Owned: A Mafia Menage Romance (52 page)

“Oh I don’t know,” Jackson drawled, turning in his seat to face us. “I’m sure she meant it as a compliment, Dec.”

Declan flared his nostrils and nodded, squinting.

“Actually, Margot,” Jackson continued, his fingers on my forearm, “you don’t have to sign anything.”

Declan narrowed his eyes and stared Jackson down, but Jackson gave no sign of crumpling in the slightest. His sky-blue gaze was as placid as a monk’s while I could feel Declan’s irritation growing like a pan just starting to sizzle over a flame.

Oh now that’s interesting,
 I thought.
I wonder what kind of psychic thumb wrestling match is going on here?

The muscle in Declan’s jaw clenched and unclenched, and I watched his brow slowly relax as he faced off with Jackson in some kind of silent conversation. For the thousandth time, I was vividly aware that their bond was something I couldn’t even begin to understand.

“So what do they say?” I asked suddenly to break the tension. Both men snapped to me almost as if they had forgotten I was there.

“They simply say that I…
we
 can act as your agents. To promote and sell your work.”

“That’s all?” I asked.
Then what’s all the fuss about?

“That’s all,” he nodded.

“Well, that sounds like exactly what you promised me,” I smiled.

“I don’t say things I don’t mean,” he smiled back.

“Well then, hand me that pen,” I declared, producing my hand with a flourish.

“Margot, you don’t have to sign anything,” Jackson repeated. “We’re going to Amsterdam either way. You’re already here.”

“I know that,” I said, drawing myself up and trying to appear as professionally confident as possible. “It’s just business, Jackson. I trust you guys completely… And the foundation of any deal,” I purred as I took the pen and flipped open the document to the last page, “is trust.”

“Precisely,” Declan agreed as I signed my name with a flourish. Jackson sighed and nodded, his face inscrutable. I handed the pen back to Declan and shrugged happily under his approving gaze.

“Amber?” Declan called out after signing his name on each packet.

“Amber?” Jackson repeated quizzically.

“They’re always named Amber,” Declan replied dismissively as the blue- uniformed flight attendant strode smartly down the aisle.

“Yes, sir?”

“We’re ready for the Clos d’Ambonnay now.”

“Very good, sir,” she answered in a breathy sigh that I didn’t like one little bit, I’ll tell you the truth.

“I’m pretty sure her name was Jennifer,” Jackson muttered under his breath.

“So you felt confident I was going to sign, did you?” I said as Declan stacked the papers and replaced them in the envelope.

“Well, if you hadn’t, we would just be drinking a lesser vintage,” he smirked.

Jennifer/Amber rolled a tray with a gleaming ice bucket and three beautiful, delicate champagne flutes. Whipping a white linen from the side of the tray, she draped the fabric over the end and turned the bottle expertly, releasing the cork with a low, throaty
pop
. As she poured out three flutes, Declan plucked them from the tray and set them in front of us.

I picked mine up and held the cool stem between my fingers, watching the tiny lines of bubbles rising magnificently through the deep golden liquid.

“To us,” Jackson offered, giving me a wink.

“To our partnership,” Declan added.

“To all of us,” I sing-songed, hoping that my words split the difference between them. Whatever kind of silent argument they had going on, it seemed to be far from over.

The champagne burst to life on my tongue at the first sip, practically turning instantly into a cool, fruit vapor. I almost wanted to giggle at the sensation.

“OK, that’s different,” I said breathlessly.

“Hm, yes,” Declan agreed. “Gorgeous.”

I took another sip, pausing for a moment to roll the liquid around my mouth. It was such a complex flavor, it was practically visual.

“I swear I can almost
see
 what this takes like,” I said, then chuckled at the absurdity. “OK, that was a goofy thing to say, sorry.”

“No, you’re right,” Jackson said, tipping the flute back and taking a hearty gulp. I watched his throat muscles working efficiently as he swallowed, tempted to lick his neck from top to bottom. “It’s an amazing bottle. The grapes are grown in about an acre and a half in France in a walled garden. Very picturesque. I could take you sometime.”

I giggled abruptly, then wondered if I was drunk already. “You could?”

“Of course,” he said, crinkling his cheeks in a finely chiseled smile. “Anywhere you like.”

“Can we go sip chocolate out of crystal skulls in Peru?”

“I’m sure I can arrange it,” he grinned.

“OK… wait, can we discover a new alien language in the pyramids in Egypt?”

“I’ll have my people get started,” he said with a lazy, raised-eyebrow sigh.

“Wait, no! Don’t let them get too far, I hate having people unwrap my presents for me!” I objected through my giggles. I could feel a hiccup tightening in my chest. But his sky-blue eyes had me pinned, helpless and happy. Even if I wanted to start acting sane, I didn’t think I could pull it off.

“We can go look for artifacts anywhere you want,” he reassured me, sending out waves of affection with his bright white smile. “Just say the word.”

“OK, yeah, after I’m done with her,” Declan interrupted.

“Ignore him,” Jackson said slyly. “He has no vision for discovery.”

“Really?” I said, leaning forward conspiratorially. “I thought he was the acquisitive one. The ‘collector.’”

“Hey!” I heard Declan say from far away.

Jackson nodded and lowered his voice playfully. “Oh, he is, truly. But I sense you’re an
explorer
 at heart, Margot. Like me.”

“Am I?” I giggled helplessly. I found the idea thoroughly flattering.

“Absolutely. An explorer, a witness… In love with the world, with history… Aching to feel a part of it all… Knowing you don’t have to own things to love them…”

“Oh!” I said, suddenly flinching as the truth of his words shot through me like tiny darts. “Yes that’s right!” I gulped, half amazed that he could see that in me.

