The Duke Takes a Bride (Entitled Book 2) (18 page)

J
ulian felt homicidal
. It was a foreign sensation. His head felt like it was swelling, growing grotesquely big for his body. His eyes felt like a furnace. He wanted to kick the penthouse door open but instead had to satisfy himself with several vicious taps keying in the code in his smartphone to let himself in.

“Imogen?” He dropped his laptop and overnight bag in the foyer.

Mrs. Nero came bustling out of the kitchen. She glanced at his face and quickly made for the door. “Have a good night, sir.”

He ignored her and marched into Imogen’s room. This one had a door he could throw wide open. She was on the bed, her laptop on a breakfast-in-bed tray. She looked up, the smile on her face freezing at his expression.

“I told you to stay away from him,” he growled.

“Gray?” she clarified, rather unwisely.

“No, the Pope.”

She frowned at his sarcasm. “And it’s nice to see you again, too.”

“Gray is trouble. I don’t want you associating with him.”

“I can handle your brother.”

“Like he was handling you this morning?” he bit out.

“I was taking care of the situation before Lopez stepped in.”

Her calm ratched up his anger. “If Lopez hadn’t stepped in, my brother would have had his tongue down your throat!”

Her eyes flashed and she rose on her knees. “And speaking of Lopez, how dare you have me followed without my knowledge!”

Julian tried to keep his eyes above her neck but the thin, worn-out shirt, what else, was making it obvious her eyes were not the only things pointed at him.

“That’s what bodyguards do.” Julian ran a hand through his hair in frustration. This wasn’t the coming home to he had envisioned.

“Well, I don’t want one,” she sulked, crossing her arms across her chest.

All Julian wanted was to grab her, spread her legs wide, and slide deep into her wet, tight heat. He restrained himself. Barely.

“In that case, I have to let Lopez go.”

Her brows met. Julian knew she wouldn’t want anyone losing a job because of her.

“Just add him to your security detail.”

“He’ll be redundant. His position in my personal detail had been filled years ago.”

Her frown etched deeper. “Then why is he still with you?”

“He was assigned another post.” He leaned back against the door jamb, deciding to come clean. “I assigned him to you.”

“To me?” She wasn’t angry now. She just looked confused.

“Two years ago. I couldn’t let you go home alone every night to that kind of neighborhood. It wasn’t safe.”

Her mouth went slack, then she dropped to her haunches. Any second now she would rail at him for violating her privacy. He had ordered Lopez to follow her home after she had refused to ride in his bodyguard’s car.

“I didn’t require a full-detailed report of your whereabouts. I just wanted you to be safe wherever you were.” It was true. As long as she was safe, the bodyguard didn’t need to report to him. Julian didn’t want to know anything beyond that. Didn’t want to find out how he’d feel if she saw other men. He didn’t have the right.

“You gave me a bodyguard?” She took a shuddering breath. Her lips were pursed tightly. She didn’t look angry. In fact, Julian thought with alarm, she looked like she was about to cry.

Ah, fuck. Now she’ll think I’m a psycho.
“I overstepped my boundaries, didn’t I?” Just like with Maggie. He raked a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry−”

“No.” Her hand shot out to stave off his apology. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I ran away that night before we could talk and left you feeling guilty when there was no reason to be.”

She thought the bodyguard was about him dealing with his guilt over her. She couldn’t be more wrong. It was about her safety. And admittedly, that secret, forbidden knowledge that whenever he wanted to, he knew exactly where he’d find her. Which made him several shades of sick, after all.

All the bluster and anger in him went out, to be replaced rapidly by an equally base emotion. Sexual hunger. Only it wasn’t really replacing it. He was just allowing it to surface to the fore. It had been there, simmering, the moment he had stepped into the penthouse.

He strode to the edge of the bed as Imogen rose. His arms wrapped around her waist and he hauled her close, inhaling the sweet scent of skin between collarbone and neck. She exhaled, melting into him.

