on his shoulders, but he didn’t budge.

“Are you serious, Valentine?” Suddenly, it all clicked. “Oh, I see. That’s what this is all about. You just want the manuscript back. You’re just…using me?”

“No, that’s ridiculous. I want you, Hope. You know I want you, you know I care about you.”

“What if I said no? I won’t give you the manuscript, what them?”

Valentine let out a rough sigh, his expression suddenly hard.

“Hope, it’s important. I need that book!”

“Right, the book is important. But you care about me, so that makes it all better. Well, forget it, Valentine. I can’t believe I actually almost fell for your stupid…” Hope shook her head as her words trailed off.

“I mean it Valentine, just forget it. And forget me!”

With that she pulled away from him, quickly snaking through the dense crowd, looking for some escape. She desperately needed some fresh air, needed to clear her head. She saw the red sign proclaiming an exit toward the back and headed towards it.

That…man!
Hope fumed as she flew through the back exit of the club. On one hand she knew she wasn’t really in any position to be angry at him, but that didn’t stop the vicious stab of pain at the realization that he was just using her to get the manuscript back. That was the real reason he was there. Not because he cared about her.

It was so dumb. She had stolen from him, lied to him. Hope knew that she had even hurt him, but it didn’t change the fact that it had torn her apart to do it. She had let herself get in way too deep, and had almost lost everything. Her job, her home, her brother’s life and security.

It turns out that losing Valentine had hurt her just as much, maybe more. And that realization terrified Hope.  She cared about him, deeply, more than she could ever have imagined.

There a scrape of a boot behind her, and that was the only warning Hope had as she was dragged behind the building, the large parking lot deserted at the late hour. She struggled wildly as panic crashed through her, wiping out reason, thought, logic. Only pure instinct was left, and she used it, simultaneously bringing her elbow back sharply and the tip of her heel down on the top of her attacker’s foot.

“You bitch.”

The muffled swear had fear spiking as he grabbed her by both arms, his hands digging viciously into the tender flesh as he dragged her further into the shadows.

“Help! Someone…Help me!”

Her words were cut off as he smashed a foul smelling rag into her mouth.

“Shut up!” He shoved her face first into the rough brick wall of the back of the club. Tears threatened as she heard the distant sounding thud of the music, so close to safety and yet so far away.

“Tell me where the book is!” Shock slowed her mind, making thought all but impossible.

“Wha…What?”

“The book! You know what I’m talking about, the manuscript. The one you stole.”

“How could you possibly…?”

“The people I work for know a lot of things, sweetheart.” The sneer in his voice as he said the endearment made her skin crawl. “A lot of dangerous things. They’re dangerous people.”

“I don’t know, I swear. I met with a man today at the Café du Monde” She said, thinking as fast as she could. “He, uh…he bought the manuscript. He took it with him. That’s all I know, I swear.”

“Well, I don’t believe you.” He emphasized his words with a rough shove, scraping her cheek against the brick. “and the people I work for really aren’t the kind you disappoint, so…Agh!”

Suddenly, the pressure holding her against the wall was gone. All it took was a single punch from Valentine to send her assailant to the grimy ground, but he was up quickly, replaced his thick-framed glasses, and running into the shadows before Valentine could catch him.

He rushed over to her. “Her, are you okay?” He tried to examine her, but it was too dark. “Come on, I’m taking you back to my hotel.”

“No, Valentine, I really don’t think–.”

“No arguments, Hope.” She looked up into his serious blue eyes, and knew he was a second away from just throwing her over his shoulders and carrying her all the way there. She sighed in resignation, secretly glad not to have to return to her apartment alone.

“Okay, let’s go.”