Handcuffed by Her Hero (32 page)

Lots of glass. Lots of light.
Lots of white. Mua’s mansion looked more like a place that should overlook the
waters of Biscayne Bay instead of Puget Sound.

Luna squirmed atop a blinding
love seat decorated with a pastel blue pillow. None of it felt right. Why did
anyone in Seattle decorate their place like a hospital?

Only one answer made sense. Compensation
issues. When a man’s fortune was made on filth, it made sense that his
household bleach receipts matched the booze orders.

She was getting a damn headache.
Her heart began to pound.

Maybe it was her common sense coming
back to life.

What the hell was she doing here?
Why hadn’t she seen the weakened defenses through which Mua had crawled in to
get at her? Why hadn’t she told him to go fuck himself and licked her wounds
from Saturday in private?

Because she hadn’t expected to be
alone after Saturday. And Mua’s smooth, slick smile was better than her empty,
quiet loft.

Shit, how she yearned for that
loft now.

She needed to get out of here.
The whack job needed to find somebody else to play in this sand box with him.

She’d furtively started looking
for a quiet way to get out of here—when Mua’s tech guy shut off the speakers
that pulsed with the eighties technobabble and motioned his boss to the wall of
gadgets, cameras, and speakers they all referred to as “the starship.” Luna rose
too, thinking whatever suddenly captivated the freak with the teased hair and
the psycho killer eyes would do the same for Mua. If she got lucky, she could turn
a trip to the loo into a walk out the front door.

Two things stopped her from the follow-through.
First, a glance from Mua told her if she
thought
about running for it,
she wouldn’t be living in peace for an extremely long time to come.

Second, and
much
easier to
swallow, tech boy cranked up the volume on the feed to which he’d been tuned. Because
of that, Zeke’s voice boomed through the room.

“…are you out of your collective
minds?”

A rich baritone laugh answered Z,
layered over mild static that denoted a tapped phone call. Luna forced her face
to remain impassive. Garrett Hawkins. The guy sounded happy for once, something
she felt like smiling
and
sobbing about. He’d been through hell to get to
his joy with his destined love. She knew that struggle well.

The conversation between the two
men continued. Luna steeled every muscle in her body every time Z spoke. It
wasn’t an easy task when the growls and demands he issued to his friend swooped
her mind back to that magical hour they’d shared at the Bastille. Her blood
sang. Her pussy plumped. Every inch of her sex throbbed.

Mua slid her his
I-know-what’s-going-on-in-your-panties grin before patting psycho killer on the
shoulder. “Excellent work, Stephan.”

The guy chuckled as Garrett and Z
wrapped their exchange with the confirmation that Zeke and Rayna would be
coming back today. “The dumb shits fell for the decoy at the airport faster
than orks under a paralysis spell!”

Luna closed her eyes in order to
mask her shudder. Thank fuck Mua hadn’t told her to practice her special
embrace with Stephan.

“They certainly did,” the man
murmured. “And now things are falling nicely into place, hmmm?”

Something in Mua’s tone pulled
her eyes back open. The man’s expectant gaze awaited hers. He’d clearly
directed the question at her as much as Stephan. She licked her lips fast, her
nerves still jangled and her heart still stopped from hearing Z’s voice again.
Her body never reacted this way to anyone else. She was coded for him. He had
to see that. He
had
to.

“You’re really sure this is going
to work?” She leveled it at him as a demand more than a question.

Mua’s serenity remained
unchanged. “One thing I love about my work is the certainty of human
psychology, and the beauty in making simple plans because of it.”

She crossed her arms. “This plan
is as ‘simple’ as a
Mission: Impossible
script, Mua.”

He matched her pose. “The plan
will work, darling.”

She wondered why his assurance
only made her stomach tighten. “And Zeke won’t get permanently hurt? Even if
worse comes to worse, the damage will be no worse than a Taser jolt, right?”

“We’ve been over this
several
times, Luna.” He dipped his head, looking full of vice principal disapproval,
giving her a delightful trip down the path of awful high school memories. “Have
I not guaranteed that we’ll both have what we want?”

Just like all those times in the
VP’s office, she craved a cigarette and compensated by squirming. Fine. For all
the man’s creepy vibes, he was right. Events were happening exactly as he said
they would. His insight into
her
teetered on scary, which didn’t make it
easier to find a damn thing to like about him. But she didn’t like wheat grass
shots or cleaning out the cat box, either.

