Mastered by Malone (Haven, Texas Book 6), page 13
“They’d never find you.” He turned his back on her, as though completely confident she would toe the line like a good little girl.
Which, unfortunately, was exactly what she was going to do.
“They would if I yelled,” she muttered, not exactly meaning him to hear.
“What makes you think I wouldn’t gag you as well?” he called back. Then he opened the door and turned to grin at her. An actual grin. One that even reached his eyes, that turned them from hard and cold into melt-in-your-mouth chocolate. “And with my reputation, babe, anyone finds you bound and gagged in my office, they’re gonna think you want to be there.”
He left. Shutting the door quietly behind him. And she was left standing there with absolutely no comeback to that. She was so totally out of her league.
She slumped down onto the leather sofa and looked around her. She started to feel a bit better as she realized that while she might have just been told to stay out of sight, like a naughty child not allowed to go to the adult’s party, she’d also been left, alone, in the most interesting room in the house.
She shouldn’t. It was wrong. It was an invasion of privacy.
But when was she ever going to have an opportunity to snoop like this again?
Twenty minutes later, she was lying on the sofa on her back, staring at the ceiling when the door to the office opened. She didn’t even turn her head as she felt him approach.
He stood next to the sofa. There was silence. A lot of silence.
Aw, shit. She hated silence. Say something smart. Something that will show him you don’t give a shit about him and his orders.
“Your ceiling needs a coat of paint.”
Hmm, that wasn’t quite what she’d been aiming for.
She sighed. Then looked up at him. One eyebrow was raised as he stared down at her. There was amusement in his eyes.
Great, now she’d entertained him.
“I don’t like you right now.” And now she was acting like a teenager.
“So noted.”
She let out a low noise of frustration. Then she swung her legs around. “Cops gone?”
“Yes.”
“Anything I need to worry about?”
“I would tell you if there was.” He was watching her with interest now. She didn’t like it. Then she saw him take a sweeping glance around the office. She tensed. She’d left no sign of her snooping. She knew she hadn’t, and yet, she almost felt like he knew.
Time to leave.
“I have some laundry to do.” She tried to stand. He put his hand on her shoulder and pushed her back. It wasn’t a hard push. In fact, he barely exerted any pressure. But it was very clear he wasn’t ready to let her leave.
Shit.
“Malone, I—”
“Have fun snooping?” he asked.
Fuck.
When in trouble, she was fond of the ABDs. Avoid. Bluff. Deny.
“Excuse me?” she asked huffily. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“You think I don’t know when someone has rifled through my stuff.”
She moved her gaze around the room again, coming back to meet his amused one. What did he find so funny?
“I’m insulted you think I would snoop.”
He leaned in, all humor vanishing. “And I’m insulted that the woman I take into my home, putting everyone on this ranch in danger in order to protect, proceeds to disobey and lie to me.”
Oh. Fuck.
It seemed all that amusement at her expense was just a front. Because he was really, really angry. Scratch that, he was furious.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t find anything.”
“Of course not, I’m no amateur.”
She had no idea what he meant by that. Amateur what? No amateur at hiding shit? So he did have stuff to hide, she knew it. No one was as closed off as he was without a reason.
“Earth to Calamity Jane.”
“Stop calling me that.”
He placed his hands on his hips, still standing over her. “Do not ever go through my stuff again, understand?”
She nodded hastily.
“You want to know something, ask.”
Really? Seriously? “And you’ll answer?”
“Didn’t say that. But then you’ll know if it’s something I want you to know, won’t you? You don’t get to know everything, haven’t earned that. Likely never will. My shit is mine.”
She couldn’t argue with that. They were his secrets. He didn’t want to share them, then that was his prerogative. They weren’t in a relationship. Just because he knew all her crap didn’t mean he had to reciprocate. And she got that she’d messed up. She wouldn’t like it if someone went snooping around in her stuff.
“I really am sorry,” she told him. “That was wrong of me.”
He just gave a short nod. “On to the next topic.”
She let out a breath, feeling very tired for someone who’d only gotten up a couple of hours ago.
“You broke my rule, Mia.”
His voice was icy. Goosebumps covered her skin. A few days ago, that voice would have sent her running. But she’d had enough. After the night she’d had and the hell of the past few days, she’d had enough.
“And no one disobeys the mighty Alec Malone’s rules. King of all he surveys,” she said sarcastically.
He didn’t look surprised. Didn’t react at all other than to raise one imperious eyebrow. “Not if they’re smart, they don’t. Question is, what sort of punishment comes with breaking my law?”
Okay, so maybe she was starting to feel a little intimidated.
“You can’t just punish me for breaking one of your palatine rules. I was helping your brother, for God’s sake.”
“My brothers can take care of themselves. They are not tiny little pixies with no sense of self-preservation. They also do not have a damn hit man chasing after their asses.”
“With the shit they get up to, it’s a wonder,” she muttered.
This time both eyebrows rose. Uh-oh. “I am not happy with this new attitude.”
“Why? Because I don’t jump to do your bidding?” Getting really brave now, aren’t you?
