Den of Desire (17 page)

Authors: Shauna Hart

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Romantic, #Romance, #Contemporary

Dan glanced at James. “Look, old man, I really don't want to have to hurt you. Why don't you just walk away and pretend that none of this ever happened?”

When James didn't relax his defensive stance, Dan held the knife up, cleaning the blood off with two fingers.

Her gaze flickered back and forth between the two of them.

At that moment, she knew only one thing.

She would not let anything happen to James if she could stop it. She threw herself at Dan, struggling with him as she attempted to grab for the knife. The back of his hand connected with her cheek, the impact throwing her back against the wall, her vision of James blocked by Dan's menacing figure. In a rage, he raised the knife high, and she knew that the fight was over.

A gunshot pierced the stillness of the hall.

Dan looked down at her, his surprise evident. He reached down to touch the hole in his chest, his eyes wide. When he pulled his hand back, his fingers were red. His eyes narrowed as they met hers, his hand rising again.

The sound of the second shot seemed to reverberate through her chest. He collapsed in front of her, his head hitting the floor with a sickening thud. Her gaze flew to James, his eyes wide with shock. The gun fell to the floor.

“James?” she heard Ellen cry out from below.

In seconds, the other woman was up the stairs. The scream she released sent a shiver down Mara's spine. “Oh my God!” she cried out, her eyes wide.

She took James's hand. “We have to call 911.”

Mara scrambled across the floor, her hands searching for the man she loved. She reached out to him, praying that he would be alright.

“It's over,” she murmured.

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Chapter 27

Mara placed another stack of clothing into the small suitcase laid out on the bed. She still couldn't believe the events that had taken place just two weeks ago. Thank God that Joe was alright. The knife had narrowly missed several vital organs.

He had been lucky.

And so had she.

She turned to glance around the room. Leaving him today was tearing her apart, but she had no excuse to stay. Not anymore. Now that his wounds had healed. She zipped the bag closed, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

He hadn't told her to leave.

But he hadn't asked her to say.

That was what cut deep.

Deep down, she had been hoping that he would. She had even held out the last week under the pretense of making sure that he was okay.

But she couldn't hold out any longer.

Not without making a bigger fool of herself.

Her fingers twisted in the linen sheets as she fought for the courage to pick up her suitcase and walk down those stairs. When she'd told him she was leaving, she had hoped, prayed that he would stop her.

But despite the look of confusion on his face, he had said nothing. And his silence had been worse than she could imagine. Even now, he was waiting downstairs.

Waiting for her to leave.

She took a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut tight.

She had to do this.

If she didn't, she would never know if he really wanted her or if he got stuck with her.

She couldn't bear that.

She pushed to her feet, reaching for her suitcase. Walking across the room, she kept her gaze focused on the door. She didn't dare look back. If she did, she might falter. And that was something she could not do.

At the top of the stairs, she stopped. It felt like her heart was being ripped out of her chest. But she had to push on.

She could do this.

She had to.

She took a deep breath and started down the stairs.

* * * *

Joe paced back and forth in the living room. Hearing her move around upstairs was torture. He had tried to tell himself that this was for the best ever since she told him that she was leaving.

So, why did he have this tight pain in his chest?

Why did he want to run upstairs and beg her to stay?

The thought of her leaving, of her not being here with him, was killing him. He heard her steps on the stairs and turned in time to see her reach the bottom. Her eyes met his hesitantly before looking away.

“I think I got everything,” she explained.

He took a step toward her, but his throat wouldn't work.

Her gaze flickered to his for a brief moment. “Lexi should be here soon.”

He watched as she took a step toward the door. He felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest.

“Wait.” He heard the word come out and was as surprised as she was.

She turned to face him, a look of hope dashing across her face, before hiding behind the guard.

“Do you want to leave?” he asked, knowing that it might kill him to hear the answer.

Her gaze met his. The look in her eyes took his breath away. “I want to stay because you want me here,” she confessed in a small voice.

