Chapter 21
Will’s body filled the arched opening of the alcove, and no one could get around him to go in or out of the restrooms at Ethan’s pub.
He flashed me a handsome, possessive smile as I came out of the ladies’ room. The one that fired up my soul and my body and changed me. Then he winked, jerked me close, and slid his tongue over my neck to my ear.
“I’m quite hungry, baby,” he whispered.
I rubbed my cheek against his. The sting caused by his course stubble made me want more, more pain, more fire, more him.
John shouted from the other end of the pub.
“Hey, our table’s over here.”
At our table, I sat quietly, exploring the charming décor, while Will and his brothers talked about logging the estate’s trees earlier than usual or something like that.
In addition to the tables, the pub had cozy snugs with dark leather seating. The manager had painted the walls and the wooden floorboards black. Reclaimed wood finished the bar. Original fireplaces, also painted black, anchored each end of the pub.
Works by local artists covered the walls.
Daily newspapers and books covered several side tables.
I thought about Nick’s and the similarities. About the old Victorian house where I’d grown up. My father’s house. I thought about the beach house at Lords Point that I loved so much. About the art studio. And the children I should’ve been teaching.
I remembered the stars over the open waters of the Atlantic.
But even after all that, I realized I didn’t really miss home…because I was too busy falling in love with England, where reminders of abandonment and heartbreak grew distant.
In Connecticut, the reminders would be front and center, always.
Looking for reassurance, I cuddled against Will’s side.
He leaned in and kissed the tip of my nose.
“You’re reflecting quite a lot today.”
“I’m…yes, I guess so. I think I’m happy here, Will.”
Satisfied with my conclusion, he smiled, but then a seriousness chased it away.
“Elle, say you’ll stay. I want to hear you say it.”
“I’ll stay,” I whispered.
He brushed his lips over mine.
“And you’ll tell me if you ever have other ideas.”
“Yes.”
“Good. Let’s go home.”
“Oh. You need to start for London soon?”
He shook his head, and his smile came back.
“No, I’ll fly in tomorrow. I can’t sleep apart from you tonight.”
But then his gaze jerked to the yellow envelope put in front of him by our server.
“What the hell is this?”
“I don’t know, sir. A man paid me fifty pounds to take it to you.”
“Show me,” Will commanded.
“I can’t. He just left out the back door.”
Ben flew to the back door and burst outside. Seconds later, he returned and shook his head that it was too late…the man disappeared into the festival crowd.
Will didn’t say anything…his well-known calm before the storm had kicked in.
He quietly opened the envelope and took out two photos. They showed him carrying me from the plane, flanked by Thomas, Ethan, John, and Ben. An obvious protection detail.
He tossed the photos onto the table, pushed back against his chair, and stretched.
“War it is, motherfuckers.”
Thomas came back from walking Kirsty out and grabbed the photos.
“I guess it’s on then, brother.”
They knew where to find me.
They had watched us arrive in the UK.
I swallowed hard, trying to force back the rising anxiety and fear as they worked together to overwhelm me. The pair always lurked in tandem, waiting for an opportunity to take me down. I shook the bastards from my head, choosing to fight, not hide.
Breathing deeply, refusing to count like a child, I corrected my posture. But despite my best effort, one traitorous tear rolled down my cheek.
Will caught the tear before it dropped. He rested his lips on my temple.
“No one will get to you ever again, Elle. Trust me, I swear.”
His commitment to me was unreal. It was beyond comprehension.
I smiled.
“I do trust you. Take me home.”
Once Ben had inspected the car, he pulled up to the front entrance. He hit the button to lock us in as he met Will’s eyes in the rearview mirror.
“Left side…dark sedan…two men. Drive or fight?”
Will’s attention shifted to the sedan.
“Drive out of town first.”
Ben pulled away from the curb, heading away from town, and the black car followed.
With his arm muscles tensed, Will pulled me into his arms.
“Open up the cache, John.”
John lifted a hidden panel under his feet to retrieve two pistols. He inserted the magazines and handed them to his brothers without saying a word.
Will cuffed Thomas’s shoulder, and Thomas gave him a quick nod.
I stared straight ahead, choking back the fear.
The sun dipped below the horizon, and illuminated clouds hung low in the magenta-and-blue twilight sky.
Our car slowed, and Will tightened his embrace. He lifted my chin and stared into my eyes, demanding obedience.
“Thomas and I are getting out. You’ll stay in the car, Elle.”
My heart banged against my sternum.
“Okay,” I breathed.
Will’s arms tightened around me even more, creating an impenetrable cocoon.
“Prepare yourself, John. And you keep her in this car, by force if necessary.”
Then Will lowered his head and put a soft, haunting kiss on my mouth.
Ben accelerated.
So did the car behind us.
He hit the brakes.
Both cars skidded, tires screeching as rubber smoked and burned. The sedan plowed into the back of us.
Metal crunched. Glass shattered.
Will’s body absorbed the impact for me.
Ben threw the Rover into reverse and accelerated again, pushing back on the sedan until it dislodged from our bumper and lurched sideways. It slid into the gravel at the edge of the road.
Will and Thomas jumped out of the car at once.
In the time it took me to twist and track them through the broken rear window, they tore the two men out of the dark car and held them at gunpoint.
Ben stayed behind the wheel with the car running, ready to quickly pull away.
“Shit!”
He slammed the car into park.
And as he leaped out, he shouted at John and me to keep our arses in the goddamn car.
John held my hand, the sweat from our palms mixing.
Then he squeezed. Hard.
“Oh fuck,” he shouted.