Capture

He rests his forehead against mine and lowers his voice to a velvety murmur. ‘I make statements in public. I take my pleasures in private.’ His breathing’s unsteady now, as his eyes burn into mine. ‘Open your legs.’

He pins my hands high up on the wall with one hand while he rearranges my jeans with the other, tearing at my zip and pushing roughly at my denim so he can reach into my thighs. His hand’s firm and hot, his intention plain.

Deep down inside me fury still simmers. All it does is make everything more vivid. I thrust towards him eagerly, desperate now after all the teasing.

But he pauses, his eyes troubled, like he needs permission. And all at once I get it: he is asking permission.

Something in his expression tells me he knows he’s gone too far. He sees his weird alpha-male thing in my boat has upset me. He’s sorry. And waiting for permission at a moment as raw and urgent as this is how he says so.

My heart melts. For a second I press my cheek against his in a kind of soft, unspoken act of consent.

With a sharp sigh of relief he surges up inside me in a single thrust, a slick ramrod of power that almost jerks me off my feet. It’s like his rage is gathered in his loins, focused in his cock, propelling into me like a torpedo. He pulls away slowly and rams again, his gaze pinning me to the wall as surely as the pounding weight of his lithe, muscular body and the tight grip of his hand.

And now my arousal surges to match as I strain closer to meet him, thrust for thrust. I have territory too … softer than his, maybe, and quietly swollen with waves of desire from my gentler rush of emotions, but just as insistent and just as needy.

His eyes glitter as he draws closer to his finish. It’s part in triumph but partly something new. I can almost feel the pain of delay as he slows inside me, impaling me, holding off for agonising seconds but poised on the brink. It’s another statement of power, another tiny assertion of discipline, that he can make it last, make me beg …

‘How can you do this? Hold off like this?’ I’m breathless, longing for him to finish so I can catch him up. I’m only seconds away, my pressure building, everything deep down poised and aching for his next merciful invasion …

My climax hovers like coming thunder while he holds off the moment, still determined to pay me out. ‘Is this a punishment? It’s unnatural.’

He watches with a gleam as I wince and push against him, willing him in. I was enjoying that … He knows I’m close. I don’t have to tell hm. If I can feel his heat, he sure as heck can feel mine. It must glow all around him, burn in my pleading gaze, ripple through my soft muscles where they’re still drawing him in, craving release.

‘Discipline,’ he says quietly. ‘That’s how. Time you learned some.’

I stare at him, my pleasure peaking now. Any moment …

‘You mean –?’

His slow smile answers my question. My heart sinks.

What was I thinking? Why remind him of all that now? I see a sudden image of him towering over me, bronzed and oiled, his eyes burning into mine as I kneel before him, waiting patiently for him to do things I never knew people did.

Things I never knew people enjoyed.

The image is so powerful I stare up at him bewildered as he surges into me again in a final triumphant thrust that brings him to fruition and sends me careering over some edge that turns out to be far higher than I thought it was and now I’m falling, flailing, afloat on a sea of pleasure …

His low snarl jerks me back to reality.

‘Yes, discipline. Restraints. That’s exactly what I mean.’

CHAPTER FOUR

‘So find out. I want the names of everybody who can swim and anybody who was off-site this morning. And I want them yesterday. Got that?’

Darnley’s voice is low and fierce. He’s making calls while we change for lunch. While I’m in the en-suite he speaks fast. As I walk back out he’s already sliding the phone into his pocket.

So he does think we had a snooper. I swallow. What else goes on around here? Or is he still rattled about this morning? Maybe he’s not used to me making a stand. Something about that cut him deep.

Lunch is light and tasty, small portions of chowder with crusty bread and fresh butter from a local farm, followed by peaches. He says little, but watches me throughout. When I drain the last of my zingy local wine he gets up and holds out his hand.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Where do you think? We’ve things to discuss.’

I bite back a grin as he leads me into the bedroom and pulls me down beside him, his eyes dark with need. At a faint movement in his jeans I feel a surge of heat so explicit I wonder if he can sense it. The gleam in his eyes hints that maybe he does. He peels up my thin sweater and nuzzles deep in my breasts as he hauls me up to lie over him.

