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Her head roared, every muscle tensed and Matty let herself fall into the void. She clamped her mouth shut but muffled groans escaped as the spasms bit. Moments of sweet ecstasy faded too fast to sleepy, satiated pleasure. Even before the last clenching bite had died away she wanted more.

“That was hot.”

Her eyes flashed open and she yanked her hands from her pants. Catch stood leaning against the door of the attic.
Oh fuck.

“You could have knocked,” she snapped.

He grinned. “Now where would be the fun in that?”

Chapter Twelve

Matty watched without blinking as Catch looked around the attic space and took in her makeshift bed, her scattered clothes and her books until finally his gaze landed on her. She was mortified he’d caught her with her hands down her pants and her heart raced as she waited for some smartarse comment. When he narrowed his eyes and licked his lips, Matty shuffled away on her butt off the side of the mattress.

“You live up here?” he asked.

“Yes.”

The moment he stepped far enough away from the door, she would run. Something about the guy had her all mixed up inside, fear and desire wrestling for control of her brain and body.

“Why?”

Matty scrambled to her feet and readied herself for flight. “Because I can.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s in the contract Turner signed. I’m allowed to live in the attic.”

Catch frowned. “Why would you want to live up here? There are plenty of bedrooms.” His mouth twitched in a smile. “Want to go and try out a couple? Bounce on a few beds?”

“I don’t think Turner would like that.” She stepped nearer freedom.

His scowl returned along with tensed shoulders. “So are you…together?”

“Yes.” In a manner of speaking.

“Have you fed him?”

What sort of question was that? Did he really think a woman’s place was in the kitchen? And what was with the clenched fists? “Well, I offered to feed him.”

“What? And he refused?”Catch’s beautiful eyes widened.

Matty could hardly force food down Turner’s throat. He’d eaten
some
of the birthday cake. “I persuaded him to have a little nibble at—”

Catch made a weird noise in his throat that sounded uncomfortably like a low growl. She slid a step nearer the door.

“Like to come and show me how those trick bolts work?” he asked. “You have me intrigued.”

“No.” Matty sidled past her books and trembled as Catch came after her. “I need to speak to Turner. He might not want you in his house.”

“No point trying until after sunset.” Catch glanced at the skylight and Matty sprang for the door.

She heard him give a whoop of glee, and even as she registered he was thrilled at the thought of chasing her again, she realized the idea excited her too.
Damn it.
Matty didn’t step on the treads but almost flew down the stairs. She laughed, bolted along the gallery and dashed down the final flight only to slam to a halt when Catch landed right in front of her, green eyes flashing like some weird alien.
He’d jumped from the landing?

Matty squealed and made for the dining room. There was another exit in there, but she dashed around the table, doubled back, sprinted to the breakfast room and into the butler’s pantry.

When the door opened, she was crouched in a tiny space behind the wine storage unit. No way could he see her and she doubted he’d find her. Matty had hidden here as a child and never been caught.

“You do realize all this chasing after you has made my cock hard as iron,” Catch whispered. “It’s fighting a battle with my zipper and winning, though it’s going to come out tattooed with zip marks.”

Matty grinned.

“I know you’re in here,” he said.

Her grin evaporated.

“I can smell you. All sweet and luscious and flowery. Do you taste as good as you smell? Can I at least lick those naughty fingers?”

Oh God.

“Might as well give up,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere. You have to come out eventually.”

That was true. As good a hiding place as it was, there was no other way out of the room, and what was a comfortable space for a child was a bit tight for an adult.

“You didn’t count to twenty before you ran after me,” Matty said, and stood up. “You cheated. I want another go. Close your eyes.”

Catch sighed. “Okay. One, two…”

Matty fled the room. Her heart pounded as adrenaline surged. Could she get to the secret compartment in the hall and get inside it before he saw her? Doubtful, and she didn’t want to give away another hiding place.
Oh this is fun.

Catch brought her down in the middle of the hall, her knees and elbows colliding with the hard surface, and she groaned. As she tried to wriggle free, Catch dragged her back by an ankle. Matty gave up scrabbling and flipped onto her back.

“Okay,” she panted. “Your turn now. I’ll count to twenty. One, two…”

Catch jumped to his feet but only took a couple of steps before he turned and glared. “You’re not even going to look for me, are you?”

Damn.
“Might take awhile.”

“You little tease.” He threw himself at her.

Matty yelped and rolled to one side but he anticipated her movement and landed to wedge her hips with his knees, her shoulders with his hands. Lust surged through her veins and her panties dampened. She thought he’d kiss her, but he wrapped her wrists together, yanked them over her head one-handed and tickled her under her arm. Matty was instantly hysterical, alternately screaming and laughing as she struggled to get free.

Turner opened his eyes and sighed. He’d had a dream. One of those embarrassing ones where he suddenly found himself naked in a public place. Matty had been there with a load of women…and Catch. The fucking treacherous bastard otherwise known as Logan. Turner rolled over and sat up.

Even before he stood, he registered the scream and ran.

How come my door’s unlocked?

Turner wondered if he should have stopped to find a weapon or at least yanked on pants, but when he reached the top of the stairs and saw Matty struggling underneath a big blond guy, he didn’t hesitate. With every cell urging him to kill the bastard, he launched himself over the banister, landed behind Matty’s attacker and hauled him off.

“Turner, it’s okay, we’re playing,” Matty shouted.

He had his arm tight around the guy’s throat, but without seeing his face, without needing to take in Matty’s words or her horrified expression, Turner knew who it was. Clamping his lips together so Matty couldn’t see his fangs, Turner jerked Catch around to face him and then let him go.