He nodded again, his smile becoming more brilliant with each passing moment. I felt dizzy and unmoored, as though I was falling into his space.

“Everything I own knows I love it very much,” Declan drawled as he refilled my glass.

“Oh but it’s not about you, Dec,” Jackson said, releasing me from his gaze and straightening in his chair. I nearly fell forward into the void that created and felt remarkably colder from the sudden absence of his presence.

“Not about me?” Declan repeated with a smirk. “Are you sure? Well… OK let’s make it about our lady of the hour then. Margot… Are you planning to tease me all day with those legs?”

“Um…” I started, “tease you?”

He sat back and raised his champagne flute to his lips, his blonde hair just sweeping over his eyes, hooding them slightly.

“I keep trying to not look but…” His gaze dove to my toes then climbed slowly up my shins to my knees. I could feel his eyes tracking over my skin as though he was touching me, and a shiver ran all through me like an electrical current.

As his eyes explored my kneecaps I luxuriated in the electrical, champagne-flavored buzz. Slowly I opened my knees just a touch, reveling in the intense look of interest he shot that exposed inch of inner thigh.

“They’re just legs, Declan,” I demurred.

“If they were
just
 legs, I wouldn’t want them,” he growled.

He sat forward, resting his forearms on his knees and steepling his fingers.

“Show me more,” he demanded.

“No!” I whispered teasingly. “The flight attendant…”

“You want her too? I’m sure she can be persuaded…”

“What?” I gasped, giggling breathlessly, feeling my collarbones going bright pink and humid. “No… No, I mean it.”

But he was already raising a finger in the air. “Amber?” he called out.

“Dec! Stop!” I objected as seriously as I could.

He shrugged. I could hear her footsteps coming up the aisle behind me and widened my eyes in warning.

“OK, well she could maybe just take care of Jackson, then?” he asked innocently.

“No!” I barked out, surprising myself with the volume. My breath caught in my throat and I could hear my blood in my ears as I tried to stamp out any sign of my inner turmoil. I glanced at Jackson to see his reaction. He lifted his chin to the flight attendant with a kind smile.

“Just wondering if we can get some privacy, Jennifer,” he said confidently.

“Oh, of course, sir,” she said and I heard her footsteps promptly retreat and the sound of the curtain being drawn across the aisle.

“Your loss,” Declan said, cocking his head sideways. “So where were we then?”

I suppressed my irritation and squinted at him.

OK, calm yourself, woman,
 I thought.
He was just teasing you anyway.

“I have no memory of us being anywhere,” I said stubbornly.

He raised his eyebrows at me, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips. The plane must have turned because a shaft of golden sunlight swept through the cabin, momentarily haloing him, setting his eyelashes individually aflame.

Christ, you have got to be kidding me,
 I thought in awe as my body sent out warning flares. My skin wanted very much to be handled by that god-like figure glowing in front of me, more or less immediately, thank you very much.

As though he heard me, suddenly he was on his knees in front of me. I flinched and gasped, straining to keep still while my heart banged emphatically in my chest.

His eyes were fixed on my thighs. I could feel the heat.

“Show me,” he demanded.

I stayed completely still, knowing if I did nothing, he would surely do something. I was dying to find out what it would be.

“Margot, I am warning you now,” he growled. “If you don’t do as I ask, there will be consequences.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You don’t threaten me, Declan,” I taunted him.

“Then you haven’t been paying attention,” he said with a superior smirk.

Reaching toward me, he placed a firm hand on my knee and dragged it toward him. His eyes burned into mine as my legs were forced open. I struggled to keep his gaze and not look away, accepting his challenge to the best of my ability.

“Maybe I just don’t scare that easy,” I suggested.

“Or maybe you need some instruction,” he replied. “I’d like to see you there.”

I shook my head. “Excuse me?”

He cut his eyes toward the sofa across the aisle. “There,” he repeated.

I stood slowly from my chair and took two steps toward the long bench, then placed my hands on my hips and gave him a saucy stare. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jackson’s interest escalate. He rubbed hard at his jaw and shifted in his chair.

“Turn around,” Declan commanded.

“Why?” I asked innocently, loving the game.

In an instant he was right in front of me. I commanded my body not to flinch as he stared me down hard, his eyes gleaming and eager.

“Because I want to see your ass,” he growled.

His hand was firm on my elbow, twisting me easily where I stood. Before I knew it I was facing in the opposite direction, the bench hard against my knees. His hands cupped my shoulders and pushed, forcing my upper body forward.

I laid my hands flat on the back of the sofa, bent over with my feet apart. He flung my dress over my hips and yanked my panties down to the top of my thighs. My legs tensed as I realized how exposed and vulnerable I looked, and I wanted to turn away but his hands gripped my hips and held me helpless and immobile.

“Declan,” I began to object.

“You see, I know what you want,” he interrupted. I heard the sound of his zipper going down. His fingers trailed slowly down the backs of my thighs, raising my skin into goosebumps. Despite myself, I felt my legs flex as I went on my tiptoes.

“Yes, that’s very nice,” I agreed hoarsely.

“And this?” he said, stroking the inside of my thighs, pinching me lightly.

“Yes,” I nodded, beginning to relax.

He palmed my buttocks, pulling them apart lightly. I felt the warm head of his cock bounce against the furrow of my ass and sucked my breath through my teeth.

“I know you want this,” he growled. I nodded mutely with my eyes closed, focusing on the sensation of his velvety shaft growing harder with each second. The tight elastic of my panties cut against my thighs like rope.

“Tell me,” he demanded.

“I-- I want it, Declan,” I choked, waving my hips from side to side slowly. I could already imagine it: his hands strong and firm, his thick cock buried in me... his torso bent over mine, covering me completely. It was so vivid in my mind, it almost felt like it was happening and I moaned softly.