You Are Mine (10 page)

He could give her that. And then he could deny it. That was what punishment was, after all. The denial of pleasure.

Abruptly, her fear vanished and she rolled her eyes, back to her usual bravado. “For fuck's sake, Zac. Make up your mind.” She reached for the hem of her T-shirt. “We can deal with the sex part right—”

“No,” he interrupted with hard authority. “This is not the time. You have a name, or so you told me. Which means we need to pay this person a visit first.”

Eva scowled and folded her arms. “But you said you wanted me. That you wouldn't help unless I had sex with you. Are you changing your mind now or what?”

Goose bumps had risen over her skin and reflexively he glanced at the controls that determined the heating in his office. He preferred it cool so no wonder she was cold.

Zac came around the desk, noting the way she tensed up as he came close, eyeing him as if he was dangerous. Good. She should be wary. She'd been regarding him as safe for far too long and that was part of the problem.

He wasn't safe and he never had been.

“I'm not changing my mind.” He bent and picked her jacket up from the armchair. Normally he would throw it at her for her to catch. Or hand it to her. They wouldn't touch, not even accidentally.

Now he held it in front of him with both hands, making it clear that if she wanted it, he was going to help her into it. “And what I actually said was that I wouldn't help you unless I had your trust first. So here we are. Your first demonstration of trust. Come and get your jacket from me, Eva.”

Her gaze flickered. She glanced at the black leather then up at him again, making no move toward it. “So I'm just supposed to do whatever you say like a good little girl?” She made it sound like that was the worst thing in the world. He didn't move. He would have this from her, he fucking would. “Yes that's exactly what you're supposed to do. Or else I'm not going anywhere.”

“Oh, Christ. You're treating me like—”

“Come. Here.” He made each word hard and flat with authority.

Her mouth tightened. She glanced at the jacket in his hands, an almost imperceptible shiver shaking her. She was obviously cold and yet she didn't want to give in. Fighting, naturally.

“Prick,” she muttered at last, walking toward him, holding his gaze as if daring him to find any sign she was scared or nervous.

But he knew she was, because the pulse at the base of her throat was beating fast.

About fucking time. He was sick of having no effect on her whatsoever. Of being the crutch she picked up whenever she needed support, only to be ignored when she didn't.

Eva turned around, shoving her arm into one of the sleeves he held for her. Then the other. He didn't release his hold on her jacket, inhaling the unexpectedly feminine scent of her. Jasmine and vanilla. And underlying that, the edge of soft musk, a unique smell that was all Eva.

It made him hard, that scent. Made him want all kinds of things. Things he'd spent years denying himself because of the scars he knew she carried. Once, he'd hoped to heal those scars, but no matter what he did, no matter how gentle or careful or respectful he was, nothing seemed to help. She'd resolutely kept him at a distance.

Well, not anymore.

Keeping one hand on her jacket, Zac reached around her with the other and slid his fingers around her throat.

She went rigid, her pulse racing against his palm, the warmth of her skin burning like an ember. She made no sound at all.

He bent his head so his mouth was near her ear. “How dare you,” he said with quiet emphasis, allowing his fury to bleed through. “How dare you come in here and reduce the past seven years to sex. How dare you make everything I've done for you about
fucking.
”

She swallowed, her throat moving under his hand, her body beginning to tremble. “I … I d-didn't mean—” Her voice was hoarse, her fear so intense he could smell it.

But he didn't let her go. “I don't give a shit what you meant. I know you're scared. I know this is difficult. But being afraid is no excuse. You don't fuck with me, angel. You don't fuck with what I've done for you. Seven years I've done everything you wanted and now it's your turn. You
will
give me what I want.”

Her breath was coming in short, hard pants and even though his grip on her was light and she could have pulled away from him at any moment, she didn't. “W-what?”

