Chapter 2 #3
In his fantasies she was always wearing that scarlet dress so it surprised him to see her dressed so casually.
She was wearing a cold-shoulder top and shorts, with her hair down.
His cock hardened painfully as he imagined winding those long strands of hair around his fist as he took her from behind after ordering her to try and fight him off.
She wouldn’t be able to, of course, but he would still let her try.
His breath quickened and—fuck. The client. They were still on the line. “Call me back when you have the documents if you decide you want to continue,” he said, more harshly than he intended. “Something just came up that I need to take care of.”
Nadine stumbled back like an ungainly little fawn at his approach. “Nadine,” he said, smiling a little when she jerked to attention at the sound of her own name. “This is a unique surprise. What are you doing here? I know you didn’t come all this way for a consultation.”
“You’re a . . . lawyer now?”
She was gripping the door as if she believed it might save her from him. Poor darling, he thought. If I wanted you badly enough, nothing would stop me.
“Don’t look so worried,” he purred. “I only bite my clients.”
Her cheeks pinkened. “W-what?”
“It’s an old joke. You haven’t heard it?” He stepped back into his shoes. This time, she wasn’t quite as subtle in her attempt to flee, backing from the hips as he stalked her, only half-playfully. “The difference between a lawyer and a vampire is that vampires can only suck your blood at night.”
A noise left her, strangled and breathless.
Her face was completely suffused with color now, a delightful pink wash that disappeared well beneath the neckline of that floaty blouse and had him wondering what other shades of pink might be concealed beneath those demure florals.
His eyes lingered briefly on the rise and fall of her breasts before returning to her blushing face.
“Do you want me to bite you, Nadine?”
“I—n-no, what?” She shook her head wildly, and her hair shook with her, as if the thoughts now plying her mind were simply too much for her body to contain.
“I—I got a note from Noelle. She didn’t sound like herself and I was worried so I came here, a-and the, um .
. . maid . . . just left me in the hall? So I came . . . here.”
His amusement drained away. “What did the note say?” he asked urgently.
She took another step back. “Nothing. R-really. It was more how she said it. Is she here? Is she all right? Can I see her?”
With every subsequent question, her worry betrayed her. “I really wish you’d written,” he said calmly, silently cursing his brother’s ineptitude. “We could have made arrangements.”
“I tried to call my sister.” She met his eyes in a stubborn flash of grey.
“That was a mistake. Reception is terrible here.” Her eyes went pointedly to the pocket where he’d secreted his phone and without losing any of his frustration, he began to feel himself growing charmed as he rose instinctively to the challenge.
“Oh, we have wi-fi. But it’s not reliable.
We’re very old-fashioned here in Argentum.
When the storms hit, we’re reduced to candles and carriages. Holly.”
The maid he had glimpsed in the hall came running, only slightly breathless as she came to a halt behind Nadine, boxing her in. “Yes, Mr. Cullraven?”
“Make up the bridal suite for our guest. See to it that she’s treated like family.”
“That’s not necessary,” Nadine blurted. “I’m staying somewhere else. Nobody needs to make up anything for me.”
“Ridiculous,” he said. “Where are you staying?”
She stood as tall as her frame allowed, giving him a missish glare of defiance that sent another rush of warmth to his cock. “Where is my sister?”
He leaned back, adjusting his stance. “Not here.”
“Where is she?”
“I sent you a letter—several letters. I assumed I had the wrong address when I didn’t hear back. But I didn’t, did I?” You ignored me on purpose, you vicious little sparrow, and I think it gave you great pleasure to thwart me.
“Letters get lost,” she said, still defiant. “You could have called.”
“So could you.” Cal sighed. “In any case, she’s not well, and hasn’t been for a while.”
The pinkish tinge in her cheek turned blotchy as she fell out of that defensive stance, hands clasped in front of her as if seeking her own support. “Is she . . . sick?”
“In a way,” he said guardedly, unsure of how much she already knew, or what she had been told. “Something happened on her honeymoon with Ben. I don’t know what. But she came back wild and raving. Delusional. And now—she’s gone missing.”
“But she’s not delusional. She’s never been delusional. She doesn’t even get depressed.”
There was a hopeless note in her voice and he felt an unfamiliar tightness in his chest at the knowledge that he was the cause of her misery and would only be prolonging it now.
“How long?” she asked, oblivious to his torture. “How long has she been missing?”
“A little over a week,” he lied. “But most missing people turn up within twenty-four hours and if not then, eighty-six percent are eventually found.”
“And what about the other fourteen?” she whispered. “What about them?”
Cal did not reply and she flinched again; not from him, this time, but from the fear—the unknowing. He had seen this reaction before, in countless living rooms and offices. Inheritance was not always a rosy handing-off of grand fortunes. Sometimes it was a tragedy—or a curse.
