You Are Mine (7 page)

But you can't forget. You'll never, ever forget.

“No, we won't,” Eva said flatly. “We'll find out who's behind this casino, who's threatening us, and we'll take them out. And that's all.”

Zac searched her face, and she met the intensity in his gaze head-on, daring him to disagree with her. This was her fight. Her choice. And she would not have it taken from her. Not again.

As if he knew exactly what she was thinking, his expression changed, that iron look back again. The one that brooked no argument. No dissension. “Oh no,” he said softly, clearly. “That's not all. Whether you like it or not, I will find the man who took you. And then I will kill him.”

“And if I don't want you to do that?”

“Then things will have to change.”

There was no warmth in his eyes now, amber freezing into a pure, icy gold, making foreboding turn over inside her. “What do you mean? What things?”

“Like I told you before, I've had seven years of doing only what you want, Eva. And I'm done. I want something for me.”

The foreboding sunk claws deep into her soul and held on tight. “What something?”

The expression on his face was impossible to misinterpret. “You, angel. I want you.”

 

CHAPTER FOUR

Eva's eyes went wide, and much to his satisfaction the pale skin of her cheeks suddenly flushed with color.

Good. Embarrassment was better than the fear that had been there before. The fear that had caused her to rear back from his touch and fall against the windows.

He hadn't intended to scare her, but putting her hands on him had been a mistake and he'd had to do something.

He could still feel the slight touch of her fingers as she'd smoothed the lapels of his jacket, as if there hadn't been layers of wool and cotton between her fingertips and his skin. And then, even more than that, the warmth of her actual skin against his as he'd taken her wrists in his hands. A brutal punch to the gut. A shot of pure alcohol to an alcoholic. A needle to the vein of a drug addict.

A mistake.

He shouldn't have done it and yet he didn't regret it, not for a second. Because now he knew exactly how bad her fear had gotten. And how desperate his hunger for her had become.

He was hard. From one touch of her skin.

Something had to give. Something had to break. And it looked like that something was him. Ridiculous for a man of his control, yet he'd let those words come out all the same, no matter that he shouldn't have said them.

And now that they were out, he wasn't taking them back.

Eva was staring at him as if she'd never seen him before. As if he were a stranger. “Me?” she asked, the edge of uncertainty in her voice. “What do you mean me?”

He studied her face, but the question seemed genuine, like she didn't understand what he meant. And maybe she didn't. From what she'd told him, her experience with men would have been extremely limited.

But then he didn't want to think about that. It made a red haze descend over his eyes, and for a man who prided himself on his self-control, that was unacceptable. Especially when he'd already had it compromised once already this evening.

“What do you think? I want you in my bed, Eva.” He may as well be completely clear on that front, make sure there were no misunderstandings. Being straight up with her was the only way.

He watched her vivid, expressive face. Saw shock and fear cross it. And possibly disgust too, though he didn't know whether that was him or whether it was due to the thought of sex itself. He couldn't blame her either way. Her experiences must have been horrendous.

“No.” The word was a soft, breathless denial. “No.”

“Yes.” He didn't bother to hide it, to dress it up as something it wasn't. “I've wanted you for years.”

She was breathing fast, he could see the quick rise and fall of her breasts beneath her T-shirt. “Oh, so is that why you've stuck around all—”

“It is not,” he cut across her, cold and sharp. “I've ‘stuck around' because you needed someone. Because I respect you and because I like you.” He held her shocked gaze. “The fact that I've always wanted you is almost incidental.”

He could almost see the way she rallied herself, pulling herself together again. Her courage was one of her great strengths and one of the many things he admired about her.

“And yet not so incidental that you're not going to use it against me.”

“I'm not using it against you. I'm just telling you what I want.”

She was still plastered against the glass, trying to keep as much distance between them as possible. God, the courage she must have had to approach him, to put her hands on him. That first touch in so many years …

He curled his fingers into his palm almost absently, as if to keep the warmth of her skin from fading.

If she noted the movement, she gave no sign. “Don't be so fucking coy, Zac. You said you wanted something for you. So what's that? A screw? Is that what you want?”

He could. Oh yes, he could definitely demand that. But tonight he was after something far more important. Something far more valuable.

Something that would break the holding pattern they'd gotten into.

“If it was just a quick fuck I was after, angel, believe me, there would be nothing coy about it. No. Tonight what I want is your trust.”

She blinked. “What? But I do—”

“No,” he cut her off before she could feed him yet another lie. “You don't. Because if you did, you would have told me what happened to you in that house long ago.”

Anger sparked to life in her face. “Are you kidding me? That's not about trust, Zac. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to have to talk about it. With anyone.”

“Deny it all you want. But one thing's for sure. We can't continue doing this anymore. Or at least I can't. Watching your life get smaller and smaller while your fear gets bigger and bigger. I thought after all these years you'd eventually start to trust me at some point, let me help you, but you haven't. And now my patience is at an end.”

Her jaw went tight. “So, what? You think you can waltz in here, uninvited, telling me you want me, demanding my trust, and expecting me to just give it to you?” The sarcasm in her voice was razor sharp. “Typical alpha-male shit in other words.”

He ignored that. “I've spent years doing things your way, Eva. Never pushing you, never crowding you. Respecting your boundaries. And look at you. You're absolutely terrified of me, even now.”

“Only because you showed up without any fucking warning!”

At least she didn't deny it this time. “You wouldn't have let me in otherwise. Deny it if you can.”

