7. Hunter
Hunter
W hen we emerge from the hotel room, Mace and Reid are waiting for us.
My brothers and I are all suited up and ready to begin negotiations with the Corbyns, although I’ve quickly run out of things to say to Hugo’s sister.
After our conversation in bed this morning, I thought I was getting to know her.
I felt sorry for her. She’d been a pawn in her family’s affairs all her life.
Her three-week engagement to Barrett suddenly made sense.
There’d been no expectation of love, or even affection, which she would have been starved of if the wedding had gone ahead.
I felt sorry for her, protective even. Until she pulled my own damn gun on me.
Then she had my respect. Although perhaps not enough to stop me dragging her into the shower.
There I was thinking I had her all figured out. She has brains and she has guts, not to mention a body I crave more than any woman I’ve ever known. And yes, I would have fucked her by now if she wasn’t still a virgin. But as it turns out, my little bird isn’t as innocent as I thought.
I wonder when she set her sights on me as her commiseration prize. While I’d been fighting the urge to seduce her, Maddie had been busily seducing me. I should listen to Mace more. My brother has a natural distrust of everyone outside our tight circle. And I hate it when he’s right.
I also hate the smirk on his face when he sees Maddie wearing the poor excuse of a dress he acquired from the hotel’s lost and found stash.
It reveals the top of her smooth thighs and the curve of her breasts, but it’s the view from the back she’s more self-conscious about.
She presses against the door, hiding the back of the dress that drapes low enough to reveal the string of her bridal thong.
I can’t blame her for opting to wear it again rather than the second-hand items left in the bag.
And as angry as I am at her, Maddie deserves some dignity.
“Did you bring it?” I ask Reid gruffly.
My youngest brother hands over one of his hoodies to Maddie. The rest of our luggage has already been taken down to the waiting SUV.
“Thank you,” she says, giving Reid the first hint of a smile I’ve seen on her face since she got out of the shower. She hasn’t so much as looked at me.
Without the makeup and the back-combed hair, Maddie’s no longer the sparkly princess.
There’s pain and vulnerability etched on her tired features, but now that I’ve had a glimpse of the inner workings of her mind, I remind myself not to underestimate her.
She uses whatever weapons are available to defend herself.
Sometimes it’s a gun, and sometimes it’s that body.
Thankfully, Reid’s hoodie provides more coverage of those beautiful legs, and Maddie zips it up to her chin. I can’t take my eyes off her, which is why she catches me staring.
She glowers back. “Now the fun’s over, shouldn’t we get going?”
I’m about to push back and tell her it was no fun babysitting a brat, but naturally, the first memory to invade my brain is when I came all over her. I turn on my heels before my cock has a chance to react to the replay going on in my head.
“I hope you’ve both worked up an appetite,” Mace says. “Jake has breakfast waiting for us in the car.”
I quicken my pace down the corridor, my big-mouthed brother by my side. When there’s enough distance between us and Maddie, I turn on him. “Keep your smart remarks to yourself,” I hiss under my breath. “Otherwise, it’s going to be a fucking, long trip.”
“You should just be glad Ash isn’t here.”
I tilt my head. “What have you told him?”
Mace palms the back of his neck. “Don’t worry, he was too busy getting pissy about us missing the codicil to ask how well we were taking care of the blushing bride.”
“Yeah, well, let’s keep it that way,” I mutter as I call the elevator. “If we can get Maddie and her brother to sell, none of it will matter anyway.”
I’m ignoring Maddie’s threat in the shower for now.
As long as I stand firm, she knows she’ll have to accept our deal or let the mill go under.
And I want her to take her share of the proceeds so she can go off and live the life she deserves – away from her family, the Emersons, and us. She’ll be better off on all counts.
After the awkward proximity of the elevator, I tell Reid to sit in the back of the SUV with Maddie while Mace and I take the middle seats.
Jake drives and the passenger seat is piled high with takeout trays.
He knows our orders without asking, and the car’s filled with the scent of freshly brewed coffee, eggs and bacon.
There’s a smoothie for Reid and a choice of a cooked breakfast or a muffin for Maddie. She takes both.
