Branded (Strand Brothers Series Book 1) (3 page)

I turned to walk away when his firm hand landed on my shoulder. “No tricks, Aimee,” he warned. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

As I tried my best to smile, I fought off a cringe. “Of course, darling,” I said in a saccharine tone. Meanwhile my brain screamed, “Run! Tell him to take a flying leap and run like hell.” If only, that was even a possibility.

Once I rounded the corner, my pace quickened. I was nearly sprinting towards the ladies’ room when—bam—I ran into a wall of muscle.
Crap! It’s probably one of his damn henchmen.
I looked up and up and up through my eyelashes. Finally, I saw the face of the giant I’d bumped into. My goodness, he was freaking gorgeous! He was not only tall but big all over. I was thoroughly convinced that shoulders like his belonged on a football field, not in a hotel corridor. His massive hand came up to steady me so I wouldn’t fall on my butt. There was a rough, raspy sound. “Are you all right?”

Oh my!
The sound was his sexy as hell voice. I stammered, “Um…yes. Yes, I’m alright.”

His lips curved up slightly on one side. “You seem to be in a hurry.”

Wow. That hint of an accent of his was unbelievable. I smiled, “Just need to pee.”
OMG. Did I just say that?!
The odds of me saying anything intelligible around this man were slim to none. “I’m s-sorry. I can’t believe I just said that.”

He chuckled low in his throat. I swear if he did that one more time, I would have an orgasm. “No need for apologies,” he countered. “When you have to go, you have to go.” He motioned with his hand towards the restrooms. “Please, don’t let me keep you.”

“Right. Excuse me.”

I darted into the ladies room and then leaned against the wall. I just met a god. And I needed to hurry, because I really wanted to talk to him some more. Fact was, I actually did need to pee. Ironic. Once I had myself put to rights, I walked back into the hallway where
Thor
was glaring at my intended.
Oh, just shoot me now.
They appeared to know one another, nonetheless their voices were terse, and the tension was thick between them. For whatever reason, I stepped in the middle. But I wasn’t there more than a moment. Caleb yanked me to his side with enough force to knock me off balance. And that was when the heel on my brand-new, lace-up Jimmy Choo’s snapped. I shoved him with both hands. “What the hell, Caleb?”

He squeezed my upper arm so tight I knew I’d have a bruise. At that moment, I caught a movement out of my peripheral vision. A fist came back, and I knew what was about to happen. Or, so I thought. Before
Thor
could make contact, four huge secret service men were on him. Caleb shoved me into action, pushing me up the hallway while I struggled to help my rescuer. I filled my lungs with air to scream, but Caleb’s hand was quicker—clamping over my mouth so snug breathing became difficult.

He roughly shoved me inside a room, all the while I struggled for air. I fell to my hands and knees, gasping. My lungs burned. And it took me a few moments to catch my breath. Then, I heard the door lock. I looked up from under my hair and saw Caleb had drawn his foot back to kick me. I quickly rolled out of his way, which only managed to piss him off more. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what he was doing. I mean, yes, he had threatened to hit me before, but never had he followed through with it. My gut told me that was not the case this time. I beseeched, “Please, Caleb. I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever you say.”

He twisted my hair around his fist. “You’re damn right you’ll do what I say.” He unfastened his slacks and slid them along with his boxers to his knees. “Open your mouth,” he commanded.

I was complying when the door flew in with a loud
thud.
And there stood, in all of his muscular glory, my protector. Caleb fumbled to pull up his pants, but he wasn’t quick enough.
Thor
landed a roundhouse kick to his solar plexus, followed by a dead-on right hook to his jaw that sent him a good two feet across the floor. He sprawled face down with his pants still around his ankles so his ass was bare for all to see. Under different circumstances, it would’ve been funny. A large hand gently reached under my arm to help me up. As I stood, the once beautiful, red chiffon tiered dress slid off my shoulder where the strap had been torn.
Uh…when’d that happen?
I tried to at least keep my breast covered. All of a sudden, an extremely large suit coat was placed around my shoulders.
Thor’s
finger grazed tenderly under my chin to raise my face up so our eyes met. As a tear escaped, I murmured, “Thank you.”