Her mouth opened. Shut again. “That's no reason for you to go—”

“I'm not arguing with you.” It was time to bring this little discussion to a close. Give her something to think about and some time in which to think it. “I'm laying out the facts. If you want my help with this situation, you accept a few rules to demonstrate your trust in me.”

“Rules? What freaking rules?”

“You don't hide things from me. You do exactly what I say, when I say it. No argument, no protest.”

“And why the fucking hell would I do that?”

“Because you trust me.” He held her gaze. “Because, Eva, if you don't, then you're on your own.”

The long, pale expanse of her throat moved, the fury in her eyes making them burn as bright as stars. “Fine. I guess I'll be doing this without you then.”

He hadn't expected her to give in—he already knew she was a fighter right down to her bones. But still, the fact that she didn't want to hurt more than he thought it would.

Good thing he wasn't bluffing.

He kept his gaze locked with hers, so she could be in no doubt. “Good-bye then, Eva King. It's been an honor and a privilege to have known you.”

Then he turned on his heel and walked out the door.

*   *   *

Eva had a more-sleepless-than-normal night and woke up the next morning feeling like absolute shit. Business as usual in other words.

She didn't think about Zac as she painstakingly made herself coffee with the notorious and temperamental espresso machine she liked to use. She'd pushed what had happened the night before to the far reaches of her mind, and that's where it was going to stay for as long as she could manage it.

Wrapping her fingers around the vast, white china mug she liked to drink her coffee out of, she headed back into the lounge, intending to check on the results of her search.

Only to stop dead in the doorway. Her heart beating so fast she thought it might explode out of her chest.

There was no one there, her lounge empty of anything but her computer desk. But every nerve ending she had insisted that there was danger. That her sanctuary had been breached again.

Stupid. This was stupid.

She tried to calm her racing heartbeat with a few deep breaths. Only to catch a faint, spicy scent, familiar and warm. It was so faint it was barely there, but she could smell it nonetheless. Zac's aftershave.

A shiver whispered over her skin.

You. I want you.

The prick.
That
had never been part of their friendship and how dare he introduce it. How
dare
he change things. She'd never given him any reason to think there could be something between them, none at all. So why the hell he thought he could share that with her, she had no freaking idea. Because it wasn't as if she was suddenly going to fall into his arms, God no.

And as for demanding her trust like she could give it just like that … Well, he was shit out of luck there too.

Don't you think he's earned it?

Clearly
he
thought he had. And sure, after seven years, perhaps a normal person would have trusted him. But she wasn't a normal person. Trust wasn't something she gave lightly, if at all. In fact, after what had happened in that house and on the streets, it was highly unlikely that she'd trust anyone ever again.

Forcing herself to move, she walked over to her desk, coffee clutched in her icy fingers.

It's been an honor and a privilege to have known you.

She sat down in her chair, the weight of her anger heavy as lead. Fucking men. They were all the same. They demanded things from you, and if you didn't give in to them, then they acted like bastards. Who'd have thought Zac Rutherford would be the same as all the rest?

The weight shifted inside her, growing sharp edges. Disappointment. Hurt. Betrayal. Seven years he'd been her friend and now, because she wouldn't give him what he wanted, he'd left. Jesus, like he was any better. He'd never told her anything about himself, never trusted her with any piece of who he was. Why should she do the same for him?

Screw him. She didn't need him. She didn't need anyone.

Putting down her coffee and ignoring the painful feeling in her chest, Eva quickly ran through her searches again.

This was more important anyway. She needed to find out the identity of this guy, figure out if there was a connection between what had happened to Alex and the threats to her. Whether that was related to the human trafficking ring they'd discovered in Conrad's club.

And she didn't need Zac for that.

Eva scowled at the monitor in front of her. The searches hadn't thrown up anything overnight, but on the other hand, they hadn't led to her being discovered yet either. Always a good thing.

Gulping at her coffee, she went through her normal vast amount of emails then dealt with a number of issues that had cropped up during the night with Void Angel. The usual run-of-the-mill stuff. She'd set her special human trafficking team on the trail of linking any known trafficking rings with Conrad South's casino. So far they hadn't found anything, but it was only a matter of time, she was sure.

She'd met the girl Alex had rescued and had recognized the signs of trauma in her face. The same as in her own. Which had only made her even more determined to find out who was behind this.

I will find the man who took you. And then I will kill him.

Ice water slid down her spine.

This was not
his
problem to solve. And it wasn't
his
revenge to take. It was hers. The choice was hers. And it was up to her how she was going to deal with it.

Of course, what they really needed to do was get the FBI involved. But she didn't want to get the Feds in when they didn't have any concrete evidence. They had to find more.

They?

Eva snarled at the monitor. Well, Alex and Gabriel naturally, since they were now personally involved. But Zac? He'd told her she was on her own, and he wasn't a man to issue idle threats.

I can make you want to give me everything …

“Get out of my head, motherfucker,” she growled, stabbing at a button on her keyboard.

All at once a chiming sound came from her computer.

Holy hell, was that one of her searches?

She quickly flicked through to the search that had been running in the background. And God, she was right. The complicated search program had turned up a match.

Her hand was shaking as she reached for the mouse, nervous fear coiling through her gut like a small, cold snake. No, not fear. It would never be that. But she'd admit to apprehension. Whomever this search had found would either be familiar to her or not. And if they weren't, then there went any connection to the Lucky Seven and Conrad South.

She really didn't know which one she was hoping for.

She clicked the mouse, and a file opened up.

And this time the shiver gripped her whole body.

She recognized the guy. He'd been at the house. Every time The Man had arrived, a bodyguard or some other henchman would come get her, make sure her blindfold was properly tied and that she couldn't see.