Rule of Law: A Chimera Novel, page 6
The very thought of this all-powerful man’s blood coursing through her body infused her with a sudden burst of renewed strength. Power. She could feel the hot shimmer of it sluice through her.
How far would Law go for what he wanted? Intuitively, she understood he would go all the way. Law acted. He was not a bystander. Like the sleek, powerful panther he reminded her of, he would be on constant prowl. Moving through the jungle in search of his next conquest, whether it be friend, foe, or—her heart slammed against her chest—meal. He was the ultimate predator.
She scooted up against the mountain of pillows behind her. The linens slid down her chest to her lap. She was in his bed. Again.
He sat across from her in a black leather chair. She squirmed under the weight of his stare.
Damn him. She craved the feel of the hot heat of his body covering hers. His teeth at her neck, his arms possessively holding her down as he thrust powerfully into her.
This couldn’t be real. She had to be imagining it. And yet… Her eyes widened as a soft gasp of breath escaped her parted lips. The primal vision aroused her beyond belief.
Her eyes narrowed as his lips lifted into a self-satisfied smile. Did he know what she was thinking? How could he? Was it because they were now inexorably connected?
Law was a mix of extremes. His power absolute. Yet, he was a sensualist. Everything he surrounded himself with screamed it. And naturally dominant. She knew instinctively that he could inflict extreme pain with one hand and punishing pleasure with the other.
She, Alana Monroe Conti, had tremendous value to this man. In that, she wielded some power even though she resented his blood pulsing through her veins. Heat shot from her belly to her nipples when the vision of her naked on this bed, awaiting the torture of his touch, flashed through her mind’s eye.
Law’s gaze dropped to her chest. Her nipples tightened.
“You owe me. Twice now,” he drawled.
“I don’t owe you what I didn’t ask for.”
“Really, Brandi?” he purred her name. She hated the way he said it. She despised the alias and all it represented. But she would never tell him who she was.
Didn’t matter, she told herself. He most likely knew everything about her by now. The files and pictures of her on the computer screen in his secret command center proved otherwise. How long had he been watching her?
Stiffening, she looked down at the cornflower blue camisole nightshirt and matching panties.
Heat stung her cheeks. “Who dressed me?”
Those lazy green eyes sparked as a sly smile curved his lips. “I did.” She could hear the deep thrum of satisfaction in his voice.
“What else did you do to me while I was unconscious?” Vague memories slowly surfaced, one by one. Endless tossing and turning. The inability to sleep but not being awake. The bone chilling cold, the sweats and nausea. He’d helped her to the bathroom, made her sip soup and …what else? Her heart thudded. He’d soothed her through her night terrors. Gently. So gently.
“Your body was very receptive to my touch, Brandi.”
She snapped out of it. “You’re disgusting.”
Law shook his head. “You misunderstand. I alone cared for you. I fed you, I bathed you, I dressed you.” He gave her a long look. “And each time I touched you, you begged me to touch you more. You don’t remember?”
“No! I would never want that! Never with you.”
“Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”
She wished she had the strength to slug him. “Did you—?”
“Did I what, Brandi?”
“Have sex with me?”
“That depends on your definition of having sex.”
“Did you fuck me?”
His reply was instantaneous. “No. And not only did I not fuck you, I didn’t suck you, finger you, or touch either one of those eager nipples of yours.”
Lana sighed. “Thank you for not being a complete asshole.”
So her fantasy had never happened. He never crossed the line the way she’d imagined.
Of course, now that she was lucid enough to remember everything, she understood that for a man like Law there would be serious consequences for what she’d done to herself.
She was in no rush to find out what those consequences were.
For now, she was still a prisoner in his domain. At least now the metal shades that were closed when she first awoke had slowly opened, allowing the afternoon sun to filter through.
Feet propped up on an ottoman, leaning back in the leather chair, Law didn’t blink when he said, “And by the way, if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I’ll fucking kill you myself.”
“Fine with me. Save us both the effort and just get it over with,” she countered. Why hadn’t he just let her die? What plans did he have for her? He was a criminal. He’d stolen her from a terrible man who had paid over two hundred thousand dollars for her. Who did that? And why?
She used her uninjured arm to push herself back against the headboard and touched metal. Lana looked down and saw a short chain attached to—oh hell. A nervous buzz began in her belly.
“Handcuffs? Really?”
Chapter Nine
“Solid gold.”
“I’m honored. Or should I be?” He made no reply as she looked at the gauze dressing over the inside of her elbow, a souvenir of his blood donation that she desperately wanted to rip off. That arm was cradled in an open sheepskin-lined cast. The other was free. Maybe if she got him to come closer, she could land a blow. At the very least it would get that smug expression off his face.
She circled her wrist with the open cuff—and locked it. “Look at that. It really works,” she said mockingly. “And I thought it was a sex toy.”
Law sighed. He reached into his front jeans pocket and withdrew a small gold key.
“Letting me go?”
“Not really.”
When she focused on Law, finally seeing him clearly, he looked like he hadn’t slept for a week. “Nice of you.”