‘Have you thought about what I asked you to do here? Or did that stuff this morning change your mind?’

With an effort I drag myself back to the main reason I’m here.

We’re here for a few weeks on a kind of working vacation. He’s supervising the launch of his training facility here on the West Coast while he waits for the results of his international deals to get shareholder or government approvals. After that he’ll have an international workload and I’ll be at work here, doing some specialised teaching – literacy, mainly. But till then he’s all mine.

And while I’m here I’m not just arm candy. What he was trying to tell me this morning I already knew – that the recruits are handpicked for special security ops.

The idea is that young people, some troubled, all unusual, are referred here from the military, secret services, special schools, even remand centres for short, intensive courses in security work. It means they get a boost to their confidence and maybe a new start. The work is risky but he’s got a lot of agencies on board –including the Principal at my specialist academy in Boston.

And with his special brand of Darnley magic he’s even arranged for me to come out here and help. But the final decision rests with me. I’ve still not said I’ll do it for certain.

I grin. ‘The work sounds great, just what I like. Plus I’ll be living here, with you. Seriously tempting. But –’

He runs his hand over my flank, making me shiver as his fingers search out the swelling mound of my rump, exposed and quivering where I straddle his hips.

‘But?’

I narrow my eyes. ‘It might have been easier without being turned into a public porno.’ He fondles me from behind, his fingers exploring and insistent. I shudder as I lean back into his touch and at the same time try to balance.

‘So?’ He’s grinning, enjoying my fight to focus while he’s tormenting me from the rear. ‘You’ve still not answered the question.’

‘If I’m joining the team?’ I say sweetly. ‘I’ll let you know when I’ve looked round.’

In fact I’d give my right arm to be here and his sardonic grin warns me he’s guessed. But something in his look makes me shiver – and even more determined to hold out.

‘Be my guest,’ he says softly. ‘Better start looking now.’

My inspection starts with his broad chest, his skin salty on my tongue as I lick eagerly around his tight little nipples and pretend to pin him down by leaning hard on his biceps, well aware that at the least flex of them he’d overpower me utterly. And the longer we stay and play, the longer before I have to face the curious stares of my new students, who’ll just love having a skinny-dipping teacher who frolics in boats …

Truth to tell, working this close to my fiancé may be tricky. His temper’s uncertain, to say the least. And if he’s as hard to please at work as he is in bed I’ll have my work cut out.

Now his dark look sends tremors through me as I make my way slowly down the hills and valleys of his chest-scape. I can sense his impatience as I swiftly unfasten his jeans and free him for inspection.

His breathing speeds up as I close in on his eager, jutting manhood, now only inches from my lips. I can feel the warmth from his thighs, where his business centre lurks in its dark mat of springy hair, eager for attention, even more eager when I start to give it some.

Down here he’s newly clean and vividly rampant. The light, elusive scent of his shower gel mingles with the dark Darnley-aroma of his crotch. It works havoc on my heightened senses. For some reason the light, teasing touches of my lips and my tongue inflame him even faster than usual. With a low growl he soon takes control and kneels up over me, his thighs like carved columns at either side of my face.

‘Take it deep. All the way.’

Whoa. Where did this come from? I do it quickly, my mind racing. He had a shock last night – right after the scrawled graffiti greeted our arrival. And then there was that business in the boat … Is this some kind of delayed reaction?

I take him deep, eager to please, gulping the last couple of inches to tease him with my clutching throat, but this angle is awkward. His remote, faintly amused gaze warns me my struggle turns him on, so I persist, biting back my protest, making sure he can see me strain.

Whatever he wants. I gasp air when I can as he starts to slide in and out of my eager mouth and I yawn my throat open to receive him, to please him …

Is this helping? Will it soothe him? Is this what keeps him sane? Or is it simply taking control that grants him peace? And why is he so casual about that face I saw? I’m still shaky over it. Since when did seaweed wear goggles?

What is it he’s not telling me?

As he eases me away from his cock and throws himself back down on the covers, it hits me all at once that maybe I’m missing a trick here. He’s mad as hell.

This is a family with secrets. And out here Darnley’s got secrets too.

And maybe one of them is he’s scared for me.

