Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Iona
I sit on a lounger beside the pool soaking in the sun.
My Kindle rests on my lap, and I’m trying to read a speculative fiction novel about a hero who’s spent his life training himself to endure all kinds of psychological and physical pain.
Though he failed spectacularly at a test near the beginning of the story, he’s now on a mission to master that form of torture.
To feature the book in my next edition of Iona’s Bookish Rambles, I’ll have to finish it by tomorrow.
But hardly any of it is sinking in because I’m really reading to distract myself from thoughts of Leith.
His defense lawyer Jason stopped by last night to say Leith had been arrested for the murder of his former guardian.
Amanda and I were sitting in the kitchen for dinner when Jason arrived with the news, and it took away my appetite.
Leith glossed over the murder case in his memoir, but he made it sound as if there was very little evidence against him.
Yet his arrest set me wondering whether he did kill Annand. After all, on our wedding night he planned to kill me and nearly did—twice. If he’s capable of it now, why not then?
An hour ago Amanda told me Leith was let out on bail, and I was relieved but also wary. He forced me to marry him so he could exact revenge on me. It’s hard to believe he’s really abandoned his project so easily as our honeymoon suggested.
A shiver skitters down my arms. What if he’s just biding his time, setting me at ease so he can strike when I least expect?
I pop up straighter on the chaise longue and set down my e-reader. Maybe instead of sitting out here reading, I should be running for my life. Maybe instead of rooting for Leith to be released, I should’ve been praying he’d be locked up.
His words echo in my head. You’ve earned another day of life, Scheherazade. I didn’t earn it yesterday or today. A horrible, prickly feeling crawls over my skin. If Leith is out free, where is he now?
Chills dance up my spine as a shadow darkens me from above. I’m about to scream when a hand claps over my mouth. Another goes around my throat, giving it a squeeze.
My husband.
He’s blocked off my nose and airway. My hands go up to pull his arm loose, but he’s as immovable as granite.
His plush voice pours into my ear. “Listen well, wee wife. I don’t like traitors. You’re dying not just because of Aaron but because you betrayed me.”
Panic rises like a flood tide in my chest. Screaming behind his hand, I thrash about, but I’m quickly losing oxygen and strength.
I pass out, only to wake up and make another attempt at fighting.
He’s carried me to the pool, and I see what he plans to do. I’m sitting between his legs on the steps leading into the water. The world tilts and whirls, and the smell of chlorine invades my nostrils. This is the picture of horror.
“No—”
Slapping a palm over my lips, he traps my scream in my throat. He knots my legs under his so I can’t kick free and captures my wrists behind my back. Now the hand that was over my mouth presses into my nape and pushes me underwater.
He’s drowning me. And no one will be any the wiser because he’ll make it look like an accident.
I writhe and struggle with every last shred of energy I have. Screaming and pleading, I toss my head about, trying to reach the surface. But he holds me down, denying me precious air.
I pass out again, and when I come to, he’s fisted my hair and pulled me out of the water. I gasp and flounder for oxygen, control, life.
“Pluhse, Leith!” Water clogs my nostrils, stinging my sinuses and burning my throat.
As he forces my head down to the water’s surface, I gulp in air through my nose and mouth.
“I haven’t yet killed you because first I want to confirm you betrayed me.” His grip on my hair makes my scalp scream. “If I make a mistake, I’ll have to live with that for the rest of my days. Just as you have to live with Aaron’s death.”
I roll my head from side to side, trying to avoid the water. What is he talking about?
“Did you tell Stennis Gilzean all that inside information about me?” he purrs in my ear.
My words come out distorted by bubbles as he holds me against the water. “What information?”
“Frye’s identity, why I went into contract law, details about the Macklin Whyte case. The story about my wanting to be the next boss.”
“No. I didn’t,” I cough out.
“Then how did he know all that?” Leith’s lips graze my ear, sending heated chills down my spine.
“I don’t know. When was this?”
He slams me underwater again, and for a few frenzied moments I think death is upon me. Then he pulls me out, and I’m so relieved, I’d say anything to remain above water. “Just today. You mean to say you never talked to him about any of those subjects.”
“N-never,” I stutter.
“Yesterday. What did you discuss with him?”
My mind is empty, and I race to fill it with lucid thoughts. “Akin Ranabi’s essay collection that Horizons just brought out.”
He twists my head so I’m forced to look him in the eye. “What else?”
“Nowt!”