Sometimes life required a girl to
suck her shit up.

“All right,” she finally
conceded. “I’m in. I’m ready.”

His reassuring smile returned.
“Yes, darling. You certainly are.” He moved his hand from Stephan’s shoulder to
her elbow. “Your bedroom is being prepared for you. Get a good night’s sleep, lovely
Luna.”

She politely slipped from his
hold. There was nothing flirty about his move —she mused that Psycho Killer
with his skinny jeans and lush hair would be in more danger of that—but the
man’s touch still reminded her of being licked by a snake.

“You know, it’s been nice of you
to put me up, but I have a comfortable place of my own. I’d get much better
sleep if I were in my own bed at my loft.”

“That could be arranged.”

She flashed a hopeful stare. “It
could?”

“Certainly. I’m not a monster,
Luna. And you’re not a prisoner. In the interest of your safety, however, we’ll
send Vadim along for the night. I’m quite certain he’d like to see your little loft.”

She moved back from him by a
step, gulping against a wave of helpless anger. Damn it, she should be used to
the stuff by now, but it coiled just as painfully in her stomach as the first
time she’d let Mua lay out this crazy plan. But if everything worked…

When
everything
worked…

Zeke would be hers.

For that, she’d risk a damn
ulcer.

For that, she’d let Mua plant a
whole cactus garden in her stomach lining.

She raised her head and met the
man’s refined gaze. Then took a huge breath. Another.

“Which way did you say my room
was?”

Rayna had never been so happy to
see the gatehouse at Sage and Garrett’s place.

The drive down from the cabin had
been a giant training game in the art of awkward. And awful. After Zeke filled
her in on the jaw-dropping news from the call with Garrett, he’d all but
ordered her into a shower so they could get on the road as soon as possible. He
assured her he’d clean up downstairs and leave her alone to bathe and change.
She’d gone without questioning, though stopped at the top of the flight to
sneak in a peek while he wasn’t looking. She wished she hadn’t. He scrubbed the
dining room table where they’d shared so much passion as if it were now a
murder scene.

She’d sobbed through every minute
of the shower.

Things got even weirder during
the trip itself. Z went straight for the Friend Zone as soon as they hit the
main road, talking back to the radio DJs with dry one-liners and even asking if
she was looking forward to seeing her own bed again. She’d managed an evasive
hum as a reply—while her chest imploded and her muscles constricted with the
effort not to bawl all over again.

Medically, she knew what was
happening. She’d existed on a mental diet of adrenalin, endorphins, and
exhilaration for five days, an emotional sugar high from which she now crashed.
Hurray, she got an
A
on that test—which her heart immediately pleated
into an airplane and hurled. He asked about her damn bed? How was she supposed
to
look
at her bed again without remembering him in it with her, warming
every corner with his big, magnificent body? How was she supposed to sleep at
all without aching for his arms around her, his legs entwined with hers, his
lips on her neck?

Was she supposed to think of
taking another step as this new person she’d become without his touch to guide
her?

The man apparently had an answer
for that.

Z threw the subject into the
conversation between a bouncy tune by the newest pop-folk darlings and one of
her favorite wailing Halestorm songs. Talk about perfect. Or pathetic. Or both.

I like the kick
in the face…

She got the rundown of the Doms
at the club who’d be “ideal fits” for her.

Just know that
I’ll make you hurt…

Then the list of things she’d
need to go over with Sage, along with “any other pertinent questions” she had.

When you say
you’ll make it worse…

She’d see, he told her. She’d be
challenged. She’d grow. She’d be happy. And when he got back from this mission
and showed up at the club again, she’d thank him for doing this for her. She’d
tell him he was right about this.

She’d answered him by twisting
the Volume knob higher.

I don’t miss
you, I miss the misery!

Maybe if she let the radio scream
it loud enough, she’d believe it.

As the song ended, Z threw the
Jag into park in front of Garrett and Sage’s condo.

“Yo, Fashion Sparkle Zekie! You
made it!”

Garrett’s warm Iowa accent broke
into their thick tension. He’d just finished the quip when Sage’s squee of
delight pierced the air, too. Rayna looked up and smiled. Her friend’s energy
was always contagious, though today Sage seemed ready to make the jump to light
speed from it. Her dark blond hair was pulled into a cute, messy bun and she
wore a butter-colored sweater that enhanced the tawny glow in her skin.

“Hiiiiii!”

