CAPTURED: 9 Alpha Bad-Boys(127)
She'd been in the park, last she could remember. Hadn't the trees just been chasing her? It seemed like a stupid thing to be pondering, but that's what they'd been doing.
She reached behind her head where she remembered bashing it in under the water. There was no bandages covering her hair, only a slight bump. No bigger than a mosquito bite. After falling fifty feet into water and rocks, that shouldn't have been possible. It wasn't possible.
"You have risen."
Diana spun, her eyes wide and heart surging into her throat so fast her head rushed from the adrenaline.
A man, in incredibly large, handsome man, stood between the uneven rock that acted as her doorway. The long curtain that was her door pushed to the side by his outstretched hand, connected to a well muscled arm, as he leaned against the stone frame. He was half naked, wearing only a pair of boots and brown leather pants that were tight on his thick, muscular thighs. That left practically nothing to her imagination as far as how his body looked.
Wide shoulders tapered down to slim hips. He had abs so deep she thought she could climb them like a ladder, and a chest so large it reminded her of a cover model on the old romance novels in the library. His muscles shined bright with a thin layer of sweat, as though he'd just come in from a jog. Long, red-brown hair that nearly matched the stone fell to his bare shoulders in crooked waves.
He. Was. Huge.
His eyes, those big eyes that were the same color as his hair, were half lidded with lust. That musky smell she'd inhaled during her dream was back, and it was making her own body react to him. Her sex swelled and her nipples tightened. A wolfish smile pulled on his full lips. They were puffed out and ever so slightly reddened in the way that happened when someone used their teeth to bite down on them. They looked like he'd been kissed, recently.
"Finally, I have been kept waiting for you, princess. It was difficult with the noise you made."
He spoke with an accent she couldn't place. So strange, but it was so familiar. She must've heard it in a movie sometime before, but she was hardly worried about that right now. Diana's dream came back to her as harshly as a slap to her face.
Her dream, the sexy dream with a sexy someone, had not only been a dream, but a recollection of something she'd done. With him. And she was still in the man's bed.
# # #
Debt Inheritance
Pepper Winters
Jethro Hawk receives Nila as an inheritance present on his twenty-ninth birthday. Her life is his until she's paid off a debt that's centuries old. He can do what he likes with her-nothing is out of bounds-she has to obey.
There are no rules. Only payments.
Copyright 2014 Pepper Winters
Table of Contents
Chapter 1-Jethro
Chapter 2-Nila
Chapter 3-Jethro
Chapter 4-Nila
Chapter 5-Jethro
Chapter 6-Nila
Chapter 7-Jethro
Chapter 8-Nila
Chapter 9-Jethro
Chapter 10-Nila
Chapter 11-Jethro
Chapter 12-Nila
Chapter 13-Jethro
Chapter 14-Nila
Chapter 15-Jethro
Chapter 16-Nila
About The Author
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THE WORLD WAS a dangerous place, but I was worse.
The human race left the dark ages behind-technology improved and ruined our lives in equal measure, and the devils in society hid with better camouflage.
As the years rolled by, and we left our barbaric ways behind, people forgot about the shadows lurking in plain sight. Men like me morphed into predators in sheep's clothing. We preyed on the weak with no apology, and everything landed in our fucking laps. Civilization cloaked us, hiding the animals at heart.
We traded caveman mentality and murder for suits and softly spoken curses. I hid my true temper beneath a veil of decorum. I mastered the art of suave.
People who knew me said I was a gentleman. They called me distinguished, accomplished, and shrewd.
I was all of those things, but none of them. We might live in a civilized world, but rules and laws didn't apply to me. I was a rule-breaker, curse-maker, life-stealer.
The projection was a farce-but even the worst of us had someone who owned us. Whether family, honour, or duty.
I'd embraced my inner barbarian, yet was governed by a hierarchy and when the Hawk matriarch snapped her fingers, we all came running.
Including my arsehole of a father, Bryan Hawk.
There, in the cigar and cognac laced library, I learned a truth that forever changed my life.
And hers.
My family owned another.
An IOU on their entire existence.
To this day, I didn't know why, and I didn't bother asking.
