The Gilded Cage Read online

  Hayden hugged Fenn tightly, brushing her lips against his left ear.

  “I love you.”

  Those three little words stole his breath. He pulled back from her so he could see her face. Her eyes were so bright, blue and shining with a myriad of emotions. He rested his forehead against hers, their noses brushing as he told her what he’d wanted to say for days.

  “I love you too.” And then he kissed her.

  Soft at first, letting her feel his soul reach out through his kiss, hoping she would accept him, all of him. The broken, troubled son, reborn through fire and ash because she had braved the flames to find him and bring him home. Hayden returned his kiss, and he gave in to the rising passion. He curled his body around hers, protecting her. Her little sigh against his lips made him smile inside and turned him on. The desperate need to affirm that they were both alive was so strong that he couldn’t get enough of her. He was going to—

  “Ahem,” Wes coughed loudly. “Now is not the time nor the place for that.”

  They broke apart, sharing guilty looks like a pair of teens caught kissing in the back of the car.

  Hayden leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “When we’re done with this, you and I are going to this private island that belongs to a friend of Wes’s.”

  Fenn chuckled.

  “Private island? That”—he stroked her hips—“sounds very nice.” And very private. He needed to get her alone bad and it sounded perfect.

  “Good.” She winked at him. “I was worried I’d have to convince you.”

  He returned her gaze seriously. “I go where you go. You own me, body and soul.”

  When her eyes brimmed with tears he rushed to press a kiss to her lips, worried he’d upset her with such a declaration.

  “You own me, too,” she breathed. The admission was so quiet he wondered if he’d imagined it. Then she looked up at him through those beautiful lashes and his world unraveled and all that was left was her.

  “We belong together,” he answered. “Always.”

  Hayden nodded and kissed him again without another word.

  Chapter 28

  Hayden walked on bare feet across a light gray wooden bridge. It led to a small thatched-roof beach cabin that stood on four posts above the pale blue Caribbean Sea. Dawn was breaking over the horizon behind the cabin and the solar lamps on the bridge formed small golden pools of light. Taking in a deep breath, Hayden felt every bit of her body relax. She was safe here. After everything she and Fenn had survived, they were finally safe. Brant was dead, and the threat to the Lockwood twins was finally gone.

  Although…Greyson Andrews, Antonio’s son, had been missing when the police had collected the bodies. Hayden shivered a little. The man might still be out there. It was unsettling, and yet…she sensed that somehow he wasn’t a threat. The moment he’d learned the truth about his father, he had stepped between her and Brant and tried to kill Brant. He’d been shot—fatally, or so she’d believed. The police hadn’t found any clues as to where he’d gone and she supposed they never would. It was just another unsolved mystery. But it no longer concerned her. Only this place mattered, this beautiful oasis where she was free to be happy.

  The briny sea breeze teased her nose and the lapping of the water—so pure in color that she could see down to the white sandy bottom—created a lulling sound against the bridge posts. She reached the open cabin door and peered inside. There was a large-four poster bed, its headboard pressed back against one wall. Sheer white curtains billowed around the bed’s posts, revealing the bed’s occupant.

  Fenn’s beautiful, muscular, tanned body was completely nude and stretched out. His back was propped up on pillows. One arm was behind his head and a loose sheet was negligently tossed over his hips, barely concealing his exquisite male parts. He was too good to look at.

  She lingered in the doorway, nibbling her bottom lip as she recalled the last few days they’d been on the island. They’d made love for hours and swam in the shallows, playing like dolphins and laughing. So much laughing. She had never been so happy in her life.

  He made her happy, both in bed and out.

  “There you are.” He raised a stack of papers which had been resting on his stomach, cocked one eyebrow in challenge. “I found these in your bag.”

  She recognized the papers as her business proposal for the changes she wanted to make to the Broken Spur. Her pulse quickened, and she licked her lips nervously.

  “I meant to tell you. I was going to, I swear. I had a whole speech and a business pitch to go with my notes and estimates.”