The pad of his thumb caught it. “Hey, now,” he comforted, “It’s okay. I’ll take care of you.” With that vow, I was tucked safely under his arm.

As we left the room, the secret service guys arrived. One of them asked, “Mr. Strand?”
Thor
tilted his head over his shoulder and commanded, “Take care of that.”

*****

I was quickly taken to a limo where my protector steadily assisted me into the back. We sat in silence for most of the drive. While I appreciated the quiet so I could pull myself together, I needed to text Renée. “Do you have a cell phone I can use?”

“Sure.” He handed me his phone. As I began to type my message, I inquired, “Where are you taking me?”

“My place,” he replied.

My text read:
I’m safe. Not home. Will explain tomorrow.  A.

Since I wasn’t using my cell, I hoped she realized it was me. I passed the phone back over to him when it vibrated with a text. He read what was on the screen aloud: “Where’s your cell? No worries. Talk to ya later.” He quirked a brow at me. “Did you want to answer the question?”

I shook my head. “She knows I’m okay.” I affirmed, “That’s all that matters.”

“Indeed.”

I glanced back over at him. “What’s your name?”

He reached over and placed his hand on mine. “Nik.”

Puzzled, for a moment, I tried to figure out how I knew that name, and then it hit me. “As in business mogul, ex-heavyweight UFC champion, Nik Strand?” I could hear the awe in my voice. Did he?

He inclined his head. “Yes.”

Holy crap! I turned my hand so I could lace my fingers with his. “I’m Aimee Taylor.”

He chuckled low and squeezed our hands together. “Nice to meet you, Aimee.”

Chapter Two

Aimee

There was no rhyme or reason as to why this man felt so familiar to me. As we walked into his penthouse, I studied his face. His bone structure would make a sculptor cry with joy, but I knew I’d never seen him before tonight. Or, had I? That was the confusing part of it all. Also, it didn’t escape my notice he was inspecting me as well. So I shouldn’t have been surprised by the extraordinary heat that passed between us when he placed his hand on the small of my back to lead me further into the room. I’d felt the waves of attraction before, but this was more—as if my body recognized his. Where did I know him from? I mean, sure, everybody knew who he was. Still, there was something else I couldn’t put my finger on.

He stepped away, and, for some unknown reason, I felt bereft. He offered, “Would you like something to drink?”

Ah, I could orgasm from his voice—which was laced with a barely there accent—alone if he kept talking. Again, there was a hint of familiarity I couldn’t quite place. I replied, “I’d love a brandy.”

He approached the sideboard and prepared my drink. The man was sheer perfection—all sharp lines and hard muscle, not to mention
huge
. He must still work out a lot for his body to look like that. My fingers itched to run through his glorious mane, which was at least six shades of blond. Women paid a high price for hair like his. When he returned to sit next to me, I got my first good look into his eyes. My goodness, they were glacial blue, intense and shrewd. Reality hit, this was a man who got exactly what he wanted when he wanted it. No questions asked.
Hmm…I’d only ever seen irises like his once before. Interesting.

I accepted the drink he handed me. “Thank you for everything.”

There was a ghost of a smile on his perfectly etched lips. Heavens, the man was pure masculine perfection. I wondered what his face would look like with a full megawatt smile. I was willing to bet it would be panty dropping. I held the sifter in my hand and tried not to stare at him. He gently removed my glass and set it on the coffee table. With his fingers stroking my jaw, he turned my face towards him. “Why don’t you tell me how you know Reynolds?” He spoke Caleb’s surname as an expletive. There was definitely some bad blood between the two.

Instead of answering his question, I asked one of my own. “What happened to make you hate him so much?”

His steely gaze held mine. Unbidden, an image of a Viking came to mind. Fierce. Powerful. Oh, this man was a force to be reckoned with. And God help me, I was more than a little turned on. He countered, “I asked first.”

Yes. Yes, he did. “Point taken,” I conceded. I looked down at my hands for a moment and willed myself to spit out my story. I knew once I did, he would want nothing to do with me. I reached over for my glass and downed the rest in one gulp. His eyes widened in surprise. I replaced it on the coffee table and squared my shoulders. “He was my
client
.”

