Charm

‘Can I get to the counter?’ My voice sounds tinny and unreal, and I sense movement behind me as more of them gather round.

‘What counter, babe?’ He’s just spoken but his mouth hardly moved. And I sense the others closing in. Now I’m surrounded and all at once I’m scared.

More men quietly join them, appearing from nowhere.

I’m no local and I’m clearly lost. I must reek of fear.

He shifts aside to show me the kiosk behind him is closed. It looks like it’s been closed a while – possibly months.

I open my mouth to frame a question about directions to Fort Worth that won’t make me sound like a frightened rabbit asking how to get back in the hutch. All at once there’s a commotion in the road behind me – a screech of brakes, a blare of horns and the crash of car doors being flung open. The men around me all stare at something past my shoulder and I’m instantly forgotten. I spin round to see what’s happened and clap a hand to my mouth.

A low black car has pulled up at a crazy angle across the street, blocking both carriageways. As I watch, men leap out and start walking purposefully towards us.

The effect is terrifying. They look mean and professional and they move in formation. And at their head is Darnley, his jaw set, his blazing eyes locked on mine.

The men around me have melted away. Now they’re watching from doorways, edging round corners. Darnley towers over me, his face like thunder.

‘Where is he?’

I stare at him, my mind a blank. ‘Who?’

The flash from his eyes could sear metal. ‘Don’t play games with me. I said to wait. We’d go together. Then you set off on your own. We tailed you. When you tried to shake us off I guessed you must know something we don’t. Mitchell’s here somewhere. You’re going to see him. So where is he? Which building?’

Now I’m getting angry too, spiked by adrenalin. ‘You tailed me? Since when is Ryan your ex? This is my problem, not yours. I want to talk to him alone. Stay out of this. Your beef with him is just business. Mine’s personal. So let me do it my way.’

‘I repeat, where is he?’

‘I don’t know. I’m lost. I was trying to get back to the freeway –’

I break off as he turns and signals to his men. As one they pause.

The street immediately around us is free of traffic now. Cliff Face is waving it on. The kerb is also clear. Curious passers-by have shrunk out of range. Faces peer from windows. The men who confronted me have regrouped across the street. They think it’s a gang thing.

They watch like cheated hyenas as a pack with a prior claim and better suits claims their prey. No one’s picking a fight but now they’re curious, hoping for drama.

Darnley turns back to me, his expression veiled but his manner brisk. ‘OK, you’ll ride with me. One of the men will return your car.’ He takes my arm and propels me towards the dark car, whose engine is revving up and ready for the off.

Some of the men have already piled into the rear seats and the driver’s poised with his hands on the wheel. Darnley pushes me onto the low bench seat alongside his and climbs in next to me, slamming the door shut as he wedges himself thrillingly against me.

Across the street my hire car is already easing into the traffic, one of his men at the wheel. We do a swift half-turn and set off in the opposite direction.

The whole incident took about three minutes.

* * *

Fort Worth seems pleasant and leafy, from what I can see of it. After twenty minutes wedged next to Darnley’s thigh I’m finding it hard to concentrate on the scenery speeding past.

It’s back, the invisible thread that pulled me to him the night we met, that drew me into the spell of his gaze the instant I walked into the hotel pool area. It’s been tugging us closer every second we’re apart. Now, with his men all around us, we’re forced to sit painfully close but forbidden to touch in the way we need to touch. I can feel the heat from his chest, his arm and his thigh burning into me, the coiled power in his muscles tense against my softer body.

He rests one hand loosely in his lap, close to mine, but his other steals round the back of my waist and clutches me to him as we sway slightly at any swerve in the road. His fingers do the talking, pressing into me, his touch thrilling and heady. His heart’s beating steadily somewhere near my arm. Or is it my heart? I can’t tell.

From time to time he mutters a curt instruction to the driver. Finally he leans close to murmur in my ear. At least I think what’s why he leans close, but he breathes deep before he finally whispers, like he’s drinking me in, ‘We’re headed for his hotel, a little way out of town. That was where he said he’d be. Unless you know something different?’

His breath drifts over my skin like a caress, making me shiver.

I glance up and breathe in his aftershave and the light, spicy scent of his skin. ‘That was where I was headed too. I tried to text him but I can’t get a signal.’