  “Come here.” He pointed to the bed, and she couldn’t read his expression. She thought maybe she saw a flicker of amusement in his hazel eyes, but she wasn’t sure. Was he angry? She hadn’t told him yet of her idea to make the ranch a viable business operation because she was afraid of his reaction.

  “I believe the phrase is ‘present yourself for punishment.’” He gestured to his lap and reached for the leather belt he’d hung over the back of the headboard. Hayden eyed him and his lap. He was going to spank her, or possibly smack her lightly with the belt…brand her in that rough way only he could. And she knew by the dampness between her thighs that she was going to love it. Well, if he was going to do that, she’d make him earn it.

  “Gotta catch me.” She laughed and bolted back through the door and ran down the bridge. She made it twenty feet before his strong arms curled around her waist and hoisted her up. She squealed in mock terror as he carried her back to their little hut over the water. He didn’t seem to care that he was entirely naked. They were the only two people on the island. The main house was a quarter of a mile inland and they only went there to eat and shower. But that house was empty too, except for the housekeeper who came in the mornings to clean and replenish the fridge with food.

  Fenn dropped her face down on the bed, and when she struggled he slapped her ass hard. The bite of pain was heavenly, and she gasped into the white cotton sheets. White silk strips still hung from the bed’s posts and Fenn pinned her down with his legs on either side of her hips as he tied her wrists to each post.

  “We’re going to have a little chat,” he murmured in her ear as he caged her body with his, fully trapping her beneath him. Then he used his knees to wedge her legs apart from behind. He sat back on his heels and clenched the globes of her ass in his hands. When she moaned in encouragement, he reached for the tiny plastic bear-shaped container of honey from the little table by the bed.

  “How about we discuss sharing things that matter, honey.” He emphasized her pet name as he drizzled honey in a line down her spine. The liquid felt cool and she sighed at the sensation. Then he leaned over her, kissing his way down her back, licking at the trail of honey. It was something he’d enjoyed the last few days they’d been here: finding new ways to sensually tease and torture her with that honey. The man had a wicked imagination.

  “Fenn…” She wriggled in encouragement, wanting, needing him to possess her. This foreplay was going to drive her mad.

  He reached for the belt and smack! The light sting, just enough to give her that tiny, barest hint of pain, made her whimper with pleasure. She’d never be able to look at a belt the same way again, not when Fenn held it. He never really hurt her, just gave her that delightful sting when she was already aching, wet and desperate.

  “I’m not done playing,” he warned in that low seductive voice that undid any rebelliousness inside her. That voice had the power to melt her inside out and put only one thing on her mind—belonging to him, pleasing him, and in return, finding such exquisite pleasure and love that she’d never feel trapped or alone again.

  With gentle but firm hands, he rolled her over onto her back, which twisted her arms above her head, since her wrists were tied to the opposite posts. The position wasn’t uncomfortable, since he’d given her enough elasticity in her bonds for this particular maneuver. The man knew his ropings…She giggled. All those years of calf-roping really did come i
n handy.

  “Go ahead and laugh now,” he warned. “You won’t have the breath to in a few minutes.” He gripped her ass and jerked her down the bed a little, creating more tension in her bound wrists and less ability to move. Seemingly satisfied, he gripped her knees and forced them open. She fought him, only a little, just to bite her lip to keep from giggling at his hungry gaze and the calloused rough feel of his hands on her. It was impossible not to push him a little, make him get a tad rough with her; she loved it.

  He took the honey and drizzled a few drops over her nipples and she exhaled at the feel of the liquid. Fenn climbed up the length of her, settling his body between her thighs before he slowly, leisurely licked first one nipple, then the next, until each peak was tight and sensitive. Hayden tried to arch up, present her breasts for his mouth, but he only grinned in devilish satisfaction.

  Before she could demand he do more, he slid back down her body, taking the honey with him, then he did something she hadn’t expected. He drizzled the golden honey right on her clit and using one index finger coated the lips of her sex with it.

