The Gilded Cage Read online

  “Get into bed and I’ll join you,” he urged.

  Hayden smiled impishly and headed for the bed, dropping her towel as she went. Casting a seductive look over her shoulder at him, she waggled her hips. He swallowed hard, his towel tenting instantly around his erection. He reached to the side and just a second before he flicked the lights off, she saw the burning cores of his eyes, like two fires smoldering with lust. Her channel slickened at the thought of what he’d do to her once he reached her. And he would do something to her; she knew it in the way his muscles tensed and his breathing roughened.

  “One of these days, I’m going to get even with you,” he chuckled as he pulled back the blankets and climbed into bed with her. “You make me lose my damn mind.”

  She laughed. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

  In answer, he tugged her flat on her back beneath him and caged her body with his. The insistent press of his arousal was clear proof of how good a thing it was.

  “I thought you said we should rest.” She laughed as he nuzzled her breasts.

  The light rasp of his stubble scraped deliciously over her sensitive skin. She gasped as he drew one nipple into his mouth and bit the sensitive peak. The hint of pain awakened nerve endings inside her and a wet heat pooled between her thighs. His tongue curled around the bud, laving it, stroking it, before he bit down again with just the right amount of pressure to make her body jolt. Tingles of pleasure and pain shot straight to her clit and her vaginal walls clenched and throbbed, ready to clamp down on his cock even though he wasn’t inside her.

  She was exhausted and hadn’t thought her body was capable of another orgasm, but when he aligned his hips with hers and impaled her without warning, she exploded in another mind-blowing wave of pleasure. He knew just when to possess her, when she was wet enough and hungry enough that her body needed that sharp invasion to set her on fire.

  Her hips shot up and she moaned, thrashing her head back and forth on the pillow, frantic to get closer to him, to satisfy the throbbing desire inside her. It wasn’t just physical; with Fenn it was always more—a heady sense of domination and surrender, of two animals mating wildly in a rush of heavy breaths, silken sighs, and throaty growls. He was all man, all raw power and sex, and yet he made her feel worshipped and adored, even as he possessed her fully and completely, giving her no room to escape.

  The orgasm melted her body from the inside out, and she gave in to Fenn’s sensual demands as he took his time, playing with her, exploring her body and her responses. Teasing nips, playful light kisses on sensitive spots that made her tremble or shiver. Like a symphony conductor he created a masterpiece from her sounds of pleasure. Changing his thrusting rhythm from quick to slow, then back again, he tortured her, drawing out sensual delights by ruling over her body and controlling her ability to climax. She couldn’t deny that turned her on all the more.

  “Please…I need to come,” she begged.

  “You like that, don’t you, honey. Me fucking you after you’ve come, letting me play with you.” He grinned down at her, the expression rakish and piratical. Her womb spasmed and she nodded desperately, trying to move her hips against his.

  She did like it. God, she loved it because he did it gently, seductively, reveling in her limp, sated body. Any other man might not know how to do it just like this…to make her feel safe and yet fucked to within an inch of her life. The mere thought of that had her body rising to that blissful edge of need all over again.

  Hayden’s lips parted and he swooped in, taking advantage, pressing a kiss to her mouth. His breathing turned ragged as he sped up his hips. She held him to her, hands curled around his shoulders as he came apart in her arms. They clung to each other and she cradled his head to her chest and stroked his hair.

  “Am I too heavy?” he asked, trying to lift off her. She dug her heels into the backs of his thighs, locking him to her.

  “Stay. It feels good.”

  He settled back down on her, but after a few minutes he rolled, holding her on top of him as he pulled the blankets back up. Their bodies were still joined and the shared feeling of being connected made her feel warm and fuzzy. She tucked her head beneath his chin and sighed in true contentment.

  I wish it could always be like this. A lingering pain in her chest came from knowing it would someday end. But not today. He’s still mine for now.

  Chapter 23

  You want to talk?”

  Fenn tightened his hold on Hayden, loving the way she let him drape her over his body like his own personal blanket. His hands rested on her back, his fingertips tracing the faint line of her spine.