“Did you miss me?” the minx asked as she leaned back and looked up at him, her eyes serious. She was expecting him to prevaricate, to give a teasing response.

He pulled off her spectacles and dropped it on the bed. “Yes.” It was stark and true.

Her gaze grew soft and tender. She pulled his head down and sighed into his mouth.

Julian became rock hard. He wanted her too much for it not to be fast and rough. “I want you, Imogen. I can’t hold back,” he rumbled threateningly. “I won’t.”

She disengaged from him, knelt on the bed, transferred the breakfast tray to the floor, and lay back on the sheets with abandon. “I’m yours.”

Her words were water to a man wandering in the desert. He grabbed her ankles, dragged her to the foot of the bed, and pulled off her shorts and knickers. He sank to his knees into the mattress. He wedged himself between her thighs, buried his head between them, and coated his tongue with her sweetness. Her throaty moans filled the room. “Julian,” she cried, her hips arching off the bed as she came.

With jerky motions, he divested his trousers and underpants, drowning that voice telling him what he was about to do was underhanded, manipulative. That he should give Imogen a choice.

But no. Imogen wanted him just as much as he wanted her. It was already a foregone conclusion that they would get married. Before he could think himself out of it, Julian sought her slick entrance and with one smooth thrust buried himself deep inside her.

“Fuck!” he gritted out. He could feel her clinging depths, gloving him like a second skin. He had his hands wrapped like a vise around her waist, dimly registering he might be leaving bruises on her skin, but her inner muscles still rippling from her release blew that thought from his mind. He stared right to where they were joined, easing out until only the tip of his bare shaft remained inside her, glistening with her wetness. The musky scent of their arousal teased his nostrils and drove him wild. He slammed back full hilt inside her, withdrew, then pounded into her again and again. The slick sounds of flesh slapping against each other was a counterpoint to their heavy breathing.

He shoved her ratty shirt up to her neck, allowing him a front view of her hard tipped, luscious breasts as they bounced in rhythm to their rocking. Imogen was biting her knuckles, her other hand clawing the linens. Julian reached down and his finger found her sweet spot unerringly. With a cry her torso bucked off the bed, her toes digging into the bed. Her muscles contracted around him, milking him. “I love you,” she gasped.

Such was the power of her words. The earth moved and tilted against its axis. Stars were born and stars died. Julian came with such force he swore he blacked out for a few seconds. He found himself collapsed on top of her, his dead weight pinning her underneath him. Like a dying man finding his last strength, he shoved himself off her and clumsily dropped face down beside her. He feared he wouldn’t be able to move ever again. She had paralyzed him with her words.

He felt her stroking his back, his hair, soothing him as if she sensed the tumult she was subjecting him to. If he pretended not to have heard, they could go on as they were.

But she had to bloody well repeat it.

“I love you,” she whispered achingly. “It’s always been you.”

Her words doomed him.

He rolled away from her, sat on the edge of the bed, and began pulling on his trousers with shaking hands. “Take it back.” He hated sounding like a petulant child, the smell of fear washing over him like the odor of urine-soiled linens. He faced her, his eyes pleading with her to rescind the words.

She didn’t say anything. She just stared at him unflinchingly. His sweet and brave Imogen.

“That wasn’t part of the agreement, Imogen.”

“I know.”

He disguised the mounting panic that was overtaking him. He looked away from the hurt in her big brown eyes. “We’ll discuss this tomorrow. I’m tired. I need to sleep.”

He averted his gaze and prepared to leave. He couldn’t bear to see what would be reflected in her eyes.

The word coward rang in his head and taunted him all the way to his room.

J
ulian would get used
to it. He had to. No way was Imogen going to take it back. She had named it. Named the glorious and painful beast that consumed her. And named it love.

She was sure Julian felt it too. Every glance, every little thing he did for her all spoke of something deeper. It was hard to see him fighting it. But the alternative was worse. She couldn’t leave him. She didn’t want to. She still hadn’t told him she would marry him.