Oh God. It can’t be. It can’t.

“Hello, Turner,” Catch said.

Shit.

“We were playing chase.” Catch rubbed his neck. “You know what a problem I have if someone runs. It’s in my genes.”

Turner stared at the hard ridge in Catch’s pants. “So it is.”

“You okay?” Matty asked.

Was he okay? In the space of a few moments Turner moved from murderous fury to complete confusion and back to fury, though no longer murderous.

“Nothing happened,” Catch said.

Matty scrambled to her feet and tugged down her sweater. “You rushed to help me? Thank you. I really am all right. This idiot’s like a big puppy.”

Turner’s fangs finally gave up and retreated.

“See?” Catch said. “Everything’s fine.”

Turner hit him as hard as he could on the jaw. Catch flew backward and landed on his ass. Surprise competed with shock on his face.

“Now everything’s fine,” Turner said, and walked back upstairs.

Except it wasn’t. How could it be? He’d moved house to escape his past and it had barreled up to bite him on the backside. Turner slammed into his room and stalked to the shower. He stood under the torrent and faced the wall, his hand around his cock, frantically jerking himself off. What the fuck was wrong with him?

He cut off a deep groan and froze when he heard the bathroom door open, not sure who he wanted this to be.

“Turner?” Matty whispered.

“Go away.”

“I heard you groaning. Are you all right? Did you hurt your hand when you hit him?”

Turner unwrapped his fingers from his cock before she realized what he was doing. “No.”

“Shall I throw him out?”

His mouth twitched. “He’ll just boomerang back. Seems the two of you have something in common.”

“He says he’s here to protect you.”

Turner switched off the water and reached to snag a towel from the rail. He wrapped it around his waist, held it bunched up in front so she couldn’t see his erection and stepped out of the shower.

“Is he an old friend?” she asked. “He claims he’s known you for twenty years. Is he lying?”

“Did he tell you it’s been that long since we spoke?”

Turner strode to his closet and grabbed pants and a shirt.

Matty blew out a long breath. “You mean you fell out when you were kids and haven’t spoken since? Must have been bad. Did he steal your marbles or something?”

“Or something.”

Twenty years ago, Catch’s name had been Logan and he’d worn a different face. He’d pretended to want Turner, pretended to love him, and while they fucked until Turner’s head spun, Catch persuaded him to cooperate with Gabriel. He’d made Turner believe and trust when he should have known better. Catch soothed his concerns, talked him round, flattered him in a honey trap that Turner had fallen for hook, line and cock. Never again. Catch had made him look a fool, destroyed his reputation and his happiness.

“Catch seems…nice,” Matty said. “What’s his real name?

Dickhead?
“No idea.”

“He told me how he got his nickname, how he and his brothers played ball with their father and that he ought to have been called Drop.” She gave a nervous laugh. “You’re not brothers, are you?”

“He doesn’t have any brothers. As far as I know, he doesn’t have a father.” Or a mother. He’d probably been manufactured in a lab.

Although maybe he’d been lying. Turner’s heart twisted. Maybe the arsehole had a loving family somewhere. Catch had lied about so many things, how did Turner know what was the truth?

“He lied to me?” Matty whispered.

“Are you going to stand there and watch me get dressed? Want to make sure I put my boxers on the correct way around, my socks on the right feet?”

“You can’t put socks… Ah, sorry.”

Turner watched her pad to the door, his ugly heart a heavy weight in his chest.

“He’s not what he seems,” Turner said. “Don’t trust him. Don’t get involved with him.” He had no idea whether that was for Matty’s protection or selfishness on his part. Maybe a mixture of both.

She turned to face him. “Nothing happened. He just chased me. We were playing hide and seek. I had fun. I’d forgotten how to have fun.”

She closed the door behind her.

Turner sagged. How was it fair that Catch brought fun to
her
when he’d stolen it from Turner? Now he had two people in his house he needed to get rid of.

He pulled on pants and a shirt and caught up with Matty before she reached the bottom of the stairs. Turner wrapped his hand around hers and she gulped. Her eyes widened but she tightened her fingers around his.

“Where is he?” Turner asked.

“Here.”

Catch stood at the door of the drawing room.

“Has your lip stopped… Oh wow, it isn’t even swollen anymore,” Matty said.

“I heal fast.” Catch smiled at her.

At her, not me. The bastard.

Turner tried to swallow the lump in his throat and failed. The bloody thing grew bigger. He gripped Matty’s hand hard as Catch stared at him. Could brains implode? Turner’s mind whirled like a tornado, flinging out random thoughts that slammed like bullets into his skull. Even as his temper flared, Matty’s thumb stroked his hand, calming him as if she knew how he felt.

Catch looked much the same as he had twenty years ago. Turner had liked his face as Logan, but once he’d revealed his true features, the night he told Turner who he really worked for, his good looks had blown Turner’s mind. Maybe Catch appeared a bit older and wiser, but he was still the same mouthwateringly handsome guy. He lounged against the door, looking like trouble with scruffy blond hair and sharp cheekbones, his pants riding low on his hips. His eyes were a dazzling green, not Logan’s electric blue, though Turner hadn’t remembered those dark shadows beneath. Turner wanted to hate him but couldn’t, wanted to hurt him and couldn’t do that either. Not beyond the thump on the jaw. Even that hadn’t made Turner feel better.

“I need to talk to you,” Catch said.

Turner didn’t want to talk to him.

The doorbell rang. Catch changed in an instant, slouch gone, every sense alert and a gun appeared in his hand.

“Hey,” Matty said. “Overreacting a touch? It might be the vicar.”