Chapter 6
Chapter Six
You don’t want to fuck with me.
Violet yanked back her poking finger.
I do. That—that wasn’t what she’d meant. She didn’t want to actually fuck him.
Liar, liar.
She wanted?—
His hands curled around her shoulders. “You’re out of your league.”
A league that involved hunting killers? Yes, probably. Way out. A million times out. But she was also not going to just sit around and wait for the bad guy to come after her again. Being afraid every moment wasn’t cutting it for her. “I recognized Avalon when I saw her.”
His hold tightened.
“I read her books.” Back when she’d been a true crime addict. Back before she’d become a victim, and everything had changed. “I know what she’s done. I don’t have to call the police chief or anyone else in order to get verification on her.”
“You aren’t working with me.”
“Then I guess I will be making a trip to the police station so that I can reveal my miraculous memory turnaround.” Blackmail? Is that what she was doing? Maybe. No, definitely. She backed away, expecting him to release her.
He didn’t. He did haul her closer.
“You think this is a game?” His hazel eyes glittered down at her. “Women are dead. Go back to your brother’s house. Go back to the guards I have on you?—”
“You have guards on me?” Since when? Her mouth hung open in surprise.
“ Don’t play with me. ”
“Don’t you play with me!” Violet returned. “This is my life. Mine. He took me. He knocked me out. He tossed me in that trunk. And I am the one who was going to get up close and personal with his knife.” Don’t think about the pictures. Don’t. “I want him caught. The cops don’t seem to be doing much. They think he’s just some stalker I picked up?—”
“He is a stalker.”
“A serial killer is far different from an ordinary stalker!”
“You’ll get hurt with me.”
A shiver skated over her body. “I think my best chance of not getting hurt is with you.”
They faced off. Her chest rose and fell too quickly. His mouth was inches from her own. She was far too conscious of what they’d been doing—right there, on that very desk—not too long ago. Her body felt too attuned to him. But her mind? It was splintering apart.
Avalon had tossed out that line about PTSD. And, dammit, Violet knew the other woman had been right. Her nightmares. Her night sweats. Her panic—yes, she knew exactly what she had.
She also knew that the way to face her fear? It was to track down the bastard who’d taken her. “You think he’s coming after me again.”
A grunt.
Was that a yes? She took it as one. “So you’re in my life now. We had our big dance earlier. Let’s cement things. Be seen very, very publicly from here on out. If he’s coming for me, then you stay close to me.” It was what Royal had suggested earlier. Where was the problem? Now, they’d just be working together. “While he thinks he’s closing in on me, you and I will close in on him.”
“You don’t want to play with me.” A growled warning. He finally let her go. Stepped back.
And she felt colder. “I don’t want to wind up like those women in your pictures. I want to stop him. I want to fight.”
“You’re fighting by blackmailing me?”
“That is such an ugly word.”
“It’s an ugly thing to do, sweetheart. Especially since I saved that sweet ass of yours.”
“Why did you?” The question blurted from her. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. Super grateful to be alive and breathing and not sliced into some horrible nightmare. Super. Grateful. But if you were there hunting him, why didn’t you just leave me in the trunk? And get him first?”
“Because I couldn’t be sure where he was on the property. I suspected he was there?—”
“How?” How had he known where to go?
“I suspected he was there,” Royal repeated. “But there was a whole lot of ground to cover. While I was hunting him, he could have circled back and taken you. Finished you. Leaving you on your own wasn’t an option.”
And now she was blackmailing her hero. What did that say about her?
“My rules,” he suddenly snapped.
Her brows shot up.
“You do what I say, when I say it. No questions. No protests.”
A lump rose in her throat. What am I doing? What am I thinking?
“And you swear—right here and now, you swear— that you will never reveal the truth about me to anyone. No matter what else I do, you’ll take my secrets to your grave.”
“That sounds super ominous,” she whispered.
“I’m an ominous kind of guy.” A half-smile teased his lips, and, yes, the faint smile somehow made him look ominous. “Do we have a deal? Or do you just want to run back to your safe life? I do have guards on you. They’re watching you from the shadows. Protecting you. They’ll keep doing that until I have the killer contained. I can end this for you. And you can have your life again and never have to look back.”