“Sir Julian has already left.” Mrs. Nero answered her unspoken question when she sauntered bleary-eyed into the kitchen after a night of tossing and turning. “He left something for you in his study.”

A folded note was propped on his desk along with a shiny shopping bag. She glanced at it like a ticking bomb, dread making her go cold all over. But what if he had put into words what he couldn’t say to her last night? With trembling fingers she smoothed the paper open, scanning it hurriedly. The words made no sense at first.

…maybe we should reassess our relationship.

…too hasty.

…someone who could love you as you deserve to be loved.

Then all at once it did, ripping her heart out of her chest.

Numbly, she opened the paper bag and took out the contents. It was a silken robe and a jade bracelet, the exact celadon green of his eyes. She walked out of the study robotically, went to the living room, and peered into the fish tank. Clark swam by some new silk plants and a little Chinese pagoda ornament. She was surprised to find herself sitting on the couch without any recollection of getting there. She marveled at the feel of wetness on her cheeks, astonished that a person whose heart was now a big gaping hole could manage to feel anything at all. She dropped her face into her hands and sobbed.

“
W
hat the fuck
do you mean they still haven’t got anything?” Julian barked at the head of his security detail over the phone. His secretary, who was in the process of stepping inside his London office, quickly backtracked and closed the door.

It had been a month of pure hell, and it seemed it wasn’t about to end anytime soon. Julian had called in favors from several friends in law enforcement and had hired several private investigators in L.A. to search for Imogen, but they had all turned up with nothing. He dreaded it every time his mobile rang, fearing it would be news of Imogen, hurt, in a hospital or as his tormented mind would like to torture him with, found dead, lying in a ditch somewhere. The only thing preventing him from full-blown panic was the fact that she called Maggie every week to let her know she was okay. For him there had been no calls. The last call had been six days ago. Maggie would be flying back to China tomorrow to a remote village where there would be no cellular signal. He had commandeered her mobile, now lying silent on his desk, and had forwarded all SMS and calls to Maggie’s new mobile number except the ones from Imogen. He had tried calling the number several times but it remained inaccessible.

In between meetings and numerous commitments, he spent all of his free time jetting to the U.S., hoping his sheer presence and will would somehow help them find her. She hadn’t gone to Kansas as he had hoped. Maggie had ripped into him when she found out Imogen had disappeared. She had rightly blamed him even without knowing the reason she left. He doubted she would be speaking to him if she knew the real reason behind Imogen’s disappearance.

Julian didn’t know how it happened, but the press found out about his search for Imogen.The papers dubbed Imogen as the Duke’s Runaway Girlfriend. The media went into a frenzy trying to locate her. There were several photos of Imogen “sightings” but they were all false leads.

A month and a half into her disappearance, Gray walked into his Los Angeles office to pick up his quarterly check. He wasn’t surprised Gray knew where to find him at ten in the evening. Julian rarely went to the penthouse now except to crash.

“You look like shit,” Gray said without preamble.

He was sitting behind his desk in the darkened office. It amused him perversely to find out how he felt inside was also how he appeared outside. “And a good evening to you too,” Julian answered flippantly. His clothes were hanging loose and he had forgotten to shave. Again.

“If you keep this up,
People
will knock you off the sexiest list.”

He shrugged. “About time you got one over me.” He felt snippy and small, pretty much the way he was feeling all the time. His partners were worried about him but gave him a wide berth. His façade was cracking.

“Not in the way that matters.” Gray regarded him steadily then swore. “You’re in love with her.”

Julian opened his mouth to deny it, but the words wouldn’t come out. He couldn’t stand the pity in his brother’s eyes.

“Just get your check and get the hell out.” Julian couldn’t be too sure if it was a trick of the shadow or a flicker of hurt that passed across his brother’s face.

“Don’t worry, Jules,” Gray uttered coldly, “I won’t outstay my welcome.” He grabbed the small envelope off the desk, took out a piece of paper, and signed it with an angry flourish. He slammed the paper palm down on the heavy table and fixed him a stare filled with loathing. “You don’t deserve her, but it seems she doesn’t have a choice now.”