“No.” He leaned down and grabbed her around the waist, holding her up in the air. Her feet were dangling off the ground. Holy fuck. She knew he was strong, but wow. He shook her. “Because it’s going to get you damn well killed. Is that what you want?”
“Of course it’s not what I want!”
He set her on her feet. “Then what the fuck were you thinking?”
Okay, yeah, not mad. He was furious. Absolutely down to his bones furious. And she didn’t get why. Okay, she understood she’d disobeyed his rule. But it was her ass on the line if she got caught—unless the hit man came here and shot everyone. Then she’d be responsible for everyone’s death on this ranch.
Suddenly, she wasn’t feeling so self-righteous or cocky.
“It won’t happen again.”
“Damn straight it won’t happen again. I’m going to make sure of that.”
All right, she didn’t like the sound of that.
“From now on, because you can no longer be trusted, the keys to all vehicles get locked away where you can’t get to them. Because you can no longer be trusted, Maddox has been sent into Freestown to sort out a GPS tracker for you. Now, because you can’t be trusted to follow the rules, I’m going to know where you are every minute of every day.”
She scowled up at him. “You’re not a damn king, you’re a dictator.”
“That’s right, baby girl. I’m also judge, jury, and executioner. You did the crime, now you pay for it. What did I tell you would happen if you disobeyed me?”
She froze. She remembered that conversation all too clearly. Her heart stopped then raced, making her feel ill. Her head spun.
“I was helping your brother.”
“They’re big boys. You are not here to help them. You can feed them, befriend them, try to tame them—and good luck with that—but you do not put yourself in danger for them. They get into trouble they can’t get out of, they come to me. Believe me, I’m much better equipped to handle that shit than you are.”
Of that, she had no doubt.
“You weren’t here.”
“No. I was busy. I had a nice little sub naked and tied to a St. Andrews cross. I was about to take a flogger to her ass when I was called away because you’d disappeared. You ruined my scene, Calamity Jane.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said sarcastically. Who cared about his ruined scene? Only, the image he’d built in her head was a bit too hard for her to shake. Because instead of some faceless, nameless sub she’d inserted herself into that picture. It was her that was tied naked to that St. Andrews cross, about to be flogged.
Holy shit. What was she thinking? That would hurt, right?
“It wasn’t my fault your scene was ruined, Jaret—”
“Was not dead, maimed, or lying in a hospital bed. Which are about the only reasons I’d leave a scene for one of my brothers. You are the reason I had to leave. And you are now going to pay the piper.”
He wasn’t a damn piper he was Satan in cowboy boots.
“You’re going to make me leave?” She’d have to call Mike, get him to come and get her. “Okay, I’ll go pack.”
She felt numb. She didn’t know what she was going to do. She couldn’t imagine not being here. It had only been a few weeks, but it was now home. She moved past him, walking towards the door.
“I’m not kicking you out, Mia. Why would I get a GPS tracker for you if I was going to make you go?”
She twirled, the room spinning around her sickeningly. Maybe she should have had some breakfast.
“Okay . . . okay . . . that’s good. I promise I won’t do anything like that again. No leaving the ranch. I don’t even want to leave. Didn’t want to go in the first place, but Jaret was in a mess and I care about him . . . and okay, won’t happen again. I promise.”
“That’s good to know.”
She turned to walk away again. All right, maybe he wasn’t the complete asshole she’d thought he was. She was getting a second chance.
“I didn’t give you permission to leave, Calamity Jane.”
What? For real? She swung around, holding onto her temper by a thread.
“I don’t need your permission to leave a room.”
He moved to his desk and leaned back against it. Why the hell did he have to look so freaking gorgeous? It was killing her.
“But you do, because I didn’t say you weren’t going to get punished. Your promises don’t mean much since you promised to obey the rules in the first place. So now I’m going to have to do something to make sure that you remember the consequences of disobeying me.”
She didn’t like the sound of that.
“Oh, yeah, what you going to do? Lock me in my room?” She tried to sound tough. But the shaking in her voice betrayed her.
His smile reached his eyes this time.
“Oh, no, it’s gone far beyond that. I’m going to spank you.”
11
He watched as understanding dawned over her face and braced himself for impact. He expected temper. Denial. Maybe even an apology. He didn’t much believe in apologies. It was all too easy to say sorry. If you fucked up and wanted to make something right, actions spoke louder than words.
But her reaction was none of those, and therefore completely unexpected.
She laughed.
Now, Alec had done a lot in his life. Seen a lot. He’d grown up in hell, figured his way out, got his brothers out and kept them alive, which was no mean feat. He was used to being in control. Everywhere. That control bled over into every aspect of his life, from sex to family to the ranch.
But with her, he didn’t feel quite in control. And he didn’t like it. She was a wildcard. At times, she seemed timid and shy. Although he was beginning to see that side of her less and less. His brothers had been running wild since they were born. She’d only been here a few weeks and she had them eating dinner in the dining room, taking their dirty boots off at the door, hell they even swore less when she was around.
