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Authors: Lisa Renee Jones

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BOOK: Demand
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“He hasn't come for you because he doesn't know where you are.”

“He'll find me.”

“But we've found him first, Ella. That's what matters. We've found him, and we will hurt him in ways he's never imagined.”

“Translate that.”

“Evil Eye will be evoked. You are mine and they are yours. The attacks will come hard, fast, and vicious. His people will doubt him. His world will crumble.”

“When?”

“I have key members flying in for a meeting in a week for the vote.”

“So it's not guaranteed that they'll take him down.”

“The meeting is more about planning than approval. I lead Evil Eye—and if I can confirm that Niccolo is dying, that makes the dynamics of this interesting,” he says. “A shift of power from both mafia leaders has to be handled with care, but if done right, it could weaken both organizations.”

I study him closely. “Why haven't you sent them after Niccolo, Kayden?”

“I set this organization up based on order and honor. Not an easy thing to do, when not every Hawk is about honor. There are rules and a burden of proof. If I step around that, then everyone will expect to do the same, and that can lead to dangerous places.”

“What proof do you have of what happened to me?”

“Niccolo is providing me proof.”

“Which is what?”

“Do you really want to hear this?”

“Yes. It's my life. I don't want to be sheltered, and I'm not going to have a meltdown here.”

“The woman at the club helped you reach out to Niccolo, and she owes him a favor. She says she took a picture of you after the beating and I have to use it, Ella.”

I have a fleeting memory of her stroking my hair the night I'd bitten that bastard's tongue. Anger overrides shame, and I drink the rest of my wine. “Have you seen the photo?”

“Not yet.”

“Won't it make me look weak to The Underground?”

“You survived and escaped a mafia king. You do not look weak.”

“I'm not weak,” I repeat, maybe trying to convince myself, which really sucks. “I don't want to see the photo.” I down his wine, too. “Do they have tequila? I have some noise in my head right now I'd like to mute, and since we can't have sex, it seems like a good option.”

He lifts his hand and a waiter appears, and after a short conversation, Kayden stands up. “Come on.”

“We're leaving?” I ask, letting him pull me to my feet.

“I want to show you a taste of Italian nightlife next door. They'll hold our coats here.”

“Okay,” I say, feeling slightly dizzy. “But I'd better skip that tequila. Apparently the wine did the job.” He wraps my waist to steady me and leads me to the back of the restaurant and down a hallway. We reach a door he opens and suddenly there is loud Italian pop music, dim lights, and a narrow stairway.

Kayden puts me in front of him, his hands on my hips, and we walk up the stairs. I'm greeted at the top level by a blue-hued darkness and a dance floor filled with people. Scanning, I find an oval bar to the left, and some sort of sky bridge up above. Kayden steps to my side and drapes his arm around my shoulder, leading me to the bar, where he orders drinks.

“This doesn't seem like your kind of place,” I say, leaning on the bar.

“Bars are gutters of information,” he says, leaning on the bar next to me, his arm pressed to mine. “And as a bonus, there are drunk people divulging it left and right.”

“Now it seems like your kind of place,” I say, and not for the first time, I think of his skill as a chameleon.

Two shots appear in front of us and Kayden stuffs euros into the ticket tray before lifting both of the glasses and facing me. “Bottoms up, sweetheart,” he says, offering me mine.

I accept it but don't drink. “I'm pretty tipsy.”

His hand slides around my hip to my backside, easing me closer. “I'll protect you.” But the way he says it is more like,
I'll give you ten orgasms
. Motivated, I down the drink, grimacing at the taste.

He laughs and downs his shot, then sets our glasses on the bar. “Come on,” he says, leading me past the dance floor and through the crowd, our destination a set of stairs leading to the sky bridge. Again, he places me in front of him and holds on to my hips, and it's a good thing he does. The steps are narrow and I really, really feel a buzz now. Once we're at the bridge level, Kayden leads me down a hallway away from the bridge, and then to another set of stairs with a chain across them.

“Doesn't the chain mean this area is closed?” I ask.

“I know the owner.” He lifts me over the chain, joins me, and we climb yet more stairs until we reach a closed area of the bar. “Our private party,” he says, snagging my fingers and leading me to the railing that wraps around the center room below.

“This is the best place to be in a bar,” Kayden says as we gaze down at the crowd. “Above the world.”

I face him. “You can't get those drunken secrets up here.”

“From up here, you target those who have them and are drunk enough to talk about them.”

“You always have an angle,” I say, and suddenly my head spins and I sway. Kayden catches my waist and walks me backward several feet until I'm leaning against a big beam, his powerful legs holding me steady.

Then an American song starts playing.
I can't feel my face when I'm with you. But I love it. But I love it.
I start laughing. “I really can't feel my face, Kayden. But I like it. If I didn't trust you, I couldn't let myself be like this right now.”

“Because you know—”

“I know that you are all kinds of tattooed hotness, Kayden Wilkens. Hawk.”

His lips curve. “Is that you talking or the wine?”

“It's called liquid courage.”

“You're adorably drunk.”

I stroke his cheek, which feels much better than mine. “But you're here, and you are The Hawk and I know I'm safe.”

“You
are
safe with me, Ella.”

“I am, but you're dangerous to everyone else.”

His expression sobers. “Is that what you think of me?”

“Don't go getting serious on a drunk person. I didn't mean that negatively—you're everyone's protector.” I grab his T-shirt. “I meant that the bad guys are in trouble when they piss you off. And I meant it like you're a badass, thus the ‘you're sexy' comment. Wait. Did I say that or think that? I'm saying it now. You're sexy.”