“Client?” he inquired, “What business are you in?”

Inhale. Exhale. “I’m a high-priced call girl.”

His brows hit his hair line. “Say what, now?”

That would’ve been funny if I wasn’t so damn attracted to him. “A prostitute,” I clarified.

“I know what a call girl is, sweetheart,” he snorted.

Shit! I didn’t mean to insult him. “Sorry.” I confessed, “I had no intentions of insulting your intelligence.”

That earned me a slight curve of his lips. “I’m not insulted,” he acknowledged, “However, I am confused. What was the proposal all about?”

I stood and walked back over to grab the decanter of brandy. I was going to need more alcohol for this conversation. I returned back to the sofa and offered, “Refill?”

He nodded and held up his sifter. After I filled both glasses, I sat back down and took a healthy swallow. I continued, “I haven’t been with anyone else in six months.”

“Because he paid you to be
only
with him?”

“Yes. He asked me to marry him three months ago, but I refused. Obviously, he didn’t give up. He finally found a way to get me to capitulate.”

The room temperature dropped a good fifteen degrees. I hugged myself tightly, rubbing my hands up and down my arms. Then it hit me, the chill was coming from him. His gaze was hard as ice, and his voice was laced with violence. “He threatened you?”

“You could say that.”

He glared at me. “How?”

I eased away from him before I answered, “The usual. Career, family, friends—basically anything that means something to me.”

He was flabbergasted, but that didn’t stop his inquisition. “He knows your real name?”

“Yes. I never used an alias because I wasn’t living a double life. I did, however, use a different last name strictly for protection. Though, he eventually learned my real one. But how are you aware that’s common practice in my line of work?”

He dubiously replied, “I wasn’t born yesterday, Aimee.”

“Fair enough. The point is, I was trying to get out and start my career. I had a sweet job lined up in San Francisco. I never intended to do this long term. I always had a plan.”

He graced me with a genuine half-smile.
Fuck. Me.
It was the kind of smile that would make any woman do anything he asked of her, and she would do so just to please him. I had to wonder what kind of damage a full smile that reached his eyes would do to me, or anyone else of the female persuasion. I actually lost my train of thought.
What were we talking about?
“And your plan was?” he prompted.

Oh right, now I remembered what I was saying. “I’m going to own and operate at least one hotel and resort.”

He leaned back with a smug expression on his face. “Do tell.”

“My degree is in business and hotel management. Unfortunately, I need some hands on experience before I dive right in. So, I was going to work for a small five star hotel in San Fran to get my feet wet. They were fully aware of my plans, and the agreement was to meet with the silent partner at the end of the year. If all went well, I’d own my first hotel.”

“Which hotel?”

“The Fairmont.”

“You don’t say. I find this information interesting.” He steepled his fingers in front of his mouth. “You said ‘was,’ not are. What changed?”

What was that look about? I could not read his face, but I had a feeling he knew something I didn’t.
Grr!
“My instructions from Caleb were to cancel all of my arrangements. Therefore, I had to inform my prospective employers there had been a change in plans.”

“I see.”

“Yes, well.” I sighed heavily.

“Was he specific in what he would do to your family and friends?” he inquired.

“Not really. I mean, let’s face it; he could make their lives a living hell if he chose to. I can’t live with that. I won’t. So really, what choice did I have?”

“Is your family aware of your present job?”

“It’s not my
job
any longer. I’m serious about leaving it all behind and starting over, which had been my intention all along. I was only going to escort. But then my dad lost his job, and that meant no insurance to pay for his chemo. They needed money, and I wasn’t about to tell them where it was coming from. It would break their hearts.”

“Why escorting?”

“Student loans. And my dad was diagnosed with cancer.” I sighed. “My best friend talked me into it.” I hoped it didn’t sound like I had just blamed Renée for my circumstances.

He only nodded, deep in thought. “I can help you,” he declared.

I was not expecting that. Honestly, I was growing skeptical. What if he offered to
hire
me? Yes, I was more than attracted to him, but I was no longer hiring myself out. That chapter of my life was over—the end. “How, exactly?”