Chapter 14
The front door slammed so loudly she jumped. She didn’t dare look at Jason or Conner. At least Hampton had stopped moaning and asking for a doctor. He hadn’t wanted the ice pack she’d offered. She took heart that they were in Blade’s office and not in the room across from the command center. She didn’t like to remember the men converging on her and Hampton, swarming the car. She’d thought the driver of the rented limo would faint.
Blade’s office door opened and slammed. Rio stood there, vibrating with anger. He went straight to her. “Why?” he snapped out.
She looked past the eelskin boots, sinfully tight blue jeans, chambray blue shirt stretched over a toned and muscled chest, square chin, slightly bent nose, and high cheekbones to piercing black eyes snapping her with rage. She made herself unclamp her hands. “I thought I could get information from him more easily, and I was right. His requests are connected to Tennyson.”
Rio’s hands fisted. “At what expense?”
“He never touched—”
He struck so fast she didn’t see him reach for her. One second she was in her seat. The next her feet were dangling off the floor and she was eye level with Rio. “I’m saying this once. Don’t you ever put yourself in harm’s way again. Understand?”
She tried to think of some witty comeback, but it was difficult when nerves were jumping in her stomach. “Yes.”
For a long moment, he just stared at her as if trying to decide whether he should shake her or turn her over his knee. “I’ll let you handle it from now on.”
If anything, his gaze intensified. He didn’t believe her. His eyes shut. He clasped her tightly in his arms. She felt him trembling. She’d frightened him. Despite his men being there, she hugged him, swept her hand over his head, his back. “I was never in any danger. Conner and Jason were there in seconds. You know he wouldn’t have passed through security with a weapon. I—”
“Skylar.”
She shut her mouth and just held him until the trembling lessened. She hadn’t meant to scare him.
He pushed her away from him and sat her gently on the seat. After taking a few breaths, he pinned Conner and then Jason with a look. She was sure they would talk later. She’d have to do something to make it up to them—if possible.
Rio walked to Hampton, his steps slow and predatory. The picture of a large cat stalking its pray leaped into her mind. He didn’t have to hurry; the intended target knew he couldn’t get away.
Apparently Hampton had the same impression. He leaned back in the chair, his eyes bugging. The poor man was terrified.
“Rio—”
His gaze pinned Skylar to the chair. She snapped her mouth shut. She’d pushed Rio as far as he was going to let her. She crossed her legs and clasped her hands in her lap. Hampton was on his own.
“Try to harm her again, and I’ll come after you. Hard.”
Hampton gulped, mopped his perspiring forehead. “I wasn’t going to hurt her. I have a daughter her age. I—I just wanted her to listen and understand that she couldn’t…” His voice trailed off. His head lowered.
“Couldn’t what?”
Hampton shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
“Not good enough.” Rio struck, lifting the man by his shirt collar with one hand. “You talk, or we’re going to go someplace and have a private conversation and you’ll beg to tell me everything I want to know.”
The man clawed at his throat. Rio released him. He fell back in the chair, almost toppling it. He gasped for breath.
“I’m not a patient man, Hampton. You have three seconds to tell me all you know about Tennyson and why it’s so important for him to attend the auction or you and I are going to take a little walk,” Rio told him.
“I don’t know.” Hampton looked near tears. “I barely know Tennyson. I was at the club about a month ago and it was mentioned that I’d received an invitation to the Navarone auction benefiting the Music Department of St. John’s College. He was there and asked if he might come with me.” He looked wildly at Rio. “I told him it wasn’t possible. He seemed to take it well and invited me to his home the next night. My wife was out of town, so I went.”
He put his head in his hands. “We were drinking. There were women there, but I swear I don’t remember being in a bedroom with one. I love my wife. Tennyson has pictures of me and this woman. He’s threatened to send them to the newspaper unless I get him an invitation.”
Hampton’s head lifted. “My daughter is getting married in December to Senator Williams’s son. My wife is not in good health. The board of directors aren’t pleased with me as it is. The scandal would be financially and emotionally devastating for my family.” He looked at Skylar. “I was desperate. If he doesn’t get the invitation he’ll release the photos.”
“Why is it so important to him?” Rio asked.
