Kitabı oku: «King's Ransom», sayfa 3
CHAPTER FIVE
Ajax
I SAT BACK in my chair on the big stone terrace that looked out over the sea, nursing an espresso. The sun was warm on my face, the ocean busy throwing itself against the rocks below the house I’d claimed after Dad had gone to jail.
Last night I’d shown Imogen to the bedroom I’d set aside for her and she’d gone quietly, without peppering me with any more questions.
Satisfied she was secure for the night, I’d then sent texts to my two brothers, telling them that I wouldn’t be around for a week or so and that they were to handle any emergencies that might crop up.
Luckily their personal lives had settled down recently with two lovely women keeping them on the straight and narrow. God knows it was about time someone other than me stayed on top of things, and I was appreciative.
It certainly helped me now when I had to concentrate all my attention on a lovely woman of my own.
A strangely fascinating young woman, who was not in any way what I’d anticipated.
The virgin part, yes. The questions and the excitement and the sheer vibrating energy of her, not so much.
I hoped that wouldn’t become a problem.
But that was an issue for later. First I had to contact White, let him know I had Imogen, and deliver my ultimatum.
I picked up my phone and pressed a button, waiting until the contact I’d been given answered the call.
‘Yeah, who is this?’ It was one of White’s thugs.
‘Ajax King,’ I said curtly. ‘Tell your boss I have his daughter. If he wants to see her safe and sound, get him to call me at this number.’
I didn’t wait for a response, cutting the call then putting the phone back down on the table and ignoring it as it began to ring almost immediately.
I wasn’t going to answer him right away. He could stew for a couple of hours.
Glancing down at my watch, I checked the time.
Nine-thirty in the morning.
Jesus Christ, just how long was Imogen going to sleep?
Kidnapped women were not supposed to have long lie-ins when their captors were waiting to inform them of the rules of their captivity.
In spite of my satisfaction with how easily my plan had come together, a thread of annoyance wound through me.
I couldn’t believe how unafraid of me she’d been in the van last night, even when I’d deliberately been explicit, thinking that would scare the shit out of her.
But the bloody woman only seemed to find that even more exciting. And then she’d touched me, laid those delicate little fingers on my chest, pressing lightly, feeling me.
As if she had no idea about the chemistry flaring between us.
As if I was no fucking threat to her at all.
That touch shouldn’t have affected me in the slightest.
But it had.
Given that, I shouldn’t have kissed her and Christ knew why I had. Perhaps it was simply the way she’d looked at me, as if she’d never seen anything so fascinating in all her life, and then the assumption that I didn’t want her, like she’d be disappointed if I didn’t...
Nice justifications. You just wanted her.
But since when had what I wanted ever mattered?
Except her lips had been as soft as I’d known they would be, and she’d smelled of something sweet, something that had made my heart twist inside my chest. Roses. My mother’s favourite flower.
Ah, fuck, what was wrong with me? It was just a kiss from a wide-eyed virgin. Nothing to get wound up about.
Whatever my own feelings on the subject, though, one thing was clear: her virginity was the only leverage I had and so it had to remain intact.
I had to stay focused on my end game, because that was all that mattered.
Even if some other things get broken?
Yes, even then. Years ago, I’d had to stand by while my middle brother, Leon, had been kidnapped and tortured at the hands of my father’s enemies, and let my youngest brother, Xander, be used as some kind of evil financial genius to grow Dad’s empire.
That was my fault, my responsibility.
But my goal had always been to take Dad down, to save my city, and that outweighed everything. Even if it meant pretending I was on board with everything Dad did, no matter how it had sickened me.
The end justified any means.
And even now that end had been accomplished, the story wasn’t done. We still had enemies. And I would keep protecting my brothers.
I’d do the hard things so that no one else had to.
I sipped my coffee, gazing out at the sea, white-capped and with a few boats sailing here and there. It was a peaceful view and one I’d always loved when I was a kid, imagining I could just get in one of those boats and sail the fuck away, escape my father and his legacy for good.