He leaned down a little further, brushing his mouth against her ear, relishing the soft, frightened sound that escaped her. “Your promise, angel. That while we're dealing with this situation, you won't argue or protest. That you'll give me all the information we might need, that you won't hide anything from me. That you'll trust me.”

“S-Says the man with his hand around my throat.”

Christ, even now, shit-scared and trembling, she couldn't drop that brave front for him, not even for a second. “You just can't help yourself, can you?” He let his hold tighten a little further. “Your promise, Eva. Now.”

“I-I-I promise. Now let me go, you fucker.”

He didn't want to. He wanted to keep pushing, have the other thing she'd offered him. Strip her naked, push her down on her knees and take her body too. But with this man they had to find, they didn't have time.

Yet.

Zac released his hold on her, watching as she took a quick couple of steps toward the door as soon as he let go. As if she couldn't wait to put some distance between them. “Come on then,” she said, the slightest edge in her voice. “What are you waiting for?” She didn't turn around.

The anger in him had calmed, that hoarse promise of hers soothing the savage beast. Still, if she thought he wasn't going to put it to the test, she was wrong.

*   *   *

For the first time ever, Eva felt uncomfortable with Zac in the backseat of her limo.

He sat beside her in his usual place, several inches of space between them. And yet it felt like he was taking up all the room. All the air even.

She couldn't seem to stop shaking. That
asshole
. He'd put … his hand around her throat. God, she could still feel the touch of his fingers on her bare skin, like being seared by a naked flame. Then there had been the warmth of his breath against her ear and his voice, taut with fury.
“How dare you…”

That made her feel ashamed of herself. Okay, so she shouldn't have used his confession that he wanted her against him like that. Made it about sex instead of trust. But, well, she'd been … nervous. No matter how many times she told herself on the way to his house that sex didn't mean anything to her, it didn't stop the nervousness from clenching tight in her gut or the insidious cold from working its way through her.

How dare you come in here and reduce the past seven years to sex … to fucking.

Her throat tightened. He'd been so angry with her, though she didn't know what she'd expected. She'd just been …

Admit it. Say it. You were afraid.

Eva bit her lip, shying away from the thought. Instead, she shot him a glance, unable to help herself. He was looking out the window, the lines of his dark face hard. There was no anger there now, no flash of what she'd thought was hurt. Both were gone as if they'd never been.

She shifted in her seat, bitterly conscious of his scent, the warmth of cedar and old, well-loved leather. A familiar, warm smell that she'd only been vaguely aware of before. And of the looming, massive presence of him.

A strange unease twisted through her. Dragging her gaze from his face, she looked down at her hands clasped tightly in her lap instead.

The way he'd held out her jacket for her, ostensibly ever the gentleman, and yet the expression in his amber eyes had been far from gentlemanly. Fury had lurked there and something else. Something … dominant. Calling weirdly to a part of her she'd never been conscious of before. A part of her that wanted to do whatever he said and have him take away all that nervousness and fear. Roll over and let him take the burden of it.

She'd seen him give that look to other people before and had often watched as they'd hurried to obey him. She'd always been scornful of such behavior.

But now … she could almost understand it.

Not that his command alone had made her cross the room to him, Christ no, despite the weak part of her that wanted to obey him and have him take everything away. She wasn't that weak. But she did need his help and he clearly wasn't going to give it to her until she capitulated.

Your trust
and
your body, don't forget.

Yeah, like she'd forget that. The sex thing she'd handle, no problem. It was the trust thing she had difficulties with. Then again, all she'd had to promise was obey a couple of commands and not hide things from him. That wasn't so much of a big deal, was it?

She shifted again in her seat, keeping her hands clasped together, fighting not to brush her neck, touch the place where his palm had rested against her throat. Fuck, she could still feel the imprint of his fingers there like a burn.