“I don’t know. I swear I don’t know.” Hampton put his head in his head again. “He’ll ruin me.”
“If you don’t grow a backbone, he will,” Rio snapped. “Go to the police. In Chicago, your name carries more weight than his. Tell them what happened and Tennyson’s attempt to blackmail you.”
“I can’t. My family—”
“If they care about you, they’ll believe you. If you don’t go to the police, Tennyson will always hold those photos over your head,” Rio told the frightened man.
“You don’t understand. Some women aren’t as strong as others,” Hampton murmured.
“That’s where you’re wrong. If Skylar wasn’t strong, you’d be in a lot more trouble and pain by now.”
The man’s head snapped up. He swallowed.
Rio pulled out his cell phone and went to its photos. “Do you recognize this man?”
Hampton leaned forward to look at the picture, then shook his dark head and sat back. “No.”
“You’re free to leave. One of my men will drive you to the airport,” Rio told him. “When you get back, tell Tennyson you talked to me and the answer is still no. Don’t mention Ms. Dupree’s name in any way.”
“I can go?”
Rio leaned down to within inches of the man’s face. “I want you to think—who poses the biggest threat to you, Tennyson or me? Mess this up, involve Ms. Dupree, and there’ll be no place, not even hell, where you can hide. You won’t see me coming until it’s too late.”
Hampton’s hand went to his throat. Perspiration beaded on his forehead.
Rio straightened and stepped back. “Jason, take Hampton to the airport. Make sure you return his wallet and cell phone before he boards his plane. Got it?”
“Got it,” Jason answered.
Hampton slowly rose to his feet as if expecting Rio to change his mind or attack him. He carefully edged around Rio. Almost to the door, he stopped and looked at Skylar. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too. Why don’t you take your wife on a surprise holiday until the auction is over? Somewhere you both could relax,” Skylar suggested.
“I might just do that,” he said.
Jason opened the door and followed Hampton out, closing the door behind them.
“We’ll talk later, Conner.” Rio stared at Skylar. “And thanks for the phone call.”
Conner left quietly.
Skylar sat demurely in her chair. She wasn’t sure how much trouble she was in. Rio had his unreadable face on.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you this quiet for this length of time before,” Rio commented.
“I’m trying not to dig myself into a deeper hole,” she said truthfully.
Rio crossed the room to her. “Take his wife on a holiday after he attacked you.”
“He was scared and I did knee him, so we’re more than even,” she reasoned.
“Only you would think that way.” He stopped with his boot touching the toe of her four-inch heels. “When I received Conner’s initial call my cell was on vibrate, so he sent me a text about you meeting Hampton. I wanted to shake you. I instructed him to take you back inside and heard him curse.” His eyes narrowed to slits. “Those five seconds before he came back on the line were the longest of my life, only for him to tell me you’d been attacked.”
Skylar didn’t know what to say except, “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have you worried about me for anything.”
“I finally figured as much. Once my mind cleared, I realized you’d handled the situation well.”
She smiled, pleased beyond words.
“But don’t do it again,” he warned, his face hard.
“Anything you say.” She was forgiven. She’d try her best to stay out of trouble.
“I wish I could believe that. You fight for those you care about. You’ll always put their well-being ahead of your own.” His hands around her forearms, he tenderly lifted her to her feet. “You have strength and courage. You just need to temper it with caution and thought.”
“I was concerned you’d scare him.” She played with the button of his shirt. “I wanted to help.”
“You did, although you might have given me another gray hair.” He finally smiled.
She pretended to inspect his hair. “Nope. Not a one.”
“The day isn’t over yet,” he countered, and they both laughed.
“What was the photo you showed Hampton?” she asked.
“Stu Ryan, the man in your room,” Rio answered. “I went to town for his bail hearing. It was denied. There’s a warrant out for his arrest in Chicago. His lawyer is trying to fight extradition, but he’ll lose.”
“Another connection to Tennyson and Chicago,” she murmured.
“Exactly. Tennyson is tied to this in some way.” Rio frowned. “I just can’t figure out how.”
“You will.” She palmed his cheek. “What time are Sierra and Blade due back?”