A dream.
Despite the small yacht I kept in the boathouse at the foot of the cliffs, I’d never escaped and I was never going to.
Dad might be in jail, but he wasn’t the only one with a life sentence. That was fine, though. It was something I’d accepted long ago.
I glanced down to check the time again.
Quarter to ten.
Time for my prisoner to get the hell up.
I put my coffee down on the table and went back into the house, making my way into the wing that had once housed my stepsister and Dad’s second wife, and which I’d had renovated as guest quarters.
There was room enough to house an entire football team, though right now there was only the one occupant.
The unexpected little virgin I’d kidnapped the night before.
I strode down the hall that ran the length of the wing, the polished floorboards shining in the sunlight coming through the windows.
Arriving at Imogen’s door, I stopped outside it and knocked lightly.
There was no response.
Jesus, she’d better still be in there. Not that she’d be able to escape even if she wanted to, not given the security I’d surrounded the house with. The place was a fortress. Nothing got in or out. Including her.
Still, it was better to be safe than sorry so I didn’t wait, pushing the door open and stepping inside.
The room faced the ocean, one wall just glass to enhance the view. A king-sized bed had been pushed up against the wall at right angles to the glass, and in the centre of the bed, all curled up like a sleepy cat, was Imogen.
Sunlight fell over the bed, her long, silky pale hair tangled across the white linen of the pillowcases, a sheet wrapping around her middle, leaving the rest of her uncovered. She hadn’t even bothered to undress, and was still wearing her white dress.
Her hands were tucked under her chin, her pale lashes lying motionless on her cheeks, deeply asleep. A smile curved that pretty mouth I’d kissed the night before, as if she was tucked up in her own bed and having a lovely dream, not a prisoner of Sydney’s most infamous King.
Lust flickered to life inside me, dark and dirty. I wanted to go over to the bed, pull away her dress, uncover her satiny, strokeable skin and ravage her carnal mouth. Find out whether she’d be as wild and electric with my dick inside her as I thought she’d be. Whether she’d shock those long dead parts of me back into life with a touch...
Ignoring the lust, I leaned against the doorframe instead, taking a moment to study her uninterrupted.
Last night she’d been happy that I’d kidnapped her and even though her lack of fear of me had been annoying, it did tell me one thing: being captured by me was preferable to being her father’s prisoner.
I wondered why. Her father had his own fledgling crime syndicate going on, extortion and violence the means he used to keep his followers loyal, and being related to someone like that wasn’t exactly going to be a picnic. Hell, I should know. I was related to a prick like that myself.
But why was being my prisoner preferable to being his? I didn’t use violence, not these days, but I was going to use her the way he had—for my own ends. The only thing that distinguished me from him was that my goal was ultimately to protect people.
Pushing myself away from the doorframe, I moved over to the side of the bed. She slept on, completely unaware that her kidnapper was standing beside her, staring at her.
Hell. The woman had no sense of danger whatsoever.
You like that. You like that a lot.
Imogen shifted, making a sexy noise and snuggling into the pillow. The top of her strapless dress had pulled down, her rounded breasts pushing against it.
My cock, the predictable fuck, hardened at the view. I ignored it.
‘Wake up, little one.’ I couldn’t keep the growl out of my voice. ‘I’m getting tired of waiting for you.’
She made another of those noises, then her lashes fluttered and she sighed, a sliver of green appearing as she opened her eyes.
Automatically, I searched her face for any signs of fear but there were none. Apparently, waking up to find me standing beside her bed wasn’t frightening or even all that surprising.
In fact, as her gaze found mine, that delicious velvety mouth turned up in a slow and sleepy smile.
She’s delectable.
The heat I’d been fighting tightened its grip.
‘Oh,’ she said, the word exhaled on a long, relieved-sounding breath. ‘Thank God. I was afraid you were a dream.’