  “My two favorite kinds of honey.” His gruff murmur made her inner walls clench in greedy anticipation of his tongue.

  “Please…” she begged.

  He glanced up at her. “Please what?” That edge of disapproval, that dominant side of him, waited for her to address him properly.

  “Please, sir, please!” She rolled her hips, undulating, trying to convince him to do what she so desperately wanted.

  “Good girl.” His praised warmed her.

  He shifted back a few inches on the massive bed and then parted her folds. He kissed her inner thigh, his warm breath fanning her sensitive skin, and she panted. Then he bent his head, so slowly she wanted to curse at him for his teasing, and finally licked. Just the small bundle of nerves, a swirl, then a stroke, then he sucked her clit between his lips.

  “Ahh!” She gasped in excitement and near panic. Her body was too sensitive there, the pressure too much, the stimulation beyond what she could—He released her clit and then slid his tongue up and down her cleft, in darting, little playful licks before thrusting his tongue into her channel. She clenched around him, trying to ease the stark need, panting, moaning, begging in a rush of words she barely understood.

  With a low chuckle, he moved back up her body, caging her in as he kissed her full on the mouth. She tasted the honey and herself, all mixed with his own taste. The kiss was sinful, decadent, full of possession. He owned her in that moment, claiming everything she was, and she let him. When their mouths finally parted, he sat back on his heels and eyed her body, then flipped her back onto her stomach.

  “I sure hope you’re ready, honey, because I’m not waiting,” he warned with a wolfish growl seconds before he rammed deep into her swollen tissues.

  Hayden buried her face into the bed, moaning. This was pure, animal mating, fueled by raw lust and the need to connect on a primal level. He ground his hips against her ass, his hold on her hips close to bruising, and she loved it. Even though he dominated her body, they were equals. As her body raced toward her climax he pounded even harder, breathless as they both exploded at the same time. For an instant her vision blanked out as she struggled to accept the drugging overload of pleasure. Her legs shook violently as another orgasm raced to the tips of her toes and fingers, this one deeper, softer, but just as mind-blowing. She half-sobbed with the sheer relief of having come so hard, so brutally and so quickly.

  Fenn’s hands still gripped her hips, his touch firm but gentle as he rubbed the spots he’d bruised with his roughness. It sent a whisper of a thrill through her, to have him, this sex god, make love to her like this, knowing he could be so gentle and tender when she needed him to be.

  Limp and sated, she let him withdraw from her body before he rolled over and untied her.

  “Do you know the best way to get you to stop running?” he asked, his breath still ragged, and his lips quirked in a smile.

  She didn’t answer, couldn’t even talk. She was too dazed and sated to move or speak.

  “Truss you up and fuck you until you can’t move.” He stretched out on the bed next to her and pulled her against him.

  “Is that so?” She finally found the breath to respond.

  “Yep. And it’s a fun thing to do. So much so that I can’t help but think I’d like to do it forever.” The ginger color of his eyes was soft and warm, but no less intense.

  “Forever?” Her heart beat against her ribs and she tried to calm down. She wanted forever with him, but it hadn’t seemed possible before.

  “Mmmm,” He kissed her lips lightly, playfully. “I want you to come to the ranch with me. Be my partner, in business, in bed, in life.” He kissed her between each of these phrases and she wriggled with delight.

  He shifted so he could slide a hand under their pillows, and pulled out a square black velvet box. “This is for you. Emery mentioned collars and cuffs…but I figure this would be better.” He handed her the box and she took it, hands shaking as she opened it.

  A ring was nestled in the center of the box. A lovely princess-cut diamond, elegant and simple. But circled around the diamond was a necklace with a fine silver chain. Hanging from the chain was a beautiful, ornately designed silver key.

  “Well?” he prompted.

