Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Her lips curled. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
What. In. The. Hell? He shook his head. What in the hell am I supposed to do with you, Violet Murphy?
“Because I want to fuck you, Royal. And I don’t care if it’s right or wrong or anything and everything in between. I want you.” Then she surprised the hell out of him—even more. Her hand slid between their bodies. Skated down his chest. Down his stomach. And her fingers pressed to the heavy erection that thrust against the front of his pants.
“Violet.”
“I want to go down on you. You tasted me. I want to taste you.”
He had to close his eyes and breathe. Because the visual that just flooded his head was too incredible. Violet, on her knees before him.
Oh, hell, yes.
But the cops were in the building. Still talking to witnesses. Still checking the scene. Dancers rushed around the dark, back halls of the theater. Surely, he wouldn’t be so bad as to fuck her mouth with everyone so close…
“I think you’ll taste amazing.”
His eyes opened.
Yes, he was that bad. But he wouldn’t stop with just her mouth. You pushed too far. I will fuck you now, Violet. And if anyone hears you scream my name, then they will just know that you belong to me.
She blinked at him. “Is something wrong?”
Not at all. He backed up. Pulled her off the dressing table.
“Did I say something wrong?” Violet pushed.
They should be clear on one thing. Right now. “There is never anything wrong when it comes to you.”
She smiled at him. A smile that lit her golden eyes and almost made sanity return, but, nope…her mouth—on his dick. Then his dick in her hot, tight core?
Yes.
She started to lower onto her knees before him. “I’ve only done this once or twice,” she began.
“ Fucking kill them.”
Violet froze. “Royal?”
He unclenched his teeth with an extreme effort. “Don’t talk about them.” Sure as shit not now.
“I just meant that I’m not sure I’ll do it right.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’ll do everything right. Didn’t I just tell you?” And he bent. His lips brushed over hers. “ There is no wrong when it comes to you.” He straightened and stared down at her. Want her. Need her.
Her smile came again. Her knees hit the floor. Her fingers went to the front of his pants. She unhooked the belt. Undid the snap. Lowered the zipper.
His eager dick surged right toward her. No underwear. He hadn’t bothered with boxers that day when he’d rushed home to change. Her fingers curled around him. Hesitant. Soft. He thrust into her grip, and she tightened her hold. Squeezed him. Pumped. Moving uncertainly from the base of his cock to the tip. Then again. Again.
His hands slammed down onto the dressing table behind her. He couldn’t touch her in that instance. He was afraid his hold would be too rough.
Her mouth opened over the tip of his cock.
He almost shattered the edge of the dressing table.
She retreated a bit. Her breath fluttered over his dick. Then she came back in. Her tongue licked over him, sampling him like he was a freaking popsicle and she was lost on a hot day, and a growl tore from him.
Want in her. Need in her. Want. Her.
Her mouth took him in deeper.
His grip tightened even more on that dressing table. And he?—
Heard voices. Just beyond her door. Out in the hall. Coming closer.
Not again.
“Sweetheart…” He pulled her up. Regretfully. “People are close…”
A hard knock sounded at the door. And some SOB rattled the doorknob.
She stared up at him. Lips swollen. Gaze dazed. Absolutely fuckable.
“Locked the door this time,” he muttered. Like he hadn’t learned from his previous mistake.
Awareness flooded into her eyes even as heat flooded her cheeks.
He tucked his dick back in his pants. Dammit. “We’ll finish that soon.” His gaze swept over her. Perfection. He swung for the door. Marched forward angrily because that jerk was still rattling the doorknob.
Then…
“Violet!”
Micah’s voice. Color Royal shocked.
“We have to talk,” Micah continued loudly, his words followed by another demanding knock. “We have to talk immediately !”
Royal yanked open the door.
Micah’s hand was poised to pound against the door once more. “Oh.”
Royal tilted his head.
“I…thought you had left.”
Then you thought wrong. “Told you already, I’ll be with Violet from now on.” Until I’m sure she’s safe, I’ll be her shadow.
“Don’t you, ah, have businesses to run?”
“Quite a few of them, actually, thanks for your concern.” This prick has been investigating me . The “billionaire bodyguard” line had told Royal that Micah had been looking into his life. Fair enough. I’m looking into your world, too, asshole. “But I know how to delegate, and I have people I trust who can manage things for me.” He lifted a brow. “There a particular reason you are bothering me and Violet right now?”
“I, uh…” His gaze tried to dart around Royal so he could land on Violet. “I was worried.”
“Were you?” Royal knew he sounded doubting.
“Violet has been through some very unsettling incidents.”
Royal grunted. Do tell, asshole.