‘You mean he’s not been in touch? Show me.’ His lips are so close they almost touch me. His breath on my neck is soothing and seductive but his tone is low and abrupt.

In a daze I hand over my phone.

He flicks through my messages and then hands it back. ‘Here. Keep it switched on. We can track him if he tries to make contact.’

‘Why do you want to see my messages?’ I’m curious. Watching experts always interests me.

‘To see if you’re lying.’

I waste a furious glance at his elegant profile as he looks away. A sudden clench in his cheek warns me he’s still angry.

We ride the rest of the way in silence while his men talk quietly about baseball.

Ryan’s holed up in a sprawling ranch-style complex with distant golf courses and fenced-in rides for horses. There are pennants flying, golf buggies cruising by, and leisurely middle-aged couples in bright Bermuda shorts strolling on the fairways. As we pull up I stake my claim. ‘Let me go in alone. I want to see him first.’

Next to me his thigh stiffens thrillingly. I try to ignore it.

‘We’ll go in together. Let me handle this.’ As he gets out I move to follow. His driver grabs my arm but Darnley glances back as my arm jerks free. ‘It’s OK, she can come too. I’ll keep an eye on her. Wait here.’

The lobby is spacious and friendly. Darnley hangs back while I lean on the counter and try to catch the attention of the neatly suited blonde. She’s staring at Darnley like a stranded goldfish, mouth open.

‘Ryan Mitchell,’ I say for the third time, my voice rising along with my temper. ‘He’s expecting us.’

She tears her glance away from Darnley just long enough to check a screen on the desk in front of her. ‘Mr Mitchell … checked out two hours ago. According to our records he’s no longer on the premises.’

I stare. ‘But there must be some mistake. Maybe he’s waiting in the bar. He asked me to meet him here.’ My heart sinks at this repeat no-show. Dallas? Fort Worth? What’s he playing at?

At this point Darnley steps forward, his voice like granite. ‘Check again.’

The woman looks startled, flushes bright pink and stares obediently at the screen for a moment, her eyes wide. ‘No, sir,’ she stammers, batting her eyelashes. ‘Mr Mitchell’s definitely gone. Can I do anything else for you?’

‘Yes. You can show us our suite.’ He hands over a card. She jumps like a startled deer and glances at me with new respect.

‘Yes, sir. Certainly, sir. Right away.’

Now it’s my turn to stare as I glance back at Darnley. ‘What are you doing?’ I keep my voice to a low hiss but it’s an effort.

‘You have luggage, Mr Wolfe?’

Darnley eyes her calmly across the counter. ‘My men have already prepared the rooms. Just show us where they are.’

Her eyes widen, her swift downward glance at my bare, unmade-up face, plain ponytail and rumpled shorts a simple surprise reflex that someone like me should be travelling with someone as important as this.

I barely notice. A startling fact is hammering into my brain. He’s planned this.

Our rooms are subtly prepared with lamps switched on, beds invitingly turned down and a well-stocked refreshment trolley. They look out over the lawns and distant golf courses.

As the door closes behind him he rounds on me. ‘What the hell’s going on? Why couldn’t you wait? Now we’ve lost him, thanks to you.’

‘It’s not your business, Darnley. Let me do this on my own.’

His eyes blaze. ‘When all you do is take risks? From now on you travel with me. What made you get out of the car in a neighbourhood like that?’

‘A neighbourhood like what, Darnley? Full of poor people? Poor people aren’t dangerous. They’re just poor. We can’t all be millionaires. I just wanted to ask them the way. If you weren’t so keen on playing Good Cop, Bad Cop they’d probably have told me.’

‘Or they could have raped you, hauled you off to some crack den, mugged you and left you for dead. Don’t do that again.’

His rage is making me angry too and I’m saying things I don’t mean. In truth I was badly scared and glad to be rescued but now we’re alone I’m rattled. I want him so badly I ache.

He glares at me, his gaze steady and unsettling. ‘In a quiet, run-down neighbourhood anything could happen. The back streets are a perfect place to stage a drive-by shooting, for instance.’

I frown. ‘A what? That’s crazy. Why would anybody do that?’

His eyes narrow. ‘Let’s just say somebody who wanted to reclaim patents they’d taken out in somebody else’s name that that person knew nothing about, that’s who. For fuck’s sake, Ella, use your head.’

