Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
M allory
Now I knew what being in a loveless marriage of convenience felt like. Cold and boring. Okay, maybe that was a stretch given the sexual tension lingering in the air. Still, the two of us were doing our best to keep our distance from each other. When you added being cooped up in a small space, it all led to crazy thoughts and prickled nerves.
That’s the way it had been all day.
Yet the electricity had crackled as if we were spending time in an open thunderstorm, preparing to be electrocuted at any time. I had a constant lump in my throat that four cups of coffee hadn’t erased. And my legs felt like noodles.
Thankfully, my strange condition had nothing to do with the earlier attack. My headache was all but gone and other than a few bumps and bruises, I was no worse for the wear. Of course, I knew I had Beckett to thank for it. The thing about spending time alone was that you had way too much time to think.
The man in my house hadn’t been prepared to ask me questions in an attempt to locate Beckett. He’d been there to kill me. His visit was all about destroying something the unknown jerk had presumed mattered to the man squirreled away behind a closed door. I was no longer emotional about the attack, just processing the events and wondering whether it was only a matter of time before it happened again.
I didn’t want to think that way. I couldn’t pick up and leave town, but I also couldn’t spend any additional time with Beckett outside of this storm. It would be madness. Suicide.
Why did that sadden me so much?
While he’d joined me for breakfast, eating like a horse, he’d said absolutely nothing. Then again, neither had I. Nothing had come to mind to break the dense ice. It was as if we had glaciers forming around us and that had nothing to do with the continuing wacky weather. I’d grown up in Vermont and had never seen a storm of this magnitude. Ever.
I’d found a little weather radio and had tuned in. The storm was expected to last for at least another full day. That would leave over two feet of snow on the ground. The man might have a four-wheel drive, but he lived on the fucking mountain. It would take two weeks before anyone would even bother considering plowing the roads. There just weren’t enough people living in the immediate area.
I couldn’t envision being stuck with him for longer than a couple of days. What about my practice? With no cellphone reception, I couldn’t call anyone letting them know what was happening. The tension was rising.
At least an hour before, Beckett had gone out doing a little shoveling just to make a pathway for Jax so he could more easily go to the bathroom. Given the rate of snowfall, that would be covered up within hours and he’d need to do it all over again.
Just watching the man work, his huge muscles making the shoveling seem so easy had kept my mind active with some very dirty thoughts. Oh, what was I doing to myself? Torture. That was the term. He was a forbidden fruit or maybe I was his. Either way, one more bite of the apple and we could be poisoned.
Yes, my mind was working overtime making excuses.
I hated that another cold shiver slammed against my spine. When I’d looked out the window before, I’d sworn I’d seen men in masks carrying huge assault rifles. It had been the single thing I’d said to Beckett in hours and he’d jumped off the couch like a firecracker, barely getting into his coat and boots before heading outside.
I’d gotten an up close and personal look at his crossbow. I’d known men who owned them before, a few who’d hunted with them, but the military grade weapon Beckett owned had its own category of danger. The level was off the chart.
He’d taken Jax and spent over an hour running through the snow. Now Jax was worn out from the adventure of not finding a single thing. No footprints. No shell casings. Nothing. I’d tried to explain to Beckett upon his return evidence would be hidden in moments. He’d simply looked at me with his moss green eyes before walking away.
And I’d felt like an idiot.
I blamed my jumpiness on him. He’d wanted me frightened of the unknown. He certainly couldn’t have it both ways. He’d retreated to his office, leaving me alone. The quiet was deafening. I was never without noise.
Not in my office wherever I’d been working or at home. Not even at night. I always had a fan going to drown out the brain fog, the white noise perfect for doing that.
I’d paced the floor runner enough times I’d worn a spot in the creatively hued rug. I’d also had the same glass of wine in my hand for at least forty-five minutes. So much for drinking myself into oblivion.
He was punishing my indiscretion by shutting me out. Fine. Two could play at that game. I jerked away from the back door, once again noticing a massive, older stereo system. For a true musician, an iPad even with something like Bose speakers just wouldn’t do. I’d learned that from my roommate at college.