“I have a friend who is a shrink. Dr. Leo Barnes. I thought she might want to talk to him.” His head craned more. “Violet, I’ve known Leo for ages. He can help you. I took the liberty of calling him a few moments ago, and he said that he’d be happy to talk with you today.”
Royal heard the rustle of her steps. “I’m not talking to him.”
“Why not?” Surprise flashed on Micah’s face. “You need him! I noticed you were already shaking when you got into the coffin, and after what happened—look, I need you to be able to handle the show. I get that Simone is your understudy, but she isn’t you. The tickets are selling because people want to see you. And I need to know that you won’t leave me hanging when the show is ready to start.”
Her soft steps padded closer. She touched Royal’s arm, and he stepped to the side. But stayed close. “I am not going to leave you hanging.” Her chin lifted. “I will be ready for the show.”
“You should meet with Leo,” Micah urged her. “He’s good. Hell, half the dancers in the show see him already.”
“Thanks for your concern.” Violet inclined her head toward him. “But I have other plans for today.”
“Here.” Micah grabbed her hand. “This is his card. In case you change your mind.” He dropped her hand a moment later, as if he’d just been scalded. His gaze skittered toward Royal. “FYI, big guy, one of the cops was asking for you. Thought you’d left but, ah, guess not? Detective…Curran Barlow, I think it was? He asked for you, specifically.”
Good to know. “Come on, Violet.”
“I need to talk more with Violet!” Micah protested.
Okay, this jackass was just getting on his nerves. “Then talk.” He felt Violet put her hand in his. Automatically, his fingers curled around hers. A glance toward her showed Violet’s cheeks were still flaming. Her lips so plump.
And when he turned back to Micah, he realized the guy understood that he’d interrupted at a very bad time.
And Micah looked pissed.
You won’t have her, bastard. Get over it.
“I truly regret that you were frightened today,” Micah said stiffly.
“Yes, I regret that, too,” Violet returned, a little bite coming back to her voice. Royal really liked her bite.
“We’re going to get the coffin repaired.”
Royal tensed. They were going to put her back into that glass hell?
“Something happened to the lock—I don’t know what. But we’ll make sure all the kinks are worked out before showtime. You know there are always a few mishaps before the big show.”
“Mishaps,” Royal tasted the word. “Your leading lady often nearly gets killed?”
“No!” A fast denial. “This is very unusual. You can rest assured that additional safety precautions will be put in place, I promise.”
Royal didn’t trust the guy. Not at all.
“I’m afraid word leaked to the press. Probably because of the patrol cars that came rushing to the scene.” Micah winced. “They’re out front in force, so you probably want to slip out the back when you leave, Violet.”
She nodded. “My car was out back anyway.”
She wouldn’t be driving off in her car. He’d be taking her from the scene. And Royal would make arrangements for someone else to pick up her ride.
Micah looked for all the world as if he had something else to say, but the guy retreated. Finally. Royal watched him scurry away and then said, “I don’t really like him at all.”
“I can see that.” A pause. “You think he was involved, don’t you?”
“I think I’ll be finding out.” Why not put his cards on the table? He tugged her closer. “And, yeah, he’s at the top of my suspect list.”
Time to get her the hell out of there. Especially if a hungry pack of reporters had already closed in. Violet grabbed her bag, tucked the business card she’d been given inside, and they headed into the hallway. They maneuvered through the tight quarters and past some dancers, and Royal spotted Curran.
Detective Curran Barlow. A very new promotion.
Curran caught his eye and dipped his head in acknowledgement. He approached Royal slowly. His holster was attached to his right hip. With one quick glance, Curran took in Royal and Violet and the fact that Royal was still holding Violet’s hand.
Like he’d be letting her go anytime soon.
“Boudreaux,” Curran announced loudly. “Heard you were the big hero today.”
“Hardly,” Royal dismissed.
“Yes, he was,” Violet declared, voice adamant. “Royal got me out of the coffin just in time.”
“So glad he could save the day.” Curran raked her with a speculative glance. “I know you spoke with some of the other officers here, but I haven’t gotten to interview you. It’s Violet Murphy, correct?”
“Yes.”
“I know you were at the station two weeks ago. I saw you, but you didn’t see me.” Curran stood just an inch or two shorter than Royal. Curran’s dark eyes were sharp. Assessing. “I’m the new detective on the block. They’re not exactly shoving high-profile cases like yours my way. They leave that to the seasoned guys. So when you were at the station reporting your abduction, I didn’t get to speak with you.”
Curran was a better detective than anyone else on that force, new guy or not. He should have been the one on Violet’s case.
“Then the Feds came in, of course. Since we were dealing with a kidnapping. Then it just turned into a pissing match between the local cops and the Bureau.” Curran’s tone was annoyed. “Waste of time.” A shake of his head. “I got called in today because it seemed to just be a situation involving some faulty equipment. Supervisors thought I’d be in and out.”
