Under His Protection (18 page)

“I don’t know. She’s really not told me much
about her background.” Curiosity filled her. From the moment she
met Suzanne, she’d been intrigued. There was a mysterious air about
her. She acted like she had something to hide. Or that she was
scared. Of something. Or someone.

Maybe there was more to it than Blake
realized. And didn’t that make her feel like a fool?

“Right. That confirms it. I don’t think it’s
safe, hanging out with her. We don’t know who she is or what she
wants from you.” Mason’s expression hardened. “I don’t trust her.
I’ll conduct a more thorough investigation and find out what I can
about her first thing tomorrow.”

Frustration filled her. “Oh come on, Mason.
She’s harmless. Maybe she’s running from some jerky guy. She did
tell me how she recently got out of a really bad relationship
before she ended up here. Maybe he was abusive and she’s in hiding
from him.”

“And maybe she’s some sort of criminal on
the run from the authorities. Now that she’s friends with the vice
president’s daughter, she’s thinking how she can use you to get out
of doing time for her crimes,” Mason threw back at her.

His remark stung. She winced, hating the
fact that she wondered if he was right.
Was
Suzanne using
her? She wouldn’t be the first person to pretend to be her friend,
that was for sure.

But Suzanne had started talking to her
before she even realized who she was. Or maybe she’d known all
along...

“That was cruel,” Blake said quietly and she
saw the flash of regret on Mason’s face. “She’s a nice woman.
Lonely and sad and you’re acting like she’s some sort of thief or
runaway murderer.”

He immediately appeared contrite. “I’m just
looking out for your safety. You know sometimes you don’t...”

“Make the best choices, I know. Trust me, I
get it. You’ve told me before.” Blake was irritated. She pushed
away from the counter and stood, grabbing her plate.

Setting the plate in the sink with a
satisfying clank, she silently fumed as she stared out the window.
Even in the darkness, she could see the tree branches sway, could
feel the wind blow hard against the walls of the cabin.

Mason had been right. A storm was coming and
it looked like a big one. She felt like that brewing storm.
Gathering up a simmering anger, preparing to unleash it all on him
and damn the consequences.

She hated how he doubted her ability
to—jeez, function in the world. He treated her like she wasn’t
capable of making good choices. Yes, fine. She’d given him reason
for his doubt in the past, but her friendship with Suzanne was
genuine. And she didn’t want to ruin it because of Mason’s
doubt.

“Hey.” He approached her from behind and she
turned, saw him standing before her with his half-full plate
clutched in his hands. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

She tilted her chin. “Well, you did. I’m not
a child, Mason. I can make decisions that won’t put me in harm’s
way.”

“I’m just doing—”

“Your job, I know,” she interrupted. She
took the plate from him and dumped the remains in the garbage, then
set the plate in the sink.

Big hands settled on her shoulders and she
stopped, held herself still has he began to massage the tight
muscles there. God, she was weak, caving in to his brief touch,
wanting nothing more than to stop the talking and start the kissing
and touching and everything else that came with it.

“I don’t want you to get hurt. I have to
keep you safe.” He drew her close, his hard, warm body pressed
against hers and she weakened, her limbs melting as she settled
against him.

“I know,” she whispered, closing her eyes
when she felt his hot mouth touch her neck. She tilted her head,
gave him better access and he took it, his slow-moving lips and
tongue whipping her into a fevered state in an instant.

He had her. Just like that.

And she hated it.

Chapter Twelve

“Why isn’t she here? You promised, damn
it.”

Suzanne startled at the sound of the beer
bottle smashing against the wall, bits of amber glass raining upon
the beat up hardwood floor. She crouched down on the couch, her
arms over her head in a protective gesture when Rich Bentley lunged
for her, his fist raised, his face a mask of rage. She watched it
all, peeking from beneath her arm.

“She’s busy, she couldn’t come over,”
Suzanne cried, her voice muffled by her drawn up knees. She felt a
glancing blow atop her head and winced, thankful she’d curled up
into herself.