He stood up and shrugged. “Today is your eighth day.”
When he touched her hand to unlock the handcuff, his warmth penetrated her cold. Exhaling rapidly, Lana collected herself. Anxiety shimmered through her when he leaned across her. Despite his obvious lack of sleep, he smelled clean. Balsam with a hint of leather.
Stepping back, he held out a hand to her.
“I don’t need your help,” she said, stubbornly.
“You’ve lost blood, eaten almost nothing, and barely moved in eight days. Take my hand or I’ll carry you to the bathroom.”
Not wanting him to touch her any more than needed, Lana reluctantly extended her hands. He slid an arm beneath her back and took her right hand. Gently, he lifted her to a sitting position. The room whirled around her.
Lana swallowed hard. That old anxious feeling that slowly began to build when she needed a fix began to creep up on her. Fighting it back, she raised her chin, catching then holding Law’s gaze. Dozens of questions with answers only he could provide swirled in her head. Time to ask them. Before her voice failed her.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re keeping me here?”
“I have my reasons. Is that enough of an answer?”
“No. But I can guess.” She took the bull by the horns. “For starters, how do you know who my father is?”
Law hoisted her up into his arms like she weighed nothing. “It’s my job to know everything about every person who sets foot in my world.”
He strode toward the luxurious bathroom and set her down on the closed toilet seat.
“Everything you need, with the exception of a replacement drinking glass, you’ll find in the closet, including the robe. Leave the door open, do what you need to do, then call me.”
“What I need is something to take the edge off!” she yelled at his retreating back.
“Suck it up.”
Lana sat for a long time, shivering in the bathroom, rationalizing away the feeling. It was December in California, and despite the temperate year-round climate, it still got cold.
Not in a climate-controlled man cave with invisible doors, she told herself, knowing exactly why she was shivering. She needed another shot from that doctor. Who was nowhere around, apparently. Law really was in charge.
Her loosely braided hair smelled like shampoo. Her nails were filed smooth and polish free, her body clean. Rolling her eyes back, she leaned into the side of the marble vanity. He had bathed her. Touched her in her most intimate areas, and she had been powerless to stop him. What he’d done wasn’t entirely her fantasy. But she knew he wasn’t the kind of man to take advantage of an unconscious woman. He had too much ego for that. No—Law liked his women hyper aware and begging for it.
She could get embarrassed, but then Lana reminded herself she had stripped for months.
What had started off as a cocktailing job for some quick cash had turned into a heroin-fueled horror show. She had done things she never thought she would do. Things she had sworn she would never do.
Lana could be the poster child for the Never Say Never club.
But there was one never that would stand. She would never fall in love. Not that she could. She didn’t believe in it. Lust? Sure, she’d witnessed it first hand in her own home. It had torn her family apart.
Lust—not love—was dangerous. No one was immune. Least of all her.
For the first time in her life she felt vulnerable to it. Law was virile, compellingly so. And now that potent blood pulsed though her veins.
He was literally inside her—just not in the usual way. Alive, taunting, and oh so tempting. She could easily forget everything she had ever learned or felt about sex, and trust it to take her to a new exciting universe.
If she made the jump? She trembled all over as she stood. She would fall longer and harder than she ever had coming off a heroin high. She wasn’t cut out for the roller coaster ride that was Law.
No. She had to get away. Her drive to escape exploded inside her with redoubled intensity. She would do whatever was necessary to disappear before anyone knew she was gone.
To that end, it would be imperative to convince Law that she was intrigued by his secret world and more than willing to be part of it. Let him think he held sway over her emotions, her body even, when it was she who was pulling the strings.
A renewed determination swelled within her. She would do it this time. She would stay clean, focused, committed to escape.
She almost didn’t recognize the woman staring back at her in the mirror. Despite the soul sucking fatigue that gripped her, she actually looked—normal. Her natural honey blonde hair shone with health. Her eyes were clear and blue, no hint of bruising or redness. Her skin clean and smooth, no hollowed cheeks or cracked lips.
Finding a toothbrush and toothpaste, she quickly brushed her teeth and washed her hands after she peed.
As she reached for the short robe, a tall shadow fell across the threshold. Law. Shoulders exaggerated by the light pouring over them and his powerful arms. The dark outline of his hand seemed to cup her between her thighs. Lana stepped back as if he had actually touched her there.
“Don’t.”
“I already did, Brandi.”
Angry, she tightened the sash around her waist. “What right do you have to do that?”
“I own the rights to every inch of you.”
“You stole the rights!”
“Would you like me to return you?”
“Yeah. And I don’t care to who. Anyone would be better than you,” she said, knowing he wouldn’t call her bluff. His man True had shot Carson twice for her contract. He wasn’t giving her back.
The documents she’d pulled up on one of the computers in his control room suddenly made sense.
“Did you kidnap me to get to my father? ‘Cause if you did, I hate to break it to you, but he thinks I’m dead and he’s damn happy about it. So, that’s a strikeout. Can I go now?”
