to? I liked it better when we didn’t talk.”
He did, too, but this was morning, and they had to face reality.
“Jennifer, last night was a mistake.”
Her eyes slid away from his. “You bastard.”
He didn’t argue. He was a bastard. He’d taken her last night when
he’d known it was wrong. “It was a mistake, and I take full
responsibility. It wasn’t your fault. I took advantage of you.”
Now she looked at him, tears shining in her eyes. “Because I
wasn’t here at all, was I? Because I didn’t make a choice? What the
hell am I to you, Stef?”
“You’re a friend,” he said gently.
“No, I am not. People trust their friends. You said once that I
knew nothing of trust, but you’re the one who doesn’t trust me. You
think I’m a child, but I’m not. I know what I want, Stef. I want you.”
She leaned toward him, holding her hand out. “Last night wasn’t a
mistake. This morning is, can’t you see that?”
“Jennifer, I remember being twenty-three. It’s not the easiest time
in your life. There are lots of things that you think you want, but you simply don’t have the experience to know.”
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Sophie Oak
Now she stood. “Fuck you, Stef. Get out of my house. I’m not
some child, but you’re never going to see it. You’re never going to
see me as anything but some airhead kid.”
“I’d prefer to talk about this reasonably.”
“Screw reason. I’m done reasoning with you. I’ve begged and
pleaded and made a fool of myself. Well, I’m done with all of that,
Stef. And I’m done with you, so feel free to leave.”
“Last night you loved me, and this morning you’re through.”
Everything she said just made his point.
She shrugged. “Well, I guess you were right about me, then. Out!”
He left, the door slamming behind him and the worst feeling in the
pit of his stomach telling him that he’d fucked everything up. He’d
intended to be gentle, to talk it out. As he walked away, he thought he heard her cry. He’d knocked on the door, but it was locked this time.
He’d stood there, hand on the door, and wished he could go back in
and hold her.
He left a few moments later, but that afternoon he’d been back
like a moth to the flame. He’d come with flowers he’d bought at the
Trading Post and plans to, at least, talk this out. He couldn’t stand the thought of her feeling down. Maybe, he’d thought, maybe, they could
try.
Her apartment had been empty of anything that was personal.
Only the furniture remained. She’d packed up and left in a matter of
hours.
He’d walked out, tossing the flowers in the trash. It was better this
way, he’d told himself. It was better that she left now, rather than
later.
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Chapter Four
Stef was jarred awake as the chair he sat in was forcefully kicked.
He sat up straight, forcing himself to come out of the dream he’d been having. It was a familiar dream, one he had every night. He’d made
love to Jennifer again. He’d chased her down and taken her. He’d
made her his. She’d been soft and utterly submissive by the time he’d
gotten her underneath him. It had been perfect in his dream because
this time he’d said the words he wanted to say. This time he’d made it right, and she hadn’t left him.
When his vision cleared he saw the reason he couldn’t say the
words. His father was asleep in the chair across from him, his eyes
closed and a blanket around his body. He was older, more fragile than
Stef had ever seen him. His father was a rock. His father was a
workaholic who never seemed to have an emotion, much less show
one.
Except that one day. The day his mother had left them alone. He
remembered very little besides shouting and his mother’s
pronouncement that no amount of money made up for being tied to a
husband and a kid. But he remembered his father’s knees hitting the
floor. He remembered the way his father had clung to him as he cried.
The next day, Sebastian Talbot had been back to smooth, CEO
perfection as if nothing had happened. He’d divorced his young bride
and never mentioned her name again. It had been years before Stef
had heard anything about her, and then it had been a single e-mail
explaining she’d remarried and requested contact. He’d been twenty.
He’d deleted it and blocked her from his e-mail.
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Sophie Oak
Stef let his eyes slide to Jen’s sleeping form. She was even
younger than his mother had been when she married his father.
“You want to explain to me why your father thinks you’re going
to marry my wife?” Nate’s low growl brought Stef out of his revelry.
He’d whispered the question, but it jarred Sebastian.
“What?” His father sat straight up and glanced around. There
seemed to be a moment’s panic as though he didn’t remember where
he was, but then a smile lit his face. He stretched and moved aside the blanket the flight attendant had settled on him while he was sleeping.
“Sorry. I must have fallen asleep. I tire easily these days. I’m afraid I was dreaming. How far are we from Bliss?”
Nate backed off. “Another twenty minutes, Mr. Talbot.”
Sebastian shook his head. “No, no, Nathan. That won’t do. Please
call me Sebastian. Half the time Stefan does. I can’t wait to see Bliss again.”