Julian watched Gray walk towards the door, his shoulders stiff and his strides angry. In a few seconds he was out of the office and Julian had lost his chance to apologize.

Gray’s parting shot sounded cryptic, but he was too disheartened to demand an explanation. He slumped against the executive chair and rubbed his face wearily. A few minutes later, his SMS alert pinged. It was from Gray. He scanned the message quickly, his body going on full alert. Julian was out of his chair in a shot and on his way to West Hollywood in minutes, barking orders to Jenkins to put his F1 driving style to good use and drive as fast as he was legally allowed to do so.

“
A
re you okay
?” Stella asked for the third time. She had caught her leaning against one of the posts inside the West Hollywood bar.

Imogen had called in Stella’s debt to her and moved in to her apartment. She had been desperate and needed a place to stay while she planned her next move. She had thought of going to Kansas in the beginning, but her aunt had flown suddenly to Florida to attend the funeral of a friend. Besides, it would be the first place where Julian would try to find her, if indeed he was looking for her at all.

To help with the rent, Stella had gotten her the waitressing job. Imogen had done well at the start. Lately though, she had been feeling tired all the time. Even Stella had noticed her dragging her feet at work. Stella was nervous that her boss might notice and would be mad at her for recommending a slacker like Imogen. She dreaded how Stella would feel if she found out the real cause of her fatigue.

“I’m fine.” She pulled her lips in parody of a smile. It was a Friday and the bar was full. The pace tonight was making her out of breath and dizzy. She couldn’t walk out and leave Stella in the lurch, risking the ire of her boss.

“If you’re sure...” There was doubt in Stella’s eyes, but she was hailed by a customer and hurriedly left to take orders.

Imogen was glad the heavy make-up hid her pallor and together with the wig, hid her identity from anyone who might recognize her. She had been photographed several times in Julian’s company when they were out in public. She took a deep breath, picked up the heavy tray, and put steel in her spine. Only four hours to go before her shift was done.

Tomorrow she would go and see Julian. She had to swallow her pride. The baby came first. Nothing else. Not her foolish dreams. Not her broken heart.

Besides, it would only be a matter of time before she was found out. And though she knew at the start Gray would be the last person who would tell Julian where she was, her pregnancy changed things. For all his defiance, he had balked at the idea of her keeping her pregnancy a secret from Julian. Gray had issued an ultimatum. Either she tell Julian personally, or he would tell him about the baby. She had two days to do it.

She was grateful it was her day off tomorrow. She had to finally go see a doctor for a spot of blood she had seen on her underwear this morning. It was probably nothing, but it was better to be sure. After, she would go see Julian.

With a big sigh, she hefted the heavy tray and made her way to the tables.

G
ray was getting back
at him. Why else would he text him that he had spotted Imogen in this seedy establishment last night, if not out of spite? Imogen wasn’t the kind of girl who would patronize such a bar. He was already striding to the exit on his way to kill Gray when his senses tingled.

The petite blonde waitress weaving her way unsteadily between the tables caught his eye. The way her sweet curves filled out the too-tight French maid’s costume. The relief that washed over him almost sent him to his knees, to be replaced by rage when he saw a burly, middle-aged man looking down her neckline. He ate up the several feet that separated them in long angry strides, shoving some customers who were standing in his way. Expletives followed his rough progress. He brushed off a meaty hand that landed on his shoulder. His eyes were locked only on her, uncaring of the couple of drunks he had pissed off and left in his wake.

She was turning away from the table, away from the leering stare of the patron, and carrying her tray still filled with some beer mugs that she wouldn’t be able to see it in the dim lighting. A customer’s leg was sticking out under a table. It was directly in her path. In a flash, Julian was at her side. He snatched her tray with one hand and had an arm snaked around her waist to prevent her from taking another step farther.

The waitress raised indignant brown eyes. At the sight of his face, she swooned promptly.