“We have a deal.” A fast retort from her. She shoved out her hand toward him. Weren’t they supposed to shake or something? People shook on deals.
That half-smile of his vanished in a blink. Royal frowned at her hand.
She wiggled her fingers. “I’ll keep your secrets. And you let me hunt with you.”
His gaze was still on her hand.
“I need this.” She did. More than she could say.
His fingers closed around her hand. Warmth shot through her, chasing away the growing chill that wanted to cling to her bones.
“Why aren’t you afraid of me?” he growled.
She stared into his eyes and told him the absolute truth. “I am. You terrify me.” But what she didn’t tell him? Despite her fear, she was drawn to him. Drawn to him more than she’d ever been to anyone else in her life. He was dark. He was dangerous.
And he called to something equally dark that she’d carefully buried deep inside herself.
He pulled her onto the dance floor. Bodies gyrated all around them. The lights rolled across the crowd. Concealing. Revealing. Concealing.
They wouldn’t be out there long. Just enough to get the point across.
Royal kept Violet pinned closely to his body. He could feel every delicate inch of her against him. His hold was possessive. Consuming. His left hand dropped to her ass, and when she jerked, he pulled her against him even more.
She knew they had to put on a show.
Would she break before the show was over? Run away?
His left hand stayed curled on her ass. His right slid under her chin. Tipped back her head.
Her friends were still there. The men. The women. Her friends watched. Strangers watched. There were always eyes in Punishment.
The lights overhead rolled once more. Concealing. Revealing.
He took her mouth. Drove his tongue past her plump lips and tasted her like the fucking starving lover he was supposed to pretend that he was.
No pretending necessary. He’d discovered that when it came to Violet, he was quite ravenous. The taste he’d had of her upstairs had only whet his appetite. He wanted more. He wanted his mouth on her hot, wet core. Wanted his tongue licking her clit. Wanted her scent around him. And her cries of pleasure ringing in his ears.
He wanted her completely naked.
He wanted to lift her up against him. Wrap her legs around him and take her as the lights rolled over them.
The music pounded. He did lift her up. How could he not? And her legs curled around him. He’d already ripped her panties away. She wore no underwear now. It would be so easy to plunge right into her.
To take and take.
“Violet?”
His head lifted. At first, he just stared at her. Wet lips. Red from his mouth.
The lights rolled. Concealing. Revealing.
“Violet, we’re leaving.”
He slowly lowered Violet until her feet touched the floor.
“Violet!”
Violet jerked, and her head angled toward the blonde who’d called her name. “Simone.”
Simone grabbed her arm and pulled Violet toward her. “We’re leaving.” Her suspicious gaze raked Royal.
He rolled back his shoulders. “Violet’s coming home with me.”
Simone’s jaw dropped. “Violet doesn’t go home with strangers!”
He smiled. The rolling lights caught his smile. “I’m not a stranger.”
“Yeah, you’re the rich asshole who paid ten grand to dance with her tonight. It was just to dance, dude. Violet isn’t for sale.” She tugged on Violet. “The group is leaving. Let’s go. ”
“I’m all right.” Violet’s soft voice. “Thanks for checking on me. But I’m good.”
Simone shook her head. “No, you’re not—not if you’re going home with some?—”
“His name is Royal. And I’m safe with him. He’s not a stranger.”
Simone glanced between the two of them. “What is happening right now?”
Royal pulled Violet back toward him. “I’m glad that you were looking after her, but I have Violet now. You heard her. She’s safe with me.”
“Buddy, I don’t know you?—”
“It’s his club,” Violet blurted. “He owns it. This is Royal’s place.”
That didn’t seem to reassure the other woman.
“He’ll make certain I get home all right,” Violet added.
“Absolutely,” Royal murmured. Though it had been very good to learn that Violet didn’t go home with strangers. I don’t want her going home with any bastard but me.
When it came to Violet, his feelings weren’t exactly rational. Not that he’d ever been an overly rational sort. Too close to the edge, too aware of a dark need inside, he’d spent most of his life pretending to be someone he wasn’t.
Even the night he’d found her…
I pretended to be a savior. But I wasn’t.
Violet hugged her friend. “I’ll see you at rehearsal tomorrow.”
Simone still didn’t look reassured.
