Chapter 3
Chapter Three
He’d come back.
Violet sucked in the fresh air and tipped back her head as she stared up at the starry night. So many stars. They glittered above her and reminded her of another night.
Another place.
The night she’d spent with him. Her mystery hero. The white knight who’d saved her. Kissed her like he was starving for her. Then told her to walk away and never look back. Only…
He’d come back for me.
He stood behind her now. She could feel the heat from his body stretching out to wrap around her. “Royal.” Now she had a name for the shadow that was her savior.
His hand curled around her shoulder and slid down her arm.
A shiver chased over her.
“You don’t need to be afraid of me.” His voice was deep and dark, and it rumbled like a growl. Why on earth did she find it so sexy?
Maybe because she found everything about him to be sexy.
“I’m not afraid of you,” Violet returned softly.
“You can lie to the rest of the world. In fact, I need you to lie to them. But you don’t have to lie to me.”
Her hands clamped around the top of the balcony railing. The river waited below. Lights gleamed in the water, reflections from the nearby buildings. “I don’t know you.”
“Sure, you do. I’m your own personal boogeyman.”
She spun around. Found herself trapped between him and the railing.
“Boo,” he murmured.
“Is that supposed to be funny?” she snapped even as her heart raced too hard in her chest.
“Ah. There she is.” He smiled. “Thought she was in there, but you were a shell tonight. All glamour and cold facade. Had to break through to see the real you.”
Her chin lifted. “What does that even mean?”
“It means fear is cloaking you. Don’t let it. You let fear rule you, and you’ll hate what you become.”
“Easy for you to say. You weren’t knocked out and locked in the back of some jerk’s trunk.” A man who is still out there somewhere. And if he was out there, he could come for her at any time. Her breath came faster, just as it had when they danced. Too quick. Almost panting.
His hand rose and pressed over her racing heart. “I scare you.” Then, halting, “I don’t…want to scare you.”
Then don’t be so shady and mysterious. “You’re a criminal.” A conclusion she’d had to reach.
Soft laughter. Mocking. “Is that what I am?”
“You have to be.” She’d tried to put these pieces together in the last two weeks. On the nights when she couldn’t sleep, her mind had spun the possibilities over again and again. “Why else wouldn’t you go in the police station with me? You’re wanted by the cops, aren’t you?” What crimes had he committed?
“There is currently no warrant out for my arrest. I give you my word on that.” His hand fell away from her. He took a step back. “But I’ve certainly been called a criminal before. By plenty of people. Plenty of times. I’ve got to say, the label gets old.”
Why did she feel like she’d just hurt him? Her hand flew out. This time, she was the one to touch his chest. Right over his heart. “I’m sorry.”
He looked down at her hand. Back up at her. “You should know…I want you.”
She blinked.
“Probably could have been more suave with that reveal, huh? Didn’t feel like being suave. Thought I’d be honest with you instead. So you, touching me—that’s probably not the best idea.”
She didn’t stop touching him. “I want you, too.” Soft.
He…
Backed up another step.
Her hand fell back to her side.
“You often want criminals?” Royal asked her. His voice was all mild. As if he’d just asked her what sort of ice cream she liked or who was her favorite musician.
“I don’t typically fall for criminals, no.” To be clear. And, so they could get back on topic, “You just paid ten thousand dollars to dance with me.”
“I did. Charitable donation. Earning good karma and all of that.”
Now he had distracted her. “Do you need good karma?”
“Hell, yes.”
“You’re not a criminal.” She wanted to focus on this. She needed to know that her hero wasn’t someone terrible. She didn’t want to be lusting after a monster.
His head cocked. “If I’m not a criminal, what am I?”
“You’re…a businessman. Rich. You have money to burn. Thus, the wasted ten grand on a dance with me.” He was dressed in a tux that looked as if it had been created just for him. The coat hugged his broad shoulders. Fit perfectly along his powerful chest. She’d felt his power when they danced. Remembered the strength of his body as he’d carried her through the night.
“No one has money to burn. That’s just a jackass investment.”
“And spending the money to dance with me wasn’t an, uh, jackass investment?”
His gaze swept over her. “It was money well spent.”
Her arms wrapped around her body as a cold chill seemed to sweep over her.
“Nope.” Immediate. “Can’t have that.” Royal shouldered out of his tux coat and put it around her shoulders. The coat wrapped her in his warmth and scent.
Her head tipped back as she stared up at him. “Why couldn’t I tell the cops about you?” Their bodies were brushing.
“Because I have unfinished business. The cops would have gotten in my way.” His hand rose. Skimmed over her cheek. “I did not expect you.”
She could see that. “Most people don’t expect to find a woman in a trunk.”
Soft laughter. “How do you do that?”
His hand still pressed to her cheek. Was she tilting her cheek into his touch? Dammit, she was. “Do what?” Breathless.
“I don’t laugh easily. I don’t…smile so quickly. Not usually. Not and actually mean it, anyway. But I feel differently with you.”
He was going to kiss her. Her lips parted.
And he stepped back. Again. “Move back into your brother’s house until I tell you that things are safe.”