  “Please, talk to me,” she urged.

  Her chin rested on his chest and she gazed at him, her eyes imploring him to open up. He didn’t want to, but he had to get it out.

  “You’re sure you want to hear this? I don’t know if I can sugarcoat any of it.”

  “I can handle it.”

  He drew in a deep breath. “I remember nearly everything that happened now. How Emery and I were held for three months. That man Antonio was a bastard. The other two men he hired were there for the money. They didn’t know we were supposed to be killed rather than ransomed. Antonio was abusive and he liked to play cruel games.”

  He closed his eyes, but doing was so was a mistake. The memories rushed to meet him, playing back like an old horror movie.

  Large stony hands gripped him by the throat, lifting him into the air. He clawed at the fingers crushing his windpipe, but no sound came out, not even a choked breath.

  “You think you can hurt me? You little shit!”

  Crack! The blow to his temple knocked his brain around inside his head and he nearly threw up. He focused on the walls, the cracked, peeling wallpaper around him, the way the moonlight glinted off the faint gilt on the old fleur-de-lis pattern. It was the only thing that kept him from blacking out completely.

  Antonio dropped him and he fell three feet to the ground. He rolled onto his stomach, retching violently for several moments, coughing and whimpering.

  “Hey! Lay off him! He’s just a kid, damn it!” One of the other two men lunged forward, placing his body between Antonio and Fenn.

  “He is trouble,” Antonio’s tone was cold enough to frost the air around them. “But soon we won’t have to worry about him. Our plan is coming to a close. Pick him up, Lewis, and take him back to his brother. Lock them up. I have to go into town for a few things.”

  Lewis stood his ground, remaining protectively in front of Fenn. “Fine. Does this mean we’ll be getting the money and sending them home soon?”

  Fenn lay still, trying to catch his breath, his palms flat on the scuffed wooden floor beneath him. Too afraid to hope, too afraid to believe that he and Emery might be going home. In the distance, an old clock chimed, the only thing in the house that worked because Antonio had fixed it. Fenn hated that sound. It was like the one at home, and it reminded him that he and his brother might never go home. Each time the bell tolled it was an ever present reminder that they were trapped here…losing more and more of their lives, and their innocence, to evil.

  Antonio didn’t answer immediately. “Yes. We’ll be getting paid soon.” The door slammed as he stalked out of the room.

  When Lewis knelt beside him Fenn flinched, curling his body into a ball, waiting for more pain. There was always so much pain.

  A gentle hand touched his hair. “Hey kid, it’s okay. Come on. He’s gone.” The hand touching him stayed on his head, the caress not as threatening as he’d expected. Fenn took a chance and opened his eyes. The man stared at him, guilt and worry carving premature age lines on his face.

  “I’ll help you up.” He gripped Fenn under his arms and hoisted him to his feet. “You okay to walk?”

  Fenn touched his head where Antonio had hit him and winced. “Yeah, my head hurts,” he whispered, afraid to admit more than that. The pain in his head made him nauseous. “I don’t feel so good.” He clutched a hand to his stomac
h, bending over as he dry-heaved.

  “Fuck,” Lewis cursed. “He hit you hard enough to give you a concussion.” Lewis bent and scooped him up, then carried him through the mansion’s bottom floor. He paused when he reached the small closet in the middle of the house.

  “Tell you what, why don’t I let you and your brother out for a little while.” Lewis set him down gently. He fished a set of old brass keys out of his pocket and unlocked the old closet door.

  “Emery?” Fenn whispered, worried by the silence in the dark closet. “Emery?”

  His twin fell limply onto the floor, unconscious no doubt from the pain he’d experienced through Fenn. It happened every time Antonio had hurt him.

  He knelt by his brother and shook him. Emery blinked and came to, clutching his head and moaning.

  “What the hell?” Lewis muttered, his confused stare darting back and forth between the two boys. “Is he…hurting because you are?”

