The Reunited

ELEVEN





"I thought we’d agreed you would stay in the room for a few more days. Rest. Eat.”

Dru stared at her reflection.

Her eyes looked weirdly bright, she thought. “Did we?” she murmured, reaching up to touch her lips with her free hand.

The other hand gripped the phone so hard, it was a wonder the plastic didn’t crack.

“Yes. We did.” There was no mistaking the anger lurking under Patrick’s voice.

“I’ve been resting for several days, Patrick. Eating rather well, too.” She lowered her hand and turned away from the mirror. Careful, she thought. She needed to be careful here. “And I appreciate the concern. But I was just ravenous for something different. I’d . . . well. It’s Friday and I’d hoped we could go out. I wanted to ask you to take me to eat at one of the Italian places in the park. I wanted to go to Il Mulino, but after you sent the tray, I figured you must have one of your meetings, so I just went into the park for pizza.” She paused and then added, “After all, I thought the best way to put the weight back on was by eating the foods that appeal to me.”

The long, tense silence on the other end of the line made it pretty damn clear she hadn’t done a damn thing to assuage his anger, but she hadn’t really expected to.

“And did you eat?”

“Yes.” She had. She’d actually eaten three damn pieces of pizza. Right before she’d met . . . No. Don’t think of him. If you think of him, you’ll think about that kiss. And you can’t do that—oh, that kiss. Cool it, Dru. Don’t let on like anything is up.

Bloody f*ck, if Patrick had any inkling that she’d been snogging a total stranger . . . he doesn’t feel like a stranger, though . . .

She needed to have her head examined.

“What else did you do?”

She laughed a little. “Oh, I walked around. Went into the stores, rode some rides. It’s been years since I went into the park.”

“Hmm. Did you use the credit cards I gave you?”

“Oh, no. I used some cash I had. I . . . well, silly of me perhaps, but I’m still not used to having you pay for things for me,” she said glibly. Looking to trip me up on something, are you, you prick?

“The reason I gave you the credit cards was so you would use them, Ella. Please keep that in mind. You’ll be my wife and I’ll be the one providing for you.”

She curled her lip, staring at her toes so none of the cameras he had in the room would catch the sneer that crept over her face. “Of course, Patrick. As I said, silly of me. I’m just so used to doing for myself and all that.”

“Something you need to get over.” He spoke to somebody else, his voice muffled. “I’ll be up to see you shortly. I’m glad your appetite is returning. Perhaps you’ll be a little less tiresome.”

Tiresome. She gripped the phone, clenched her jaw. Oh, she could show him tiresome.

“I can’t wait to see you,” she murmured.

But he’d already hung up the phone.

Hanging the receiver up, she lifted her head to stare into the mirror.

Tiresome . . . that was his code.

There was one thing she hadn’t been prepared for when she started this job. A job she was sacrificing everything for. Even her sense of pride, her self-worth.

She’d never planned on sleeping with him.

Nor would she have if she hadn’t realized just how messed up things were. At least she liked to think that. But after he’d raped her, things changed. It hadn’t been cruel, not compared to the way he’d treated many of the girls he sold—she knew that in brutal, stark clarity—but the son of a bitch had still ignored her when she said no. She hadn’t been able to fight him and make him stop the way she could have . . . not without making him question too many things.

It had come to down to two choices . . . lie there and just take it, or make him stop. But if she’d done that, it would have shattered everything. All the things she’d done would have been in vain.

She still had the shame, the anger tugging inside her. Even knowing she’d done the right thing, it had taken her weeks to be able to look herself in the eye. Now, she lived with that memory in her head. The next day, he’d informed her, “Hopefully you won’t always be so tiresome in bed, Ella.”

From then on out, even as the nausea twisted through her later, she made it her mission—she’d damn well not have the choice taken out of her hands. If she was going to have sex with the twat, she’d do it on her terms.

If that made her less in the eyes of some, so be it. But she’d rather have sex with the monster and be in control than be another one of his victims.

It wouldn’t last forever, either.

Sooner or later, it had to end, she told herself.

Sooner or later.

Sooner or later . . . but how much longer was that going to be?

* * *

HE was staying on the property.

Joss figured that little detail out about two hours later, after Mike had finally stopped trailing along after Alyssa Brascum.

Mike had managed to get her full name out of her, had flirted with all the girls in the group, had made buddies with the guys, and then disappeared, a nice, friendly sort of guy who had been killing time in between jobs.

That was the line he’d used.

Contract work. He did contract work and he was between jobs.

Nice way to describe stealing girls, Joss thought as he settled himself down in the shadows, staring toward the little cabin. All around him there were trees, and it was the best camouflage he could ask for. It wasn’t bad security there, and Sellers wasn’t exactly unaware. Still, neither the security nor Sellers was prepared for somebody like Joss.

As he shifted on the ground, back against a tree, he pulled out his phone, checked his e-mail. So far, no information back from Jones about this scumbag. Not promising, that. Could be somebody they didn’t know about.

Could be—

Heat . . .

Joss hissed out a breath as lust hit him square in the gut, hot and hard, like somebody had just shot him full of some seriously powerful aphrodisiacs. Blood drained straight down and his cock grew achingly full, hard, and his blood pounded hot in his veins.

And when he closed his eyes, concentrated, he could feel her. All but inside his head. The sensations were so intense, he could practically feel the slide of her skin against his . . . like she was there, and they were both stretched out, naked flesh on naked flesh.

“What the hell . . .”

But even as he muttered that question into the silent night, he knew.

She was thinking of him. Thinking hard and heavy. Thinking hot, dirty little thoughts and getting hotter, dirtier by the second.