“The cops said I should be fine. There are additional security measures in place at the theater. More security guards have been hired. The cast members always walk out in groups. I actually have a guard who walks with me every night, per Micah’s orders. I also got a top-of-the-line security system installed at my rental house. I am safe.”
“No.” Very definite. “You are not. The illusion of safety won’t protect you if he comes for you again. You shouldn’t be alone.”
“I can’t hide forever. That’s not a way to live.”
“At least you would be living.”
Great. Now her knees were about to start knocking together. “You kick me out of your car at a police station?—”
“I dropped you off?—”
“You ghost me for two weeks?—”
“I was keeping a low profile and keeping watch on you. I couldn’t suddenly pop into your life. I needed a way for us to be introduced that wouldn’t arouse suspicion from the cops.”
Her brows beetled. “Buying the dance was your entrance into my life? I hate to tell you, but it’s not subtle.”
“No, it’s not. But every single person in that ballroom tonight will leave knowing that I couldn’t take my eyes off you. They’ll think I’m some love-sick—lust-sick—fool who will do anything to possess you.”
All of the moisture had dried from her mouth.
“If you won’t go back to your brother’s place, then I’ll have no choice but to move in close to you. I will need a cover in order to do that.”
That’s what the dance was about? Him creating a cover to be in my life?
“I told you before, Violet, you attracted a very dangerous predator.”
“A serial killer.” He’d said those actual words. Her knees definitely knocked together.
“You will need protection.”
She shook her head. “The cops said he won’t come back for me. They didn’t say anything about him being a serial killer.” A stalker, yes. An obsessed fan, yes. A serial killer? No, that had not been mentioned by any of the cops.
Royal just stared down at her.
“ Royal. If you know more, tell me.”
“Go back to your brother?—”
“No.” A hard denial. “I am not cowering in fear any longer. I have a show to perform. A whole crew of dancers waiting on me. If fear controls me, I can’t step foot on the stage. I can’t do my job. And I won’t spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder. That’s not happening.”
His gaze swept over her. “Fair enough. Then I’ll have to use my cover.”
The cover of…lust-sick fool? Her temples pounded. She needed to go back inside. Get away from him. She couldn’t think clearly this close to Royal. And she could feel the secrets oozing from him.
“Our time is nearly up,” Royal announced. “I need to kiss you.”
No. He needed to stop jerking her around. “Good night, Royal.” She brushed past him.
He caught her wrist. His grip was so careful and yet so very unbreakable. “You need me.”
She looked down at his fingers as they curled around her. “I need the truth.”
The balcony door opened. “Violet?” Micah poked his head outside.
Royal tugged her closer. “Kiss me,” he rasped.
For his cover? “I only kiss someone for show when I’m on a stage. Otherwise, I mean it.” She pulled free. “Good night, Mr. Boudreaux.” Violet walked toward Micah. His gaze wasn’t on her face. Instead, he stared beyond her as he frowned hard at Royal.
But Micah extended a hand toward her.
She started to take his offered fingers.
“Violet!”
She froze at Royal’s grated call.
“I will be seeing you again,” Royal promised her. “And thank you for the dance. Hopefully, it will be the first of many.”
She took Micah’s hand.
Jealousy. It was new for Royal and fucking annoying. His hands fisted as Micah curled his arm around Violet and led her back inside the ballroom.
Royal didn’t like the other man touching Violet.
He didn’t like the prick near Violet.
Because…
I want her.
The desire he’d felt for her hadn’t lessened. If only. Instead, as she’d stood on the balcony, tipping up her chin and facing off against him, Royal had been surprised by the force of the admiration and arousal that had surged through him. He’d truly intended to just warn her. The cops were screwing her case to hell and back, and he had to wonder if they were actually that incompetent or…
Or are they using her?
She shouldn’t be on her own. Shouldn’t be staying alone. She should stay with the prick brother who’d locked her in the closet when they were kids. Yeah, right, like I’ll be letting that one go. He’ll get payback soon enough.
But she’d refused to heed his warning.
Unfortunate.
Royal had tried to give her a choice. No, he had given her a choice. What came next…well, she couldn’t say that he hadn’t warned her.
He—
The balcony door opened again. His head whipped up.
Violet was there.
Fuck. Violet was there.
She rushed back toward him. “I?—”
His hand curled around her waist. He didn’t second guess. Didn’t even think. He just pulled her against him, and his mouth locked on hers. And it was just as it had been at the police station. He’d half-convinced himself that he’d imagined the burst of desire that erupted when he took her lips. That she hadn’t tasted like the only slice of heaven he’d ever know. That his whole body didn’t ignite with need when their lips met and their tongues brushed.
But this kiss—it was even better than his memory. He felt the kiss in every cell of his body. Felt her. Her lilac scent engulfed him. Her soft body pressed against him. She tasted like peppermint. Fucking delicious. And he wanted to eat her up.
More, he wanted to fuck her. Right then. Right there. On the balcony. He could shove up that silky dress. Lift her up. Hold her while he thrust deep and hard into her. The people on the other side of those balcony doors never needed to know what they were doing.
