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“You son of a bitch. You broke my nose,” Dante huffed as one of the soldiers jerked him to his feet. He yanked his arm away, giving me then Maddox a nasty look. “This isn’t over.”
“Like hell it’s not,” Maddox snarled. He remained turned in the opposite direction, following the trail as the soldiers grabbed Dante by both arms, dragging him out of the room. When he turned toward me, his chest was still heaving from rage, not from exertion. With a single long stride, he closed the distance, lifting my chin with a single finger. “Are you hurt, Zoe? Did those fuckers injure you in any way?”
“No. I’m fine.” I was still stuck in a fog, longing to find the right words to thank him.
The moment was captured in time, frozen as if we had no clue what to say to each other. I couldn’t help myself, dragging my gaze down from his face, swallowing hard as I fought the desire spinning like a tornado all throughout my system.
He rubbed my cheek and the feeling and warmth was entirely different. He’d rarely touched me, had done everything in his power to keep his distance. I couldn’t help tingling from excitement, fighting the nerves and uncertainty.
“I could have killed that bastard,” he said in a gruff voice.
“You’re not a killer, at least not really.”
“If you think that then you really don’t know me.”
“I know enough.”I want to learn much more.I dared not say that to him. The sweet moment lingered, his touch becoming more heated than it had been before.
When he took a deep breath, the beautiful spell was broken, the rugged man pulling his hand away as the mask was shoved back in position.
“Go enjoy the party, sweetheart. I’ll handle the fuckers. My way.” Now there was a sharp edge to his voice, his chest rising and falling from continued anger.
Nodding, I started to walk away then without thinking about it, I pressed both hands against his chest, rising onto my tiptoes and kissing his cheek. When I pulled away, he turned his head and our lips brushed together. I was caught in the moment, unable to move. He instantly tensed just like he’d done years before and I took two purposeful steps back, trying to break the mesmerizing hold. “Thank you.” As I walked out, I refused to look at him again.
But dear God, I hungered for him, the longing leaving me aching inside. I had a chance to tell him how I felt, doing what I could to help him see that I was a woman now, but I’d chickened out.
Some defiant, brave girl I was.
Stupid. Stupid.
I headed away from the room, needing some air and time to myself. There was only one place that I could achieve both, aswell as a little peace. I moved toward the kitchen, easily able to make my way to the back corridor leading to the laundry room and the exit toward the garden. There was so much activity that no one paid any attention as I slipped through, opening the door and disappearing outside into the darkness.
The light breeze allowed scents of night-blooming jasmine and other flowers to tickle my nose, the twinkling lights in the trees providing enough light to make my way to the cobblestone path. My favorite place in the entire world was the greenhouse that I’d heard my mother had adored as well. There was something so special about seeing flowers grow from seeds or tiny plants to the point they were almost taking over every shelf, adding color and warmth to the typically austere environment.
I glanced over my shoulder before moving inside, softly closing the door behind me. There was no need to turn on the light. I preferred the natural glow provided by the full moon, the shadows the darkness provided allowing me to hide like I used to so many years before. “How are all the beautiful plants today?” I asked, as I used to do as when I was younger. I milled through the aisles, touching one then the other. I’d learned about plants, enjoying digging my fingers in potting soil and dirt for as long as I could remember. My father used to tease me about appreciating mud pies, whatever that meant.
They were good times, simple times. The memories had followed me to college. I’d been so eager to forge my own way, I’d almost forgotten how much I loved this place, the beauty and tranquility offering me solace. I turned in a full circle, trying to figure out why everything seemed so difficult lately, including making choices for my future. After a few minutes, I finally sat down on the small bench my father had built for the younger version of me. It creaked from age, but it was as comfortable asI remembered. The corner setting was my favorite place to hide since it was located in the back of the greenhouse, hidden by the tropical plants and flowers.
Maybe I hadn’t chosen my career because in truth, I’d always wanted to work in my family’s business, continuing on with the legacy started generations before. My father had forbidden me, as if by being a woman, I was too fragile. I knew he wanted to protect me, but I was quite capable of handling whatever was tossed in my direction. Some moments of my life brought far too many memories, fear of the unknown regarding my future always present.
I wasn’t certain how much time had passed but almost as soon as I closed my eyes, I sensed a presence and jerked to a standing position. The slight creak of the greenhouse door wasn’t something I’d imagined, the closure a noise I recognized. Since I couldn’t make out the entrance from where I stood, the hair on the back of my neck stood up on end.
The place was much closer to the outskirts of the estate property, the road leading into the city of New Orleans just behind us. My father had always warned me not to come out here at night. Even though he’d installed cameras, there was a thick forest surrounding a good portion of the estate, allowing for the ability to remain hidden while easily firing off a weapon. Fear skittered down my spine and I was resistant to call out, terrified that Dante or the other asshole had found me, making good on his ugly threat.
Swallowing hard, I noticed a few tools in a rack only a few feet away. I moved quickly and silently, grabbing a long spade with my shaking fingers. As I crept forward, I held it with both hands, prepared to strike if necessary. I moved down one of the aisles,trying to step quietly across the gravel path. I heard nothing else, but I knew someone was there. Hiding. Waiting.
Ready to pounce.
I rounded a corner and the second I noticed someone in the shadows with a gun in his hand, I swung the implement, cracking the asshole directly in the center of his back. Down the fucker went, the gun flying out of his hand. I leapt over him, trying to get away before he had a chance to regroup but he was too quick for me, snagging my ankle, bringing me to my knees. The spade flew out of my hands, and I watched as if in slow motion as it turned three times before tumbling to the earth.
Yelping, I fought to get out of his hold, kicking and connecting with my other foot.
He easily flipped me over, pressing the full weight of his body against mine, yanking my arms over my head. “Stop fighting me, Zoe.”
His deep baritone was recognizable anywhere, the sound floating over me like a warm blanket on a cold winter’s night. I was lost in the moment, the trickle of moonlight allowing me to see the darkness in his eyes. But this time there was more than concern or anger in them. There was lust, complex and unbridled lust.
I took gasping breaths, my throat tightening as I stared up at him. Maybe I believed in fantasies or possibly a little bit of magic. Or maybe I was a little bit cuckoo. Whatever the case, the feel of his chiseled body, his rock-hard cock throbbing from the same intense electrified desire coursing through me left nothing to the imagination.
He could no longer deny the way he felt about me.
