Page 14 of A Kiss Stolen


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The old guilt eats away mercilessly at me.

I hold my head in my hands. God, the past is still so alive in my head. It is ugly and no matter how hard I try I can’t get away from it. Three years ago, as I was about to enter a restaurant an old gypsy woman on the sidewalk grabbed my hand. “Buy a flower from me. For good luck,” she crowed. I wanted to push her grubby hand away, but I was mesmerized. It was like looking into my mother’s eyes again. I pushed a couple of hundred pound notes towards her. She held out the flower. “You become the thing you fight,” she warned. I didn’t take the flower. But she was right. I’ve fought with the past for so long it now lives inside me.

I walk to the window and look out into the darkness. The image of Liliana comes into my mind. I think of the uncontrollable way my body reacts to her, and the way I fell so peacefully asleep in her arms. It was the best night I can remember having. I remember the way she had broken apart under me. She didn’t hold back. She welcomed me into her body and let me have it all.

She loved it.

But the plan was to torture her as I fucked her. To make her as miserable as I am. And for her to hate every moment of her punishment, and even for myself. I didn’t want to get anything out of it but the satisfaction of revenge. The ability to know it is done and walk away a free man. Leave the past behind. Instead, we found indescribable bliss in each other’s bodies. In those moments it renders my years of hatred completely pointless.

Chapter Seventeen

Brand

I walk into the house just a little past midnight to the sound of laughter. It startles me so much I instantly freeze on the spot. I have never heard laughter in this house before. The voices keep speaking and I immediately recognize them to be Lindy and Liliana.

What the fuck?

With a frown I head towards the kitchen and push open the door. The sight that greets me is one of such domestic bliss that it steals my breath away. If only such a thing was truly possible for me. I have interrupted Liliana and Lindy while they are busy decorating a cake.

My eyes zero in on Liliana. She is wearing one of Lindy’s aprons, her cheeks are pink with the heat from the oven, and there is flour or icing sugar on one of them. Her mouth is as red as the strawberries they are using to decorate the frosted cake. At the chill in my eyes the smile disappears from her face.

“Brand,” Lindy calls, and I am forced to drag my gaze away from Liliana’s.

She smiles uncertainly. “I’ve made Lancashire hotpot and added extra peppers for you.”

“Thank you.” I turn towards Liliana again and my voice immediately hardens. “Can I see you for a moment in my study?”

Liliana and Lindy exchange a look before Liliana wipes her hand on a cloth, removes her apron and puts it on the counter, before walking up to me. Shit, she is wearing one of the dresses I ordered for her and the way her hot curves fill it make my eyes water.

I hold the door open for her and she goes through it. We walk in silence down empty corridors. I want to look at her, but I don’t let myself. I open my study door and I see her swallow before she walks into the lion’s den. I close the door and lean against it. I watch her buttocks move through the thin material of her dress as she walks on ahead.

She stops in the middle of the room, turns towards me and gazes directly into my eyes, and even though she is trying to act confident, I can see uncertainty in her face. She doesn’t know what I want or how she should act.

A weird thing happens at that moment, I suddenly realize that I am afraid of her. Of her power over me. And that infuriates me. I am the powerful one here, not her. She is my prey. I can do anything I want to her. I can make her suck my cock right now if I so desire it.

“What have I done wrong now?” she asks quietly. She is calm, but I am not. This is not at all how I planned it. I am supposed to be the one with all the control and she is the one who is supposed to be helplessly at my mercy.

“How dare you laugh?” I ask furiously.

She blinks in surprise.

“Is this a guest house to you? Do you think you’re on vacation? Sitting in the kitchen laughing and joking with my staff.”

I see her eyes flash with temper. Good. She should be angry too. Because I fucking am. “Vacation? Are you kidding me?”

“Who fucking let you out of your room?”

She lifts her chin proudly. “Lindy invited me to help her out. If you don’t want it to happen then you should speak to her.”

All I can think about as I watch her is just how beautiful she is, and it causes my temper to rise even more at my lack of self-control. Our night together comes back, and instantly sends a painful shot of arousal straight to my groin that steals my breath.

“You want to hurt me,” she says. “Fine, but first, I need you to finish the story you started. What happened to you and your family after you left my home that day? Tell me about your mother.”

My hands clench painfully into fists by my side. There she goes again. Taking the initiative. Who the fuck gave her the impression she could demand anything? She is my prisoner.

She shifts her weight from one leg to the other. “Mrs. Parks told me a bit about—”

“Shut the bloody hell up!” I roar, my heart pounding within my chest. I do not even know when I move but in an instant I am on her, my hands gripping her waist as I rush her backwards and slam her against the wall behind her.

She cries out at the pain, and her hands pull at my wrist to loosen my hold. She claws at my flesh, and when I refuse to set her free, she strikes a bloody slap across my face. It barely registers.

“You do not have the right to ask me about anything,” I say between gritted teeth. “Don’t ever dare talk about my mother again. Do you understand me?”

She takes a deep breath and nods.

Chapter Eighteen

Brand

9 years ago

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rPab0qMd-V4

My father was furious with me in the truck. He kept taking his hand of the steering wheel to take a swipe at my head. I stared straight ahead. I didn’t care if he was angry. Liliana Eden was mine. All mine. One day I intended to marry that girl.

“I cannot believe I sired such a dolt. Look at you. Who the feck do ya think ya are? Kissing Jake Eden’s daughter. Do you know who he is?”

I didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t understand.

“I’m talking to you. Answer me, boy.”

I turned to face my father. “Yeah, I know he is rich, Da, but I can be rich one day too.”

My father got so angry his eyes almost popped out of his head. The truck swerved and someone blew their horn at him. He hung his head out of his car and turned the air blue with curses. They shot past him in fear.

“He’s not rich. He’s filthy rich, and he’s also a cold-blooded killer.”

I stared at my father in a mixture of confusion and suspicion. Was he just saying that because he wanted me to stay away from Mr. Eden’s daughter? “You’re lying. Mr. Eden is a businessman.”

My father sneered. “So now you think you’re so grown up you know better than me, eh? Let me tell you, you little upstart. Once that businessman was known as Crystal Jake the ruthless gangster and smuggler. When he was your age he was already tying rocks to men’s feet and throwing them into the Thames. All of North London belonged to him for ten years. He was so ferocious no one dared to challenge him. He was gunning for the West too, when he met his woman. He gave it up then and went legit, but a leopard never changes its spots. He would slit your throat without a second thought before he’d let you lay one dirty finger on his daughter. She is his favorite. Do ya get what I’m saying, boy?”

All this was news to me. Jake Eden a gangster? I thought of his eyes, how cold and utterly without emotion they had been when he came to tell my father what I had done to his daughter. I realized my da was not lying, but it didn’t change a thing. “I’ll take my chances,” I insisted stubbornly.

“Jesus fucking Ch

rist. Are you the most pig-headed fool in the universe, or am I talking to a two block of wood held together with one nail here?”

“Da, I’m gonna marry that girl. You’ll see.”

My father swallowed with rage. One of his hands left the steering wheel and shots straight for my head. He boxed my ear so hard I heard a ringing in my head. “Any more talk like that I swear I’ll kill ya, myself.”

I said nothing. Just stared straight ahead. As soon as the truck hit the gravel of the road where our caravan was parked, I opened the door, and jumped out, rolling to break my fall. I could hear my father shouting curses at me. I stood up and dusted myself off. I saw my mother open our caravan door.

“What’s going on?” she shouted.

My father parked the truck and made his way towards me. I stood my ground. He grabbed me by the neck and forced me back to our little home.

“What’s going on?” Ma asked worriedly.

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