“Yet you’re still here,” Royal noted. Very much not in and out.
“I don’t think the situation is as simple as others may have believed.” Curran leaned closer. He pointed upward. “You could access the lights from the catwalk. I went up there. Wanted to take a look at things myself. Checked all the other lights. Very secure. Those babies wouldn’t come down, not unless you wanted them to fall.”
Royal understood exactly what Curran was saying. Someone wanted the light to fall. Someone wanted Violet to be hurt.
“Haven’t found any conclusive evidence yet,” Curran added. “But I’ve got some good crime scene techs checking every inch of the place. When I know more, you’ll know more.” He rubbed a hand along his jaw. “Heard there was an incident at your place last night, Violet.”
She nodded. “Someone broke the front windshield of Royal’s car and threw a big rock through my window.”
“You got any enemies?” Curran asked.
Her chin notched up. “Just the jerk who abducted me.”
Curran stared hard at Royal. “I’ll repeat the question for you, Royal. Got any enemies? Someone who might be looking to send you a message by targeting your girlfriend?”
Royal didn’t even blink.
But Violet surged in front of him. “Royal didn’t even know me when I was abducted. What happened to me is in no way linked to him. And as far as what happened at my place, it was my place. I think his car was hit just because he happened to be there with me. Then I was the one targeted today, not him. Royal saved me. Let me be very clear, none of this is on him.”
“Protective,” Curran noted softly.
“Yes,” Violet fired right back. “He is protective, and I appreciate?—”
“I meant you were protective of him. An admirable trait. One I am sure Royal enjoys very much.” Curran pursed his lips. “Did you see anyone suspicious around the coffin before you were sealed inside?”
“The only person around the coffin when I was put inside was Micah. He closed the lid.”
“Hmm.”
“But some of the stagehands brought it out. I’m sorry—I wasn’t paying attention then. I can’t tell you who they were.” She threw a glance over her shoulder at Royal. Then she looked back at the detective. “To be completely honest, plenty of people in the theater would have been able to get to the coffin. It was just stored in the prop area. So if someone did something to make the lock stick, it could have been…anyone.” Fear breathed in the last word.
Curran’s hard expression softened. “We’ll figure this out.”
She swallowed. “Showtime is coming up fast. We’re in final rehearsal stages. I would hate to think something else could happen. I-I don’t want another dancer hurt because someone is targeting me.”
“And I don’t want you hurt,” Royal told her. She was his focus. Her safety was key for him. He shared another long look with Curran, and he knew the detective understood his message.
Report to me. Find the bastard. I want him stopped.
Royal inclined his head. “I’m taking Violet back to my place. If you have other questions, you know where to reach us.”
Curran moved to the side, clearing the path so they could exit. But just as Royal and Violet passed him…
“One quick follow-up.” Curran cocked his head.
Hell.
“Just why were you here today, Royal? Don’t get me wrong, I’m certainly happy you were able to help Violet, but what brought you to the rehearsal?”
Royal slanted a glance at the detective. “She did. I?—”
“I invited Royal to the rehearsal,” Violet said quickly. “Last night, when we were together, I asked him to stop by. He was here because of me.”
Curran’s eyes gleamed. “Protective,” he repeated. No missing the hint of admiration. “Hold tightly to her.”
“I intend to.”
Get away. Get away. Get away.
All Violet wanted to do was break and run out of the theater. She didn’t want to talk to the cops. Didn’t want to chat with the dancers who milled around and told her just how horrifying the coffin scene had been to witness.
She wanted to run. She wanted to flee.
Instead, she had to walk slowly through the back corridors of the theater. She had to answer more questions. She had to pretend like she was not close to absolutely breaking apart on the inside.
I couldn’t get out.
Trapped.
Again.
Royal opened the theater’s back door. She hurried out. It was still daytime, and the sunlight spilled onto her. Violet blinked quickly and?—
“Violet!” A shout of her name that had her head jerking to the right.
“ Violet, was there another attack on you? ”
Then her head whipped to the left.
A swarm of people—reporters?—waited just beyond the rear stage door. Some were filming with phones. Some had bigger cameras. They all closed in.
She shuddered and backed up and ran straight into Royal’s powerful chest.
His arms immediately closed around her. “It’s all right,” he whispered into her ear. “I’ve got you.” And he did. His body curled protectively around hers, and he rushed forward with her. He was big and strong, and he shielded her completely.
The questions flew. The phones and cameras kept filming, but Royal didn’t stop. He got her to his car. Tucked her into the passenger seat of the Benz—a Benz with an already repaired windshield—and then, in seconds, he was in the driver’s seat beside her. The crowd jumped back as he reversed, and then Royal got them the hell out of there.