I glare at him. ‘Ryan’s a murderer now? That’s ridiculous.’

He looks away, his jaw rigid. ‘Let’s hope so. Meanwhile you stay close to me. It’s the only way I can keep you safe.’ He glances at me and reads something in my face. Instantly his expression grows troubled. ‘You’re worth money now. Anybody might do anything. From now on you stay with me at all times. Is that clear? And don’t go off-plan. You wasted valuable time today. Has it occurred to you that he might be on the run? That he can’t wait around while you talk to strange men in the street? It’s possible we’re not the only people who want to talk to him.’

He’s got a point. I’m out of my depth here. But I’m still angry and I’m not finished yet. ‘You booked a suite here just to tell me that?’

Mistake.

His eyes narrow to slits and I see a new glint in their depths. ‘No. I booked a suite to teach you a lesson.’

All at once he seizes me round the waist, pulls me to him and crushes his mouth on mine as the low, burning arousal that’s eaten into both of us for the last thirty minutes flares into white heat. I press up close and his tongue makes deep, angry surges into my mouth like it’s shouting without words.

When he pulls away I’m panting too like I’m running a race and I’ve a long way to go. I bite my lip to fight back the urge to laugh from sheer joy. ‘What kind of lesson?’

* * *

Half a minute later I’m staring at him in blank disbelief. ‘You’re going to what?’

His eyes are gleaming. A slow, sinister smile twists the ends of his long mouth. ‘You heard.’

‘I can’t believe I’m hearing this.’ It should be a joke. But something about his stillness and the heat in his look tells me he’s serious.

He wants to spank me? What’s going on here?

And all at once I’m burning up, seeing myself sprawled over his knee, at his mercy, his hands working overtime … I’m a grown-up person. At least I thought I was. But the very thought of him doing something so ridiculously humiliating is turning me to jelly, making me throb with excitement, making me wet. ‘Now?’ My voice has shrunk to a squeak.

His voice drops to a purr. ‘In a while. We have some matters to see to first. First off, you’ll stay close to me until we’re both satisfied your boyfriend’s no longer a threat. Agreed?’

My eyes widen. ‘If he is a threat. I’ve only got your word for that.’

His jaw tightens. ‘Whatever. We track him together. Promise me.’

I swallow, partly from fear, partly from excitement. ‘And staying with you involves what, precisely?’

His eyes flash. ‘What do you think it involves, Ella? You started this. I just want to finish it, one way or another. Are you scared to go on? Say so and we’ll split. I’ll assign you a bodyguard.’

I lick my lips. He’s asking me to take a massive step – but at the same time he’s just made a massive admission.

He wants me. And he wants to try things with me, starting now. With a spanking.

And all at once I know I want this too. I’ve never wanted anything so much in all my life. ‘We’ll go on.’

His face remains grave, but somewhere behind his eyes I sense new heat, like a fire long suppressed that’s just flared into life.

‘Very well.’

‘What do you want me to do?’ I stand very still as he runs a finger down the line of my throat and over the swell of my breast, where my skimpy top makes it bulge.

‘Stay close. Simply that. We’ll travel together, we’ll share rooms, and we’ll tolerate each other as best we can. It’s only for a few days. He’s round here somewhere. He can’t get far.’

Flames spurt deep in my groin as he runs his finger inside the waistband of my shorts, making the skin ripple over my belly. ‘And what if it takes longer?’

He unfastens my shorts and pushes them down a little way and slips both hands inside, his fingers probing deep between my legs and under the lacy trim of my panties. I close my eyes and moan as his thumbs graze the twin slopes of my apex, where the folds are already swelling and super-sensitive. He lingers, sensing my need, his touch so intrusive and insistent I start to throb, parting my lips and closing my eyes, telling him that I want this even more than he does.

I hear his voice lower to a growl, a sure sign he’s noticed.

‘Then it takes longer. Enough questions. Time for your bath.’

CHAPTER SIX

A bath? I accept meekly. Nothing surprises me any more. I’ve agreed to his terms. I’ll go with it for now.

I’ll yell later.

He strolls into the bathroom, starts the taps, tips in various things from bottles, strolls back and inspects our lunch trolley.

I’m too excited to eat but the array of canapés, sandwiches, fruit and drinks looks tasty. Maybe I’ll try some.