“In a couple of hours, but they’re going straight to Mrs. Grayson’s house.”
She tucked her head. His strong fingers beneath her chin lifted it. “What?”
“I don’t think you’re going to like it.” In fact, she was sure of it.
His dark brow arched. “What did you do this time?”
“Your hair clip. I wore it today and Mrs. Grayson mentioned how beautiful it was in my hair.” His heart thudded beneath her hand. “I don’t think it was an idle comment.”
“Neither do I.”
“I’m not ready to get married and you’re not, either,” she quickly said, praying she was convincing. She’d marry Rio in a nanosecond. “Brandon is right about her perfect record being broken. We’re just enjoying each other.” She brushed her lips across his, ran the tip of her tongue over the seam of his mouth, hoping to convince him.
His mouth opened, deepening the kiss. His hand held her head as he slowly drove her to the edge of reason. The man certainly knew how to kiss.
“What kind of dress are you wearing for the auction?” he asked.
Skylar blinked and tried to clear her fuzzy head. She slid both arms around his neck. “It’s a secret, but it’s sinfully seductive.”
“That’s everything you wear,” was his comeback.
“Glad you noticed.” She ran her finger over the shell of his ear. “A woman has to use all the weapons at her disposal.”
He grunted. “During your defense training, did you learn how to use a gun?”
She realized there was a reason behind Rio’s questions. “Tracy wanted to learn, so I learned with her. I probably can’t break down one as fast, but I still should be pretty good with a handgun and a rifle.”
Rio glanced down at the V-neck violet-colored dress and sexy spiked heels. “Please go change into something more appropriate for the shooting range. I want to see how good you are.”
* * *
“Take your pick.” Rio shoved his hands toward an arsenal of pistols and revolvers. She’d never seen so many guns in person at one time except at the gun store. He was testing her again. It didn’t help that Conner, Jason, Henderson, and a few of Rio’s other men were at the shooting range as well.
Skylar folded her arms. “To do what?”
His expression didn’t change. “Defend yourself.”
She matched him look for look. “Against what?”
“The person trying to harm you.”
“In what situation?” she asked, then continued when his arms uncrossed. “Did he catch me unaware? Is the gun in my pocket? My purse? How many shots might I need to bring him down? The distance? Lighting?”
“Your gun is in an ankle holster. Lighting unknown. Distance close. If you’re good, only one shoot is needed,” he replied in a flat voice.
She snatched her arms to her sides. “Ankle holster? I can’t wear an ankle holster. My red strapless gown, created by one of the top designers in the country, I might add, stops just above my knees then cascades down in the back. An ankle holster is definitely out. It has to be on my thigh.”
“Which can be felt. And obvious when you’re lifting your dress—which you’re not going to do,” he said, his voice tight. “It also takes too much time. Whereas the ankle holster is undetectable. You can fake dropping something to reach for your weapon or pretend to faint. Even if your hands are bound you can still go for your gun.”
“It took me weeks to decide on a dress,” she told him.
Rio crossed his arms again.
He wouldn’t budge. The stubborn man. In the movies, it always looked easy, but this was real life. How many times had her uncle pointed out inconsistencies with actors firing weapons and the weapons themselves? “If I can’t find another dress I like, you’re in trouble.”
Rio didn’t seem the least bothered. She was caught between kicking him and laughing. Before she could get her foot up, he’d stop her. Her mouth twitched. “Good thing I kind of like you,” she whispered and turned to the guns.
“The SIG and Beretta are out. So is the Glock 17, although I kind of like the thirty-three-round expandable magazine—but where would I hide it.” She glanced over her shoulder and couldn’t tell if she’d impressed Rio or not. “No to the Heckler and Koch 795 semiautomatic that holds nine rounds, although it’s small enough at just five point four inches with a four-inch barrel. But I think I’ll go for the Guardian with the pearl handle. It’s smaller than the H and K, has a nice balance, no problems with misfiring.” She checked the chamber and placed the gun in front of her. “Safety goggles and earmuffs.”
“Drawer beneath the table,” Rio said.
“Thanks.” She put them on and picked up her pistol. “Let it rip.” The targets, male and female shapes, were moving. She hadn’t expected it to be easy. “Where should I put the bullets?”