Who gave a shit why a wealthy family called the Weavers were indebted to us? Who gave a damn that they'd royally fucked off my family and earned the wrath of my ancestors?
All I cared about was the news I'd inherited something more than just money, possessions, or titles.
My twenty-ninth birthday gave me a pet. A toy.
A responsibility I didn't want.
Debts I had to extract from unwilling flesh.
A job to uphold our family honour.
Nila Weaver.
One mistake six hundred years ago put a curse on her entire family.
One mistake sold her life to me in a mountain of unpayable debt.
I inherited her.
I preyed on her.
I owned her life and had the piece of paper to prove it.
Nila Weaver.
Mine.
And my task …
…
…
devour her.
"TOLD YOU THIS collection would be your break, Threads."
I smiled, not taking my eyes off the model prancing down the runway. My stomach churned like an overworked loom with stress and adrenaline.
"Don't jinx it. There's still the couture collection to go." I flinched as the model sashayed too much, wobbling in the insanely high heels I'd buckled to her feet.
My cell-phone buzzed in the only place I had available in this dress-my cleavage.
No, no. Not now.
I'd been waiting to hear from him for two days. Lying in bed in the fancy hotel, willing my phone to chime, granting me the intoxicating rush of flirtation. But nothing. Not a peep.
A month of this … what was this? It wasn't a relationship. Liaison? Nameless courtship? I had no name for the craziness I indulged in. I panted for scraps of communication like a high-school wallflower.
It's time to end it.
Another message vibrated, shattering my willpower to ignore him with his impeccable timing-as usual.
"You know the couture line will raise the roof. Stop being modest." Vaughn nudged my shoulder with his.
Ignoring my brother and the suddenly heavy cell-phone, I winced as the model flicked her hair pirouetting at the end of the runway, before flouncing away in a whirl of pink silk.
Too much attitude for that dress. I shook my head, stopping the inner monologue that never shut up when it came to models flaunting my creations.
"I don't know anything anymore. Stop nettling me, V. Let me focus."
Vaughn scowled. "I don't know why you're so worried. Cheque books are already open. You'll see."
Another message arrived, sending my phone into throbbing excitement. Even my phone got excited when he texted.
My heart fluttered. A hot flush covered my body remembering the last sentence I'd received from Kite007. I'd made the mistake of reading it just as I boarded the short flight from England to Spain.
Kite007: I don't need to know what you look like to get hard-guess where my hand is.
Of course I couldn't help myself. Because I was a sex-starved woman surrounded by over-protective men.
I replied: I don't need to hear what you sound like to get wet-guess where my hand wants to be?
I'd never been so blatant. With anyone. The moment I sent it I freaked out, wishing I could unsend.
I'd spent the trip in a confused state of arousal and denial. And never received a reply.
Until now.
I hid my flush, pretending nothing enticing taunted me on my phone. I loved my father and brother-so damn much-but if they knew … the proverbial shit would hit the fan.
"Oh, God." I clutched my heart as another stick-thin model paraded down the catwalk, failing to show off the intricate peacock-blue dress to its advantage. "No one will buy it if they can't see the potential of the design."
Vaughn sighed. "You worry too much. It's stunning. Anyone can see that." His dark eyes landed on mine. "Allow a thrill of pride-just once, Threads. It's going perfectly, and I couldn't be prouder of you." My twin brother draped his arm over my shoulders, tucking me against him. Considering the word ‘twin' meant mirror image, Vaughn was taller, better looking, and overall more vibrant than me. He made others envious with his natural beauty, while I made others feel beautiful with dresses sewn with twenty-four carat gold and dyed with exclusive inks costing a small fortune.
I supposed that was my talent: making others feel worthy while he sold products thanks to his allure. Mirror image alright-the direct opposite.
"You're a model. Why aren't you showcasing my clothes?"
Vaughn laughed. "My figure doesn't look good squashed into some sequinned frock. Create some decent clothes for males, then I might stoop and be your headline act."
I thumped his arm. "You know I don't have the drive to stitch suits and boxer-shorts. I keep telling you to go into business with me and create a men's line. There'd be no stopping-"