Sage pulled the Jag’s door open
and hauled Rayna into a hug. They pulled away and looked each other over out of
habit, though now it was nice to see her friend covered in happiness and a few new
curves instead of bug bites and plant scratches.

“Hi, yourself,” Rayna returned.
“Wow. Sweetie, you look great.”

Sage grinned. “You took the words
out of my mouth. Hmmm. Maybe Zekie should haul your ass up that mountain more
often.” Her smile turned into a wince as she glanced over to Z. “And while you’re
there, you can find a discreet way to burn some of those shirts.”

Zeke tugged at the collar of his button-front
shirt, swirled with a pattern of bright red and yellow squares separated by
blue starfish. “I knew you’d like this one, Sage.”

Sage rolled her eyes and tugged
Rayna toward the door. “Sure. I’m completely into the ‘Picasso meets Sesame Street’
thing.”

Rayna joined her friend in a devilish
giggle. She looked back, wondering what her open taunt would incite in Z now,
if anything. She hoped for anything other than the fake grin he’d been flashing
since they passed Lake Stevens.

He wasn’t grinning.

He stared at her with such deep
intent she wondered how a hole hadn’t burned open in the back of her head. His
lips parted to reveal his locked teeth. In an instant she was mentally back at
his feet, kneeling between his legs, gazing at his face as he prepared to lower
her mouth onto his body. Bound to him. Connected.

His.

She released a deep sigh.
Attempted a little smile.

He tightened his jaw and looked
away.

She swallowed and told her heart
it was time to stop beating again.

That was actually a good move,
considering the scene she walked into next.

She assumed Sage and Garrett’s
living room was still in here somewhere. Yards and yards of dark gold tulle
were strewn everywhere. Half a dozen gold urns, at least five feet high each,
stood in a sentry line in front of the fireplace. More tulle spilled from them.
Hanging on a portable clothing rack near them were at least ten formal dresses
in different styles, all in royal purple. On the lawn outside, overlooking the
complex’s lake and swimming dock, there was a natural wood arch half-decorated in
flowing bows of the same color.

“What the hell?” Zeke finally
stammered. “You two having a party?”

Every female instinct in Rayna’s
body shouted the correct answer to that, but this wasn’t her moment to spill.
She grinned at Sage in expectant glee. The little blond danced over to her
fiancé and dipped her head against his chest, openly imploring him to drop the
bomb on Z.

“Dumb ass,” Garrett muttered.
“We’re having a
wedding
.”

Zeke’s face lit up with a grin.
“Serious? Now?”

“Tomorrow,” Sage supplied. “Late
morning, before the snow gets here. Surprise!” After Rayna crossed to her and
they exchanged a squealing hug, she added, “Now you know why we needed you two
to get back here!”

“Why?”

Rayna blurted it at the same time
as Z. They shared a small chuckle because of it. And damn, it felt nice.
Garrett and Sage swiftly followed with bigger laughs.

“You really are a dork sometimes.”
Garrett shook his head at his friend. He followed by clapping a hand to Z’s
shoulder. “Hayes, you’re my best friend. You’ve saved my ass more times than I
can count. So will you protect it one more time by being my best man and making
sure I don’t fuck this thing up?”

Z’s face widened with a soft
smile. “Fuck, yeah. I’d be honored.” His voice was hoarse as he pulled Garrett
into a fierce hug.

Sage approached Rayna with a trio
of playful glides. “And Sergeant Chestain, you’re
my
best friend. So—”

“I’d love to!” Her voice cracked
with happy tears as she and Sage gripped each other tight.

Zeke erupted with a growl while
fingering the fresh bandage she’d applied to his back this morning. “All right,
all right, now that we’ve had the waterworks, let’s get to the fun.” He rubbed
his hands together. “Grab some beers, dude, and let’s go outside to plot the
bachelor party.”

“No,” Sage interjected. She poked
his chest with one hand and Garrett’s with the other. “As soon as the other
guys get here, you’re going to go pick up Z’s dress blues then take both sets
to the dry cleaners.
Make sure
you expedite the cleaning. After that,
you’re picking out the cake and the guest book, going to the printer for the
programs, helping Garrett with the playlist for the DJ, setting up the canopy over
the patio—”

They all laughed when Garrett
snatched Sage by the wrist, grabbed the list she’d been reading, and gave her
bottom a fast but hard smack.

“Hey! I wasn’t done!”

“Yeah, you were.” Garrett kissed
her hard, his eyes turning to bright blue flames with possession.

