Chapter 8
Declan Buchanan
It took every ounce of self-control to accept Karey’s request last night without demanding a million answers, but by the fatigue lines bracketing her eyes and the sag of her shoulders, I’d already pushed her too far.
After ordering express delivery and ensuring she had all the first aid and toiletry items she might need, I also called my tailor with simple instructions and arranged a quick visit this morning so she’d have a change of clothes for the day.
Another call had room service wheeling in a cart full of food and drinks less than ten minutes later.
Then I did the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
Walking away from her twenty years ago was necessary. I hated it, but fueled by prepubescent rage and fear, it was easier than staying by her side.
Not that I actually had a choice. My grandmother had already come to rescue me from social services.
Walking away from Karey last night was pure torture. Every cell in my body demanded I stay, but I knew for her sake, I had to leave.
I would have rather sat through a million tedious work conferences or watched my entire company implode than walk away, but I understood the yearning for solitude in her caramel eyes better than anyone else.
I managed to retreat solely because her request ensured I’d see her today, so after one restless night, here I am this morning, waiting like a gentleman outside her door.
My tailor, Sean, flings open the door with his normal flair and gushes. “Perfection! Magnifique! Mr. Buchanan, I don’t know where you found such a wonderful model, but it’s so refreshing to have curves for once. I swear, the high-fashion, stick-thin bodies get so boring after a while.”
His attendants—all women—exit the room with small smiles of satisfaction on their faces.
Sean and his entire crew wouldn’t be where they are today without me.
I noticed Sean’s raw talent when I was first starting my business, so I ensured he grew along with me through endorsements and partnerships.
Being a retail conglomerate means there’s always a branch ready to support entrepreneurs.
Karey steps into view. The world ceases to exist.
With her hair in loose curls, a flowy long-sleeve white top, jeans that hug her delicious hips, and her bright red shoes adding a pop of color, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.
I nearly swallow my tongue as she walks closer. Her matching bright red bra peaks through the semi-sheer top.
Fucking hell, my trousers are too tight. I both curse and praise my compression boxer briefs.
Sean blabbers on in the background about other outfits, but what she’s wearing is perfect. A little understated on the surface, but that’s what makes it so impactful.
When Sean finally inhales, I say, “You know my card number. All of them.”
He squeals in glee and rushes after his team.
Karey stops in front of me.
“Good morning, Mr. Buchanan,” she says.
Right. Not even friends. Yet.
I match her professionalism even though I’d much rather pull her into my arms and devour her plump, kissable lips.
“Good morning, Ms. Justice. My car is waiting for us downstairs,” I say as I offer her my arm.
Without a word, she slips her hand into the crook of my elbow and walks down the hall with me. When we exit the elevator and she shifts so close her hip, shoulder, and breast brush against me, my senses sharpen.
Her vigilance as we walk through the lobby reminds me of the way she darted into the elevator last night.
She saw someone she doesn’t want to run into.
I ferry the information away for later and open my passenger door for her. She hesitates. I quirk a brow.
“Are you doubting a second location with me?” I half joke, half scowl.
“No, it’s not that at all. I was expecting a driver and a sleek black sedan or SUV, not a normal car,” she says with a shrug.
I guide her into the seat, buckle her belt, and steal a quick kiss to her cheek before murmuring, “I can drive myself just fine and this ‘normal’ car has more to it than it meets the eye.”
Her blush as I wink and shut the door has me pausing to adjust as I walk around the rear bumper to the driver’s seat.
After putting the address in the GPS, Karey sits back and turns her face out the passenger window.
Despite the extra safety and performance features in my car, I drive like any other New Yorker—cutthroat and unforgiving—while keeping the ride smooth so my woman can prepare for the battle ahead.
I might commit murder today, but I have the funds to bury the crime and no guilt over the potential death.
This Brad fellow hurt my cupcake. He deserves to suffer.
Even if he isn’t there, I know everything about him. If the little freak doesn’t die today, he’ll wish he had. My connections run deep, even in jail.
She’s too fidgety. Her nerves worsen the longer we sit in the silent car and the closer we get to her former apartment.
Although skimming my hand up her thigh and teasing her soft, sensitive flesh would be my ultimate distraction preference, I’m fully aware she needs all her defenses for the upcoming trial, so instead I smirk and capture her gaze for the briefest of moments before returning my attention to the road.