He leans up and kisses me on the mouth, his lips light but his gaze hot. ‘Sunny side up? Or sunny side down?’

He’s grinning now, calm and relaxed, and all at once it’s me who’s tense. I raise myself up and gaze down at him. ‘Are you OK about these – hitches? The paint, that face? I know you said to expect weird things – but how weird were they? Tell me.’

He frowns. ‘Why?’

I swallow. ‘It’s just – you should tell me when you worry about things.’

He tips me off and rolls over on top of me, his erection jutting into my belly, hot and hard, still close. I feel a faint throb in response as he moves gently against me, pressing me cruelly close to my peak.

‘I’d sooner not. Not when what I worry about is you.’

He fastens on my mouth for a long, hot kiss and then shifts into position with our mouths still fused together. When he releases my lips he rests on his hands and slides right up inside, each thrust of his loins a jolt of possession, a statement of love. My mind empties of everything but his power and his heat as he rams into me, filling me up, over and over, the dark gleam in his eyes pinning me down as effectively as his muscled forearms, his tight grip and his fierce hunger.

This time we come almost at the same moment, me tipping over the edge just seconds before he does. Maybe my spasms fire his climax – maybe it’s simply the ecstatic moan of pleasure that escapes me as he jolts me into my final bliss. Our embrace fuses us together for long seconds.

We finally stretch out to relax, then I twine around him and nestle in the crook of his arm. I’ll keep my questions for later. This close, I sense he’s still keeping something back.

The glint in his eyes is a warning. Something’s not going to plan. And I’ve an uneasy feeling that it’s somehow linked to me.

* * *

At last we set off for the complex. We cross the highway and drive towards the foothills in Darnley’s flashy new convertible. With the wind in our hair and an open road it makes a welcome change from the cushioned privacy of his limo. Without his driver we feel reckless, like kids.

On the way he fills me in on some of the detail about his new venture, his hand straying constantly from the steering wheel to stroke my thigh.

I try to focus as he does this, but it’s an effort.

‘There’s renovation work still going on. The new intake’s on short, intensive courses, just to give them a taster, a feel for the conditions some of their future employers may expect.’

He slows to steer round a motorcycle and then eyes it in the rear-view mirror. ‘And some of the recruits are – well, you’ll see when you meet them. They come from different backgrounds, shall we say.’

‘Like ours at the Academy?’

He grins briefly and then squeezes my thigh. ‘That’s partly why I want you on board. You’re brilliant with difficult kids. Your Principal thinks so, anyway.’

I roll my eyes. ‘He never said. Maybe if he had I’d have stayed in Boston.’

He squeezes my thigh again. ‘Do I detect mutiny in my troops? This may need a touch of discipline.’

A spike of alarm brings with it a stab of arousal so acute I ache. ‘Maybe we should talk about this another time.’ I try for carefree, but it comes out husky.

He laughs and lowers his voice. ‘It’s a date.’

The complex is being set up in a former sports and leisure facility. It’s being extensively refurbished. Workmen are everywhere.

The site seems huge. It’s mostly bushes and scrub but here and there it’s dotted with cactus and yucca. I can hear shouting from one of the fields like there’s football going on somewhere.

I make out a golf course and a shooting range. Cabins and outbuildings cluster round a half-emptied pool. Sports fields seem to stretch all around us. As we cruise along the freshly paved driveway up to the low ranch-like building at its hub I learn that the site was too far off the highway to turn a profit.

‘The caterers tried to keep up hotel standards. Got too costly to run so they had to sell. But the isolation makes it perfect for this. Ah, here she is. My temporary manager and our guide for today.’ He eases the powerful car to a purring halt and glances at me with a sardonic grin. ‘But I was forgetting. You two already met.’

I feel myself stiffen. Walking towards us I see my new manager. And that sour look on her face tells me she’s just as thrilled to see me. Freda.

‘Hi there, we meet again. Enjoy your dip? We all did.’

My heart sinks. So she still dislikes me.

‘Hi.’ I smile politely, ignoring the rest.

To my surprise her face softens. ‘Saw a whole new you out there, Ella. I’d no idea you had it in you.’ She gives a short bark of laughter. ‘I mean, I can guess it’s in you pretty much most of the time, but still –’

‘Enough.’ Darnley’s scowl cuts her off.

