You Are Mine (30 page)

“Unsurprising,” Zac said. “His father, the previous sheikh, died three months ago so he's new to the throne. New to his father's dodgy business practices too. My contact has been in touch with someone inside the palace and apparently the previous sheikh had … unorthodox tastes shall we say.”

Gabriel put his hands down on the table, bracing himself against the edge. “How unorthodox? Are we talking human trafficking? A similar setup to what was going down at South's?”

“Seems to be the case.” At least that was what the email Zac had gotten had indicated. The contact had mentioned that there wasn't much in the way of evidence, but it was better than nothing. Or at least it was more than they'd had.

“I got the impression the guy didn't want to be there,” Alex said. “And he left pretty abruptly during the strip-poker part of the game.”

“So why was he there in the first place?” Gabriel's dark gaze flicked to Zac. “And where did he get the invite from?”

“The contact didn't say,” Zac answered. “Presumably from one of the Devils. They were probably hoping to initiate the new sheikh into his father's business practices.”

Alex made a disgusted sound. “Yeah, well, that sounds familiar. Poor bastard. No wonder he didn't want to be there.”

“So we have some concrete evidence?” Gabriel's gaze didn't shift from Zac.

“No,” Zac said flatly. “My contact said he would try to find some, but it was risky. The new sheikh is under fire from various political groups within the kingdom—possibly ones who backed his father—so the situation is fairly volatile. Information won't be easy to come by, but I've told him to give it a try.”

Gabriel cursed and pushed himself away from the table. “What about that mercenary? Elijah? Did you ever find anything on him?”

“No. Nothing at all.” And he'd looked. Hard. “He's a man who doesn't want to be found.”

“Fuck. So what? That's it?”

Zac gave him a dispassionate glance. He knew the other man didn't do waiting well, especially when there was still that possible threat to Honor to worry about, but there really wasn't any other option. “That
is
it. We can't make a move until Eva confirms Fitzgerald is the key.”

“And she's going to do that, is she?” Gabriel was scowling. “She wasn't too happy about it from what I saw.”

Zac folded his arms. “I'll be with her. She knows how important this is.”

“So … just out of interest,” Alex murmured, “why did she slap your face?”

There was a tense silence, both men giving Zac assessing, not exactly friendly, looks.

“That's none of your business,” Zac told them coldly.

“It's our fucking business if it's affecting this investigation,” Gabriel growled. “What have you done to her, Zac?”

Anger like a bubble of magma burst in his veins. It was all he could do not to punch the other man in the face. “If you have an accusation, Gabe, at least have the decency to be up front about it.”

“It's not an accusation. It's a threat. If this weird shit you and Eva have got going on is affecting our success with the Seven Devils, then it's got to fucking stop.” An answering anger glittered in the other man's eyes. “Honor's at risk and I will do anything—
anything
—to keep her safe. Understand?”

Zac's jaw felt tight, tension crawling along the back of his neck and shoulders. “You think I wouldn't do the same for Eva? You think I haven't being doing exactly that for seven fucking years?”

Another tense silence fell.

Curiously, this time it was Alex who spoke. “Okay, everyone calm the hell down. No one's accusing you of anything, Zac. But Gabe's right. Eva's fragile, and if she can't handle—”

“Eve can handle anything,” Zac interrupted, fixing Alex with a cold stare. “You underestimate her.”

He didn't want anyone questioning her, especially those who had no idea what she'd gone through. No idea of the strength she possessed. She could handle anything. She'd handled him. Tied to a chair with a blindfold on as he'd made her revisit her deepest fears. As he'd put his mouth to her skin, tasted her, made her scream …

Alex gave him an impenetrable look. “You're not your usual impassive self, Zac. Anything up?”

The observation shocked him. He wasn't used to being read so easily. Repressing the anger creeping through his veins, he returned Alex's stare with one of his own. The one he used to control a wayward sub. “What makes you say that?”