He flattens his hand at the small of my back. “Badass?”

“Badass.”

“Do you know how badly I want to be inside you right now? Right here?” His hands go to my sides, traveling to my breasts, his thumbs stroking my nipples to hard peaks.

I grab his hands as my cheeks flush. “Too bad I wore jeans. You'll have to behave.”

“Will I?” he asks, flicking my nipple.

I grab his wrists, firming my voice. “Stop, because yes, you do. I am not getting undressed in public.”

He reaches down and fingers the easily undone laces that line the front of my jeans. “I'll settle for you having an orgasm until we get home.”

I reach for his hand. “I can't have an orgasm in public, either,” I say, but my body betrays me, my sex clenched and wet.

“That sounds like a challenge—and this is barely public.” He pulls several of my laces loose. “I told Niccolo I couldn't command you to orgasm. I want to try.”

“You can,” I assure him. “You can pretty much just look at me and I'm wet.”

“Are you telling me you're wet now?”

“Very—so take me home and do something about it.”

His hand goes to my jaw and he drags my gaze to his.

“I never thought I'd use the word
home
again—let alone have a woman I want to use it with. I love you, Ella.”

“I love you too—” He slips his fingers beneath the laces and suddenly they're intimately pressed to my sex. “That was unfair!”

“You're not wearing panties,” he observes, slipping a finger inside me.

“Kayden—”

“And you are very, very wet.” His head lowers, lips at my ear. “I would kill to feel you around me right now.”

I pant, and my sex clenches around his fingers. “You're about to embarrass me.”

“No one can see us.”

“That's not what I mean. I mean—” He thumbs my clit and presses another finger inside me. “I'm going to come really fast.” He kisses me, a deep slide of his tongue, and oh . . . oh . . . I stiffen and come. That fast, hard. My body shakes and quakes and I collapse against him, burying my face in his chest. “See? Embarrassing.”

“Try sexy as hell, and I'm hard as fuck. Now I'm taking you home.” He goes down on a knee in front of me and starts lacing up my jeans, and a shadow catches my eye on the other side of the room.

“Kayden,” I say urgently. “I think someone is here.”

He stands and turns to scan the room, wrapping his arm around my waist. “What did you see?”

“A shift in the shadows. I know I'm drunk, but someone was watching.”

He unzips my purse and puts my hand on Annie. “Probably a kid, but stay here. I want to be sure.”

I lean against the wall and watch as he walks the entire floor, and Garner's words play in my head again.
I will find you
. I shake off the memory and hug myself when Kayden returns with no evidence of our voyeur. “Nothing?”

“Nothing obvious,” he says, “but if you say someone was there, I believe you.”

“It felt—”

He cups my face. “I know what you're thinking, but it wasn't him. Garner Neuville is not here. But I am. Okay?”

“Yes. It's the rawness of my memories and the alcohol.”

“Which is understandable.” He takes my hand. “Let's get out of here.”

We head for the stairs, and I have such a strong feeling of being watched again that the hair on the back of my neck stands up. Which makes no sense. Kayden just checked the room. I'm officially done with drinking.

Bundled up again, Kayden and I exit into the cold night. “This way,” Kayden says, turning us left, his arm around my waist. “We have two left turns to reach the castle.”

“I'm never going to figure out these small clusters of streets.”

“Landmarks,” he says. “Look for restaurants.” He points to a green sign. “That's a pharmacy sign. They're always easy to find.”

We turn left onto another busy street lined with restaurants, and my head spins a bit. “I'm still tipsy, so I'm not likely to remember it tonight.” I sober a bit with memories of the bar. “I really thought I saw someone back there, Kayden.”

“And I really do believe you.”

“But I had this moment when I thought it was
him
. I hate that I'm letting him get to me.” We turn left onto one of the streets that's more alleyway than road, with parked motorcycles in clusters along the walls and little alcoves here and there, and I'm immediately uncomfortable. “I know I'm drunk, but—”

“I feel it, too.”

I reach under my coat and unzip my purse, just in time. Someone jumps out at me from an alcove, and instinct kicks in. I throw an elbow, whirl around, and shove my knee into my attacker's groin. He grunts and falls to his knees, and I point my gun at him.

“Kayden?” I call, glancing over my shoulder to see him slam a gun into the head of another man, who collapses next to yet another who's already on the ground.

The man in front of me groans and rolls to his back. Kayden is there instantly, shoving his foot into the man's chest. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I say, while Carlo and two other men appear seemingly out of nowhere and point weapons at the fallen men.

“Bitch,” the man on the ground growls at me.

“That bitch took you down while she's drunk,” Kayden tells the man. “Who sent you?”

“Fuck you,” the man grumbles.

“I'll be your bitch,” Carlo offers, placing his foot on my attacker's hand and giving it a crunch, apparently pretty hard because the man makes a horrible sound.

“Who sent you?” Kayden demands of the man.

“I don't know,” the man growls and when Carlo starts to apply pressure again, he says, “It was a cash pickup. I never saw the person.”

“What were your instructions?” Kayden asks.

“We were supposed to scare the girl and make her feel like you can't protect her.”

Carlo laughs. “And then
the girl
beat your ass.” He glances at me. “Remind me not to piss you off.”

Kayden tells him, “Tie them up and dump them on Gallo's doorstep.” He turns to me, and it's only then that I realize I'm still pointing my gun. He takes it from me and sticks it back in my purse. “It's done.” He links my arm around his, and sets us walking toward the castle, removing his phone to punch in a number.

BOOK: Demand
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