Law crossed his arms over his chest before he answered. Like he was protecting himself. Why?
“I kidnapped you to get to the man who purchased your contract. But first I needed to know how valuable you were to him.” His eyes twinkled as his full lips lifted into a sly smile. “Now I know.”
“Dragovich?” She’d not only heard the name mentioned by Carson and True, but whispered now and then by some of the wilder girls at the Ultimate. And once she overheard Anton having a violent argument with him on the phone in his club office.
“Do you know the identity of the man who purchased you?” Law asked.
“N-no. Not personally.”
“Let me tell you a little about him. He’s a modern day barbarian. No one who defies him lives to brag about it. He maims and kills for sport. ”
“Let me guess. You do it for a reason.”
He nodded.
Lana threw him a contemptuous look. “Do you know him, this Dragovich?”
“Really well.”
Lana swallowed. “Isn’t he going to be angry that you stole me?”
“He’s beyond angry. He still thinks he owns you. And he doesn’t like to share. Which could work to my advantage.”
Frissons of panic assailed her.
“Does that mean you’re going to force me to have sex with you?” she blurted.
Law threw his head back and laughed. If she didn’t hate him so much she’d admit how the gesture changed everything about him.
“What’s so funny about that?” she demanded.
Shaking his head, he reached out to her. She only took his hand because she seriously didn’t think she had the strength to walk back to the bed by herself.
“I have never forced myself on a woman in my life.” He grinned, the action devastatingly handsome. She should be afraid. For some reason she wasn’t.
When they moved toward his bed, she stopped. “I don’t want to be here. Let me go back to the white room.”
“Currently not an option.”
Not strong enough to argue, she continued into the large room. When she got to the bed, she pushed off him and sat on the edge.
“How did you take care of me?”
“Very carefully.”
“Seriously. If I’ve been down for eight days like you said, how is it that I don’t have bed sores or remember much of anything?”
“Doc kept you slightly sedated. Not enough that I couldn’t walk you to and from the bathroom or get a little food into you.”
“Why sedate me?”
“You were going through withdrawal. You were combative and uncooperative. Sedating you allowed me to tend you.”
“I’m a junkie and you sedated me? Kind of defeats the purpose.”
“Not with opioids.”
“Who else other than you and the doctor knows what happened?”
“Just Monty.” His eyes narrowed. “You remember Monty, don’t you?”
The baby-faced guy in the stairway. Her cheeks warmed. “Did I get him in trouble?”
“No, Monty isn’t capable of doing anything to anger me, but you certainly hurt his feelings. When you see him you will apologize.”
“For what? Trying to escape a psycho kidnapper who thinks he can do whatever he wants to me or with me? Monty was in the way. And I’m not going to apologize to him.” She jabbed at Law’s rock-hard chest. He barely seemed to notice. “Or you.”
Law was silent. Not even looking at her. Lana kind of lost it and jabbed his chest again. “And don’t give me any crap about that contract!”
He pushed her hand away. “It exists. Deal with it.”
“How? What kind of man are you to enforce it?”
“A man on a mission.”
“Never mind that kidnapping and keeping me against my will is against the fucking law!”
“When I have what I want, you will be free to walk out the door.”
“With what strings?”
“None at all.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You don’t have to.”
She studied his impassive expression for a long moment, thinking.
Truth be told, playing along might well be the fastest way to get away. In the meantime, she was safer here than outside. And being able, however unwillingly, to permanently kick her habit in his luxurious private suite certainly beat the hell out of a grungy rehab center.
Could work. Had to work. She didn’t see any other fucking options. Lana slowly leaned back onto the cool sheets.
Law’s penthouse invited the senses to indulge in opulent sights, textures, smells and sounds. Every inch of her surroundings provided extraordinary visual pleasure.
Looking at him did too.
Her nipples tingled as her mind ran wild with wanton images of his undoubted prowess in this big bed. He said he wasn’t attracted to her. She lifted her eyes to his intense green gaze and caught her breath.
“I want your promise you won’t try to escape again,” he commanded.
Cocking her head to the side as if contemplating his request, she sat up straighter. Holding his gaze, she pulled the sash, allowing her robe to fall open. Then, nonchalantly, she shrugged it off.
His eyes dilated, his nostrils flared. For a man who flaunted his self-control, Law looked decidedly like a mortal who wanted something from her…
Settling into the mountain of pillows, she lifted her hips and slowly drew her panties down her thighs, to her knees, then her toes, revealing her smooth body inch by slow inch. Handing them to him, she murmured, “These are scratchy.”
Smiling softly, she rolled over onto her belly, careful not to put pressure on her wound, allowing Law plenty of time to take a long, hot look at her dancer’s ass. Holding her wrists suggestively over her head, she said, “I’m afraid I can’t guarantee I won’t try to escape.”
Law smacked her bare bottom. “I’m afraid that won’t do.”
Rolling over, she grabbed the headboard with her good arm and challenged him. “So what are you going to do about it?”