The panic was back. His father was coming home. “Dad, this is
insane. You don’t vacation. The whole time I was growing up, you
rarely left the office.”
He turned and looked out the window. He took in the gorgeous
mountain views. “That’s not true, son. I spent two whole years in
Bliss running the company from the estate. It worked well then. Given
today’s technology it would be even easier now. Don’t worry. I won’t
be a pest. I’ll stay in the guesthouse.”
“No!” Both he and Nate shouted the denial.
“The guesthouse is drafty,” Nate managed to sputter. “It’s really
cold right now. You’ve been in Texas for a long time. Colorado
winters are hard.”
Stef was glad Nate was such a quick thinker. He nodded. “Yes,
the guesthouse needs some renovations.”
The guesthouse was perfectly comfy. It was also filled with sex
toys. Often it was where he kept his subs when they came for training.
Of course, for the last six months the place had been empty except
when Max and Rye had brought their wife there to play. Stef hadn’t
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brought in a sub since that night with Jennifer. It had seemed wrong
somehow.
Sebastian shrugged as he got out of his seat. Stef noticed his father
had lost a lot of weight. He seemed small and frail. “Well, there are
six bedrooms. I’m sure we’ll all manage. I promise you’ll barely
know I’m there.”
He walked toward the back of the plane and disappeared into the
bathroom.
Jen’s eyes came open. She looked sleepy and soft. A secret little
smile curled those plump lips of her
s up. “Liars. What’s up, Stef?
Don’t want your dad to find your stash of butt plugs?”
Stef shuddered to think about it. There were far more exotic toys
than anal plugs. “I’m more worried about what he would say about
the St. Andrew’s Cross. He also might think the new violet wand I
bought is a massager. Really, it’s best he doesn’t go into the
guesthouse. For all our sakes.”
“He might know you better than you think. Our parents tend to
know us better than we imagine,” Jen said, pulling a blanket around
her. Stef pulled his blanket off his body and handed it to her. She
didn’t argue, simply tucked it around her and settled back down.
“I don’t think he knows you at all,” Nate said. His face was
flushed, his jaw perfectly square. “Especially since he thinks you’re sleeping with my wife.”
Jen grinned at the sheriff. “Didn’t you know, Nate? Callie’s been
his beard for years. Ever since they were teens.”
“She is not my beard. For god’s sake, Jennifer.” She was making
far more of this than was true. He and Callie had a very simple
agreement. She pretended to be his girlfriend, and he did stuff for her.
They took care of each other. He turned to Nate. “On several
occasions Callie accompanied me to Dallas. My father would
summon me from time to time, and Callie went with me. He never
made me stay for long. Maybe his conscience got to him, I don’t
know.”
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Sophie Oak
“Maybe he just wanted to see his son,” Jen offered.
“I doubt it. I found it awkward and unsettling to have to go to my
father’s place. I did not consider it home. It’s strange. I was born in Dallas, raised there for years, but even at the age of eight, I knew
Bliss was my home. I fought him when he decided to move back to
Dallas, and he left me there with two nannies and a staff of ten. He
summoned me home twice a year, but ignored me when I was there.
He had meetings, you see. What he really wanted to do was lecture
me. When I was seventeen he asked whether I had a girlfriend. I told
him no and was immediately presented with several applicants for the
position. I doubt it had much to do with my happiness. He simply
wanted me to marry the right sort of girl.”
Jen’s eyebrow arched. “Callie must have come as a surprise.”
“Callie’s the right sort of girl. Callie’s the perfect girl.” Nate was unwavering in support of his oft-naked wife.
Stef felt himself smile. He loved Callie Sheppard, though not in
the way his father thought. She was the sister he’d never had. Callie
was a brilliant combination of quirky and strong. She was just like the town where she had been born. And she was completely the wrong
sort of woman for a man concerned with high society to marry. She
spent far too much time at naturist camps to be comfy with jet-setters.
And yet his father had taken to Callie right away. He’d been
utterly charmed by her. Every time Stef had brought her to Dallas, his father had taken them out, and not once had he tried to change her or
talked to Stef about her beyond how sweet she was. Every time his
father called, he asked about Callie.
“Okay, I get why you used her as your fake girlfriend when you
were younger, but you’re thirty-two now and she’s taken,” Nate said,
sounding more reasonable. “Don’t you think it’s time you came
clean?”
“How many phone calls from your father have you ducked lately,
Wright?” Stef knew where to shove the knife in. Nate was completely
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estranged from his father, but the man kept calling. He seemed to
think Nate should loan him money.
Nate sighed and sat back. “Family. What are you going to do?”