Most women, hell, most men would cave in the face of his anger. Yet, she’d stood there and called him a dictator—which he was—and she’d stood up to him. He didn’t like it. But he kind of admired it.
She wasn’t his type. Yet, she filled his thoughts far more than he would have liked. And the other night, after her panic attack, when he’d held her all night . . .
Yeah, that had felt fucking good.
But girls like Mia weren’t for men like him. He didn’t deserve sweetness and light. He’d tarnish it. Turn it into something dark. Something he didn’t deserve to be around.
And that wouldn’t be fair. Mia deserved a happy ever after. To live in some cute little house in the suburbs with a puppy, three crazy kids, and a husband who lit up when she came into the room.
And that’s what she’d get. This momentary shit in her life would go. He’d see to that.
Which is why he should push her out that door now.
Only, she was laughing. And much as he loved the sound, he knew it for what it was. A dare.
And no one ever dared Alec Malone.
“You think that’s funny?” he growled when her laughter died down enough that she could gasp in some air. She was bent over at the waist, her hand pressed to her side as though laughing so hard had given her a stitch. Tears dripped down her cheeks. She wiped at them as she stared up at him.
“Oh, no, I don’t think it’s funny. I think it’s fucking hilarious. You’re going to spank me. Of course you are. Because I’ve fallen into some alternate reality where my boss and coworkers are all killed in some sort of fucking mob deal gone wrong. I should have been there, you know. That night, I should have fucking been there. But I messed up the crème brûlée. I messed up the crème brûlée and the head chef, who, by the way, was a complete fucking ass, yelled at me, then he threw the crème brûlée at me. So James, my boss, sent me home. He pretended it was a punishment to the head chef, Jacques, Jacques . . . like he was actually French. Oh, he liked to use a fake French accent, but I heard him talking on the phone one day while he was out back having a cigarette and that accent was pure southern.”
As she talked, she strode back and forth, a bundle of energy. Her arms moved around. Even her hair came to life, bouncing along her back as she moved.
“He saw me. Think that’s why he hated me. I knew his secret. Also, I can’t make fucking crème brûlée. I don’t know why. It just never seemed to work. Maybe I should have . . .”
“You were saying your boss sent you home?” He was loath to speak up because he was worried she’d shut down and she needed to get this shit out. It was eating her up. He knew she hadn’t told Molly much. And she’d refused any Skype sessions. She needed to purge. He knew all the details already, had read all the reports even seen the video footage of her telling the detectives covering the case what had happened. But she didn’t know that. And if he let her, she’d probably still be talking about damn crème brûlée twenty minutes from now.
“What? Huh, yeah, James is a nice guy.” She stopped. Took a deep breath. “Was a good guy. Or I thought he was. He knew Jacques would make the rest of my night hell. So he sent me home. He told me to go have dinner on him and then come back tomorrow early and practice making crème brûlée. I went out, had dinner, and then I was heading home when I realized I was missing my phone. The restaurant was closed, but I knew everyone would be cleaning up for the night. I snuck in the back way, not wanting to see Jacques. Or anyone else. The quiet should have been a clue, right? It should have been a big fucking clue, but I was too stupid to figure that out.”
“Enough,” he told her sharply.
“Enough what?” She turned her face to him. Fuck. He didn’t like the tears dripping down her cheeks, the way her freckles stood out against her pale cheeks or the dark marks under her eyes that spoke of too many sleepless nights. He didn’t like that it was obvious she’d lost weight since that video footage he’d watched of her. He definitely didn’t like that she’d lost weight and more sleep since coming here.
She was under his care.
Fuck. Why had he agreed to this? He should call Jardin tell him to get down here and sort his own shit out, take the responsibility off Alec’s hands.
That was what he should do.
But he knew he wouldn’t. Because she had attitude and backbone. And she had his brothers taking their damn dirty boots off.
He was so fucked.
“Enough putting yourself down.”
“Another of your rules, oh, great one?”
“You ought to take some care, little girl,” he said in a low voice that made her eyes widen. She needed to know he wasn’t going to roll over and let her get away with whatever shit she wanted to. She may have done something to his brothers, but he was a whole different kettle of fish.
Whatever the fuck a kettle of fish was.
But instead of looking away or backing down, she just glared up at him. “Listen, you can tell me what to do, make me do it, but you can’t tell me what to think.”
We’ll see about that.
“Tell me what happened when you went in to get your phone.”
“I’m done talking. I have a headache; I’m going to lay down.”
“I’m sorry you have a headache,” he said solicitously. “You can certainly have some time to lay down, we can take care of your punishment later when you’re feeling better.”
She froze. “You cannot be serious.”
“I am.”
She ran her fingers through her hair. “What is wrong with you? What is wrong with me? Why am I staying here? Why don’t I want to leave? I should hate it here. I should hate you. You go from cold to caring to cold again and now you’re . . . you’re threatening to spank me. What did I do to deserve this? I’m a good person. I pay my taxes on time. I don’t lie. I hold the door open for people. I always use my manners. I was living a safe, boring little life until some monster who had a beef with my boss came in and shot five people in the head. Just like that. Boom! Gone.”