But the groundwork had been laid. When the other dancers left, Royal made sure to exit the building with Violet, too. He’d already ordered his car brought around. The convertible Benz was waiting, with one of his bouncers standing guard beside it.
Simone watched them approach the car. The jerk who’d tried to offer Violet the glowing shot glass earlier watched them.
Royal opened the passenger side door for Violet. She frowned at the car but didn’t speak. He made sure she was buckled before slowly making his way to the driver’s side. He tossed a wave to the people staring so intently at them.
Then a few moments later, he pulled the convertible away from the curb. “I don’t think your friends like me.”
“I don’t think you care.”
He didn’t. Guilty as charged.
“This isn’t the same car you used before.”
Nope. It wasn’t. The other car couldn’t easily be traced to him. Something he’d learned from Beau over the years…cover your ass. Having a few dummy corporations set up and ensuring that lots of red tape secured your world? Oh, that could be priceless.
The convertible glided through the streets. He kept the top down, and the stars glittered overhead. They didn’t speak again. Not until they pulled up on the short driveway that led to her rental house. The house was dark. Waiting.
The lights from his Benz lit the scene.
The engine growled.
“Thanks for the ride,” she said. “And I hope that I, uh, put on a good enough show for you.”
“You were perfect.” He killed the engine. Unhooked his seat belt.
She’d already unhooked hers and was shoving open the door.
He shoved open his, too.
“You don’t have to walk me up. I’ve got this.”
He smiled. His new partner had so very much to learn.
When she walked away from the car, so did he. A quick press of a button had the top lifting and settling back into place. The lights flashed when he set the alarm.
“Royal?”
“You wanted to be partners.”
She paused in front of his car. “Yes.”
“You wanted to be close to me.” He moved, deliberately coming close to her.
“Yes.” Soft.
“Then I will be close. If we’re setting the scene, if I’m suddenly the hookup you can’t resist, then I will be staying the night with you.”
Her lips parted.
How could she look so innocent and so sexy at the same time? A freaking gift. Or a trick. Maybe both.
“I don’t remember inviting you to stay the night.”
“I invited myself.” He looked away from her. Back at the dark house. “This is your first night here since the abduction. You really want to sleep all by yourself in this place?”
He wondered if she’d lie.
She didn’t.
“No.” Violet cleared her throat.
“I’ll take the couch. I can do good behavior. Sometimes.” His gaze cut back to her.
Only to find her focused on him. “I can’t figure you out.”
That was normal.
“But…yes, you can stay.” She brushed by him.
His soft laughter followed her. And so did he. As he watched her unlock the front door, he had to confess, “I think this is the least excited any woman has ever been to spend the night with me.”
Her head shot up, then whipped toward him.
“Most women are a bit more excited. Just saying.”
“Really not interested in hearing about them.”
Royal considered that statement. “Fair. I sure as shit wouldn’t want to know about the men who’ve spent the night here with you.”
“You’re the first.” She opened the door. The alarm beeped as she rushed over the threshold.
Taking his time, he followed her. He also made sure to shut and lock the door. He approved of the multitude of locks that had been installed. He should approve. After all, while Violet might think she’d been the one to hire the security crew, he’d actually been pulling strings. His people had shown up. They’d put in the system he’d ordered.
Probably not the time for him to mention that, after her attack, he’d purchased the rental from her previous landlord. Something to disclose on another day.
I needed to be able to keep watch on her. Someone had to look after her.
The alarm had stopped beeping. She stood by the control panel with her shoulders slightly hunched.
“You haven’t been in town that long. Didn’t find a man to date during that time, huh?” Why was he even asking the question?
“You’re the first,” she said again. “And that means exactly what it means.”
It sure as shit could not mean what he thought it meant.
She turned toward him. “Do you have any idea how many hours I have to spend in rehearsals? How many tours I do? How very little free time I have?” Her lips curled down. She’d flipped on the overhead light, and the illumination revealed her perfectly. “And do you have any idea what it’s like to be locked in a trunk and think that you’re going to die—and you realize there are so many things that you never, ever got to do? Because you were too busy. Or too afraid to put yourself out there.”
The drumming of his heartbeat seemed far too loud.
“Simone knows me well. I don’t hook up with strangers. I always thought that was too dangerous. And half the men who are around me each day, well, let’s just say that their interests often rest in other directions. I’ve had a hard time getting close…you are the first.”