  Fenn nodded, still focused on his brother.

  “That’s messed up,” Lewis muttered. “It’s like that bastard is beating up two kids, not just one. I’m so sick of this shit. I should never have gotten involved with this.” He paced away from them.

  “What the fuck, Lewis? Shove them back in the closet.” The third kidnapper, a man named Abrams, strode into view.

  “Abrams, come on. They need fresh air. Antonio was smacking them around.”

  “I don’t care, we got our orders. Antonio just called.” He held up a handgun. “We have to take care of them and dispose of the bodies, then burn this place to the ground.”

  Fenn shuddered and held Hayden tighter.

  “They were going to kill us. After three months of torture, we were going to be killed.” His voice broke. “You can’t imagine what that’s like. Living only because someone thought you needed to be kept alive a few months to fake a botched kidnapping. The whole time you hold out hope that they’ll let you go home. But they don’t.”

  Hayden buried her face against his throat and her tears coated his skin. She was crying for him. That made this telling so much worse.

  “God, Fenn,” she whispered, her breath ragged with emotion. “I’m so sorry that you had to go through that. You were an innocent child.”

  He swallowed hard and nodded. “I know that, but it doesn’t change the past. Emery and I were abused over and over. And I don’t even know why someone wanted us dead.” Despair choked him and he couldn’t speak. Emery had had twenty-five years to deal with what had happened to them, but Fenn hadn’t. Everything was new to him, as though he’d suffered it all yesterday. In some ways, that was true. The memories were agonizingly fresh.

  “What happened, Fenn? The last night you and Emery were together?” Hayden’s hesitant tone filled him with regret. He didn’t want her to feel like she couldn’t talk about this with him.

  “Abrams struggled with Lewis. Lewis didn’t want to kill us.” He dared not shut his eyes.

  I will not let these memories drown me.

  “Abrams was choking me. Emery ran for the door like I’d told him to. I remember seeing him vanish into the darkness outside.” Free. His brother had gotten away. It was the only solace he’d had in the darkest moment of his life.

  “I was blacking out, and I remember the gunshot. Lewis put a bullet in Abrams and I fell down the stairs when he dropped me. I cracked the back of my head open a little.” He took one of her hands and guided it to a scar hidden beneath his hair. Her fingertips explored the faint raised line with heartbreaking tenderness. No one had ever touched the scar and Hayden’s simple caress opened him up, exposing years of raw pain he’d buried. He trusted her more than he’d ever trusted anyone. It was hard not to love someone who held your heart in their hands and didn’t break it.

  I’m falling in love with her. How had he not seen it before? Then again, he’d been half in love with her the moment she’d streaked past in her red little dress and saved him from the wrath of the angry bull. A man had to love a woman who saved his ass. But it was so much more than that—the depth of what he felt, what thoughts whispered in his heart as he held her close, just breathing in her scent and feeling her skin pressed to his. It was infinitely more than attraction. It was necessity. As someone who’d grown up on a ranch, you learned what was necessary for you to survive and you did anything to keep it. He could only pray she wouldn’t want to leave him because he didn’t want to let her go.

  “What happened after you blacked out?” she prompted.

  “Lewis packed me up and carried me away. We just…stuck together. He was probably too afraid to take me home, and I didn’t remember enough to fight and try to escape.” Admitting this filled him with a deep sense of betrayal, but on both sides. He should have gone home like Emery but he hadn’t, because by then he’d felt like he’d be turning his back on Lewis, this man who’d saved his life and cared for him as best he could.

  Hayden lifted her head and rested her chin on his chest. “Don’t regret anything. What happened, happened. You can’t change what was, only what you do going forward.”

  Her eyes were so beautiful, and he surrendered to the emotions on her face. She was a one-of-a-kind woman and right now she was with him. He trailed a fingertip over her lips and gave her a soft smile. Tears dripped down her cheeks and onto his chest.

  “No more tears, honey. Promise me no more tears.” It was killing him, raking his soul out of his chest, to see her cry for him. The thought of her in any pain, physical or emotional, because of him was sheer torture.

