Twelve

THOMAS

I had worked quickly to increase security at the penthouse, ordering the installation of more cameras to cover the entire building and the parking garage as well as upgrades to the existing monitoring equipment.

John and Andrew Evans were due to arrive in several days. Evans had been a soldier in the Royal Army before joining Will’s security team. His loyalty to my family was irreproachable. With their aid, I could get out in the field to track the prime minister’s assassin and deal with Reed’s sudden disappearance as well.

Pushing my hand through my hair, I cursed.

Because now, every move I made affected Katie.

If her father had committed espionage against the British government, she would hate me for turning him over to MI5. But I had no choice. I had to follow through for my brother’s sake, no matter the personal cost to me.

Completing this mission was the least of what I owed him.

Katie was unaware of Reed’s missing status. She’d stormed out of the dining room, and I’d allowed her to go without telling her, deciding to first give her space to deal with her anger.

Christ, how I ached to touch her. Being so close, confined in the same living quarters, practicing restraint. It was an agony worse than any military tactic.

What was more, emotional attachment transcended my physical desire.

Kissing her, holding her in my arms at the executive mansion, feeling her respond to me as she had. There had been more than sexual need in those moments.

Clarity came to me while I watched the sun rise from my position on the brick-paved terrace. Leaning against the iron railing with my coffee in hand, lights of the city fading into the rose-colored dawn, I conceded. I’d been lying to myself.

Letting Katie go had never been in the cards.

I cared for her deeply enough that I would find the strength to wait, giving her time to explore the freedom she deserved before taking it away. There was no turning back. There was only time.

Katie needed to know. I had to make her understand.

Tautness struck my chest. Self-reproach. I would still ruin her.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. Forty-five minutes had passed. My heartbeat raced. I was desperate to see her again, to find another reason to touch her.

She’d been quite upset, I thought. And she’s alone.

Determined to put her at ease, I went to her. I found her sitting on the edge of her bed, tying the laces on her trainers, as if she were going out. She met my stare and nailed me with the longing in her eyes that had become my weakness.

“You’re not going anywhere, little bird.”

Katie tested me with her defiant wit and beautiful smile. “Whatever would give you that idea?”

“You never wear trainers indoors. You wear slippers or nothing at all.”

“You’re very observant, Mr. Holmes, but I’m afraid now”—she slapped her shoes on the hardwood floor and stood up—“the game is afoot.”

“This is not a goddamn game. You don’t know what dangers await you.”

“This is New York. It’s dangerous to cross the street.”

There was her headstrong defiance again. I pinned her with my eyes to convey the potential dire repercussions of leaving even if for a few minutes.

She dismissed my warning with a flippant shake of her head. “I promise not to cross the street, okay?” Extending her hand, she added, “Just a trip around the block. Come along with me.”

“We’re not going for a stroll, holding hands, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“You don’t have to be an asshole. It doesn’t help at all, you know. I can see that you want to touch me. You can. I want you to.”

I stalked farther into her room, moving closer with each word. “I have to wonder how many times you’ve said those words, Katie. You know nothing about men. How we think. What we want. What bastards we can be when a woman teases us.”

Her fitted white T-shirt clung to her, revealing the curves of her breasts, and a diamond pendant in the shape of a delicate star lay against her chest at the bottom of the V. I had to touch her skin. I dragged my fingertips down her arm.

“I’ll be sure to avoid them then. On my walk,” she half-whispered.

Irritation surged through me. I latched on to her wrist and growled, “I said, you aren’t going anywhere.”

I wanted to scare the shit out of her, so she’d stay put. Force her compliance.

A gasp escaped her mouth, her pretty lips forming a circle. She recovered quickly, disobedience flashing in her eyes. “Try and stop me,” she challenged.

I smirked. Yanking her wrist up, bending her elbow, I crashed her body into mine, my arousal hard as stone against her belly. “It would take nothing for me to overpower you, to do whatever I wanted with your body.”

“What?” she breathed.

“Fight me,” I demanded, tugging harder on her wrist. “Defend yourself. You want to travel? Then, you must understand how dangerous it is out there. What men can do to you. Men like me.”

Little did she know, there was truth in those words. That men like me meant me as well, the bastard abusing his authority. Charged to protect her while lusting after her. Needing her. Falling asleep at night, thinking of her with only the poor company of my own hand.

Her lips parted again, and I knew I was losing the battle. She was the one owning me. She touched me, reaching down to wrap her little fingers round my cock and squeeze.

Fuuuck.

I was quite prepared to die for the woman I’d waited for my whole life, but I never imagined I’d take my last breath in this way. She was killing me with those fingers, her clumsy palm, rubbing me into madness. And her perfect face, those tempting lips, stormy eyes dancing over my features, as though she could read my thoughts.

No more. I threw her on the bed, facedown on the mattress beneath my weight, splaying her arms over her head and cuffing her wrists with one hand.

“Fight me. You can leave if you can show me that you can defend yourself.”

I rocked into her arse, taking pleasure from her softness. Establishing dominance. Proving my point.

She raised her hips to meet my erection.

“Fight me,” I grunted, plowing against her, showing her how much stronger I was. How much stronger any man would be. How defenseless she was in that position.

It felt too good. I wanted our clothing gone. My hard cock against the smooth skin of her arse, my fingers inside her, drawing wetness out of her. I wanted to thrust into her. How fucking amazing it would be to fall into ecstasy with her, climaxing together again and again and again.

“Say no. Tell me to stop, Katie,” I begged.

I wouldn’t be able to stop on my own. Not while she was consenting. I needed her to tell me no. But she wouldn’t say it. She wanted me as much as I wanted her.

Desperate to taste her skin, I licked her neck.

“Yes,” she cried. “I don’t want you to stop.”

She continued resisting my warnings. I flipped her onto her back and pinned her arms above her head again, driving against her with more force, getting off while punishing her for her insubordination. Looking into her eyes while pressing myself against her nearly pushed me to the brink of insanity.

I wanted to lock the door. Tie her to the bed. Open her legs with my knees and drive myself between her thighs. I wanted to take her in every conceivable way. To devour her and ruin her.

My control was slipping. I had to bring us both back to the lesson.

“I mean to teach you,” I said, hoping the defiance I’d seen earlier would emerge. I took the skin on her neck into my mouth, wanting to suck, to kiss her there. I bit her, just enough to leave a mark. I wanted to leave my mark on her. “Fight me, goddamn it.”

Still, she didn’t oppose me, didn’t answer violence for violence. It occurred to me then that the only censure I could impose on her would be to make her crave me, to yearn and grieve for my touch as much as I yearned for her.

Holding her wrists a fraction more tightly, I forced my body still. I kissed the mark on her neck with tenderness, dragged my lips to her ear, and rumbled, “When you allow a man to have you, Katie, you’re giving him the greatest gift he’ll ever receive.”

I peeled myself from her warmth with agonizing torment, leaving her panting and flushed. Walking away hurt me more than it hurt her. But it was necessary.

“Take off your trainers, Katie. You’re not going out, not today.”