She grins. ‘Lighten up, cousin. We’re in the fun state now. Let me show you both around.’

She walks on ahead, her boot heels clicking on the new wooden floors. We look into various rooms as we pass. Recruits, some working on equipment, some peering at whiteboards, glance up as she glares in at their instructors and waits just long enough to disrupt the teaching before moving on.

It’s an unpleasant display of power. Weirdly, it seems to be aimed at me. Darnley pays little attention. He’s busy murmuring into his phone.

She’ll be a nightmare to work for, I think. I vow to tackle him about some aspects of my stay here.

I slip away now and then and talk to some of the new recruits, guessing some of them will be my pupils too. While Darnley takes his cousin aside to ask her how things are going I sidle up to one group after another and say hi.

It’s worse than I thought.

‘Wow. You mean you’re …’

‘Hey, you guys, guess who this is?’

‘You mean you’re gonna teach here? Phew …’

All too aware what this is really about, I steel myself to laugh it off.

Inside I’m seething. How could he do this?

‘Hey. You making friends already? Time to go.’

The recruits take a step back as Darnley touches my arm. They quickly turn back to their task – in this case, something on laptops. They’re working on a new ID system. The best one may be developed at Wolfe Security HQ.

When I mentioned surfing I learned that none of them here actually swims. So who was it under my boat this morning?

Now I turn to my fiancé with a calm smile. ‘Sure. Right away. Bye, you guys.’ I’m rewarded with a few covert glances and a couple of knowing smiles.

Freda eyes me calmly. ‘You off, then? Cool. Have fun in your new boat. We’ll look forward to it.’

Her earthy chuckle follows us out into the sunshine as we head for the car. Out of earshot I shake my arm free of Darnley’s grip.

‘How could you do that? That was the most excruciating half-hour of my life. After a stunt like that you seriously expect me to teach these people?’

‘Calm down.’ His eyes snap. ‘Wait till we’re on the road. They’ll hear you.’

‘They’ve seen me. That’s bad enough.’

His face softens. ‘Hey, chill. They like you. Here, you drive.’

He throws the keys at me. Miraculously I catch them.

With a snort I take the driver’s seat, peer at the controls and then gulp. ‘What? Me drive this?’

He’s eyeing me from the passenger seat, his arms folded. ‘You heard.’

My heart sinks as I fire the engine and take a swift check on where the controls are. It takes me a while to adjust to new cars, and this is a powerful V8 engine, gleaming new.

His sarcastic grin sparks my temper and soon we’re heading out of the driveway and back on the road to the coast. I try to keep up my protest but it’s hard, with the sight of cactus lining the road, hot sunshine on my back and the glorious Pacific wind blowing back my hair. The feel of the powerful engine at my feet and the light, twitchy steering wheel, responsive as a lover, does the rest.

Soon I relax and let the powerful engine sing to me as I take it up through the gears and lean on the gas.

‘Hey, slow down. You’re speeding. We don’t want to get pulled over.’

I laugh, high now on power and wind and speed. ‘Who’s going to pull us over? There’s nobody for miles.’

I rest my hand on his thigh, thrilling to the hard muscles I feel as I give him a squeeze. Quid pro quo. He was doing it to me, all the time we drove over here …

‘Keep your eyes on the road.’

His angry snap sends a little ripple of desire through me that mingles with the light and the speed and makes me laugh. But as I check in the rear-view mirror my knuckles stiffen on the steering wheel.

Shit. In the distance I can see a motorcycle. It’s bearing down fast, like it wants to catch us up. Someone’s spotted us so soon?

I almost jerk the car as I stand on the brake to slow us down to the state limit. Now the bike is closing in. It’s almost on us …

‘Pull over. He wants to pass.’ Darnley’s shout scares me so much I jump.

The steering jolts us dangerously close to the roaring machine, barely a foot away from my door as it starts to overtake. A furious blast from his horn makes me jump again and we ricochet, the sensitive steering over-reacting as the tires hit the loose stones along the edge of the dusty road.