  She swiped a careless hand across her face and gave him a watery smile.

  “Just don’t hurt me,” she whispered.

  Her gaze stilled his quickly beating heart. What did she mean? Don’t make her sad? Don’t make her fall in love and then leave her? He didn’t want to leave her but he might not have a choice. He could stay tonight. Hans would come back for him in the morning and he’d return home.

  Home. A place of happy memories and bright dreams, but it wasn’t really his home any longer, hadn’t been for years. Yet he felt tethered there, like a kite in a windstorm, clinging to the mansion by a thin string.

  “Trust me. I won’t ever hurt you,” he swore. “But I can’t promise that you won’t get hurt because someone is trying to kill me and my brother. Things aren’t safe for you, not if you’re around me.” He wanted to tell her to leave the island, to go somewhere far away, but he was too damned selfish, wanting to keep her close to him.

  “Everything is going to be okay. You’re home.” Hayden buried her face into his chest, and he couldn’t deny the sense of inner peace it gave him. Her body fit so perfectly to his and he could have stayed there the rest of the night, content to hold her and dream of what might be. But dreams were dangerous. When he’d been locked away with Emery in that closet for three months, he had dared to dream, and his hopes had been trampled to death. He’d survived by losing everything he’d loved, but the idea of losing Hayden terrified him.

  She’s not even really mine. He could be a passing fancy, a mere itch she wanted to scratch and she could easily toss him aside by the end of this. The thought turned him cold inside. She wasn’t that kind of woman; at least he didn’t think she was. A few days and she had turned his world upside down. He still didn’t know much about her, but he wanted to. He could only hope she felt the same. She’d asked him not to hurt her, but did that mean she loved him?

  He wished he understood women more. He would have asked Callie, but he suspected that might be a bad idea since the little sprite thought she was in love with him. No, he’d just have to wait it out and see if he could figure out how Hayden really felt about him.

  How could a man make a woman fall in love with him when she was so different? Her life was nothing like his; they had nothing in common except nearly getting killed together and mind-blowing sex. What could he possibly hope to give her that she couldn’t already get herself or from another man, one who understood her world better than he did? That thoug
ht of her leaving him for someone else made his stomach churn. He couldn’t offer her anything but himself, and he feared that might not be enough to keep her. If it wasn’t, he wasn’t sure he could handle his own heart breaking.

  * * *

  Greyson stalked along the perimeter of the grounds of the Lockwood estate until he spotted the bodyguard, Hans Brummer, heading toward the black SUV. Slinking along with the grace and silence of a jungle cat, he reached the back of the SUV just as Hans opened the driver’s side door. Greyson slid under the body of the car and quickly attached the hooks of his body harness to the vehicle’s undercarriage. He held his breath as the car started and drove out of the circular driveway. When he didn’t hit any rocks, he knew he was in the clear. The drive wasn’t long, only ten minutes if he had to guess.

  Good. Wherever he’s going is close enough for me to do what I need to do.

  The bodyguard parked the car and didn’t get out right away. Greyson unhooked himself and dropped onto the ground. He tucked the harness hooks into cloth strips on his vest to silence any sound they might make if left loose.

  The car door opened and a pair of black boots appeared as Brummer got out. He moved slowly around to the back of the SUV, then paused as though waiting. Greyson rolled out from under the car and sprang silently up onto the balls of his feet, aiming the tranquilizer gun he carried and firing. The red-tipped dart sank into Brummer’s neck and he stumbled and cursed, then went down hard onto the grass beside the road.

  Greyson wouldn’t kill a man like Brummer unless he had to. He was hired help, not a target. A good assassin minimized collateral damage when possible. His instructions tonight were simple. Get Fenn and bring him to a specific location. Then, when the time was right, retrieve Emery as well. The client had made it clear that everything had to be done carefully and in a particular order. Normally Greyson would have needed more details, but he admitted he didn’t care. His client had told him these two men had killed his father. That was all that mattered.