Disgrace (32 page)

“Jason, I—” I hate the waiver in my voice. I hate that I am not brave.

“I know you do, Sam.” His knuckles brush my cheek as his other hand slowly supports my slide down his body to the ground. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready.” He kisses the tip of my nose.

“This has been the best night of my life.” I am embarrassed as my eyes instantly pool with tears. I didn’t think I was an emotional wreck as well as a crazy jealous person, but this weekend has been an education on many levels. I blink back the tears. Jason beams at me and in one final, grand romantic gesture, he sweeps me into his arms and carries me up the steps and all the way to bed.

“Y
ou know I’m a sure thing, right? You don’t need to impress me with the fancy dinners, gifts and the private jet.” Sam is sitting beside me, seductively stroking the plush leather sofa as we taxi to take off in Daniel’s plane, heading home. Her smile is shy and I cover her hand with mine and squeeze. Her words might be all confident bravado, but the uncertainty in her eyes belies the insecurities that consume her. She needs time. I get that, but at least I am happy that I told her how I feel. However, actions speak louder and all that…

“You’re not
a
sure thing beautiful, you are
my
sure thing.” I try to lift her hands free to kiss her fingers, but they have this death-grip going on, white knuckles and fingernails that look like they are going to pierce the leather on the armrest. “You don’t like to fly?”

She swallows and shakes her head. A nervous smiles flits across her lips. “Necessary evil, but I fucking hate it.” She grimaces and clenches her jaw tight.

“Would you like me to take your mind off it?” I drop my tone and whisper the words close to her ear. She briefly giggles out a relaxing breath but almost instantly stiffens again.

“What do you propose?” She arches her brow, and despite her obvious fear, her pupils dilate. I chuckle.

“Nothing like that until we’ve reached altitude, but if you are a brave girl, I’ll reward you.” I drag my tongue slowly over my lips, my intention perfectly clear by the distracted grin spreading wide across her face. “How about a game? Random rapid-fire questions? The winner gets to come on my tongue.” She squeals out a sexy little laugh.

“You’re either very confident or very flexible.” She teases.

“I’m very confident.” I wiggle my brow and flash my widest smile. I love the way her breath catches when I do that, every… single… time. The impact is the same for me, but I feel it like a direct hit to the chest, completely fucking winded. “So, any questions at all, but you have to answer truthfully.”

“Sounds dangerous.” Her sceptical tone is accompanied by a wary expression.

“Sounds like fun. You start.” I wink.

“Wait, are there rules?”

“Oh, beautiful, there are
always
rules.” I smirk, and she rolls her eyes playfully. This is already working. Her knuckles are now a pale pink colour. “If you hesitate, you get a forfeit of
my
choosing.” My voice drops an octave with the salacious warning.

“Are you always this arrogant?” she quips.

“Yes. Now stop stalling. We reach cruising altitude in about fifteen minutes, and I’m hungry.” I turn to face her, and she shifts in her seat, her cheeks colour with a deep blush, but she has actually released her death-grip.

“Bring it on, big boy.” She cups her fingers as a challenge. “But if I win, I get to pick my own forfeit, right?”

“Agreed.” I slowly draw in my bottom lip, and she stifles a moan. The delicate sound goes straight to my balls.

“Okay. What’s the capital city of Uzbekistan?” She smirks, and I purse my lips. She plays dirty.

“You get a double forfeit if you don’t know the answer to the question you pose. Just thought I should warn you.” I hold her gaze and try to read her tells.

“Changing the rules already?” she challenges, her face implacable.

“Clarifying the rules, and the answer is Tashkent.” Her eyes widen, and I close her mouth with my finger.

“Favourite colour?” I don’t pause.

“Red. Is that really the capital?” She bites her lips too late to stop and hide her mistake.

“Oh, Sam, tsk tsk.” I shake my head, and she shrugs sheepishly. “Honest answers remember, and yes, it is. Next question.” She taps her lips with one finger, her brow lightly furrowed in thought.

“Who’s the eldest Marx brother?” She smiles, happy with her random question.

“Chico. Who’s your favourite band?” I reply without hesitation, keeping the pressure on.

“Pink,” she calls out, almost a yell.

“Not a band but I’ll let you have that.”

I raise my brow for her next question. She looks flustered then shouts, “Who painted The Water Lily Pool?”

“Monet. I’m surprised you’re not taking the same opportunity as I am, Sam. It hasn’t gone unnoticed that none of your questions are personal.” I tap her nose when she scrunches it. “Trying to trip me up or afraid to get a little personal?” I tease.

“Is that your question?” She arches her brow, but tenses at my observation.

“No. What’s your favourite desert?” I continue without much of a pause.

“Pavolva, any flavour. I love meringue. How did you find me?” I raise my brow at her first personal question.

“Your bracelet is tracked.” Her jaw drops again, but I continue to elaborate. “I knew the direction you were travelling, but Leon filled in the important blanks, or it would’ve taken me a little longer to get to you. I was
always
going to find you, Sam.” My tone is completely serious, and her lips curve into a tender smile before her mouth changes shape.