‘I’m not a dream,’ I said flatly. ‘I’m a nightmare.’
She grinned then threw her arms above her head, stretching unselfconsciously in the sunlight like a sleepy cat. ‘No, you’re not. And it was definitely not a nightmare.’
The top of her dress dipped even lower, revealing lots of pale silky skin, and, despite myself, I couldn’t stop staring. My hands itched to tug that fabric down, to see what colour her nipples were and what they might taste like if I sucked on them.
‘Are you sure?’ I finally dragged my gaze from her chest, but looking into her eyes wasn’t any better. They were wide, the colour of new grass, and I caught a hint of her scent—roses and heat...
Delicious.
‘Oh, I’m sure.’ She blinked at me, apparently unaware of how close to the knife-edge I was. ‘I can even tell you about it if you want.’
‘I do not want.’ I kept my voice cold, trying to force away the ache in my groin. ‘What I would like is for you to listen. I have some things I need to say to you.’
‘Really?’ Her tongue crept out, small and pink, touching her top lip. The move wasn’t flirtatious but I was riveted anyway. ‘What things?’
I knew I should turn away, look at something other than that small pink tongue and soft mouth; that tiny mole near her upper lip; the pulse at the base of her pale throat.
But that would be to admit I wasn’t in control of this situation, that somehow she had the power here, and there was no way in hell I was doing that.
So I continued to stare at her. ‘Your father. I’ve told him I have you.’
Her gold-tipped lashes swept down, veiling her gaze. ‘Oh. I see.’ Slowly she pushed herself up so she was sitting on the bed, tugging up the top of her dress as she did so, which was probably a good thing considering the state of my damn cock. ‘And what did he say?’
‘I didn’t give him a chance to say anything. Once he’s got the message he’ll call me.’
She sat with her head bent, looking down at her hands twisted in her lap. Her pale hair lay over her shoulders and streamed down her back, gleaming in the sun like new minted gold.
There was a stillness to her now, that vibrating energy muted. ‘So what’s going to happen now then?’
‘What do you mean, what’s going to happen now?’ I frowned. ‘Nothing’s going to happen now. You’re my prisoner and you stay here. End of story.’
‘I don’t care about that.’ She lifted her head. ‘What I want to know is when you’re going to ruin me. I mean, that’s what you said you were going to do.’ Something that looked a lot like disappointment glittered in her eyes. ‘Or did you not mean it?’
CHAPTER SIX
Imogen
YES, I WAS disappointed and, even though I tried, I couldn’t hide it.
Last night when he’d shown me to my room and told me there was no point escaping because the whole house was surrounded by his men, I’d been expecting him to continue what he’d started with that kiss.
But he hadn’t. He’d pointed out the en suite bathroom then left.
It was a bit of an unhappy surprise after I’d decided that he was the perfect way to get my revenge on Dad.
I’d decided not to argue about it, though. I was tired anyway and consoled myself with the thought that maybe I could ask him about it the next day.
So I’d lain down on the bed fully dressed, shut my eyes and had gone out like a light.
It had been the best sleep I’d had in years, and that dream I’d had about him had really helped.
My very naughty dream.
I’d had sex dreams in the past, usually involving faceless men who would touch me and then walk away, leaving me hot and aching and restless with feelings I didn’t understand.
But not last night. Last night I’d dreamed I’d stayed in that van and this time the man wasn’t faceless. He had rough, blunt, handsome features and eyes the colour of a winter sky. And he’d watched me as I pulled up my dress, telling me what to do in his deep, harsh voice...
God, so hot. And now there was an ache between my legs, a throbbing heat. I wanted him to touch me, to make good on all the threats he’d delivered the night before, but, given the way he was standing there, the expression on his face utterly impassive, it was obvious he had no intention of doing so.
Dammit.
Did that mean that my one and only chance for getting back at Dad, of having any kind of choice about being with a man I wanted, was gone?