His quicksilver eyes drill into me, stripping my soul bare. “How did he ken my personal history then?”
“I don’t know.” My ears ring from all the water, and my head aches to beat the band.
But I’m even more troubled because I don’t know what he means. What can Stennis have to do with Leith, apart from helping publish his memoir?
Leith encircles my throat again, letting go of my wrists and pressing me back into his chest. “Who else might have told Stennis all those personal stories about me?”
I’m shaking all over as a delayed reaction from nearly dying. Tears fly off my cheeks, and a sob wracks me. “I don’t know.”
“We’ll ask him.” Leith lifts me in his arms and carries me over to a settee, lowering himself onto it. I realize he’s fully dressed, while I wear only a bikini. He taps through his phone and puts it on speaker as it rings.
“Stennis,” Stennis answers.
“Leith Cargill here.” Leith supports the back of my neck, holding my gaze. “Who was your anonymous source for everything you said in the article today?”
“I’m afraid I can’t divulge that?—”
“Try again. Unless you want your press to be sued for defamation.”
A click sounds, letting us know he’s hung up.
The hint of a malicious smile traces Leith’s lips. “He wants to play it that way, no problem.”
“We’ll see him in court?” I fill in, panting.
“Or elsewhere. This is the Syndicate.” Leith cups my chin and brings my face to his as he leans over and nudges my lips with his tongue.
His breath is minty with an underlayer of coffee.
He steals into my mouth and pilfers its contents, melting everything south of my lower belly.
Gripping my hip, he tangles his fingers in my hair and pulls, deepening our kiss.
I forget who I am and where we are, unable to think of anything but belonging to him.
That one thought roots me to the present. But when he pulls back and lifts me to a seated position in his lap, I recall he just nearly killed me.
I start to leap off his lap, but he’s too quick for me. The arm banding my waist and the fingers wrapped around my throat keep me hemmed in.
“Where do you think you’re going?” His mellifluous voice feathers my ear.
“You were going to kill me!” I cry out.
“But I didn’t. I let you speak for yourself, Scheherazade. You’ve earned yourself another day of life.” He lays a kiss on my temple. “Let’s get into the hot tub so you can warm up.”
I realize I’m quaking from the cold. Standing, he watches me while shedding his clothes down to his boxer briefs. Then he presses a palm to my lower back and ushers me to the hot tub. We climb in, and a groan eases from me. Stretching an arm out behind me, he settles beside me.
“We can’t live like this, Leith,” I say in tones muted by the steam.
“Like what?”
I twist to take in his Roman profile. “Where any moment you may try to kill me.”
The glimmer of a smile lights up his face. “You feel more alive now than ever.”
“Aye, but”—I shake my head, recalling the adrenaline shooting through my veins a few minutes ago—“it’s not worth all that. The stress will take years off my life. How could you suspect me of telling Stennis your secrets?”
He swirls a long finger in the eddying water. “It made sense.”
“I would never do that.”
“Hmm.”
“You’re a lawyer. People are innocent until proven guilty, aren’t they? How would you like it if the judge today denied you bail because he assumed your guilt?”
He pulls me over his lap so I straddle him. “Ultimately I didn’t assume anything.”
His bronzed shoulders remind me of his strength in holding me underwater. His flexed biceps make me think of how he trapped my wrists behind me and forced my head under. And his sinewy thighs recall him braiding our legs together so I couldn’t escape. The brutal power of him makes me shudder.
When I was about to die, my whole life passed before my eyes. Maw, Skye, Lachlan, Grizel, my other friends, everyone surged forth with kind, concerned expressions. And I thought that was goodbye.
Tears well in my eyes. “I don’t want to die.”
“Then die another day.” He thumbs away a renegade tear.
“I’ll run away.”
“You’d need powerful connections to escape me, Flame.” He tilts his head. “I guard my possessions closely.”
“From people who might hurt me?” I scoff.
He pushes a wet strand of hair from my face. “I’m the only one who gets to hurt you.”
For all his twisted logic, I feel strangely safe in his arms.
For now.
He slides my bikini strap off my shoulder and cups my breast, latching onto my nipple.
I groan, throwing my head back as he sucks, swirls his tongue, and takes my nip between his teeth, pulling.
A bolt of painful pleasure zings straight to my core, and I mew with longing.
Lowering my other strap, he repeats this on the other breast, teasing my areola, batting my pebbled bud, and elongating it with his teeth.
“Oh, Leith!” I moan, arching into him.