Riding Steele #1 (4 page)

The fact he knew her name told her they hadn't kidnapped her randomly. She'd been targeted for some reason. She remembered his earlier words about a plan. It sounded like they'd planned to kidnap her, then changed their minds.

“Look, I don't know who you are or why you're trying to get me to trust you, but that's not going to happen. All I want is for you to let me go.”

“Your brother's name is Craig.”

She narrowed her eyes. Were they after ransom? If so, they would have researched her family connections to know who to send the ransom request to.

“Look, if you're trying to get ransom from Craig, you need to understand that he doesn't have a lot of money.”

“I know that. I'm not after ransom money.”

If he had discovered Craig wasn't rich, that could be why they had rejected her as a victim.

But Donovan was a wealthy man and everyone knew it. Were they planning on approaching him for money?

Her blood turned cold. He would pay it. She wanted to be free of the man, but this would put her in his debt.

After the vicious way he'd treated her tonight, she actually wondered if he might have set this up as some sick kind of control thing. To make her totally aware of how much power he had over her. Maybe he would even show up and play out some scenarios his sick mind might entertain. Like watching these bikers gang bang her, just like he'd suggested in the parking garage.

Her mind was raging with wild notions, and maybe that's all they were. All she knew for sure was she couldn't trust anything these men told her.

The big man beside her sighed deeply. “I see I'm not going to get anywhere with this tonight.”

He leaned toward her and she cringed away, but he simply grabbed the covers and pulled them over her, then lay back in bed.

“I'm going to sleep. I suggest you do the same.”

Then he rolled over and turned out the light.

Not that he fell asleep soon. He could sense the woman quivering on the other side of the bed. He wanted to console her and assure her everything would be all right, but there was nothing he could do right now that would make her trust him. Trust was only achieved by actions, and the only actions she had seen by him and his man Wild Card was to be torn away from her friends and family and brought to this isolated cabin. And her bad-news boyfriend, but that only made it worse. Being taken from one situation where she was totally helpless, to another, didn't inspire confidence.

In the morning, he'd sort this out somehow. He could roll over right now and promise he'd take her home tomorrow, but he was a man of his word and had learned better than to make promises until he knew the whole situation and what the consequences would be. Wild Card had kidnapped her. She could lay charges and have them all arrested. He'd like to contact Killer, and her brother, to see if they could sort this out without that kind of complication. Also, he didn't want to just return her to a situation where she would be in danger from her boyfriend. Hopefully, she was smart enough to consider him her ex-boyfriend by now, because the things Wild Card told him the guy had said and done tonight showed that he would have no qualms about brutalizing her. And the man obviously had means, so that meant he'd be more likely to get away with it.

What a fucking lousy way to end his birthday.

*  *  *

Steele opened his eyes and glanced around. A warm, female body was snuggled up against him, his arm around her. Her chestnut hair tickled his nose and he breathed in the sweet scent of it. Lily of the Valley. He lay still, enjoying the sensation of her soft, feminine curves pressed tight to him.

Maybe too much because his cock began to swell.

She murmured in her sleep and shifted against him, her hand gliding along his torso. It brushed his cock, which was now semierect. At the feel of her hand brushing against it, it jerked to full attention.

He knew the instant she woke up. Her whole body stiffened. Then her hand jerked away from his member and her eyelids popped open. She stared at him with accusing blue eyes. Big, beautiful blue eyes with a dark rim around the pupil, and a scattering of golden specs, which probably glittered like sparks when she was angry.

She pushed herself away from him and skittered backward to the edge of the bed. The clank of the chain reminded him she was still handcuffed to the headboard.

“Good morning,” he said, but she merely glared at him.

He sighed and sat up, then pushed back the covers. He was sure the sight of his big hard-on did not inspire confidence in her, but there was nothing he could do about that. It was what it was.

He stood up and walked to the private bathroom connected to the room and took a quick shower, conscious of leaving the woman alone and handcuffed to the bed. He returned and grabbed clean underwear from his drawer and pulled them on, then retrieved his jeans. Wild Card had left the key to the handcuffs on the dresser, so he picked it up and approached the bed.

When she saw him coming, she cowered under the covers.

“You slept in my bed last night, me naked, and I didn't touch you. Why do you think I would now?”

*  *  *

Laurie watched him warily as he wrapped his big hand around her wrist and unlocked the cuff around it.

“Because you were tired last night?” she suggested as she rubbed the red mark around her wrist.

He chuckled. “Sweetheart, I'm never too tired to fuck.”

His words sent a tremor through her. She believed him. And the fact that he hadn't touched her made her feel that she wasn't in danger that way from him.

“There's a bathroom right there. You can shower and whatever. And just in case you're going to try something foolish like climbing out the window, I'll have someone watching from outside.” He smiled. “I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself falling from the second story.”

The room they were in was rustic, the walls showing the raw logs that made up the structure. The heavy wood furnishings matched the color and feel of the logs. It was very much a man's room, sparse and functional, but with a comforting appeal, Modern amenities, such as a large, flat-screen TV and Blu-ray player, blended into the décor in an artistic balance of clean lines and rough-hewn furnishings. The bed was big and comfortable with a cushioned bench at the foot, and a big, cozy armchair stood off to the side.

The whole house probably had the whole outdoorsy male feel.

She stood up, tugging on the hem of the stupid short dress.

“I just have to ask,” he said as he watched her with a grin. “Why wear a dress like that if you're so uncomfortable in it?”

She pursed her lips. She didn't want to admit to him that she'd worn it because Donovan had insisted. She still didn't understand why she had fallen into line with Donovan's controlling demands. What did that say about her as a strong, independent woman? How had she let that happen?