To make matters worse, Ajax looked unbelievably good in the white T-shirt and jeans he had on, the short sleeves exposing heavily muscled arms and inked olive skin. I hadn’t realised he was tattooed and I could barely drag my gaze from all those black lines snaking around his biceps and forearms. That and his beautiful mouth. And the way the cotton pulled over his broad chest...
I could barely drag my gaze from him, full stop.
He was just taunting me now, wasn’t he?
‘No.’ He crossed his arms across that incredible chest. ‘I didn’t mean it.’
It was strange to feel the hurt so personally, but I did.
‘So you lied,’ I said, only just stopping myself from crossing my arms too.
Ajax frowned, the mesmerising blue of his eyes sharpening. ‘I’m not sure I like your tone.’
I should have stopped arguing, but I wasn’t good at hiding my feelings and the disappointment was biting unexpectedly deep. ‘You told me you wanted me. Was that a lie?’
‘You should be more worried about the fact that you’re my prisoner, not whether or not I’m going to fuck you.’
I lifted my chin. ‘You know, for an ex-criminal mastermind, or whatever you are, you’re not very smart. I don’t care about being kidnapped or about being your prisoner.’
‘You should care.’
‘Why? I just wanted to get away from Dad and you helped me do that.’
‘I did not help you.’
I sniffed. ‘Whatever, dude. As far as I’m concerned, you got me away from Dad and that’s the only thing that matters to me.’
A muscle leapt in the side of his impressive jaw. ‘You don’t care that all you’ve done is swap cages?’
‘No. Anyway, you told me last night you’d let me go when Dad leaves Sydney.’ At least Ajax’s cage wouldn’t end up crushing me. Probably.
He stared at me for a minute, not saying anything. As if he couldn’t quite figure me out. Which I liked. Especially considering I got nothing but dismissal from Dad.
‘If he doesn’t,’ Ajax said, ‘I’m going to take your virginity. You do understand that, don’t you?’
Seriously? He thought I didn’t understand? Maybe I should have told him what I’d decided, but if he was grumpy now, he’d definitely be grumpy about the fact that I wanted to use him purely as a way to get back at Dad.
I gave him an exasperated look. ‘And do you understand that I’m okay with you taking my virginity? I mean, why do you think I didn’t mind any of what you said to me last night in the van?’
‘Little one, you barely know me. And you’ve certainly got no fucking idea what losing your virginity to me even means.’
‘Okay, first, like I told you last night, I’m not stupid. I have some idea what losing my virginity means. Second, I’ve read about you. I know about your reputation.’
He remained motionless beside the bed, his eyes glittering strangely, his big body radiating tension. ‘Whatever you heard about my reputation, just know that it’s twice as bad and twice as fucked up as any of the rumours. I’m not a man you want anywhere near your bed, Imogen.’
That didn’t sound like a ‘no’. More like a...warning.
Too bad I didn’t care about warnings.
‘Why not?’ I asked. ‘The rumours said you once took down a drug ring all by yourself and that you broke the kneecaps of—’
‘Enough.’ His voice was as hard and cold as the look in his eyes. ‘You’ll remain my prisoner until your father leaves Sydney. That’s all.’
I bit my lip, trying to hold my tongue and hide my disappointment.
Except I could see my chance for revenge slipping further and further away and a question came out all the same. ‘So all those threats last night were empty ones?’
His scowl became thunderous. ‘Don’t push me.’
Another warning. Which I also ignored.
If I couldn’t change his mind now, then I’d be returned to Dad like an unwanted present, free to be handed to whomever pleased him the most.
And I would never, ever have this chance, this choice again.
‘Why not?’ I asked. ‘What are you going to do to me? I know you won’t hurt me—’
‘You don’t know that.’
‘Yes, I do. You didn’t last night when you kidnapped me, which means you’re not going to now. I mean, you could have used my life to get Dad to do what you want, but you didn’t. You used my virginity. Which is a whole lot friendlier than, say, actual murder.’
