The Lost Tycoon

Chapter Fifteen

“I should let you get some sleep.”

If humans could purr, that’s exactly what Misty would have been doing, purring as she rubbed her paws against his impressively solid chest. Though his heart was beating easily now, it had been pounding half an hour earlier.

“I’m exhausted, and my body couldn’t move if I wanted it to. But I can’t seem to sleep,” she murmured, fully relaxed, praying time would stop so she and Bryson could stay in this happy little bubble.

“Yeah, I know how you feel.” His arm tightened around her and he pulled her even closer as he continued long, lazy strokes down the curve of her back.

“Tell me about your childhood. Was it good? Did you like having a brother and sister?” She was trying to be coy, but Bryson wasn’t fooled. She was afraid to meet her brother. He was a complete stranger, though related to her by blood.

If Bryson could help ease her fears, he would.

“I love my family. Out where I’m from, it wasn’t so unusual to grow up in a large family where everyone actually loved each other, but I’ve been around the world enough now to really appreciate what I’ve always had.”

“I’m glad to hear that. It would break my heart if you didn’t appreciate them.”

Her words made him ache for her. He’d seen people in her situation many times over, but he’d never harbored such deep feelings for any of them. And that train of thought took any ideas of sleep away. Was he falling in love with this woman? He knew he was falling, but was it love?

He mulled that over in silence. Not only was he falling for her, and falling hard, but what really surprised him was that the realization aroused no fear. He’d heard people say that when a person found his or her other half, they just knew, and now he could understand what they were talking about.

Later. He would think more on this later. Right now, Misty was seeking reassurance, and she was looking for answers. He could do his best to give both to her.

“I was always close with my brother, who’s older, but our lives have drifted apart these days, since we rarely get to see each other. One thing we both have in common is our little sister. I told you she’s a dirt-bike racer. Well, it scares us both equally. Matter of fact, the last two times I’ve seen him is when we were at her races, making sure she was okay,” he said with a chuckle.

“What would you do, jump in and catch her?”

“I would trade places with her in a heartbeat if she were injured, and, yes, I would jump onto the course and catch her if I could. Luckily, she hasn’t had any terrible injuries. I know it sounds rotten, but I really hope she loses her passion for racing someday. I just…worry. I can’t have anything happen to her.”

“Does she get mad at you for interfering?”

“Yes and no. Only once did we have a big blowout fight about it. After that, I backed off…a little. And now she tolerates my nagging. She knows my concern is because I love her.”

“If I were her, and you were trying to get me to stop, I would think it was because you didn’t trust me,” Misty interjected.

“Really?” he asked, as if the thought had never crossed his mind. “Of course I trust her,” he said, as if any other option were ridiculous.

“Have you ever told her that?”

He was silent for a moment. “Well, I guess not.”

Could it be that Bryson still had a lot to learn about family? Even Misty knew trust was important, and she’d grown up with no one. Maybe she’d learned that lesson the hard way: by not having anyone in her life whom she could trust.

“I think I’m going to have to see her soon,” he said. Misty’s words really seemed to have mattered to him.

That made all sorts of warm feelings flow through her.

His fingers came around and he started to rub the sides of her breasts, sending sweet sensations through her sated body. His touch evoked such incredible responses that she didn’t think she would ever grow used to it. Maybe that was for the best. If she got too comfortable with it, it would hurt horrendously when it was gone.

“Should I meet Damien?” Here was the real question she’d been wanting to ask.

Bryson was happy she trusted him enough to value his opinion. “I think you should go when you’re ready.”

“They want me to come right away. Joseph left me a ticket. Two, actually,” she said shyly.

“Two?” he asked.

“Um, yeah. I told him about my situation. But he already knew!”

“I think Joseph Anderson knows more than most people,” Bryson said.

“Well, right before he left, he said the tickets were open-ended. I could come as soon as tomorrow, or in a week if I wanted. I said that I didn’t know if I could.”

“What did he say?”

“He was real quiet for a minute, and then said that I had Anderson blood in me and the calling of my family would be too strong to ignore.”

“Is he right?”

“I don’t know. I liked him. It was odd. I’ve never trusted someone that quickly, but I just felt…comfortable during our conversation, as if I just knew he didn’t want to hurt me. I don’t normally feel that way.”

“Yeah, I remember quite well that you don’t take kindly to strangers. You Tased me,” he said with a laugh.

“Sorry about that, Bryson.”

“I’m not. I got to lie on top of you.”

“That was an unusual first meeting…”

“So, Misty, do you want me to go with you?”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” she said, but he heard hope in her voice.


“I want to.” He wouldn’t push her, but he would be by her side, with or without an extra ticket.

He could tell she was undecided, so when she changed the subject, he didn’t hesitate to follow her lead.

“What made you decide to join the FBI?”

He considered her question for a moment. “I was in the Mideast, fighting in the war, and I saw so many things that could have been done differently. I’m not saying anyone was necessarily right or wrong, but I saw things no one should see. When I came home, it was the same thing here. So many victims. I got recruited, and I never looked back. This is just where I fit, where I belong.”

“Did you get wounded when you were fighting?” She hadn’t seen any scars, but then again, they also hadn’t had good lights — only the flickering candles.

“No. I was lucky. I lost some good friends, but I was never shot, or bombed. I have been shot once here in the States, though,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Where?” she gasped. “How can you speak so casually about being shot?”

“It wasn’t that big a deal.” He seemed uncomfortable all of a sudden.

“Getting shot is always a big deal,” she cried.

“I don’t know why I said that, ’cause I really don’t want to talk about it.”

Misty was crushed. He didn’t trust her. He didn’t want to open up about something that was obviously traumatic for him. “I shouldn’t have pushed,” she mumbled, and she pulled back a little.

“Hey! Don’t do that. It’s not that I don’t want to share. It’s just…well…embarrassing,” he finally admitted with a sigh.

“How could getting shot possibly be embarrassing?”

“I was shot in the ass,” he said with a groan.

Misty was stunned. Was he making this up? Teasing her? Who would make something like that up, though? Should she just drop it? Suddenly she felt a giggle in her throat and she clamped her teeth down on her lip — hard — so her amusement wouldn’t reveal itself.

“I can feel your chest shaking, you little wench,” he said, flipping her so fast onto her back that she lost her grip on her lip and her laughter spilled out.

“I’m so sorry,” she gasped. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Getting shot is so not funny,” she said between fits of laughter. “But your tush seems to be accident-prone.” She hadn’t forgotten about the dog story.

“Don’t worry; my colleague Axel, brother, sister, and everyone else I know has made a few butt jokes, or rather made me the butt of their jokes.”

When she was just about to pass out from lack of oxygen, a new gleam crept into his eyes, and her laughter died away. Oh, that was a look she was beginning to know.

One second she was giggling uncontrollably, and then the next, he was hard and inside her. “Oh,” she gasped. This was much better than laughter.

“I have ways of making you cooperate,” he said, then lowered his mouth to hers and took her remaining breath away.

Yes, any thoughts of laughter had evaporated — moaning had taken its place.