The food keeps us occupied, and conversation is mercifully sparse for the first half of the drive.
Mace and I have strategies to discuss, but for obvious reasons, we can’t talk through our plans in front of one of our marks.
Mace gets around the radio silence by typing away on his laptop, sharing key points with me now and again while I ignore the hairs standing on the back of my neck.
Maddie is sitting behind me, and I swear I can feel her warm breath on my nape.
“Are you going to tell us what happened with the gun?” Reid asks, speaking out of the side of his mouth to Maddie as if they’re having a private conversation.
I shoot Reid a look, but Maddie is happy to answer.
“I put a round in the dresser,” she says. “I wanted to get your brother’s attention.”
“You certainly did that,” I mutter in reply, ignoring the look Mace gives me. I preferred it when he thought she’d misfired and not aimed it deliberately.
I hear her sigh. “Only for two minutes,” she hits back. “At least I think that’s how long you lasted.”
There’s a snort of laughter from the front where Jake grips the steering wheel, but he keeps his gaze fixed ahead.
I’m most surprised at Mace’s half-tilted smile.
Maddie’s smart mouth has actually impressed the bastard.
I’m going to have to watch that. I don’t need them forming a tag team to wind me up.
When we arrive at the airfield, we go straight to the runway.
There’s no mistaking our next ride as we pull up beside a private jet emblazoned with the Griffin logo - the eagle’s beak lining up perfectly with the plane’s nose.
Maddie cranes her neck for a better look as we head for the steps.
If she’s impressed, she disguises it with a roll of her eyes.
“I always think there’s some phallic symbolism going on with private jets,” she tells Reid, who seems to have become her best buddy. “Would you say it’s bigger than Barrett’s? I didn’t really get a proper look at his.”
“It’s big enough to put you in the fucking hold if you keep this up,” I mutter as I stalk onto the plane.
The flight is a short one, making the hour it takes to drive from the airfield to the Corbyn mansion seem endless.
It doesn’t pass my notice how much quieter Maddie grows the closer we get to her home.
In fact, I don’t hear her utter a word in the second SUV we had waiting for us when we touched down.
Jake has timed our trip to perfection and we drive through the elegant gates of the Corbyn mansion with two minutes to spare.
I’d seen a description of their assets on paper.
It was a depressing read thanks to Hugo’s mismanagement, but I’m begrudgingly impressed by their ancestral home.
It’s an impressive colonial-style mansion with a sweeping drive, manicured lawns and no peeling paint in sight.
I should know by now that looks can be deceptive, especially when it comes to the Corbyns.
When I climb out of the SUV, I keep the door open for Maddie, but she simply stares straight ahead at the house. I can see her chest rising and falling steeply.
“Maddie?” I ask, extending my hand towards her.
Her eyes swivel to me. “You won’t leave me here, will you?”
“I might have made that promise under duress, but I keep my word. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”
A breath escapes that’s almost a laugh. “I don’t want to. ”
Reluctantly, she takes my hand and the tension in her clammy grip snakes up through my arm and down my spine. I’d thought maybe it had been embarrassment that had made her so reluctant to come back to Brimstage, but there’s no mistaking the pure terror thrumming through her body.
Against my better judgement, I keep hold of her hand as we walk up to the house, ignoring the looks from my brothers. My stomach churns and my mind spins as Maddie’s hand trembles beneath my fingers. I stroke my thumb across the back of her hand. Something is very wrong.
It’s almost dizzying as yet again, my opinion of Maddie is subjected to another revision. I glance at Mace. “You two stay at my back. I don’t think this is going to go as planned.”
Before either can ask what I mean, the door opens and we’re invited in by an elderly housekeeper whose eyes shine at the sight of Maddie.
It looks as if she wants to offer comfort, but she remains professional and simply asks us to wait in the marbled foyer.
The rising staircase ahead splits in opposite directions.
“He’ll make us wait,” Maddie says as she pulls her hand from my grip.
She fumbles as she searches for the pockets of the hoodie. Reid’s long torso means they’re down by Maddie’s hips, and when she eventually finds them, she hitches up the hoodie so she can slip her hands from view. Her shoulders fold in on themselves.