When he closed his eyes, he could almost see her spread out beneath him. All night, he’d worked to keep that connection tenuously thin, all but ready to break, but now . . . now he threw everything he had into it and he could feel her. All but taste her arousal. All but hear the moans vibrating in her throat as she moved.

Could all but feel his own dick, plunging inside her . . .

Damn.

The woman had one killer imagination.

If he didn’t know better, he’d almost swear they were having sex . . .

* * *

IT was the only way to get through it.

Lying naked in the bed beside Patrick, eyes closed and her heart racing, she kept her face pressed against the pillow and hoped he’d just keep his bloody mouth shut until she managed to get her mind back together.

That had been . . .

Whoa.

It had almost been like he’d been inside her mind.

As long as she hadn’t opened her eyes and looked at Patrick. As long as she hadn’t opened her mouth and tried to kiss him. As long as she hadn’t breathed in his scent. Just keeping her focus on him . . . on Mr. Tall, Dark, and Sexy, a man she’d seen for all of thirty seconds before they decided to go and put their hands all over each other.

Tall, Dark, and Sexy, who felt like she’d known him all of her life. Tall, Dark, and Sexy, who had a mind that felt like . . . home . . .

All she’d done was think of him and those fantasies had flared to hot and vibrant life. It had made shagging Patrick much more tolerable, that was for certain, although it was definitely best that she hadn’t known Tall, Dark, and Sexy’s name.

Dru was quite certain she would have called her fiancé the wrong name. Not that she ever cried out his name during sex. He wasn’t much more than a vibrator she forced herself to use. But if she’d known Tall, Dark, and Sexy’s name . . . Well, that would be trouble, wouldn’t it? Patrick would have taken that rather personally.

If he really decided to unload on her . . . shit, what would she do then? Just sit there and take it? Break her cover and risk those girls?

Her heart rate slowly leveled out, but her mind continued to buzz and hum and she could still feel him, vibrating inside her head, and she was almost certain she could feel him pushing at her shields, like he was trying to come inside her head. Talk to her, or something. No. Can’t do that, she thought almost desperately.

Can’t have that at all.

Although it felt like she was cutting off her arm, she forced herself to break that connection with him. Floundering, cut adrift in a lake of her own misery, she couldn’t keep from shuddering.

Patrick stroked a hand down her back. “Are you cold?”

“Yes,” she lied, keeping her voice quiet.

He reached down and flicked a blanket over her, patting her ass. “That was rather nice. I’m almost tempted to stay the night so we can do it again.”

Get the f*ck out of here, Dru thought. She had to get her head back together. Soothe the ragged bits and pieces of her heart.

He rolled closer and pressed his lips to her shoulder. “You should have told me you wanted to go into the park so much. It’s a silly wish, but if you had that much fun, we’ll do it occasionally. When you’re good.”

This time, when he swatted her ass, it wasn’t gentle or playful. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from making a sound. “But don’t sneak around on me again, Ella. You’ll tell me the next time you wish to go and you’ll be escorted. Is that clear?”

“Of course.” You twat. She was going to bloody him. She really, really was.

“Wonderful. Now, I have to go. I have business yet to see to. I’ll use your shower before I go.” He kissed her shoulder again and then rolled out of bed, going to the bathroom to flush the condom he’d used.

She had a few precious minutes to herself. A few minutes to calm her breathing, to think about how much she hated him. A few minutes to get her anger under control.

When he came back out, she was sitting on the side of the bed, wearing a robe and waiting for him with one of Ella’s little smiles. Polite, demure, and empty.

Patrick looked pleased as he bent over to kiss her forehead. When his lips touched her forehead, she had to fight the urge not to recoil . . .

Flash, flash, flash.

New buyer . . .

Meeting . . .

She saw a place in his mind.

She knew that place.

It was one of the resorts. She’d been to all of them by now, having dinner at various restaurants, accompanying him on tours when he was showing business associates around.

This place was the one done up like a hunting lodge.

Dipping her chin, Dru swallowed the bile churning its way up her throat.

New buyer.

What the hell did that mean?

And she counted the seconds for him to leave. She had to get a message out. If her contact could get in there . . . damn it, was there even any time?

* * *

IT was a harsh shock when Dru ended the contact.

But it was needed.

Especially considering he had his hand wrapped around his dick and was more focused on jacking off than paying attention to his target. Hell. He hadn’t even realized he’d stood up. He’d been sitting with his back braced against a tree, staring at the little cabin.

Now he was standing there with his fly open.

He couldn’t think when his head was that full of her, and he looked down in a daze, realized almost ten minutes had passed without him even realizing it. Ten minutes while she’d fantasy-f*cked him.

He could all but taste her again. He was that tuned into her. Feel her body sliding against his. Her hands tangling in his hair—

Wait. That wasn’t right. He reached up, skimmed a hand back over his short hair. Not enough there to tangle a hand in. What the . . .

Squeezing his eyes closed, Joss tried to reestablish that connection, but all he managed was a surface connection. Faint, just enough to let him pick up on anger. She was pissed about something. Still dazed. And trying hard to keep him out . . . which made him realize she was very aware of him.

Closing his eyes, he readjusted himself, zipping his jeans back up and groaning as his aching cock twitched against the heavy confines of the denim. This was seriously f*cked up. He had a job to do. He hadn’t ever had anything interfere with a job before, and he couldn’t afford to let it start happening now.

Just thinking about the job served as a bucket of ice water. Setting his jaw, he stared at the little cabin visible through the trees. He needed to get inside. He was going to have a chat with that son of a bitch.

Nothing like thinking about a serial rapist to get his mind where it needed to be.

Time to get to work.