“But—ow!” She squirmed as he dug
a deep pinch into one of her ass cheeks. Beneath her breath, she seethed, “You
know
that hurts after this morning.”

Garrett gloated. “Uh-huh.”

Rayna, buoyed by the joyful
atmosphere, couldn’t help rocking on her heels and murmuring in a sing-song,
“Topping from the bottom…never a good idea.”

Sage’s stunned stare got to her
first. Garrett’s was a half second behind. In tandem, they swung their looks to
Zeke. Rayna twisted her lips to stifle a chuckle. She’d call him a deer in the
headlights but the analogy was all wrong for Z. By the time she decided on
moose in the headlights, he’d plastered on a recovery grin, directing it right
at Sage.

“Okay, back to the important
shit. You’re not the least bit interested in planning the
bachelorette
party,
Sergeant Weston?”

At that, Sage’s transformed. Her
friend tossed Garrett a quiet, knowing look before responding. “Not going to be
one, Z.” She lifted a hand to her stomach. “Mommies have to be careful about
how they define ‘party,’ you know.”

Rayna was certain her gape was
similar to Zeke’s. “Oh my God…Sage!” She hugged her friend again. “Really?”

Zeke repeated his own embrace
with Garrett. “You humping bunny bastard.”

Garrett chuckled. “Yeah, yeah;
okay. But now you know why we’re rushing this thing.” He gathered Sage close
and kissed her forehead tenderly. “My family needs to be protected…just in case
the bad guys win on this mission.”

“Shut your hole.” Zeke whacked
his shoulder. “The bad guys are going to eat our shit for breakfast. Lunch and
dinner, too.”

As if cued into action by those
words, there was a testosterone-filled din at the condo’s front door. Seconds
later, even the tulle, the urns, and the rack of dresses couldn’t drown the
potent masculinity that dominated the air. Rayna felt her chest fill with quiet
pride as Z greeted his men. As usual, Tait and Kell were practically attached
at the hip; it made sense since they were the sniper team of the unit. Z gave
an especially tight hug to Rhett Lange, which made sense considering the guy’s
technical prowess had saved Z’s life—and probably her own. Next down the line
was Rebel Stafford, who more than lived up to his name with his sinful black
stare and double tattooed sleeves. Finally Zeke got to Ethan Archer, who’d been
trying to blend into the wall. Not likely, considering the man often passed for
a model with his chiseled features and stunning blue eyes.

She stepped close to Sage. “Are
they
all
going to be in the wedding?”

Her friend giggled. “Only Zeke.
They just wanted to be here when you and Z got back. And yeah, they’ll likely
coerce Garrett into some kind of a night out as his last hurrah of freedom.”

Rayna smiled, though her eyes
didn’t leave Zeke. She didn’t get to watch him very often without him knowing
about it. The way he appreciated each of his men, focusing intently when they
spoke to him…no wonder they’d follow him into the bowels of hell if he asked.

No wonder she’d fall to her knees
again for him in an instant.

“I think it’s just what he
needed,” she murmured to Sage before releasing a long sigh. “I’m just so glad
my brothers aren’t on their heels.”

Her friend looked down fast and
toed the carpet. “Uh, yeah. About that…”

Rayna wheeled on her. “Sage!”

The woman shot her bridal-manicured
hands into the air. “They’ve been calling every half hour! What was I supposed
to say?”

Before Rayna could pound her
friend with another word of castigation, more wild male energy burst through
the door. She inhaled hard and braced herself. The seven warriors watched their
legion double as her brothers poured into the room.

Arah got to her first. “Thank fuck,”
he muttered, yanking her off her feet in a crushing hug. The others piled on
top of him, gripping her from four different directions to make sure she was
all right. They were all there—minus one.

“Hey,” she muttered after shying
away from Jenner and his fish stink, “Where’s Trevor?”

Her brothers shared a significant
smile. They peeled back so she got a clear look across the room.

Shit.

Trev was in the kitchen facing
off against Zeke.

She smacked Jenner and Arah at
the same time. “Are you freaking insane? I’m sure Sage told you they’re
planning a wedding here, assholes.” She pushed them back so she could start
stalking across the living room at her brother and her—

Damn. What did she call Zeke now?

It didn’t matter. If Trevor laid
one hand on Z and screwed up these memories for Sage and Garrett, she swore he
was getting deleted off her phone, locked out of her house, and blacklisted
from—