She’d learned the pose years ago, after the
first few beatings from Rich. Her husband who’d finally found her
on the island yesterday.

Like a ghost walking back into her life,
he’d appeared, striding into the little café she worked at as if he
belonged there. She’d very nearly dropped the full coffee pot she
carried on her toes but somehow she’d kept a grip on it. She’d even
managed to smile pleasantly in his direction when he sat at a table
with that smug expression on his face she’d fought so hard to
banish from her memory.

How he found her, she had no clue. She’d
been so careful to cover her tracks. It had taken months of careful
planning and organization. When she’d finally gathered the
documents, money and courage, she’d fled.

Amber Bentley disappeared. Suzanne Arnold
had been born.

Nine long months ago, she’d walked away,
thinking she’d never see his angry, scrunched up face again. Such a
different woman she’d been then. A different woman, a different
life, a sad little lost soul and now she had a life full of
promise.

Or so she thought. Until that promise came
crashing down around her ears at first sight of her hateful
husband.

Now he was practically holding her hostage.
Looking for an easy way out, looking for some sort of payback for
her leaving him.

“Faking your death did me no good,
Amber,”
he’d said when he finally got her alone, emphasizing
the pronunciation of her true name, knowing it drove her crazy.
“Once the insurance company denied the claim because they never
found a body, I knew your ass was still alive. And I was
right.”

He couldn’t get over being right or that
he’d actually found her. He kept bringing it up, throwing it in her
face.

All because of an insurance policy she had
no idea had been on her life. Had he been planning to kill her all
along for the cash? She wouldn’t doubt it. He couldn’t ever keep a
job, yet he had a very expensive drug habit. He’d turned her into
his work horse in order to have extra money.

When Rich screamed at her yet again for
compensation last night, she’d thrown up Blake as some sort a
prize. Her one and only friend, she hated how quickly she threw out
her name, but he’d given her no choice.

It was all about survival now.

Rich’s ears had perked up when he discovered
she was the vice president of the United States’ daughter. The
gleam in his eye told her he was very interested.

If anyone could figure out how to extract
every last drop of money out of a person, Rich could. He’d already
put the plan into place, though she thought it had been stupid of
him to call her. Distorting his voice with some sort of weird
microphone thing he found at a Halloween shop. He’d drawn attention
to the fact that something was brewing. The idiot.

Besides, Suzanne hadn’t really offered Blake
up for money purposes. She’d actually used her brain for once when
it came to Rich. Blake would be the perfect bait to draw her to the
house with her big, burly Secret Service agent man following and
wham-o. Rich would be toast, caught beating his wife and high on
drugs as an added bonus. She knew he had a meth stash in his duffle
bag. They could probably get him for dealing, he had that much on
him.

Suzanne would have to explain about Amber
Bentley’s untimely death but she could handle that. She was tired
of running and anything was better than having Rich torture
her.

“You need to get little miss VP out here and
soon.” He jabbed a bony finger in Suzanne’s shoulder, making her
wince. “I’m ready to get off this shit island and you’re coming
with me. We need money. A lot of money to get out of here.”

“I don’t want to go,” she said but he
smacked her alongside the head, shutting her up.

“You’re going. You’re
my
wife.
Wherever I am, you are. You got away once.” She peeked from beneath
her arm again, saw the arrogant smirk on Joe’s face. “You try to
get away from me again, and I guarantee you’ll never see the light
of day.”

She said nothing and he laughed.

“You know, Amber honey, I always said you
were too stupid for your own good, but finally you came across a
goldmine.” Rich grabbed another beer from the opened twelve-pack
that sat next to the couch and cracked it open. “Making friends
with the vice president’s daughter, unbelievable I say.”

“She really is my friend.” Suzanne’s voice
trembled and she cleared her throat. Rich made her feel so weak and
she hated that.

“Who’d want to be friends with you anyway?
That’s what I don’t get.” He tipped the can to his lips and drank.
“We’ll find out for sure tomorrow, right Amber? And once you get
your la-de-da friend over here, I’ll put my plan into action.”