Stef knew exactly what he was going to do. “I’m going to let it
ride. My dad wants me to be happy with Callie? Fine. I’ll tell him I’m going to ask her to marry me soon, and we’ll leave it at that. He’s
been sick. This is a phase. Trust me, the first emergency at Talbot
Industries, and his CEO hat will be right back on. He’ll go back to
Dallas, and I’ll get a Christmas card from his secretary.”
“Are you forgetting that I’m Callie’s husband? Well, I’m one of
her husbands. We’re not looking for a fourth, Stef.”
Now was the time to bring out his big guns. “And who facilitated
your marriage? Who introduced you in the first place? Who gave you
a job and a place to stash the big guy when he was all post-
traumatically stressed out?”
Nate’s jaw became a hard line.
Jen just nodded at Nate. “See, King Stefan. Just like I said. The
king giveth and then expects payback when you least expect it. First
it’s a simple ‘hey, come get Jen out of jail with me,’ and now you
have to give him access to your wife.”
Her teasing made him want to spank her. He really didn’t need
that mental image now. “I am not demanding to sleep with Callie. I
am simply borrowing her in an attempt to misrepresent my love life to
my father.”
Nate sat back, but suddenly a smile spread across his face. It made
Stef unaccountably nervous. “You’re right. I owe you. You know
what? Callie is meeting us at the airport. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see your father again. I’ll just step back and let you have your little ruse.”
“Thank you.” It solved one of his problems.
“I am entirely reasonable.” Nate smirked, and Stef wondered if he
was missing something.
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Sophie Oak
Before he could really process the problem, the plane began a
turn.
The flight attendant walked in and announced it was time to
buckle up. Sebastian came out and began talking about his plans for
his stay in Bliss.
Stef just wanted the whole thing to be over.
* * * *
Alexei Markov stared down at the man currently being worked
over by his partner, Ivan. Jean Claude Renard had started out like they all did, with threats and promises of retribution because he was such
an important person. And like almost all the rest, he was just a
sniveling mass of begging, pleading flesh after a couple of minutes
with Ivan. Despite his deep loathing of the man, Alexei had to admit
that Ivan was the master at what he did.
“It was here, I tell you. I hid the damn thing just like I promised.”
He managed to get the words out of his swollen lips. “Somehow she
must have figured it out.”
Ivan hit him again. Alexei could have told Renard that it didn’t
matter what he said. Ivan would use him like a punching bag because
he was a sadistic son of a bitch. Of course, a certain streak of sadism was always required when one became a mob enforcer.
Sadism, or a well-defined and patient sense of revenge.
He couldn’t help Renard even if he wanted to, and he didn’t. If he
did, he put everything he’d worked years for at risk. He was so close
to getting in the same room with Pushkin that he could taste it. Then
he would be free.
Ivan stared down a
t his victim. “My boss would like his package.
He paid for it, and he would like it now. I have to be on plane to
Moscow in four hours. We can use that time to bundle up the
package, or I can simply beat on you until we board. It is up to you. It make no difference to me.”
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47
Ivan’s English was decent, though he sounded like it pained him
to speak anything but Russian. Alexei was well aware his could use a
bit of work, but he’d spent a lot of time watching American television and becoming accustomed to their ways. If he survived his meeting
with Pushkin, he would find a way to build a new life in this country.
He would be free here.
Well, he would be an illegal immigrant on the run from both the
Russian police and the mob, but at least he wouldn’t have to listen to Ivan anymore. Ivan was a brute. Having to share a room with him for
the last year had been trying to say the least. The man did not
understand that the world had made great strides in personal hygiene
products. He seemed to think smelling like a bear made him more
intimidating.
Alexei tapped a foot on the floor. He was so tired of being a
lackey. He needed to be back in Russia, doing whatever it took to get
close to the man. “Or he could give back money to Pushkin. With
twenty-percent increase for all our trouble.”
Ivan snorted. Alexei knew that it wouldn’t satisfy Pushkin, but it
would buy this idiot an hour or two to come to his senses. He wasn’t
sure why Renard had decided to renege on his deal with the head of
one of Russia’s most notorious crime syndicates, but he seemed a
reasonable man. Most people wanted to live. Alexei did some quick
calculations. If he got Renard to come to his senses and give up the
package by five, he could be home in roughly twenty-four hours. He
could deliver the package himself. Pushkin was being strangely
paranoid about this one painting. He wanted to meet with Ivan and
Alexei himself to take the package into custody. But first he had to
convince Renard to give up the painting.
A wet cough came out of Renard’s chest. “Sure. I can do that. I
just need a little time to get the money.”
Alexei felt his eyebrows rise. “I was told Pushkin sent you two