Page 114
Story: Wicked and Claimed
Nash winced. He’d known she would get to this question, but he’d hoped to have more time to win back her trust before he had to undermine it again. “I thought that name might set you at ease if you already ‘knew’ me from Crime Solvers International.”
Hurt filled her eyes. “So…when I was talking to you, telling you my feelings and secrets…that was you? You catfished me and pretended to be a stranger? Youliedto me?”
“You wouldn’t talk to me. I wanted to know where your head was. If there was still hope. If you still cared.”
“Let me get this straight: you hoped to rekindle things between us by deceiving me?” She tried to push him away.
Nash wasn’t having it. He couldn’t with all the cameras.
He pressed her wrists against the shower tiles and plastered her body with his. “I’m sorry.”
When he lowered his mouth to hers, she turned her head. “Don’t.”
Why was everything with Haisley one step forward and two steps back?
Normally, he’d let her cool down, but with cameras all over the place, he didn’t have that luxury. “We need to table this discussion until we’re safe. Or did you forget where we are?”
“Of course not,” she hissed. “But?—”
“Your ‘owner’ would never allow such defiance,” he reminded her sharply, swiping his tongue up her neck.
She pursed her lips angrily but nodded. They stood under the spray in tense silence, steam rising around them.
Nash’s mind drifted to the auction, to Gray’s words about her history. He probably shouldn’t ask when she was already hurt and angry, when the night had been so long and harrowing. But if her past presented any danger to their present, he needed to know. And the question was eating him alive.
“What they said during the auction…” he began carefully. “Your previous pregnancy. Was that true?”
The color drained from her face. Despite the hot water cascading over them, her skin turned cold.
Without a word, she wrenched away, nearly slipping in her haste to escape. He watched, gut twisting, as she wrapped herself in a silk robe with trembling hands and fled to the bedroom. He cut off the shower and followed, towel around his waist, to find her staring out the window at the moonlit ocean, arms wrapped protectively around her middle.
“Listen…” He stepped behind her, taking her hips in his hands.
She stiffened and refused to look at him.
The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken words. As frustrating as it was, they had zero privacy out of the shower. In the thick of the night wasn’t the time to push her, especially since they were both running on zero sleep.
Tamping down his frustration, he pulled her to the bed and wrapped himself around her, his gaze promising that he’d extract answers later. “Close your eyes. Rest.”
She raised her chin in defiance and fought him. But he was bigger, stronger. She soon realized the futility of pushing him away and rolled to her side with a huff, curling into a ball.
With a growl, he dragged her against his naked body. His mind raced. She hadn’t denied being pregnant at some point in the past. But when? And…by whom? If it had been his child, she would have told him. Wouldn’t she?
Soon, he’d need that answer—and they’d have to deal with everything that had happened on that goddamn stage. Once this nightmare fucking ended, they’d tackle whatever had caused her to run from him two years ago. He loved her. He wanted to spend his life with her. She couldn’t keep running from the truth. He couldn’t allow it.
He just prayed they both lived long enough to reconcile everything causing this rift between them.
* * *
Pink tinged the horizon the following morning as Nash followed the curved path to the beach, bare feet sinking into sand still cool from the night. The rising sun painted the Caribbean waters gold.
A beautiful view that felt obscene, given the horrors that happened in this place.
Haisley had finally fallen into an exhausted sleep, curled tightly against his chest, until he’d carefully extracted himself. He hated to leave her alone and potentially vulnerable, but duty called.
Near the private dock, he spotted Ethan. Kaylee shivered beside him in a borrowed sundress that hung loose on her delicate frame, arms wrapped around herself protectively. The barrettes pinning back her dark hair made her look impossibly young in the dawning light. Dark circles shadowed eyes haunted by trauma. Her parents must be out of their minds with worry.
Kane materialized from the shadows of a palm grove to join them, his expensive loafers clicking on the wooden pier before he positioned himself close enough to Kaylee to make her flinch. He pasted on a predatory smile that was pure performance as he ran a finger down her arm. “Quite a prize, Fischer. Sure you don’t want to share before you go? She still looks deliciously innocent. If you didn’t give her a proper deflowering, I will.”