His expression shifted, the look in his eyes sharpening. ‘Tell me why you were so pleased to be kidnapped by me.’
The change of subject caught me off guard. Should I tell him everything? Maybe I shouldn’t.
It said something about me that I hadn’t realised how prescribed my life had become until I was eighteen, and I was a bit of ashamed of that. And then there was the fact that it had almost taken a man’s life to make me see it.
Yeah, I wasn’t too keen to share that with him.
I’d had one attempt at a normal life, where I’d tried to have friends, a job, go to uni—all the things a girl my age should have. And it had been great—until I’d impulsively asked a guy I liked out for coffee, only to have poor Cameron beaten half to death in an alleyway.
Dad had called me into his office afterwards to inform me that it had been him who’d ordered it and that I needed to be more careful with whom I associated. That had been a wake-up call for me about how far he was prepared to go to keep me out of anyone’s reach.
I’d wanted to leave ever since, but the opportunity had never presented itself until Ajax had showed up.
‘I was tired of being a prisoner,’ I said, deciding to keep some of the truth to myself. ‘I’d been trying to figure out how to get away from him for ages and you came along at just the right time.’
His gaze roamed over me and I felt it like the sunlight falling on my skin. No, hotter than that. Way hotter. ‘You don’t act like a woman who’s been a prisoner for years.’
‘How is a woman who’s been a prisoner for years supposed to act?’ I shifted on the bed, restless all of a sudden.
I didn’t want to sit here and talk about Dad and how he’d curtailed my life. Or about how I’d been so desperate for his approval that I’d let him. Or about Mum and the constant reminder of the debt I had to pay.
You can’t pay it now.
And I never would. But surely that didn’t mean I wasn’t allowed to have a life? I wanted to have a taste of all the stuff I’d missed out on. Stuff like exploring having sex with Ajax King.
Surely that was allowed?
Except Ajax completely ignored my slightly pissy tone. ‘Did he hurt you?’
‘Who? Dad?’ I moved to the side of the bed and slipped off it. Not physically.’ Emotionally, yes. Another thing I didn’t want to talk about.
I walked past Ajax and went over to the massive windows that looked out over the sea. It was so beautiful. The only thing I’d seen from the windows of Dad’s isolated house in the Blue Mountains, where I mainly lived, was trees and paddocks and yet more trees.
‘Wow,’ I breathed, staring at the ocean and white-capped waves and the yachts sailing on it. ‘What an amazing view. Can I go outside and see it? Do you have a boat?’
‘No, you can’t go outside, not yet. And yes, I have a boat.’
I could feel the pressure of his stare against my back but I didn’t turn around, keeping my gaze on the sea, enjoying the way he was looking at me. ‘Oh, good. Can I go out—?’
‘What did he do?’ Ajax’s deep voice cut through mine like a hot knife through cold butter.
The damn man had a one-track mind.
‘Can we not talk about that?’ Slowly I turned around. ‘Can’t we talk about what you promised me in the van last night?’
Ajax had remained by the bed, but was now facing me, his arms folded across his chest. The expression on his hard features was difficult to read, but something steely glinted in his eyes. ‘I’m not sleeping with you, Imogen. I’ve already made that clear.’
He said it so...flatly. As if that kiss he’d given me, that small taste of pleasure, didn’t mean a thing.
Of course it didn’t. He just told you he didn’t mean it. The real question is: why does it mean so much to you?
Wasn’t that obvious? Dad had told me what to do my entire life and now I had a chance to do what I wanted for a change, I couldn’t—wouldn’t—give it up.
‘You’re not going to sleep with me yet,’ I amended for him. ‘But why can’t we do it now? Dad will never know.’
‘He will if he demands a doctor’s examination.’
My face went hot because, knowing Dad, that’s exactly what he would demand.