Fucking fuck. “You should go to bed,” he rasped. She is telling me that she hasn’t had sex with anyone? I was the first one to put my mouth on her?
I’ll be the first to put my dick in her?
How the hell had this happened?
And how was he supposed to keep control? “Go to bed.” A rougher order. “I’ll…take the couch.”
She pivoted away from him. Punched in a code. Set the alarm on STAY. “Does that change things?”
It changes everything.
She straightened her shoulders. Turned to him once more. “Want me less now?”
“That wouldn’t ever be possible.” He could never want her less. The longer he knew her, the more he wanted her.
She slid off her shoes. Held the straps with one hand. Became even smaller. More delicate. He closed in on her because he was helpless not to do so.
“Some men prefer women with more experience.”
He wanted to fuck her right there. “Some women prefer a guy who doesn’t have blood on his hands.”
She looked at his hands. “I don’t see blood.”
“Then you’re not looking closely enough.” Her scent teased him. “It’s late. You’ve already made your deal with the devil for the night. Go to bed. I’ll keep watch.”
“People will see your car in the morning. My neighbors will think we slept together.”
“That’s the point. Any reporters come around, wanting gossip on you, they’ll find out you have a guy who likes to stay with you. You aren’t alone.”
Her breath shuddered out. “The other dancers will say it’s too fast. That this isn’t the way I operate.”
“Let them say whatever the hell they want. You’ll say I couldn’t keep my hands off you.” And it was hard. All he wanted to do was put his hands on her right then. “You’ll tell the world that you liked them on you.”
She stared at him.
How many times would he need to say the words? “Go to bed.” Before I lose the little bit of control I have remaining.
Her head moved in a barely perceptible nod. She brushed past him. He inhaled, pulling in more of her scent. It was a one-story house. He already knew the layout perfectly. Two bedrooms waited down the hallway. Hers was on the right. The smaller room on the left? She’d made that into her workout room.
She started down the narrow hallway. Then paused. “I do.”
“You do what?”
“Like your hands on me.”
Sonofa—
“Good night, Royal.”
And she walked away.
She wasn’t alone.
The Benz was in her driveway. Sitting there like it belonged. The house was dark. It was nearing three a.m.
She wasn’t alone.
Anger built and twisted. Violet Murphy shouldn’t be going back to her perfect life. She shouldn’t be making headlines. Shouldn’t be dancing as the star of the show.
She shouldn’t have a life.
Not now.
She’d been taken. Everything would have been different. She’d been meant for other things.
Only now…
Violet isn’t alone.
The watcher shuffled closer. Large, decorative stones edged the drive. Supposed to be pretty landscape work. Fuck that.
Fuck. That.
The stones could be perfect weapons.
What in the holy hell was he supposed to do with a virgin? An actual virgin of all things?
Keep your hands off her. That was probably a good start. And, maybe, maybe that would have worked except…
His hands had already been on her. His mouth on her. And the idea that no one else had taught her just how very wicked and consuming pleasure could be?—
The shriek of an alarm and a loud crunch had Royal lunging upright. He’d been stretching out on her piss-poor excuse of a couch, with his legs dangling off the edge, but at that sound, he leapt up and off the couch. He’d stripped off his shirt and ditched his shoes and socks. He’d kept on his pants and the boxers.
With adrenaline pumping through him, Royal rushed for the door just as Violet came running down the hallway. All of the lights were off, but he saw her shadowy form. He reached out before she could get to the front door, and he locked his arm around her midsection. He pulled her up against him. Felt the soft silk of her pajamas brush over his chest.
“Don’t even think of running out there,” he breathed against her ear. “Someone set off my car alarm.”
She shivered against him.
“I’m checking things. You are staying here. ” He let her go. He also paused to retrieve his gun.
“ Where in the world did you get that?” A startled whisper.
Probably not the time to mention he’d had the weapon on him the entire night. He was armed. The gun had been strapped to his ankle. When he’d lounged on her uncomfortable-ass couch, he’d tucked it close by. Now he gripped the weapon like the old friend that it was and advanced toward her window as?—
Something hurtled at the window. Glass broke, splintering into a thousand pieces, and this time, her home alarm started blaring. A loud, piercing cry.
Sonofabitch.