Alex was unmoved by the stare. “You seem pissed about something. It's not like you.”

His friend was right. He
was
pissed about something. His feelings for one small, fragile-looking white-haired woman to be exact. The way he couldn't get the taste of her, the feel of her body hot and tight around him, the sound of her cries, out of his head. Another symptom of his addiction. A siren song calling him to give in, to go back to her and take what he wanted.

He could resist that. His whole life had been about control over his physical hungers after all. No, what he struggled with was the need beneath that. The one that went deeper than physical desire, that craved something more. A more intense connection.

That's
what he had to resist. Because a connection like that demanded a power exchange his whole soul rebelled against. He'd been there once before, and never again.

“I'm annoyed you two are looking at me like I've hurt Eva in some way,” he said flatly, all either of them would get in the way of truth. “Which given the fact that I've been the one protecting her all these years, is a little difficult to swallow.”

Alex lifted a shoulder, unperturbed. “Sure. But she's our friend too, man. We just want to make sure she's okay.”

He shouldn't be so touchy. It only gave away more than he was willing to reveal. “She's fine.”

“And that slap she gave you?” This time, it was Gabriel who asked.

He supposed he couldn't blame either man for asking the question. He'd have done the same thing in their place. Keeping his anger rigidly under control, he said, “I know what happened to her. She didn't like me referring to it in front of everyone.”

Something flickered through Alex's gaze. “Fair enough.”

Gabriel said nothing, just kept his flat dark eyes on Zac.

“She and I have dealt with the issue,” Zac went on, making sure both men knew the subject was now closed. “It won't affect her attending Fitzgerald's party tomorrow night and it doesn't concern anyone else. Is that clear?”

Gabriel looked at Zac a moment longer, then he shot a glance at Alex, a silent kind of communication that Zac didn't much like the look of.

His phone chimed suddenly in his pocket and he pulled it out, ignoring the other two men.

There was a photo on the screen. A woman in an incredible silver dress. It seemed to be glittering in the light, the shimmer of it outlining slender curves and highlighting the pale skin of her shoulders and neck. White blonde hair fell past those alabaster shoulders, and the determined point of her chin was familiar. Her eyes …

Fuck. It was Eva.

He felt like he'd been punched in the face.

“Zac?” Alex, his voice sounding puzzled. “Everything okay?”

But Zac was already turning, walking away from the table and across the dusty, rubbish-strewn concrete floor, over to the edge of the building where there was no wall, nothing but air and all of Lower Manhattan spread out beneath him.

He couldn't stop looking at the photo of Eva on his screen.

All the breath had gone out of him, something burning in his blood that wasn't wholly anger or even completely desire, but something he didn't recognize. Something that he didn't want yet was there all the same.

Holy God, but she was beautiful. His angel in truth.

She was giving the camera her usual “fuck you” look, but this time there was a boldness to it that hadn't been there before. That was somehow stronger and more compelling than it had been in her usual uniform of T-shirt and jeans and boots.

A beautiful woman in a killer dress, with her chin up and her eyes challenging the camera head-on …

Confronting. Strong. Captivating.

The feeling inside him twisted hard, intense hunger now, making him dry-mouthed, his heart beating in his head like Big Ben thousands of miles across the Atlantic.

Why the fuck was she sending him a picture like this? What the hell did she want?

His phone chimed again, a follow-up text.
I assume I'll see you tomorrow night?

A fair enough question when he hadn't been in contact with her since the night he'd told her to leave, and yes that had been deliberate. An asshole move considering a day hadn't gone by when he
hadn't
at least talked to her on the phone or texted her.

He'd had to do something though. Start kicking the Eva King habit somehow.

He stared at the photo on his screen, trying to crush the rough surge of emotion inside him, all of it twisted and raw and just fucking
not
what he wanted.