He crossed the room in two long strides, taking her face in his hands. “I do want you here.”

“It's not just because of what happened?” she asked softly.

He shook his head, releasing a low chuckle. “No, it's not just because of what happened. It's because I want you with me. I've always wanted you,” he confessed, his voice husky.

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “You have?”

He grinned sheepishly. “Why do you think I was so bad at staying away from you?” he countered, his thumb wiping away the lone tear that escaped.

“I don't want you to stay away,” she said softly. “I love you, Joe.”

He looked down at her. His heart felt like it would burst right out of his chest.

They were just three little words.

Three little words that could mean everything.

And they did.

He knew that now.

He also knew that with Mara, they wouldn't be just words. They would be a solemn vow, a promise of things to come.

For once, he was ready to take that chance.

“I love you, too.”

He had thought that saying it would leave him feeling vulnerable, exposed, but instead he felt just the opposite.

He felt whole.

Like he could begin again.

With her.

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Epilogue

Cal stared at the monitors, leaning back in the leather chair.

It was inevitable, he supposed.

Married men weren't the type of people who would own a sex club, even if the ownership part was a secret. Not that Joe had actually made the leap yet.

But he knew it was only a matter of time.

He had spent enough time with the happy couple to know that was where their track was heading.

Hell, he couldn't even blame the guy.

Mara was an unbelievable woman. The kind of woman a man didn't get over. Joe was one lucky son of a bitch. He couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if he had been the one to give her the tour.

Not that he was jealous.

He wasn't.

He had enough in his life to worry about just keeping his family safe. Of course, their safety was nothing compared to what Mara and Joe had faced with the psycho who came after her. His family's danger was in their own stupidity.

He still couldn't believe what had happened. Thinking that the man who had tried to end both of their lives had spent time in the club sent a shiver up his spine. The worst part was knowing that the sick, sadistic bastard had a man on the inside. Even with a knife wound, Joe had been there to help the police track Curtis down. Then Joe had walked away with a jagged scar on his abdomen—and the girl.

Lucky bastard. He smiled.

Seeing the way they looked at each other, the crooked little half smiles they gave when they were sure no one was watching, made him a little envious. Maybe Joe was right. Maybe he really was missing something.

Too bad he didn't have the time or the patience to find out what it was.

Being with Mara had definitely changed Joe. He'd never seen the son of a bitch smile as much as he had in the last two months.

Which was what made this so necessary.

Joe was a good friend.

Too good of a friend to leave him in the lurch.

Even when he needed to.

He would never ask to leave the club. Joe would think he was deserting him. That's why he had made the decision to buy him out.

It was either that or close the club down altogether.

And he wasn't ready for that.

Not yet.

For now, he would have to run it on his own.

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About the Author

I decided that I wanted to be a writer at an early age. I think it all began with the movie Romancing the Stone. I wanted to be Joan Wilder. But, more than that, I wanted to write about all of the adventures she was going to have. I must admit those first few drafts were pretty rough. But the more I wrote, the more I learned. All through school, I was writing. Each class I went to, someone was waiting for a new chapter.

As I got older, I did what everyone does. I got a nine-to-five job to pay the bills. But writing was still my passion.

I am originally from Indiana. Corn country, as I like to call it. At the age of fourteen, my family moved to Orlando, Florida. As much as I like the warm weather, I miss Indiana. It will always be home. But moving to Florida gave me some wonderful friends, and of course, the man I married. He is the best husband in the world. He is always supportive and never fails to have a shoulder that I can lean on. He understands that my writing is a passion, and always cheers me on. Together, we live with our son and two cats.

When I'm not writing, I enjoy spending time with my family, reading, playing video games and watching movies. I love to travel. My husband and I were blessed to be able to take a cruise through the Mediterranean for our honeymoon. I have been to Italy, Greece, Spain, Sicily, France, Bahamas, Virgin Islands, Jamaica, Curacao, Martinique, and various states in the U.S.

I love to meet readers and other writers, so feel free to drop me a line.

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