11. Amorette
AMORETTE
T wo hours after Parker watched me fall apart, I was still heated. I’d never been watched like that before, and I wasn’t sure if it was the shock, surprise, or a newfound kink, but I’d never come that hard.
I needed foundation makeup to cover up the blush if I was going to spend hours with him, and there was none here in my shade. Damn it.
Tossing the mascara into the drawer, I left the guest bedroom. I’d found another wrap dress and paired it with another set of small heels Grey had gotten for me. Except I felt silly walking out of here as red as a grape. It wasn’t attractive.
And the closer it got to Parker picking me up, the more flustered I grew. How was I supposed to look him in the eyes?
This was different from the warehouse. Those men seeing me naked, Randal assaulting me, it was all in a different compartment. They were pure evil and my anger at their deeds made the situation different.
The brothers had given me some semblance of normalcy again, and three of the four had seen me naked.
I sucked in a deep breath. This was ridiculous. Things like this didn’t matter to me.
But when I glanced down at his body…. he had been turned-on.
That was the issue.
I didn’t want Parker. He gave off too many frat boy vibes with a dash of sociopath. But there was something about being in the room with both Grey and Parker as they watched me…
I shivered.
“I don’t like this,” Grey sighed as he came up behind me and hugged me to his chest. Dropping my head back, I did my best to control my expression. There was, unfortunately, nothing I could do about the constant pink in my face.
“You’re sure you didn’t invite him in? You threatened it last night.”
He sneered, “I didn’t threaten. It was the heat of the moment.”
“We should have stopped when you let him in.” I tried to step away, but he squeezed me tighter.
“Like hell. He’s my brother. He’s seen people fucking before. It’s not a big deal.”
“Really?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “So if he would have joined—”
“Fuck no. You’re mine, and I don’t share.” Funny how he defined share .
A knock came at the door and Grey went to answer it.
When Parker appeared, he was dressed in a sleek black suit perfectly tailored to his body. Without my permission, my gaze skated down to his pants, then I turned around and closed my eyes. What the hell was wrong with me?
“You look fabulous tonight, Little Love,” Parker taunted.
“Fuck off.” I flipped the bird over my shoulder as I picked up my clutch off the couch. It was empty except for Chapstick and a parry knife from the kitchen that I’d slipped under the liner. I wanted to be armed in case something went wrong. Again.
“She comes back tonight, and do not fuck her.” Grey thought for a minute. “And don’t leave her to fuck anyone else because you have blue balls.”
Oh God. They were making this worse, talking about me like a blowup doll.
Parker cackled but sobered when I turned around, only a ghost of a smile lingering behind.
“I promise, Little Love is safe with me. I’m taking seven of my best men, and they’ll canvas the place.
They’re also all men with families on the island.
They know if they fuck up, they can kiss at least one family member goodbye. ”
My mouth dropped open in shock.
“Why would you threaten that?” I almost yelled.
“Why wouldn’t we?” Parker’s voice was dead serious, matching Grey’s expression. “In our world, people die for less. We don’t want to kill anyone, but sometimes, that’s the only motivation that ensures they do their jobs.”
“The men know us. They know the only way that would happen would be if they betrayed us or fucked up royally. At the end of the day, it’s an empty bluff because they’re good men.”
Good.
Their definition of good was so different from mine.
“Ready?” Parker held out his arm with a ghost of a smile.
At least I could count on that exchange for one thing. I was no longer flustered.
“Ready.” I ignored his arm and walked right past him. Grey caught me around the waist, and when I faced him, he softly kissed my lips. Why did he have to be so sweet when I knew he wasn’t? And why did they have to fight with Vicente when it could get them all killed?
“Come on, Little Love. There’s no more time for sexcapades. Well, the flight is a few hours.” He lightly grabbed the inside of my elbow to steer me away from Grey. When I glanced up at him, he winked at Grey with a smirk.
“I’m warning you, hermano .”
Parker chuckled under his breath as he let his fingers trail down my arm, linking his fingers through mine. I tugged my hand back. Holding hands with Parker was a big fucking no.
“I don’t bite, Little Love.” He grinned, keeping his face forward.