Maybe she should have just snatched her jacket out of his hands, but then that would have given away the fact that he affected her. That he scared her. So she'd had no choice but to thrust her arms into the sleeves and stand there as his hand slid around her throat. Making her want to scream with terror. And yet …

There had been something else behind that mindless terror. A lingering memory of safety. Of the softness of the cashmere coat he'd wrapped her the day he'd come to take her away from the house. No questions, she'd told him. And he didn't ask any. Only given her his coat, making her feel warm for the first time in her life.

Eva swallowed, trying to untwist her fingers from the blanket.

The silence in the car was deafening, but she didn't want to speak. Didn't know what to say anyway. Perhaps an apology, but then that would mean admitting she'd been driven by fear and there was no way she'd admit that to him.

She should be thinking about the man she was going to face. Get herself used to the idea of seeing someone she recognized from that time. Perhaps finally knowing the identity of who had taken her.

The memory of safety and warmth faded abruptly, and she shivered.

No. Perhaps thinking of that was a stupid idea after all.

Beside her Zac shifted, and despite herself, every muscle in her body tensed as if acknowledging a threat.

But he was only leaning forward as the limo slowed, coming to a stop outside a disreputable-looking apartment building. In fact the entire neighborhood was disreputable-looking, now that she got a good view through the window. Graffiti on the buildings and trash in the gutters. Men hanging around in little knots; one group sat on the steps of a nearby apartment building while another stood in front of a liquor store. A crowd of young women wearing far too much makeup and far too little clothes passed, and there was catcalling and shouting going on.

God. It was too close to home for her comfort. These were the kinds of streets she had grown up on. In fact, her father could have been one of those catcalling men, with nothing better to do than drink and sell a little meth to get by. And those men could have been his friends, the ones who drank, took the meth her father sold, and grabbed her in the dark when they thought she was sleeping …

“Angel.” Zac's voice was full of its usual calm and authority. “We're here.”

Temple had gotten out and opened the car door for them, the cold air and the stink of the city suddenly permeating the interior.

She didn't want to get out. She didn't want to see the man they'd come for. She wanted to stay in the safety of her car and get Temple to take her straight back to her apartment, where she could stay in the warmth and never, ever leave.

But she couldn't. Zac was here and she had to prove to him there was nothing wrong. That she wasn't scared. That her fear was
not
getting bigger and bigger the way he seemed to think.

“I'm ready,” she said, sounding hollow and as far from ready as it was possible to be.

She could feel his gaze on her, amber eyes searching. But he said nothing, getting out of the car to stand on the sidewalk, waiting for her.

Jesus, her reaction was ridiculous. Completely and utterly.

Forcing herself out of the car, she kept her gaze trained on the buttons of Zac's elegantly tailored black overcoat and not on the sudden, yawning sense of space as she stepped onto the broken concrete of the sidewalk.

“We should have taken my car,” he murmured, glancing at a group of sullen youths who'd drifted closer to where they stood, eyeing them with guarded, wary eyes. “The limo is too ostentatious.”

He wasn't wrong. But right then, Eva was extremely glad she'd taken it. In fact, she couldn't wait to get back inside it.

“Come on.” She stuffed her hands into her pockets. “The quicker we do this, the quicker we can get out of here.”

“If anything happens, let me know,” Zac said to Temple, giving her a meaningful look. “We won't be long.”

Temple seemed to understand. “Don't worry, Mr. Rutherford.” Her hand drifted to her hip, where the weapon she carried was secreted. “I'll make sure the car remains in one piece.”

For some reason, the exchange annoyed Eva. Yes, Zac had recommended Temple, but Eva was the one who paid her salary. And Eva was the one who gave the orders.

Yet here was Zac, assuming command the way he always did, while she … let him.

I've been protecting you for a very long time …

Had he always done this? She had a horrible feeling he had and she'd never noticed.

He'd found her a building to live in. Loaned her money to start her business. Installed the security. Recommended employees to her. Provided company whenever she went anywhere because she didn't like being outside on her own. Been the calming voice on the end of the phone when her thoughts wouldn't shut the hell up.