How humiliating.
‘As it stands now,’ Ajax went on ruthlessly, ‘he’s going to have to take my word that I haven’t touched you.’
‘You could...lie, maybe?’ I tried not to sound too hopeful.
But that was clearly the wrong thing to say because the blue of his eyes became ice. ‘My word as a King means something to men like him. And I won’t put that at risk with a lie simply because you want to lose your virginity.’
I blinked, feeling like he’d thrown a bucket of cold water over me, with an extra helping of shame following along behind it. I’d gone full Imogen on him last night, not even bothering to try and contain myself. Asking questions and interrupting. Touching him without asking and then getting annoyed when he told me to stop.
I’d made it all about me. I hadn’t even thought about him.
‘I’m sorry.’ I shoved away my disappointment, trying to regain my dignity. ‘You don’t want to sleep with me and that’s fine. I respect that.’
But something in my tone must have given me away because the muscle in the side of his jaw leapt again. ‘You’re a sexy woman, Imogen. And it’s not about your lack of attractiveness, understand? But nothing gets in the way of me achieving a goal, and that includes any personal distractions.’
I didn’t take offence at being lumped under the heading of ‘personal distractions’. I was too curious.
‘The goal being to get Dad out of the city?’ I asked. ‘Why?’
‘Why do you think? Your father is trying to set himself up as a pretender to Dad’s empty throne and that’s not happening. Not while I can still fucking breathe.’
A whisper of cold swept through me. I knew who my father was. I knew that the money we had didn’t come from him working hard. I understood that my mother’s death had left a hole inside him that he’d been struggling to fill. I’d once wanted to be the one who helped him fill that hole, but that had been before he’d made it clear that I could never be that for him.
He didn’t want the child his wife had died giving birth to.
He preferred money. He preferred power.
Of course he’d want to be the new Augustus King.
At that moment, Ajax’s phone started buzzing.
He pulled it from his pocket and checked the screen then he hit the answer button and raised it to his ear. ‘King.’
Silence fell as whoever was on the other end of the call talked.
Ajax simply stared at me. ‘Listen,’ he said eventually, his voice ice-cold. ‘Here’s what’s going to happen. The only way you’ll get your daughter back is if you get the fuck out of Sydney and stay out. And if you don’t? Then I’ll take her precious virginity and make her mine.’
Another silence fell, Ajax’s gaze burning.
Was it weird to find the way he’d said that hot? Not that I cared if it was weird or not. It was hot. Especially the way he’d said ‘make her mine’.
Calm down. You’ve known him approximately twelve hours or less.
So? It wasn’t like I was going to fall in love with him or anything. This was all about attraction.
‘Yes,’ Ajax went on. ‘She’s alive.’ He held out his phone towards me. ‘Say something to your father, Imogen.’
I looked at the phone and everything I’d been thinking vanished from my head as a wave of dread swept through me.
I didn’t want to talk to Dad. He’d be disgusted with me for allowing myself to be taken. And it would be my fault. Everything was my fault.
Why do you still care what he thinks?
I didn’t know. But that didn’t change the fact that I cared.
Ajax’s blue gaze narrowed then, as abruptly as he’d pointed the phone at me, he lifted it back to his ear. ‘She’ll speak to you later. Remember what I said.’ Then he disconnected the call without another word.
I cleared my throat, feeling like an idiot, but Ajax spoke before I could say anything. ‘Take a shower if you like—I’ve asked my housekeeper to leave you some clothes. There’s breakfast on the terrace for you when you’re done. You’re allowed to go anywhere in the house including outside, but the top floor is off limits.’ He paused, giving me a look that pinned me where I stood. ‘I’m going to be out the rest of the day, but don’t worry. You’re safe here. Understand?’
‘Yes,’ I croaked. ‘But where are you—?’
‘Later,’ he said. ‘We’ll talk more later.’
And, before I could ask him any more questions, he turned and walked out.
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