“You need a keeper,” I declare.
She does a double-take and quirks a brow. Her breasts shift with her inhale, pushing her red bra against her partially see-through blouse. I bite my bottom lip to enjoy the sting as she rallies.
In middle school, she often rambled on about keepers, protectors, and dragon slayers. She swore she’d be my princess until the end of time if I’d be her knight in shining armor forever.
After a flash of bittersweet emotions play through her expression, she dons the biggest, brightest, fakest smile.
“Thank you for your concern, Mr. Buchanan, but I’m not an animal in a zoo. I’m a woman. I don’t need a keeper,” she says as though speaking to a child.
Fucking hell, I want to devour her sassy lips and impertinent tongue. Even with her viciousness on full display, she’s sweeter than sugar.
I allow my appreciation to shine from my eyes as I give her a slow once-over.
A blush colors her cheeks, and her breath stutters.
She shifts in her seat and meets my gaze.
I turn back to the windshield before I cum in my pants.
Just imagining her thighs rubbing together is enough to have me on the edge, but that little hip wiggle suggests she’s hot and ready.
I’d love to work my hand into her jeans, find her clit with my fingertip, and help her into euphoria.
I clear my throat but my voice emerges deep and rough.
“You are very much a woman, yes. A beautiful woman who needs a keeper,” I respond.
She tilts her head and presses her hand over her heart, but the thrumming of her pulse in her jugular ruins her attempt at nonchalance.
“Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Buchanan, however there’s no reason to flatter me. I’m fully capable of taking care of myself,” she says.
Oh god, it’s too much. She chose the perfect words.
“Are you really? I’d love to watch.” I pour my hunger into the suggestive words.
Her eyes widen as understanding sweeps through her.
She drops her face into her hands and mumbles, “Damn, I walked right into that one.”
A little half-giggle escapes her. She shakes her head.
“I’m sorry, Declan. I’m fine, I swear. I just… thanks,” she finishes with a lame shrug.
I cup her knee as I pull into the parking garage nearest the location.
“Are you apologizing because you feel bad for using me?” I prod.
She sighs, drops her hands to her lap, and leans her head back against the headrest.
I call it a win since she doesn’t immediately push my hand off her leg.
“I don’t know. Maybe. Yes. This is just… messed up.”
“I’ll happily be your knight in—”
She grabs my wrist and digs her nails into my flesh. The parking garage lights cast her face in shadow, but her glare reaches through my breastbone and squeezes my heart.
“Don’t finish that sentence. We’re not talking about the past or the future today. Our deal is you help me this once and I’ll consider being your friend. Nothing else,” she demands.
“Of course, cupcake.”
Her glare intensifies. She peels my grip off her knee and shifts her entire body toward the passenger window.
I park in the closest open spot to the elevator. The area is better lit than the ramp, but my senses sharpen at all the potential hiding places.
I grab her elbow when she tries to stomp past me.
“Give me the key. I’ll go first. You stay behind me unless I tell you otherwise. Understand?”
She rolls her eyes.
“He’s not that dangerous. In fact, he’s supposed to be at work right now, so having you here is probably overkill. I can—”
“No. If anything, your escape probably made him more volatile. He expects you to stay silent.”
“What? Why would he—”
“Why didn’t you tell boy toy number one and boy toy number two when you had them on the phone last night?”
Her color drains as she processes my point. I pull her closer to me and angle her near the pillar so the passing car’s headlights streak across my back instead of blinding her.
“He’s probably waiting for you. You were smart to ask for my help. Give me the key,” I demand.
She sighs and offers me her keys with trembling fingers. I engulf her hand in mine and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I promise he’ll never touch you again. Do you trust me?”
Despite the demons lurking in her gaze—demons I created when I walked away from her twenty years ago—she nods.
It isn’t the declaration I crave, but it’s good enough for now.
I take her keys and offer her my elbow. She hooks her hand into the crook of my arm and lets me lead her to the apartment.
The building’s location isn’t horrible and the common areas seem well maintained, but the security falls flat and, honestly, nothing will be good enough for my woman unless I provide it.
It’s an outdated, narrow-minded ideal, I know, but I can’t help myself when it comes to Karey Justice.
I’ll do anything for her, even murder.
Anything except walk away. I did that once, and all it got me was years of loneliness.
She’s stuck with me forever.
No matter what.