“Anywhere you can,” Rio answered.
“I think the men deserve it right between their stubborn eyes.” In quick succession she placed the bullets dead center. “I’ll be lenient with the women since we have to put up with so much, er, crap.” They received shoulder wounds. Finished, she pulled off the goggles and earmuffs. “Uncle Joshua always required that we clean our weapons after shooting them. If you show me where, I’d be happy to do it. That is, unless you want me to shoot at something else?”
There was complete silence as they stared at each other. Finally, Rio took the weapon from her. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Is there any other demonstration you’d like?”
There were a few coughs from the men. Rio’s eyes narrowed just before he leaned over and whispered, “It’s a good thing I kind of like you, too.” Out loud he said, “I guess we all know who won this round.” He lifted Skylar’s hand. “The little warrior.”
His men cheered loudly. Skylar beamed.
* * *
“You’re full of surprises,” Rio said when they returned to the castle. “All good.”
“I’d thank you if I didn’t have to try to find another dress.” She sighed. “It really was beautiful.”
He stared at her. “Where is this designer?”
“Boston,” she answered.
“If you can reach him or her and they can meet us, I can fly you there in the small jet. You can sleep on the way back.”
“Rio.” Her lips trembled.
“You’ve been through a lot since you’ve been here.” His hand swept down her face. “You should least be able to wear a dress you like.”
“I have a better idea.” She glanced at her watch. “The dress was for you. Since Blade and Sierra aren’t returning until later, why don’t we have a cozy dinner in my room and I can wear the dress. You, of course, can keep on your jeans.”
“What about a dress for the auction?” he asked.
She stuck her tongue in the side of her cheek. “I was teasing you a bit. I brought three just in case one didn’t feel or look right. One is an emerald strapless ball gown that should meet with your approval.”
“You never cease to amaze me,” he said.
“That’s the idea.” She looped her arms around his neck. “I kind of figured you wouldn’t want a wimp for a girlfriend, so whenever I went home or got a chance, I tried to keep up my skills.”
He dropped a kiss on her nose. “You have skills all right, and not just in self-defense or with a gun.”
“Why, thank you.” She pulled her hands free. “Go do whatever it is you do. Dinner in one hour in my room. If you’re running late, just call.”
“I won’t be late.” With a short wave, he left the house with Skylar staring after him.
* * *
She stunned him with her beauty. He didn’t know how long he stood in the doorway just staring at her. Her shoulders were bare, her waist was cinched, and the gown showed off her great legs. “I’m kind of glad I’ll be the only one to see you in that dress.”
She ran to him, her long legs flashing. “Then all those weeks of searching were worth it.”
He lifted the box in his hand. “For you.”
Her eyes widened. She pulled the brown ribbon off the distinctively wrapped box and stared inside. “Truffle lollipops. I love truffles.”
He shrugged wide shoulders. “I saw them and thought about you always trying to feed me.”
“We’ll have them for our dessert.” She took his hand. “I had to decide between the table in front of the love seat or the chest at the foot of the bed and discovered that the chest top opens out.”
The desk chair and side chair were in front of the makeshift table set with crystal glasses, silver dome-covered plates, heavy flatware, the yellow rose, and five-arm candelabra.
“You went to a lot of trouble.”
“I enjoyed every second, just knowing we’d be together.” She motioned to a seat, then briefly tucked her head. “If I sat in your lap, I don’t think we’d finish the meal, and I’d really like this cleaned up before Sierra and Blade return.”
“Good thinking.” He pulled out her chair.
She took her seat and said grace after he was seated. Beneath the dome tops were sea scallops with mushrooms and spinach.
Rio took a bite and smiled his appreciation for the great-tasting food. “You cook like a chef, multitask with ease, shoot a gun and defend yourself like a pro, and pull off events like the auction with aplomb, all the while remaining caring and beautiful.”
“Thank you, but you’re the multitasker extraordinaire. You oversee the security of all of Navarone’s properties, plus his personal holdings. All the time emanating that dangerous mystique and looking gorgeous.”
Rio snorted. “Eat.”
“I will.” She sipped her sparkling cider. “I thought we’d listen to music and dance later.”