She’d told him that she would kiss only when she meant it. She’d ditched that prick Micah and come back to kiss Royal alone. No show.
Would she fuck him now that they were?—
Violet shoved him back. Her breath heaved and she…she jerked off his coat. “I brought this back to you.”
He looked at the coat. At her. At the coat again. His brain was having trouble processing the scene.
“Take it.” She thrust it against his chest.
He caught it, automatically, but for just a moment, he also caught her fingers and held them pinned against his chest.
“Who are you?” Violet whispered.
Told you. Royal Boudreaux. The man of your nightmares.
No, he hadn’t told her the nightmare part. Because he didn’t want to be that. Not for her. For others, yes. Not her.
Never. Her.
“Why do I want you so much?” she asked with a shake of her head.
Before he could figure out any sort of response, she whirled and left him. He still clutched the coat. He could swear it smelled like her now. A Violet who smelled of lilacs.
And he could still taste her.
The door swung shut behind her.
His heart slammed into his chest, and his dick shoved against the front of his pants.
Run, sweetheart. But I’m just going to chase you.
She was too important to lose.
“I am dying ,” Simone Wilmont announced with a dramatic sigh as she looped her arm with Violet’s. “Dying of absolute boredom.” With her grip on Violet, she tugged her past the elaborate ice sculptures of two swans—sculptures that were still in surprisingly good shape considering that the fundraiser was now winding down. “Save me,” Simone beseeched Violet.
Violet forced a smile. She’d been hyperaware all night. Too focused on Royal and where he might be. And on what he’d said.
A serial killer? Oh, God, seriously?
And the kiss…the kiss…
“The donors are leaving. The party here is over, but we look fabulous.” Simone adjusted the already low bodice of her top to make it look a little lower. “Some of the dancers are going to hit that new club that opened last week—Punishment? Have you heard about the place?”
She’d heard some of the other dancers talk about it, yes.
“Supposed to be killer.” Simone tilted her head. Her blond hair had been pulled back into a tight twist. The style just accentuated Simone’s high cheekbones. “We’re going to get wild and have some drinks and live a little. And you are coming with us. That’s not a question. It’s a statement of fact.”
Violet had already started to shake her head. “No, I—” Her gaze darted over Simone’s shoulder.
“Yeah, he’s gone, sunshine,” Simone told her flatly. “Left earlier.”
Her stare flew back to Simone.
“And I am so curious about what went on when you were out with him on the balcony. Did Snow White get a kiss that made her jolt back to life?” Simone’s eyes gleamed.
Violet cleared her throat. “I should get home.”
“You should get back to living. You know you want to come. You know you want to cut loose with me.” Simone exhaled. “This is me, your dancing best friend. Pretend to be Miss Perfect with someone else. I know you have a wild side, and she has been pinned up too long. You need this.” Sympathy flashed in her blue eyes. “Don’t let him kill this part of you. Dance. Have fun. Live.”
Simone was her best friend. Not just her dancing best friend. They’d met years ago while they’d both been at a conservatory in New York. Roommates by chance. Friends because no one could be near Simone and not be her friend. Their careers had taken them in different directions—literally, in different directions across the country, but they’d been lucky enough to work together a few other times over the years. And now, they were both in the Snow White cast.
When Violet got shy, Simone became extra vibrant. Simone was always confident. Always grinning. Always looking for fun.
“Let that wild side out, girl,” Simone ordered her. “Tell that freak who took you to fuck off.”
Serial killer. Not so easy to tell him to fuck off. Or to get him out of her nightmares. If only it was so simple. If only she could take charge of her life again.
And kiss the fear goodbye.
Simone and Royal are alike. Both wanting to tell someone to fuck off.
She’d never done that. Being polite had always been her go-to. Being the good girl all the time. And what had that gotten her?
Locked in a freaking trunk. Was that what happened to good girls?
“Come with me,” Simone half-ordered, half-cajoled. “Dance like you want. Drink until the fear is gone. And have fun with me.” A wink. “Let’s get some Punishment together.”
She shouldn’t. She absolutely shouldn’t…
“I am not taking no for an answer,” Simone told her.
Several of the other dancers—male and female—gathered around them. Violet’s gaze searched through the crowd once more. Yes, I’m looking for him.
Royal Boudreaux.
Except…
He was gone.
“Punishment,” Simone called out. “Here, we come!”
The dancers cheered. But fear twisted inside of Violet even more. She was sick of being afraid. Absolutely sick of it. So, yes, fine. Maybe she would go out and dance with her friends. Maybe she’d drink. Maybe she’d forget…
Maybe she would let her wild side out to play.
She rushed out of the historic building in a circle of her laughing friends. The others were all smiling. Their voices lifted and carried in the wind.
Violet didn’t laugh.
She didn’t smile.
She did look back. Nervously glancing over her shoulder before she hurried forward with the others, as if she feared being left behind.
He’d been waiting for her. Watching and waiting. Needing that moment when he could get her all to himself again. But she wasn’t alone.
She also clearly wasn’t going home.
Where are you going, sweet Violet?
He would just follow her and find out. And he’d wait. Keep watching and waiting.
Until he had her again.