I scoffed and followed his lead, keeping my gaze on the path forward.
Outside of a few words as we got in the helicopter, we didn’t speak on the way there. The ride was beautiful as the sun was setting, and I took the time just to take it all in.
A smile broke out as I leaned over to see the ocean beneath us. Grace would love this. Maybe one day I could share it with her. Until then, I wouldn’t take these moments for granted.
I’d always known life was ugly. I saw it every day in law school, then when I joined the firm. Since I was taken, however, I learned just how ugly life could really be. And these small glimpses of how beautiful the world truly was, suffused warmth in my soul.
We landed on a pad in a private yard. Guards stood alongside it, watching us with severe frowns. I glanced at Parker to make sure nothing was amiss, though he didn’t seem worried in the slightest.
One of the men stepped forward, hovering around the door as we climbed out.
Immediately, his hands were roving over my body.
I guess I should be glad it was clinical and cold.
He snatched the clutch from my hand and looked inside.
He grunted, probably because he only saw the Chapstick and gave it back.
Holy shit, he didn’t find the knife. I glanced over to see another man doing the exact same thing to Parker.
The house, which was a very modest term for this monstrosity of a sprawling home, was set maybe a hundred feet away from the pad.
As the men were finishing up, another guy walked out onto the porch and watched us with a carefree smile and hands stuffed in his shorts.
He was the epitome of an island boy with his pastel button-down short-sleeve shirt and khaki shorts.
At first appearance, he seemed kind as his sandy brown hair lifted in the breeze. Parker placed his hand on the small of my back as his people fanned out around us and we started to move up the pristine boardwalk to the house.
The ocean crashed against the shore, the sound of the waves overshadowing everything else as we approached. Parker waited until we were at the base of the elaborate steps before greeting the host.
“Snow, it’s a pleasure. Although I thought you would have saved the frisking for a little more intimate setting,” Parker drawled. “I would have appreciated a nice dinner first.”
Snow—was that his real name?—chuckled. “My apologies, old friend. These days are strenuous for an old man like me. You can never be too careful.”
I tried not to let my skepticism show on my face. This man was forty max. Something was off here, and I didn’t know enough about anything to know what it was. Or if I was just being paranoid. I peeked at Parker to see if he felt something too. If he did, he didn’t show it.
“Understandable,” he shrugged, then nudged me forward. “Snow, this is my friend…” he hesitated like he forgot he might actually have to introduce me to anyone. “Amorette. Amorette, meet Braden Snow. The very best in his field.”
I almost asked what his field was, but I didn’t. With Snow riveted with our interaction, he would see my question for what it was. Naivety. If Parker hadn’t shared what he did, then why was I here? At least, that was what I would be thinking.
Parker winked at me like he knew the exact path my thoughts had taken.
“Come in. Dinner is being served, and there are some things to discuss.” Snow pivoted on his heel and led the way inside, all the while keeping his nonchalant composure and never once taking his hands out of his pockets.
The inside of his house was just as mesmerizing as the outside.
All cool colors with open windows and ocean-themed abstract art.
It was gorgeous and calming. Everything I would have imagined for the vacation home of an oil tycoon or maybe a movie star.
Definitely not for someone wrapped up in the Institution.
We passed a baby grand piano in the center of the house, along with many other pieces of art and history that looked priceless. Parker cataloged it all.
I would have thought his friends were safe from his particular business.
Snow rounded a corner, but soft voices floated to us before we made it around ourselves. Parker cursed just as one of the voices sent a trickle of recognition through me.
As we stepped into a formal dining room, there was already a man and woman seated at the long table.
They were right next to each other, the woman smoothing her ring finger over the rim of her wine glass.
Her face was severe yet beautiful. Her dark hair was half pulled up into an elegantly messy bun.
There was something so familiar about her mild expression; it was like déjà vu.
The black-haired man had his chair facing away from me with one knee propped on his ankle, lazily rocking his foot. I recognized the broad shoulders and tanned neck. Even the subtle movements of his body language. After spending a week with him, how could I not.
Our footsteps caught their attention because both turned to look at us–or me.
My gaze lingered on Matías, trying to read his intentions for being here. It couldn’t be a coincidence, could it?