His fork poised in midair. “Dance?”
She smiled over the rim of her flute. “You know, where a man takes a woman in his arms and moves to the tempo of music.”
“I don’t dance.”
She leaned to within inches of his stoic face. “It’s easy. I’ll teach you.”
He went back to eating. “I didn’t say I didn’t know how.”
“Then why don’t you want to dance?” she persisted.
His gaze lanced up to hers. “It seems a waste of time.”
“Not if you do it right.” Getting up, she went to her iPad. Almost instantly, Johnny Mathis singing “Chances Are” came on. “It’s Grandfather and Grandmother Carrington’s favorite song. I grew up watching them dance to it.” She went to Rio and lifted her arms. “If you still think that way after the song is over, I won’t bother you again.”
He looked dubious, but placed his napkin on the table and took her into his arms. He heard her sigh an instant before she placed her head on his shoulder, softly humming to herself. He inhaled the orange blossom and honey rose fragrance she always wore. His cheek brushed against her silky hair; his arm held her slim body close to his. His blood began a slow throb. She felt good in his arms. She fit perfectly.
His hand swept upward to the smooth bare skin of her shoulders and her neck, and made lazy sweeping gestures. She stopped humming. Her breathing altered. She leaned her head back and stared up at him. He saw the same desire in her eyes that he felt coursing through him.
“I see what you meant.”
“I never doubted.”
He wanted to kiss her. Among other things. “You didn’t eat very much.”
The tip of her finger grazed his lower lip. “Food is the farthest thing from my mind at the moment.” Her eyes softened. “Just you.”
“Skylar.” His head lowered. He brushed his lips across hers, once, twice. Then, gently settling against them, his tongue slipped into her mouth to lap against hers. His fingers found the back zipper to her dress and drew it down. When it would go no farther, he moved slightly away and lifted her out of the dress. It pooled at her feet, his mouth still on hers.
She moaned. His breath shuddered as he felt the warm softness of her breasts pressed against his chest. Finally he lifted his head and stared down. His breath stalled.
She wore a gossamer lace bra that cupped her firm breasts, a garter belt over barely there panties, sheer stockings, and evening shoes the same color as her gown.
He tossed back the covers on the bed and placed her with her legs over the sides. With his eyes on her, he undressed. Finished, he leaned over her and kissed her quivering stomach, his teeth nipping at the top of her garter belt, his blunt-tipped fingers brushing over her breasts, her thighs, her woman’s softness.
She twisted beneath him, her hands clamped on the sheet. Pleasure swept through her body like a swift tide. All she could do was enjoy.
Undoing the front fasteners of her bra, he took one taut peak into his mouth and suckled. He rolled the other nipple between his fingers. He switched to the other breast, suckled, blew, gently tugged.
Her fingers fumbled until she removed his hair clamp; then she clasped him to her breast. After one last delicious flick of his agile tongue, his head began to move downward, his sinful lips nipping and kissing all the way. She whimpered when the garter belt and panties slid off her legs. He kissed her at the lowest point of her stomach.
She had a taste, a fragrance that he’d carry with him to his last moment on earth. Both were as unique as she was. Her pleasure became his pleasure as he lavished her with kisses, the slow movements of his hands, and the tantalizing brush of his hard body against hers.
Slipping on a condom, his feet planted firmly on the floor, he slid his hands under her hips and brought them together in one sure thrust. She lifted her hips, then came upward to wrap her arms around his neck and take his mouth in hungry desperation. He thrust again and again into her satin heat. She closed around him like a tight glove, meeting him thrust for thrust.
He loved her the only way he knew how, completely and with a searing passion only this woman could quench. A woman who had given to no other man what she had given him.
A possessiveness rose in him that he’d never experienced before as he took her body and she took his. This woman was his and only his. He felt a surety, as he held her sweat-dampened body and brought them together again and again, that she felt the same way.
He felt her body stiffen and took her cry of release into his mouth. Seconds later, he joined her. His breathing loud and labored, he gathered her to him and lay down with her in his arms, their faces inches apart. She was and would always be all that he desired.
After long moments, her sated, slumberous eyes flickered open. She smiled. “I think we just found our favorite love song.”