I chewed on my inner cheek before heading toward it. You could tell a lot about a person by the music they owned. What would I learn about the handsome, gruff, and grumpy man keeping me kind of hostage? What we were sharing really had no distinct category. At least none I’d been able to think of.
He had at least four dozen CDs ranging from Springsteen to some heavy rock, but the majority were classics of some kind including several of just acoustic guitar. They were artists I’d never heard of. I selected one and was immediately rewarded with an incredible sound through unseen speakers mounted seemingly everywhere.
There was even some primal music, the cover of the CD indicating perhaps Viking music. I was certain there was an official name for the genre, but it reminded me of one of my favorite television shows. I chose Spanish guitar instead, still amused at his selection. The man had so many different sides to him.
I was shocked by how soothing the music was, the guitar player extremely talented. I moved through the living room, swaying my hips back and forth. At least Jax noticed I was trying to break out of being a slug, lifting his head and thumping his tail on the cushions of the couch. I laughed seeing his expression, adoring the way his head was cocked to the side. Even his ears were perked up.
“Don’t look at me that way. It was too quiet in here.” I hummed the tune, recognizing it from a Broadway show.
He whined and dropped his head and I’d be damned if he didn’t wipe his ears with his paws.
“Ah. You’re incorrigible. I’m not that bad.” Maybe I was. I had talents, but singing wasn’t one of them. I wasn’t a half bad dancer though and continued swaying back and forth as I moved from one side of the room to the other. There was another set of bookcases along the wall close to the back door where the guitar was located. I carefully avoided getting too close to the musical instrument for fear I’d again invite Beckett’s displeasure.
There were books of various types, including some on musical legends. The man had very eclectic tastes and that offered quite a view of his psyche. As with everyone else, he was multi-layered. Just thinking that provided a twinge deep in my core.
Wanting to learn more about him didn’t make any good sense, yet it was difficult not to be curious. Was he as dangerous as the family tree had indicated?
My eyes drifted to the door covering the bottom of the shelving unit. As had always gotten me into trouble, I couldn’t help but want to find out what he was holding in there. I carefully placed my wine on the small table behind me and crouched down, half laughing because I’d expected to see a lock on every door.
There wasn’t.
What I found brought a huge smile to my face. Old-fashioned board games. Scrabble. Chess. Battlestations? Toss Across? Oh, my God. A Monopoly game from years and years before. It had to be considered a classic. I chewed on my lip, threw a look over my shoulder, and pulled out the box.
This couldn’t be considered intruding. Could it?
The game was older, maybe from the early seventies. I was shocked at the condition it was in. Someone had taken very good care of it. I opened the lid, peering inside and was tickled to see all the pieces were there, the money and cards in excellent shape. I gingerly placed the box on the floor and pulled out a couple of others.
All were in the exact same condition. Were these some prized possessions Beckett had brought with him through every twist and turn of his life? He obviously had different sides, but that made zero sense. Still, I was excited, as if I’d found a small treasure with his name attached to it. I must have been making gleeful sounds before a sudden dip in the barometric pressure caused me to cringe.
That was followed by a deep sigh, the kind that would set any woman’s blood on fire. I lifted my head, gritting my teeth at the same time. “Oh, hiya. I thought you were embroiled in work.”
He had his arms folded as he stared at me and I finally noticed he’d changed into jeans. I kind of preferred him in sweatpants with no shirt on.
Everything about his appearance indicated how rough and tumble he was, including his long, shaggy hair. For a few seconds, I allowed myself the fantasy of spending time running my fingers through the thick waves. Would he like that? I doubted the man was sensual, but as I’d noticed before, he was full of surprises.
“You just can’t help yourself.” There was no chastising tone in his voice, more like full on amusement.
“You did say I had run of the house.”
“Those weren’t my exact words.”
“Close enough. You have fascinating tastes in music.”
He shrugged as if I was making fun of him.
“I like it. Including the Viking theme.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Viking theme?”
“You know, barbaric. My favorite era.”