Hurt filled her eyes. “So…when I was talking to you, telling you my feelings and secrets…that was you? You catfished me and pretended to be a stranger? Youliedto me?”
“You wouldn’t talk to me. I wanted to know where your head was. If there was still hope. If you still cared.”
“Let me get this straight: you hoped to rekindle things between us by deceiving me?” She tried to push him away.
Nash wasn’t having it. He couldn’t with all the cameras.
He pressed her wrists against the shower tiles and plastered her body with his. “I’m sorry.”
When he lowered his mouth to hers, she turned her head. “Don’t.”
Why was everything with Haisley one step forward and two steps back?
Normally, he’d let her cool down, but with cameras all over the place, he didn’t have that luxury. “We need to table this discussion until we’re safe. Or did you forget where we are?”
“Of course not,” she hissed. “But?—”
“Your ‘owner’ would never allow such defiance,” he reminded her sharply, swiping his tongue up her neck.
She pursed her lips angrily but nodded. They stood under the spray in tense silence, steam rising around them.
Nash’s mind drifted to the auction, to Gray’s words about her history. He probably shouldn’t ask when she was already hurt and angry, when the night had been so long and harrowing. But if her past presented any danger to their present, he needed to know. And the question was eating him alive.
“What they said during the auction…” he began carefully. “Your previous pregnancy. Was that true?”
The color drained from her face. Despite the hot water cascading over them, her skin turned cold.
Without a word, she wrenched away, nearly slipping in her haste to escape. He watched, gut twisting, as she wrapped herself in a silk robe with trembling hands and fled to the bedroom. He cut off the shower and followed, towel around his waist, to find her staring out the window at the moonlit ocean, arms wrapped protectively around her middle.
“Listen…” He stepped behind her, taking her hips in his hands.
She stiffened and refused to look at him.
The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken words. As frustrating as it was, they had zero privacy out of the shower. In the thick of the night wasn’t the time to push her, especially since they were both running on zero sleep.
Tamping down his frustration, he pulled her to the bed and wrapped himself around her, his gaze promising that he’d extract answers later. “Close your eyes. Rest.”
She raised her chin in defiance and fought him. But he was bigger, stronger. She soon realized the futility of pushing him away and rolled to her side with a huff, curling into a ball.
With a growl, he dragged her against his naked body. His mind raced. She hadn’t denied being pregnant at some point in the past. But when? And…by whom? If it had been his child, she would have told him. Wouldn’t she?
Soon, he’d need that answer—and they’d have to deal with everything that had happened on that goddamn stage. Once this nightmare fucking ended, they’d tackle whatever had caused her to run from him two years ago. He loved her. He wanted to spend his life with her. She couldn’t keep running from the truth. He couldn’t allow it.
He just prayed they both lived long enough to reconcile everything causing this rift between them.
* * *
Pink tinged the horizon the following morning as Nash followed the curved path to the beach, bare feet sinking into sand still cool from the night. The rising sun painted the Caribbean waters gold.
A beautiful view that felt obscene, given the horrors that happened in this place.
Haisley had finally fallen into an exhausted sleep, curled tightly against his chest, until he’d carefully extracted himself. He hated to leave her alone and potentially vulnerable, but duty called.
Near the private dock, he spotted Ethan. Kaylee shivered beside him in a borrowed sundress that hung loose on her delicate frame, arms wrapped around herself protectively. The barrettes pinning back her dark hair made her look impossibly young in the dawning light. Dark circles shadowed eyes haunted by trauma. Her parents must be out of their minds with worry.
Kane materialized from the shadows of a palm grove to join them, his expensive loafers clicking on the wooden pier before he positioned himself close enough to Kaylee to make her flinch. He pasted on a predatory smile that was pure performance as he ran a finger down her arm. “Quite a prize, Fischer. Sure you don’t want to share before you go? She still looks deliciously innocent. If you didn’t give her a proper deflowering, I will.”
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