  For the first time, besides when he’d been meeting his brother and his family, he seemed nervous. She removed the ring and gave it to him, then offered him her left hand. He slowly slid the ring onto her finger. It fit just right. Then she removed the necklace, unfastened the clasp and then handed that to him as well. She sat up and, lifting up her hair, offered her back to him. He draped the necklace around her throat and sealed the clasp. The silver key rested against her collarbone. A faint presence against her skin. It wasn’t a symbol for the key to her heart. No, it was a symbol that she was free from the gilded cage she’d lived in for far too long. He had set her free, but the key was a reminder that she owned her freedom. That was just one of the many reasons she loved him. He understood her.

  Hayden snuggled into his embrace, not saying anything.

  He laughed. “For a sassy-mouthed woman, you sure are quiet.” He brushed a finger over her lips.

  “Don’t worry,” she giggled. “You’ve shocked me, that’s all. I’ll recover in a few minutes and show you just how happy I am.”

  They lay there, listening to the sounds of the surf and the whisper of palm fronds in the wind from the shore.

  “Do you like my idea for the ranch?” she finally asked.

  “Honey.” He stared at her, complete honesty in his eyes. “It is brilliant. You are brilliant.”

  Relief swept through her. He believed in her, in that part of herself she’d wanted so desperately to believe in, too, but had been so afraid she’d fail. But she wouldn’t. This dream to rebuild the ranch, to make it a haven for high-powered executives who would come to relax, would make a fortune. It would take stress from Jim Taylor and give Callie the ability to live her own dreams.

  “I’ll talk to Jim first thing when we get back.” Fenn promised. “But first I want to make love to my future wife.”

  She laughed as he rolled her underneath him and nipped at her breasts.

  “I think we have a lot of discipline ahead of us. You’re wriggling like a fish.” He bit one of the erect peaks of her breasts and she arched into him with pleasure.

  “More!” she demanded, fisting her hands in his golden hair, tugging at him in encouragement.

  He gave her just that. More. And Everything beyond.

  Epilogue

  Wes Thorne stepped out of the Jeep Wrangler, his expensive Italian shoes immediately collecting dust from the Broken Spur Ranch. He shut the car door and took a minute to straighten his red silk tie and smooth the front of his jacket. Then he tugged the cuffs of his jacket sleeves down to precisely the right spot on his wrists. He liked things to be perfect, when he could manage it. And here he was, in one of the
least perfect places, seeking the answer to something he needed. If anyone had told him he would have come to a dusty old ranch and found the answer to his restless nights he would have scoffed. But it was the truth. What he had to have, had to possess, was inside this house.

  He strode up the wooden steps and opened the screen door, frowning as it squeaked. Its hinges needed to be greased. He rapped his knuckles on the door and waited. The small matte cream envelope in his pocket seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. It was one of the reasons he was here, to deliver it to its intended recipient. Yet the prospect made him uncomfortable because he knew the invitation would break a young woman’s heart. He wanted to teach her to forget that other man, though, and he would. Even if he had to steal her away and hand her everything she desired. All she had to do was give in to him and do everything he asked of her.

  The door opened, and there she stood, in jeans and a t-shirt, her rusty brown cowboy boots scratched and worn. Her eyes were wide and her pale pink lips parted in surprise. The expression suited her. He couldn’t help but imagine what else he could do to her to earn that expression. Soon he hoped he would find out.

  “Mr. Thorne?” Callie Taylor asked, her voice soft and husky. “Did you forget something?”

  For a second, he didn’t understand her question, but then he realized she assumed he’d left something in his room from when he’d stayed here a month ago.

  “Actually no. I’ve come to deliver this to you.” He slid the envelope out and presented it to her.

  “For me? You came all this way? Why didn’t you just mail it?” She examined it and motioned for him to come inside. As he moved past her, he couldn’t resist brushing the length of his body against hers. Her cheeks pinked and he fought down a wave of lust, but it was so hard. She was so innocent, so perfect for his needs, that his desire for her clouded his thoughts and drugged his senses.

  “Wes.” A deep, gravelly voice greeted him from the kitchen doorway. Callie’s father, Jim, smiled warmly. “Glad to see you back here. Good news, I hope?”