Her hands fisted in her lap. Micah had told her that the reporters had gotten wind of the story, but that… that had been a whole lot more than just a small contingency of local journalists.
“So much for them just being out front,” Royal groused.
She forced her hands to unclench. “I don’t get why there were so many of them.”
“Because your story was leaked, sweetheart. Someone tipped off the press, and if I had to guess, it’s that prick artistic director. He’s trying to sell more tickets by using you. You’re freaking PR gold to him. The dancer who was the tragic victim.”
She stiffened. I’m not just a victim.
“You got away, and now he’s selling tickets like mad. And I hate to tell you, but national outlets were already picking up the abduction story. Now with this attack…” A long exhale. “You will need to stay with me. Not just for tonight. The reporters are going to be hounding your steps. They want a story, and you’re the perfect, juicy lead.”
“Because I’m so…tragic.” A brittle note entered her voice.
He slowed at the stop sign. Turned his head toward her. “Because you’re beautiful. Because you’re breakable. Because people look into those big, golden eyes, and they want to help you. They want to fucking destroy anyone who hurts you. Rip the bastards apart and bury the remains so deep in the ground that no one will ever find them.”
Um, okay. She fiddled with her seatbelt. “I’m not sure that’s what most people would want to do for me.”
“Guess it’s just what I want to do for you.” A pause. “You just lied to a detective for me.”
She had. “You shouldn’t be a suspect. Lying seemed like the easiest way to get you cleared.”
“You sure about that?” His hands gripped the steering wheel easily as he turned and drove down the road on the left. “Maybe I came to the theater just to see my handiwork up close and personal. Maybe I wanted to rush in and save you because I want you to keep thinking I’m a hero. Perfect timing, don’t you agree?”
“That’s not funny.” Anger stirred in her. Adding to her already brewing batch of emotions. “Why are you trying to make me doubt you?”
“I don’t know.” Low. Muted. “Maybe because you’re the first one—other than my brother Beau—who has believed in me so much.” He cut her a glance. “Not real sure what to do with you. You know my deepest secrets. You could get me locked away at any time. Guess I’m trying to find out what your tipping point is. When will you turn on me?”
She sucked in a breath. “I’m not going to turn on you.”
He stared at the road again. “He’s not my blood brother. Not like with your family.”
Oh, shit. My family. Her brother Dawson would see the news. She fumbled with her phone.
“Beau’s past is a lot like my own. He’s the one constant I always had. He’s done his best to make sure I don’t go completely off the deep end and get lost in the dark.”
She stopped fumbling with the phone and focused on him. “You honestly think that could happen?” Then before he could answer, Violet shook her head. “I don’t. You have far too much control for something like that to occur.”
A red light stopped them. His head turned slowly toward her. He flashed a smile that sent a shiver chasing down her spine. “Don’t be too sure.”
But she was. For some reason, she felt completely sure of him. And… “I feel safe with you. When I was in that coffin and I looked up and you were there, I knew I’d be okay.”
His smile slowly slipped away. He stared into her eyes as if trying to figure out some big mystery. No need for that.
“I’m what you see,” she told him. “No secrets from me. I’ll tell you what I think and what I feel.”
“And what do you think and feel about me?”
So many things. “I feel all tangled up,” she answered him truthfully. “And I think you’re the bad guy and the good guy all wrapped up in one package.”
“Wrapped up in a bow,” he murmured.
She thought of the killers he’d stopped. Left with bows around their necks.
Violet swallowed. “Part of me does fear you, but a bigger part of me feels connected to you. Feels safe with you. Wants you. And I trust you. I know you’d have my back if things went to hell around us. I mean, you saved me when I was a complete stranger. Now you know me. And you’re still saving me.”
A horn sounded behind them.
“Maybe you’re saving me ,” he said.
She frowned. No, she hadn’t saved him. Not once. But if he needed her, she’d sure try her best.
He turned and faced the repaired windshield. No sign of the damage remained. Perfect glass.
Would it be so easy to repair the glass coffin?
Royal drove forward.
Violet sent off a quick text to her brother. Okay, so you’ll see a scary news story, but I promise, I am okay.
Three dots appeared. Then Dawson replied…
What. The. Hell?
Right. Her brother. Typical.
Another text fired from him: I’ve already seen one scary news story. I don’t want to see more. Violet, what is happening? Do you need me? Are you safe?
She bit her lip, then typed her response. Safe. Going to a friend’s house for the night. Do not worry about me.
Her phone rang three seconds later. Her finger swiped over the screen right before she put it to her ear.
“What news story?” her brother barked. “ And what friend? ”