Soon he closes off the taps and the suite fills with the warm, moist aroma of the bathwater but he’s in no hurry for me to get in. ‘Eat something. You’ve had a shock.’

He sinks onto the sofa and pats the seat beside him. As I take my place on the cushion next to his I can only think of the ordeal I face.

He’s going to spank me. When? Should I have refused this? How much will it hurt?

He’s surprisingly calm about it. In some mysterious way this makes it even more exciting. As he passes me dainties from the trolley and cracks open a couple of beers our fingers touch, our eyes meet and a smile plays at the corners of his mouth.

I feel colour rising in my cheeks. To distract myself I focus on the reason we came here – my ex. ‘Did you ever meet Ryan? Or is he too far down the pecking order?’

‘I watched him at interview once. Seemed pleasant enough. Struck me as a lightweight. But his work was good, they tell me. Innovative.’

I take a swig of my beer and gasp at its icy cold. His eyes dwell on my throat as I tilt the can. They burn into mine as I lower it.

‘Do that again.’ His voice is barely a murmur.

I feel a tremor run through me as our lunch turns into foreplay. Slowly I raise the can and sip again. ‘Hold it right there.’ I tilt the can down a little so it won’t spill and hold my breath as his fingers run lightly over the skin of my taut throat and then fold around my neck.

Throats are vulnerable, private. Especially so at this angle – and when you react to someone’s touch as violently as I do. I feel myself shudder.

‘What’s the matter, Ella? Are you scared of me?’

I lower the can and look him full in the face. ‘Sometimes.’

He tilts an eyebrow, his smile brief. ‘Only sometimes?’

‘Not when I’m angry.’

‘I noticed. Have you finished eating?’

I nod.

‘Drink your beer.’ His voice is soft, his expression grave.

Heat flares.

He pushes the trolley away, holds out his hand and raises me to my feet. ‘Come. Bath time.’

* * *

In the bathroom I stand in silence, arms outstretched, legs apart, as he slowly undresses me. I feel like a doll. When I try to speak he frowns and touches a finger to my lips. ‘Quiet. We’ll talk later. Let me do this.’

He inspects me as he removes my clothes, first my skimpy top, then the shorts he’s already unfastened. He lets them pool on the floor and then kicks them away impatiently. I resist the urge to pick them up, fold them and put them somewhere they won’t get wet.

He signals me to raise my arms high and then to turn for him, slowly. He takes in every angle of me as I circle. I try not to flinch as he scoops my breasts out of my bra and rests them on the cups, making them bulge a little, and then pulls my panties down so the lacy trim rests just below my hips. He runs his hands repeatedly down my sides, lingering in the dip of my waist and feeling my ribcage with his thumbs. His touch is making me burn. I’m nervous, wondering what he’s going to do.

‘Reach up and hold onto the towel ring on the tiles over your head.’ His voice is remote, its note of command edged with steel.

Warily I reach up and grasp it, feeling instantly exposed as my breasts thrust up towards his face. He smiles and stoops to fasten his mouth on my left breast. I jerk to attention as he sucks at me, his eager tongue swirling round my aureole, his teeth grazing my pebble-hard nipple with tiny nips that both scare and inflame me.

After a while he transfers to the other breast and I jerk again. This breast knows what’s coming so my nipple is that much harder, the burning feeling that much hotter. I moan aloud and writhe in his embrace.

His lips loosen around his generous mouthful of breast. I whimper as his fingers squeeze my other nipple and pinch hard, sending flames shooting all through my groin.

‘Quiet. And keep still or I’ll have to restrain you.’

‘Do I get a say in this?’

He leans up, his gaze hard. ‘Soon. Be quiet and keep still. Or you’ll be sorry.’

I arch an eyebrow, playful now. ‘Oh? How?’

He stands upright and folds his hands round both of my breasts, his grasp gentle, warm and deeply arousing. In his grip they feel enormous, resilient, like his touch alone is making them swell. My nipples tense instantly, the ache squeezing my aureoles tight around them, making them stiffen and grow numb.

‘How? Well, your spanking might be harsher and last longer than it would have just now, let’s say.’

Deep between my legs something begins to throb. It was pulsing before, but now it’s positively painful. He’s not playing. Something about his manner tells me that for him this is deadly serious and I’ve just agreed to it and accepted his terms, whatever they are …

Ye gods …

‘Are you going to hurt me?’ I try to sound calm. I must know the worst.