Nadine let out a ragged breath as what little color remained in her face abruptly blanched. Cal surged forward just as she began to wobble on her feet, so that when she collapsed, the full weight of her body sagged against him.
His shoulders dipped with the effort of holding her upright.
Grunting, he cupped her by the backs of her knees and swung her into his arms. She was heavier than he expected and he was rather perversely satisfied by that.
She felt so right pressed against him like this, with those lush and bounteous curves rubbing up against his hard, unyielding frame, as if they could—
No. This was not the time for that. He had to decide where to take her. Not his bedroom—he had a feeling she wouldn’t respond well to waking up on his rumpled sheets. Perhaps the library. There was a settee in there. Or the parlor—
He ran into the maid again in the hall, who looked rather alarmed to see him with a body. He gave a look lanced with impatience. “Get me some ice,” he barked, before she could flee again, and she bobbed her head before darting for the kitchen, the soles of her shoes squeaking noisily.
Ben appeared at the top of the stairs. For a moment, he looked surprised, and then his brows drew down in obvious judgment. “Back to your old ways already? You know Father doesn’t like you bringing your playthings in the house.”
“It’s your sister-in-law,” Cal responded coldly, wanting to wound. “Nadine.”
His brother’s hands clenched on the balustrade. He released the wood abruptly, heading down the stairs for a better look. “So it is. I barely recognized the shabby little wren. How, pray tell, did you land her in that condition?”
“She fainted.” His irritation increased when his brother followed him into the parlor like a grim chasing the scent of death. Cal laid her down on one of the sofas, smoothing her hair back from her face. “She’s worried about her sister.”
“I thought you were supposed to take care of that,” Ben said. “Did she come alone?”
“I think so.”
“Good. That will make this so much easier.”
Cal did not like the expression on Ben’s face. “You aren’t going to get rid of her, surely.”
“That depends on what she knows.” He opened his mouth to say more, but Holly entered the room with the ice. She handed the glass to Cal before hurrying away, her path describing a rather large circle around Ben. “I can be very persuasive.”
Cal pressed one of the ice cubes to her pulse, watching her shiver. A rivulet of melted water trailed down her throat that he longed to chase with his tongue. “You aren’t going to touch her.”
“Are those the doctor’s orders? Your bedside manner leaves much to be desired, if so.”
“I mean it.” Cal looked at him harshly. “One disappearance will raise eyebrows. Two will bring every law enforcement official in the area to our door.”
“I’m the heir of Ravensgate,” Ben said. “As far as you and everyone else in this town is concerned, what goes on in his house is under my jurisdiction. She’s my sister-in-law, Caledon, which puts her under father’s and my authority. Not yours.”
“And as you pointed out,” Cal said, “she came to me. That sounds like choice, Benjamin. Unless you’re calling yourself father’s sparrow, now.”
His brother’s face darkened to an ugly purplish-red. “You dare—”
“Ugh, are you two fighting again?” Odessa’s voice chimed from the hall like the goddess of discord incarnate. “I think you should take your masculine egos to the woods like civilized people instead of—” she broke off upon spotting Nadine. “Oh wow, is it festival time already?”
“She’s not dead,” Cal snapped, “although Ben would like her to be.”
Odessa snapped her fingers. “It’s the girl from the wedding.
The timid busty one you had your little crush on.
What was her name—” Her grin widened, shark-like, at his surly glare.
“Natalie! No, Nadine. Noelle’s little sister, the one Father had you writing to.
Wait, let me guess, you confessed the depths of your turgid, throbbing love and she was so overcome that she fainted. ”
Hands on his hips, Ben said, “Noelle wrote her letters. Cal did, too. That’s why she’s here. I told Cal not to fuck it up, lest she waltz in here singing her sister’s swan song, but apparently his attempts at warning her off failed.”
“But it’s almost time for the festival,” Odessa said. “If he courted her now, he could persuade her to stay for the hunt if he doesn’t bore her to death first. Or scare her away. Although if she’s here, she probably likes being scared at least a little.”
The festival. A light went off in his head.
“Absolutely not,” Ben said harshly.
Cal dropped the ice in his glass, wiping his damp fingers on his pants. Nadine’s eyes fluttered behind her lids, her lips parting on a silent breath.
“She’s waking,” he said. “No one say anything. Not one word about letters or festivals.” His eyes went to his brother and sister by turn, his features locked into the same stern mask he wore to the courtroom. “Leave everything to me.”
This was the sign he needed to resolve his broken faith. No trial by fire, but a woman delivered right to his front door, just in time for the festival.
Cal knew now, what he had to do.