“What plan?” She almost didn’t want to hear
it, though she needed to. She needed to prepare.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.
I can’t trust you as far as I can throw you so I’m not telling you
shit.”

Grabbing her by the arm, he hauled her to
her feet and shoved his face in hers. The stench of cheap beer
tainted his breath and she wrinkled her nose, wishing she could run
away, far away from this mess her life had suddenly become.

“Let’s go back to the bedroom,
Amber.
You have some wifely duties to take care of.”

Oh, God. She didn’t know she had it in
her.

She didn’t know if she could take it.

* * * *

Blake stepped under the hot spray of the
shower to rinse the conditioner from her hair. She’d fled from
Mason’s simple touch earlier, unable to take it any longer. His
words had confused her as had his questions.

He wanted to be with her and give her what
she wanted, yet he couldn’t? It didn’t make sense. What stopped
him? Was it her, who she was? Or was it his responsibility to her?
His fear over losing his job?

As usual, he’d given her no answer. So she
hid away in the shower, unsure if he would join her tonight in her
bed.

Even through the confusion and the sadness,
she still wanted him. Wanted to savor his body for as many days as
she could before their time here ended. Why deny her body so much
pleasure, even if her heart ached with their every joining?

Oh, she was being dramatic. She needed to
get out of this shower, go back out there and attack him.

Mmm, it would be better if he joined her in
the shower. Anticipation curled through her and she imagined what
she would do if he showed up at this very moment. Stripped and
ready, his eyes would flash with heat when he saw her naked, wet
body.

Her nipples hardened at the thought, her
imagination running wild. Letting her hands fall, she settled them
on her breasts, cupping them, rubbing her nipples with her thumbs.
Slick heat grew between her legs and she closed her eyes, tilting
her head back further under the cascading water.

As if she conjured him from her thoughts,
she opened her eyes and there he stood, clutching the edge of the
open shower door. Still fully dressed, his hot gaze roved over her
naked form, lingering on her backside. She faced him, giving him a
better view.

“Care to join me?” she invited, smoothing
the hair away from her face.

He visibly swallowed, she saw the bob of his
Adam’s apple and he nodded slowly. “If you’ll have me.”

She’d have him every which way she could for
the rest of her life if he’d let her. “Take your clothes off
then.”

Stepping back, he undressed with
unmistakable urgency. She trembled in anticipation, though they’d
done this before. Shower together, washing each other’s bodies, too
aroused to resist the magnetic pull between them for long. He’d
press her back against the cold tile, the warmth of his body
holding her up while he filled her with his thick cock.

She wanted to do that again. Tonight.

Naked in record time, he entered the shower,
his presence overwhelming the small space, crowding her in the most
delicious way. The water hit him square in the chest and he dipped
his head, soaking it under the hot spray of water before he stepped
away, pushing his damp hair from his face.

He blinked down at her, the dark lashes
surrounding his green eyes sparkling with tiny droplets, rivulets
of water running down his face and neck, onto his chest.

She wanted to lick up every little path of
water. Wanted to taste Mason’s musky skin, make him moan with every
stroke of her tongue. Giving in to her urge, she reached out and
ran her hands down his chest, across his stomach. He stood there,
taking it, his mouth tight, his jaw clenched.

“I’m glad you came,” she murmured. Her gaze
stayed locked with his when she took a step closer, her tongue
darting out to lick at his distended nipple.

His eyelids fluttered and she licked again,
lingering this time and she swore she felt the bit of flesh grow
beneath her tongue. The unmistakable length of his erection nudged
her belly and she glanced down, admiring him with eager, hungry
eyes.

“I had to.” The simple statement was all she
needed to hear. Her heart sang, exhilarated that he felt this
connection between them too. And that he couldn’t deny it any
longer.

Sliding down onto her knees she took him in
her grasp, her fingers wrapped around him and he groaned, leaning
against the tile wall. She gripped him hard, harder and he jerked
in her hand, a little drop of clear liquid forming in the slit of
his cock.