Jesus but he didn't want to have to be near her again, especially if she was going to look like that, yet he'd promised her. He'd accompany her tomorrow night, but that was it. After that he'd leave her alone for good.

Zac texted a curt
yes
then put his phone back in his pocket. He glanced back at the table where Alex and Gabriel stood. They were in conversation, rather ostentatiously not looking in his direction.

A strange dislocation hit him all of a sudden. As if he were standing on the outside of the building looking in. Like he had done sometimes back in his childhood, walking from the cinema, past the lovely old homes with windows that faced the street. Where he'd been able to see the lives of people with families playing out. Families who sat around watching TV together or talking or eating.

Happy families. Normal lives.

Things he didn't have and never would.

He used to watch them. Used to want what they had. Used to imagine it was him sitting on the couch or watching that TV or eating that meal. Him receiving the hug and the kiss on the top of his head.

He'd thought perhaps he'd found something a bit like that with the Nine Circles. A sense of belonging. A kind of family. But this … need for Eva had ruined it.

Something in the area of his chest tightened painfully.

It never would be him.

He would always be on the outside looking in.

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Eva held the stupid, useless little evening purse in her lap and tried to stop herself from pulling nervously at the silver beads on it as the limo pulled up to the curb outside Zac's house.

A tall, dark figure stood there, waiting.

She let out a breath, made her fingers relax on the purse.

There was no reason to be nervous. It was only Zac. Zac, who'd been ignoring her for two days straight, apart from that short, sharp “yes” he'd texted her with the day before.

It hadn't been the response she'd been hoping for when she'd sent him the pic of her in the dress, and she was pissed about it, no point in denying that.

Pissed and nervous. It was ridiculous.

She wished suddenly that she had on her jeans and her Docs, a bit of familiarity to hold onto, because there was nothing familiar about the silver dress she wore or the little silver slippers on her feet or the feel of her hair in a straight white fall down her back or the stickiness of lipstick on her mouth.

Normally Zac would have been her piece of familiarity, her anchor point, but he wasn't now. He'd become the thing she was nervous of.

How weird to be more afraid of seeing him than of going to the upcoming party and being face-to-face with Fitzgerald.

The car door opened and Zac got in, and all at once Eva found it difficult to breathe.

He was in an impeccably tailored tux, the austere simplicity of the snowy white shirt and deep black of the jacket only serving to enhance the rough, raw power and charisma of the man who wore it. He was dangerous and it showed.

He was also beautiful. He made her heart catch inside her chest.

As he sat down opposite her, she had the weirdest urge to run her fingers along the hard, strong line of his jaw. Or maybe trace the full curve of his lower lip, the only soft thing in his face apart from his thick, inky lashes.

She'd never wanted to spontaneously touch anyone before and she had to curl her fingers hard around her purse in order to stop herself from doing so now.

Temple shut the door behind him and there was a moment of taut silence as Eva forced herself to meet his gaze.

The gold of his eyes burned like a flame in the heart of a bonfire, and she felt a rush of answering heat. She could smell him too, the spicy, warm scent of cedar that made her want to bury her face in his neck and inhale.

God, she'd never felt such things before. Never knew it was possible to feel them and especially not about him. Nervous and hungry and aching. Afraid and desperate and wanting.

“You never told me what you thought about the dress,” she said into the dense silence.

Zac had folded his hands casually in his lap. He didn't have his gloves on tonight, the black ink of the tattoos on the backs of his fingers standing out on his bronze skin. “You look beautiful,” he said without inflection.

Disappointment gathered in the pit of her stomach. She wanted more from him than that, she realized. Some kind of reaction that wasn't so … blank. “Not exactly what a girl wants to hear when she puts on a dress for the first time.”

“I said you look beautiful. What more do you want?”

“You could look at me for a start.”

“I am looking at you.”

He was, that was true. But not the way he'd looked at her before she'd stepped over the threshold into his study days ago. With such focused intensity. As if she were the only thing worth looking at in the entire universe.