He looks interested. ‘Not if I can help it. Why? Do you want me to?’

I stare. ‘Absolutely not. But I’m new to this. I don’t know what’s involved.’

He frowns like he’s puzzled and draws me into his arms. ‘Hey, you’re shivering. Just trust me. Can you do that?’

I swallow. This is all so unexpected. In reply I simply kiss him on the jaw.

He frowns down at me, troubled. ‘Do I take that as a yes?’

‘It’s just …’ I tail off as I search for words.

‘Hey. Your bath’s getting cold.’

I grin. ‘In Texas? In summer? It’s just this. If you’re doing this because you like it then fine, I’ll try it. But if this is some kind of punishment then you can forget it. I’m not accountable to you.’

He touches his lips to mine, his gaze stern. ‘You’re setting terms?’

I hold his gaze. ‘Yes. I guess I am. Isn’t that what’s supposed to happen?’

He raises my hand to his lips and kisses my fingers. It’s just a light brush of his lips across my knuckles but I sense a climb-down.

‘Fair enough. Let’s just say I like it. We’ll take it slow.’ He kisses me on the mouth, his tongue urgent and hungry, and pulls away with an effort. I can sense his excitement. I can even feel his heartbeat. I’m curious. Why does he find this so moving?

‘Now the bath. And no more talking. I’ll tell you when. Strip.’

Slowly I take off my bra and then my lace-edged panties and toss them through the door into the dry safety of the other room. At his stern look I step into the bath. I sink gratefully into the water and he stands over me, peeling away his own clothes as I drink in the view – first his sturdy chest and shoulders, his narrow waist, and the light coating of dark hair that clusters where it matters and thins where it should, snaking a trail past his navel.

Where it reaches appears next as he unfastens his trousers and kicks them away, and finally removes his boxers.

I gasp as his stiffening erection looms into view, plump and swollen, its thick curve echoing the swollen, tight feeling down between my legs where I’ve been pulsing steadily since we walked in here. He holds my eyes calmly. The arrogant flare to his nostrils tells me he enjoys my steady gaze and feels no need to hurry.

As he slips in beside me he leans along me, running his hand over me, slippery now in the foam, and watches my nipples jut and swell as his fingers encounter them. ‘Open your legs. Put your feet on the sides.’

His hand slips between my thighs and cups my sex, his fingers questing deep into me, searching, sliding in and out, teasing me with the suds. He fastens his mouth on mine, suppressing my moans with his busy, invading tongue.

This is beyond arousing. The warmth of the water and the insistent pressure of his fingers are having an electric effect on me, making my thighs ache as I grip the edges of the bath with my feet. I moan and he seizes my shoulders as he eases his hand away and pulls away from my lips, tasting gently. ‘Hey, easy. There’s plenty of time. Now me.’

I start to massage him, smearing suds into the powerful landscape of his chest and thrilling to the ripple of the muscles below. He watches lazily as I explore him in turn, teasing his hard little nipples into nubs and making him twitch. I ease down towards his shaft where it leaps and jolts above the water, and curve over to lick gently at the broad, distended head.

He pulls me back and puts a foamy finger to my lips. ‘Hey. Not yet. Keep washing.’

Obediently I run my hand down his hard, muscular abdomen and slide my fingers deep into his hair, reaching deep to soap and fondle him and then slip further back, between his legs. I feel his thighs tense along mine as I ease in deep, sliding in the slippery gel-laden foam like he did with me, and he captures my mouth again.

When he pulls back his face is stern. ‘Enough. We’ll get out now. We have things to do.’

He surges smoothly out of the water like Neptune in all his glory, knots a towel at his hips and then raises me up, scoops another towel round me and pats me dry all over. I’m sleepy after my scary morning, all soft and clean and ready for sex.

More than ready.

But sex is not on offer, I remember with a snap. We have things to do.

Still swathed in our towels he leads me into the bedroom – or rather one of them – and sits on the bed. ‘Now for your spanking. You know why I’m doing this?’

‘Because you like it?’

His eyes glitter as he hauls me over his lap, pushes my head down onto the quilt at one side of him and starts to arrange my legs on the other. ‘Try again.’