And now I see something else – this is no state trooper. He’s clad head to foot in black leather and he’s wearing goggles. Worse, he looks mad. He thought I did that on purpose.

I lean over the lowered window to grin an apology and I see he’s peering at me with a broad grin, his teeth firm and white, and he’s leaning out towards me.

At that moment there’s a ghastly scraping noise and an angry yell from Darnley. ‘Pull over, dammit. He’s crunching into you. And for fuck’s sake slow down.’

Panic had jammed my foot on the gas. Now I ease it off, but I’ve lost control of our balance. All at once we’re all over the place and we veer dangerously close to the side of the road.

With a terrifying jolt the tires lose their grip and we career off the road and head into the scrubby landscape lining our route to the highway.

CHAPTER FIVE

After a few terrifying bumps and jolts we halt in a clump of bushes.

Behind us the motorcycle roars off into the distance, its rider yelling with laughter and hooting his twin klaxon in triumph.

I lean over the steering wheel, panting, my hands still locked on it. I can feel sweat trickle down my back.

‘You OK?’ Darnley’s low voice stirs me to a shudder.

‘Sure,’ I say, hoping I’ll sound less squeaky when I’ve breathed in a few times. ‘Here. You drive.’ I snatch the keys out of the ignition and dangle them.

He takes no notice.

I stay where I am, still panting, as he gets out of the passenger seat and comes round to inspect the damage. He regards it in silence for a moment and then looks back at the road, his nostrils flaring. ‘He made a mess of the door. OK, we better go back. Start the car and reverse out.’

I stare at him in panic as he takes a few steps back. ‘Wait. Aren’t you driving?’

‘Nope. You are.’

‘I can’t.’ I lick my lips.

He leans over the door and puts his hand around the back of my neck, folding his fingers lovingly so that his thumb grazes the tip of my ear. ‘You must, Ella. If you don’t you’ll be too scared for months. Just do it. Take it slow. You’ll be fine.’

His tone and his look are so gentle, and the kiss he drops on my damp, clammy forehead so hot, that I take a deep breath and turn the key.

‘OK. But don’t blame me if we get lost.’

We almost do as I finally edge out of the clump of bushes. Still on autopilot I make for the lane we were on before.

‘Turn left. Back to the complex.’ His sharp command makes me wrench the wheel.

Rattled, I spin the wheel in the other direction. ‘Why?’

‘You’ll see.’ His mouth settles into a grim line.

He phones ahead. When we finally pull up a reception committee is waiting for us. Darnley instantly leaps over the side of the car and strides up to them. ‘Show us the transport hangar. We missed it before. Now.’

He glances back at me, his look angry. ‘Ella, get your ass over here.’

I gather my doting fiancé wants me to join him. As I do so he grips my arm but his anger’s focused on Freda.

‘Which of your machines just came back in?’

To my intense satisfaction she actually looks scared. ‘What? None of them. Why?’

I swear she’s changed colour. In answer he strides off towards a long, low shed we’d missed on the tour. I’d thought it was empty but as we walk inside I see it’s full of machinery – motorcycles. Two gleaming rows of them are lined up in the pale, dust-filled space where the afternoon sun slants in through the skylight. There must be around thirty machines here, some of them large and very powerful.

As we walk in a pale-faced mechanic walks towards us, wiping his hands on an oily rag. He’s stocky, his dark hair limp and greasy. His mouth slumps badly at one side. ‘Sumpn’ up, y’all?’

Freda glances at me. ‘This is Chet Newson, our mechanic.’ She strides forward and he shrinks back, instantly cowed. ‘Any of the bikes been out today?’

‘Nossir. None of’em. I bin workin’ here since breakfast. Sir. I mean, ma’am.’

Darnley glances at me. ‘Feel the motors. See if one of them’s hot. I’ll take the row on the left. You take the right.’

I do it, marvelling at the massed power in here. The machines are all gleaming BMWs or Harley-Davidsons, shiny-new and arranged in order of size. The little mechanic clearly takes pride in his work.

They’re all cold.

Freda stays near the door, pinning the mechanic with her steely gaze. ‘Chet? Are you sure about that?’

He mumbles a reply and she continues to question him, her voice low. When we rejoin her he seems close to tears.