There was an instant sparkle in his eyes, which softened his expression. “I’ll keep that in mind, barbarian girl.”
The man could infuriate the hell out of me, but he could also make me laugh. I glanced down at the games, making a sweeping gesture. “You bought all these? They’re incredible. They’re in mint condition. You could bring a pretty penny into the household income if you sold them. But don’t do that. They’re so precious and remind me of a time when things were simpler, more honest somehow. I would never have suspected how much you adore board games. Not in a million years. And the music. This is amazing. Listen to the guitar. I noticed you must play the guitar as well. I would love to hear you some time. I can only imagine the soulful vibe you can create because of just how broody you are.” I sighed and noticed his expression of amusement had kicked up a notch. “I’m babbling on. Aren’t I?”
He crouched down and placed the tips of his open fingers on the floor maybe two inches away from me. Leaning over, he never blinked and I wasn’t entirely certain he was breathing. “You do talk too much, Doc, but for a man who’s had very few conversations over the past couple of years, I like hearing the sound of your voice.”
“Oh. Thank you?” I made it a question and he laughed.
“The music is mine. The guitars are mine. But I can’t take credit for the games. They came with the house along with a few other interesting finds. I shoved them all in there. Board games are best played with more than one person, and I don’t get a lot of company.”
“That’s true. You must get terribly lonely.”
“How can I be lonely with Jax around?” He stood as slowly as he’d bent down before, peering down at me as his chest rose and fell. I didn’t know this man and had begun to accept there were some aspects about his life I honestly shouldn’t learn anything about. But I had to admit playing detective was also fun.
Maybe dangerous since I had no comprehension of his personality, but I had to do something. “Good point. He’s pretty special. What else was left for you?”
He lifted a single eyebrow and nodded toward the same shelf. “Why don’t you find out?”
“Why does that seem like a dare?”
“And what if it is? Are you the kind of woman to ignore a dare?”
He was goading me. “Very funny.” I shoved the games aside and crawled onto my knees, peering inside. There were a couple of books and I wondered why he hadn’t added them to his collection.
Then I read the titles.
BDSM for Dummies ?
“What?” I threw a look up at him.
He chuckled as he headed for the bar. “Yep. Keep going.”
The other book was on the correct way of tying rope or something. How sexy was that? Not. Even though I bent down, the shadows prevented me from seeing anything before pulling it out. As my fingers wrapped around something cold, I had a very bad feeling about what I’d find.
The man was laughing at me. He was laughing full out, as if the funniest thing in the world had just occurred. Granted, I was holding handcuffs in my hand. Big silver handcuffs with no red fuzzy fur to be found.
“Who were these people?” I asked, more exasperated than I should be. I wasn’t a prude by any means, but I’d simply never felt comfortable enough to try anything so… strange. Kinky. Maybe I’d never met the right man. A series of shudders tore through me.
He made a drink and stood with his butt on the edge of the bar, watching me as if enjoying a comedy on television. I gave him a nasty look and continued feeling. This time, my fingers wrapped around something long and slender.
Almost as soon as the light hit my find, I knew I’d regret pulling it out. “What is this?”
He sauntered closer, as if he had all the time in the world and was enjoying every moment of my discomfort. “That is a cane.”
“For?”
“A spanking. What do you think? A savage act of disciplining a submissive who’s forgotten her rules, and disobeyed her master.”
I held it out and tried not to react to his taunting words. “That’s not nice and certainly not funny.”
“Who said I was trying to be funny?” He whisked the cane from my hand and turned it over, obviously admiring it. “A fine piece of craftsmanship. Birch and perfect for what it’s used for.”
“Are you trying to be unlawfully seductive?”
“Who says anything about this is unlawful? That’s ridiculous. This is… art personified.” He caressed the cane with his other hand.
I remained rooted to where I was, fascinated by the way he was kneading the thin reed almost in a loving manner. It could be considered an insight to the man or maybe he was pulling my leg.
“You’re a fascinating man.”
“Fascinating. My guess is you’ve used other words, perhaps when spending time with your friends?”