“Oh.” She exhales.

“Oh. I actually understand where Daniel is coming from for the first time.” Her perfect brows furrow, confused at my statement. “He is very protective of Bethany. I understand why given what they went through, but still, I thought at times it was a little over the top.”

“And now?”

“And now, I completely understand.” I hold her gaze, and she blinks at the intensity then peers sheepishly through her long thick lashes when she speaks.

“I’m glad you came.”

I swear my heart misses a beat. “I’m glad I came, too.” I brush her cheek, and she flashes the sweetest smile. I hold her hand, and her cuff slides down her arm. I frown at the loose fit.

“What’s the matter?” Her expression flashes with concern, and she fiddles with her cuff nervously.

“It’s loose. It could come off and then…” I draw in a deep breath but don’t follow through the unpleasant line of thinking. It’s not like I can lock her away, but dammit, sometimes it would make everything so much easier. The need to protect what’s mine almost outweighs the need to be a rational human being. “Tracking only works if you’re wearing whatever has the tracker and this”—I hold her wrist and shake her arm; the cuff almost slips off her wrist, perfectly proving my point—“is a problem.” She worries her bottom lip, and I pick it from her teeth. “
If,
for example, someone were kidnapped, it’s likely the first thing that would happen is that person would be stripped. We have come up with something but it still relies on access to a smart phone.” I mutter still looking at her cuff.

“What do you mean?” Her face brightens, and she turns fully to face me, keen to learn more. Whether for her own safety or not, I’m not sure, but she knew enough about Bethany’s kidnapping to know this isn’t a topic Stone Enterprises R & D department takes lightly.

“In the unlikely event I ever let you out of my sight and someone took you, if you could get to a phone, all you would have to do is punch in my code, and a secret signal would start transmitting GPS co-ordinates to my head office security and my phone.” She nods. “But what’s really clever is it also sends details of other GPS equipment nearby that I can then tap into. So if you are on a plane or in a car, I can alter the information, slow you down or change the destination undetected. It gives me an unseen advantage and time to rescue you.”

“Oh, that is clever,” she coos with genuine wonder. I grin.

“It’s still a prototype, and it
still
needs the initial phone to activate the signal, but we’re working on that. It would be much easier if I could just implant a tracker under your skin.” Her eyes widen, and I realise I said that out loud.

“You are not implanting a tracker on me like some dog!” Her tone is indignant, and I hold up my hands in surrender. Not a battle for now; she won’t even wear my collar. I don’t fancy my chances of her ever agreeing to a permanent tracker.

“Just a thought.” I chuckle.

“Well, keep thinking, buddy,” she warns. Her eyes narrow, but she fails to hold her outrage, and her features starts to soften. “You
can
tell me the pin number though.” She runs her fingernail along my cheek and down my jaw, scratching the two-day-old stubble.

“It’s the day you stole my heart.” I laugh when she frowns deeply.

“Care to give me a clue?” she coaxes. I slap my hand to my heart with mock hurt.

“If you don’t know, I don’t think you deserve to be rescued,” I quip.

“Fine, forget it.” She waves off my wound with a light shake of her head. “I believe it’s your question.” She sniffs, her remark has an indignant air, no doubt a result of my thigh-lipped response to her plea for a clue.

“What’s your biggest fear?” I fire off without drawing breath.

“Telling someone I love them.”

Her answer makes me stop. I hold her gaze. Her eyes glaze with vulnerability, and despite the illuminated seatbelt sign, I unclip her and lift her into my lap. She curls around my body as best she can. Her arms thread around my neck, her knees tucked tight against my chest.

“Why?” I sweep her sable-soft hair behind her ear and lift her chin. She is silent for long moments, but I just wait. A little time is nothing if she will open up a little more.

“I thought I loved Richard.” She swallows thickly, and her lashes are instantly heavy with tears. “I had to tell him I loved him
all
the time, and he would use it against me. He insisted if I really loved him, then I should do anything he asked. Who am I kidding? He didn’t ask, he demanded. Anyway, whatever he did was always worse after he made me tell him I loved him.” She actually starts to tremble, and I can feel an angry fire burn in my belly. I wish I had taken that fucker out when I had the chance. I take small comfort in knowing Leon will make sure he legally can’t enter the country, and I know from my brother that the CIA is keeping closer tabs on him. I hope he fucks up. I hope he rots in jail and more. But I’d still like my time with him now that I know the damage he caused this precious creature in my arms. I’d like my five minutes for retribution. I wouldn’t need more time than that to sever his dick, slice his balls from his body with my own whipping skills. She settles and lets out a sigh so sad my heart aches. “I’m sorry, Jason. I really care for you but…”

“Yeah, you do beautiful.” I cover her lips to stop her pointless apology. She may not be able to tell me, but I feel it in my soul, as real as her flesh and bones in my arms. Her words aren’t necessary, and if one day she decides they are, she’ll tell me. “No more talking. I’m hungry.” Her eyes flare with understanding.

“Did you win?” she asks

“I have you. Of course I won.” I swoop to steal the breath just poised to escape her sweet mouth.