So she ignored his question and marched to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. The doorknob was black wrought iron, and the door closed with a satisfying thunk. She turned the lock.

It was steamy in the room, and smelled all musky and masculine. It must be the soap Steele used because it smelled just like him.

She glanced around at the surprisingly large bathroom, with a big, deep, old-fashioned soaker tub, a large glassed-in shower stall along the end wall, and a window overlooking the lake on one side and the dense trees surrounding the cabin on the other. She could easily pull open the window and climb out, but Steele had cautioned her he would have people watching. She frowned. She didn't relish climbing down from the second story anyway and she definitely wouldn't get far barefoot.

A fluffy white bath towel was folded neatly on a shelf over the toilet. Another one was thrown haphazardly over the edge of the tub, still damp, probably the one Steele had used to dry off his big, muscular,
naked
body.

The scent of him filled her nostrils, and the memory of waking up snuggled close to the big man, his arm around her, jolted through her. At first, she had felt warm and protected. Then she'd realized her wrist was pressed against his hard, hot cock and she'd jerked away.

But that initial feeling … that feeling deep in her gut … that she was safe in his arms … That really threw her.

It was probably because she was looking for a safe haven in a storm. Steele wasn't the one who'd kidnapped her. And he hadn't touched her last night, even though he'd assured her this morning, he was
never too tired
to fuck.

But she couldn't trust him. Any more than she could trust Donovan.

Everything that had happened last night suddenly hit her full throttle. Even before the crazy biker had kidnapped her. The way Donovan had treated her. If Wild Card hadn't shown up when he had, Donovan would have taken her against that post. Against her will.

She sank to the floor, curling into a ball on the large, fluffy mat that filled the center of the room as her throat closed up. He would have
raped
her.

Tears flooded from her eyes as she realized she had let herself get sucked into an abusive relationship. One where she had given up control to a ruthless, violent man.

How had she let that happen?

Oh, God, she'd been an idiot. Craig had cautioned her to be wary of Donovan, but he was her brother … and an overprotective one at that. She hadn't heeded his warnings. She'd been so headstrong and sure of herself. And Donovan had been so charming … at first.

He'd known exactly how to gain her confidence. And how to keep her under his thumb. She'd graduated from university five years ago with a communications degree, but with the job market the way it was, all she'd been able to get were service jobs. She'd been a barista for a while, then moved on to retail, but it was part-time work with lousy schedules. And lousy pay.

Once she and Donovan started dating, Donovan had gotten her a job in the local office of one of his companies working in the marketing department. The job gave her the stability she so craved and the income to finally buy her own home. Donovan had even arranged a great deal on a brand new town house for her.

When he'd started controlling her, she'd turned a blind eye. Deep inside, she worried that if she broke up with him, it could put her job in danger, and without the job, she couldn't afford her mortgage.

He'd started with mild demands at first, then bigger ones. He'd cajoled her into letting him command her in the bedroom, even binding her sometimes. At first it had been sexy, submitting to a strong, dominating man, but he didn't always satisfy her, and had started doing things she wasn't really comfortable with.

Then when he'd wrapped his hands around her throat and choked her while he took his pleasure, she had realized she had to get out. Never would she have believed he would be capable of the things he'd said and done in the parking garage.

She realized she was trembling all over and a sob escaped her throat. She hugged her knees tighter to her body as she gave herself over to blind emotion, allowing the tears to flow.

A sharp knocking sounded at the door. “You all right in there?” Steele said through the door.

“Don't come in,” she pleaded. The door was locked, but she didn't for a minute think that he couldn't get in here if he wanted. And she didn't want him to see her like this. Whimpering and vulnerable. She scrambled to her feet.

“I won't. Just take your shower, then I'll get you something to eat.”

“Okay,” she said, and listened for the sound of his footsteps as he walked away from the door. Once she was sure he was gone, she stripped off her clothes quickly and stepped into the shower stall. The musky scent of Steele was even stronger in the small space and she breathed it in as she turned on the water.

In spite of herself, she found something about his scent deeply comforting. She let out a breath, breathed him in again, and felt her muscles begin to relax. She soaped her body and scrubbed hard.

She knew her response to Steele was stupid, that she was just looking for someone to watch over her, and he was a big, strong, powerful leader, a perfect man to protect her. But she needed to do that for herself. Depending on anyone else was a mistake she didn't intend to make again.

She washed her hair, then rinsed herself off and stepped from the stall. She grabbed the clean towel over the toilet and vigorously rubbed her hair. She dried her body, too, then slipped on her panties and bra. Her gaze fell to the tiny black dress lying on the floor. She did not want to put that thing back on.

She grabbed the big towel that Steele must have used after his shower and wrapped it around herself. It covered way more of her than the dress did.

Maybe she could ask Steele for some other clothes. One of his shirts. His jeans would be too big, but maybe he'd have something. Anything would be better than that revealing, skintight dress.

She turned the lock and opened the door, then stepped into the bedroom.

*  *  *

Steele glanced up as the bathroom door opened. He wasn't prepared for the sight of her all wrapped up in a towel, her hair damp and falling loosely over her shoulders. Unlike the polished party girl she'd seemed in the little black dress, now she looked all soft and vulnerable.

And sexy.

He couldn't help thinking about the fact she was naked under that towel.

He couldn't help thinking about unwrapping that towel to reveal her soft, round breasts.

“I … uh … wanted to know if you had something I could wear.”

His eyebrow arched. “You don't like your dress?”

As soon as his gaze settled on her face, and her red puffy eyes, he realized she'd been crying. Protective urges raced through him. He wanted to fold her in his arms and hold her. To assure her everything would be all right.

“It's a little dressy for the whole kidnappee-hanging-around-the-log-cabin scenario, don't you think?” she said lightly.