As he’d done before, he was goading me. I shoved every game back into the cabinet with the exception of Monopoly and very gingerly shoved the handcuffs and books on top before closing the doors and rising to my feet.
We were nowhere near the same height, the man towering over me by at least eight inches. However, I did my best to glare him right in the eye by rising onto my tiptoes. “Yes, we have, although my friends did think you were hot.”
“What about you?” He put his drink down onto the bookshelf, still toying with the damn cane and my gut told me he was contemplating using it.
On me.
Hell, no.
“Not even close.” When I turned away to move the game onto the coffee table, he gripped my arm just like he’d done earlier in his office. I shouldn’t enjoy being manhandled, but his hold was so possessive it created a series of intense shivers. And they had nothing to do with the cold temperatures or the blanket of white covering the ground for as far as the eye could see.
He had a way of igniting a portion of me I hadn’t even known existed. Or maybe I’d been successful in crushing the deepest part of longing a woman could feel.
There was no malice in his gaze or any intention of harming me. There was only as much burning desire as I’d felt.
He kept the firm hold, teasing me by running the thin rod across my chest. The cane was too long to easily use the tip to taunt me, but he managed to swirl the side around one nipple then the other. Instantly, they were both hard as pebbles, my breath skipping from what he was doing.
His breathing was as labored as mine, but he was in full control of his actions and emotions, refusing to give away anything he was thinking or feeling. I wished I could be that way, yet it wasn’t in the cards for me. I’d been told more than once that I wore my emotions on my sleeve. This afternoon was no exception.
“There is a real art form to using something so finely crafted as a cane,” he told me seconds later after I was already wet, my pulse racing.
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“I should punish you for breaking into my office. Hmmm…” He rolled the reed over my shoulder, brushing it down my arm. Then he snapped his wrist. I heard the whooshing sound cutting through the air just before he swatted me across the center of my bottom.
“What the…” I jumped, the flash of pain instantaneous. “That hurt.”
“Good. I’m glad. You should know better than to interfere with a man’s things.” He ripped the game from my hand, giving me a stern look before taking it to the table as I’d been planning on doing. He was telling me in no uncertain terms not to move.
There was such a strong sense of the man, his presence and aura powerful in so many ways, including the amount of control he’d obviously honed over the years of his life.
He was a few years older than I was, somewhere in his thirties, but I sensed the life he’d chosen had taken a significant toll on several fronts.
I’d wondered about the responsibility he’d mentioned. If he’d left a wife and children somewhere along the way, I wouldn’t know it. He didn’t seem like the fatherly type in the least. Although he was so good with Jax, the two seemed bonded just the way dogs did with each other.
As much as I’d told myself this had to be platonic and that I couldn’t indulge in the cravings I’d felt from before, watching him as he stroked Jax’s neck before taking his time walking back in my direction gave me pause. More than that, I felt something stirring inside of me that I’d promised I’d never feel again. It was too painful caring about anyone.
He was studying me as he approached, gauging my mood against his.
My hunger against his.
And how complicated our desires and needs would become as soon as the last snowflake fell across the terrain.
Maybe there was something to be said for coincidences. Although I was like him; I wasn’t certain I believed in them. He closed the distance, all the while tapping the cane against his palm. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were full of darkness.
I could swear the man was laying his claim or perhaps seeing what I was made of when he walked around me, standing several inches away from my back. He tugged my hair aside and I glanced over my shoulder, trying to capture what he was doing. The smug smile he wore was endearing, the glint in his eyes a foretelling of what he had planned.
It was strange to be locked away in a cabin in the middle of acres and acres of land. There was no one around, no possible chance of interference. While here, I could be anything and anyone I wanted to be. Reality would hit home soon enough, the fear of the unknown definite, but I wasn’t going to allow my mind to fuck itself with worry. Doing so would lead to an anxiety attack and refusing to acknowledge what I needed.
The truth as to what that was?
His touch.
His kisses.
And the moment when I could, for once in as long as I could remember, feel completely free.
Was there even such a thing?