CAPTURED: 9 Alpha Bad-Boys(130)

Vertigo was hard to diagnose, but moments like these-where the madness  of the past year culminated with yet more deadlines on the horizon-I  recognised every symptom of wobbliness and fading vision. I felt drunk … I  wanted to be drunk-even though I hadn't had liquor in seven years.

Swallowing the lightheadedness, I waved and bowed and smiled before  hitting my limit. Gritting my teeth, I almost fell down the steps at the  front of the runway right into Vaughn's arms.

He scooped me up, giving me a firm balanced form to clutch to. "Breathe through it. It'll pass."

Shaking my head, I blinked, chasing away the fear in my blood and  weakness of an incurable illness. "I'm okay. Just let me go for a  second."

He did as I asked, giving me space. The crowd stayed behind their small  barricade letting me suck in much needed oxygen. My phone buzzed again  and this time … I couldn't ignore it.

Pulling it from my ruffled, feathered cleavage, I unlocked the screen and indulged.

Kite007: Haven't had a message from you in a couple of days. If you  don't send one immediately, I might have to track down your name and  location and come and spank you.

My stomach flipped at the threat. He'd never insinuated a meeting … not after my bungle of asking him out and his blatant refusal.

Kite007: Still no reply. If threats of physical harm won't make you  respond, perhaps the mental visualisation of me stroking myself while  reading some of your old messages will persuade you to.

My core clenched. He'd pleasured himself while thinking of me? A stranger touching himself shouldn't give me such a thrill.

Kite007: My Naughty Nun, I don't know what you're doing, but I've  disgraced myself by coming all over my hand at the thought of you naked  and smeared in chocolate. Hope you're happy.

"What are you reading?" Vaughn peered over my shoulder.

My cheeks flamed and I wiped the screen of evidence that despite his and  my father's best intentions, I'd managed to find a man interested in  talking sex with me. I couldn't wait to be in private to respond. Kite  seemed more … open. Maybe we could talk about real things and not just  dirt.

"Nothing."

Vaughn scowled, then a large grin brightened his face. "Guess how many orders?"

My brain couldn't switch from wanting desperately to respond to Kite to normal conversation. "Orders?"

He threw his hands up. "Seriously! Your collection. Sometimes I worry  about you, Threads." Still grinning, he added, "Your Fire and Coal  collection has orders from all major retail chains in Europe and  America, and the couture line is currently in a bidding war for  exclusivity between a London boutique and Paris." He bounced with  happiness-infecting me with energy. "I told you this was your break.  You've cemented your name. Nila will be worn by celebrities around the  world at their red-carpet premieres."         

     



 

He lowered his voice. "You're your own, sister. You're more than just a  Weaver. You're you, and I'm so damn proud of what you've achieved." Twin  intuition had always been strong-showing just how much he understood  without me ever having to voice it.

Tears sprang to my eyes. Vaughn didn't get sentimental often, so his  praise was a well-placed dagger in my self-control. This time I couldn't  stop the smile breaking through my defences or my heart glowing with  accomplishment. "Thank you, V. That means-"

"Nila."

I spun around to face my father. Instead of the grin and look of love I  expected, he stood cold and fierce. My stomach tensed, sensing something  was wrong. So, so wrong. It was the same look he got whenever he  thought of Mum. The same look I'd grown accustomed to hating and running  from.

"Dad … what-" He wasn't alone. My eyes trailed from my father's pressed tux toward the tall, svelte man beside him.

Holy hell, who on earth...

Thoughts died like windless kites, littering my mind with silent  dumbness. He was a stranger. But I felt as if I'd seen him before. He  was a mystery. But I sensed I already knew everything about him. Two  extremes … two confusions.

"Nila, I want to introduce you to someone." My father's jaw ticked,  hands clenching into white-knuckled fists. "This is Jethro Hawk. He's a  big fan of your work and would like to take you out tonight to celebrate  your success."

I wanted to rub my eyes and have my hearing checked. Since the day of my  birth, my father had never introduced me to a man. Never. And he'd  never lied so obviously. This man wasn't a fan of my work-although he  did have incredible fashion sense. He had to be a male model with his  height, envious cheekbones, and perfectly styled salt-and-pepper hair.  His white skin was flawless-no wrinkles or blemishes. He looked ageless,  but I guessed he was late twenties, early thirties despite his greying  hair speaking of wisdom far beyond his years.

His hands were concealed in pockets of a dark charcoal suit with a cream  shirt open at the throat and a diamond pin piercing his jacket lapel.

"Tex, what are you-" Vaughn's voice was quiet but possessive. Eyeing up  Jethro, he stayed polite by offering his hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr.  Hawk. I appreciate your interest in my sister's talent, but my father  has it wrong. Tonight she is unavailable due to a family commitment."

I would've smiled if my stomach wasn't knotted as the two men assessed each other.

Jethro slowly took my brother's hand, shaking once. "Pleasure, I'm sure.  And I, in turn, can appreciate your interest in keeping your prior  agreement with your sister, but alas. Your generous father has allowed  me the enjoyment of ruining your plans and stealing her away." His voice  whispered through my gown, sending goosebumps down my spine. His accent  was English, same as mine, but slightly more clipped. He sounded posh  but rogue at the same time. Refined but uncouth.

My brother wasn't impressed. His forehead furrowed.

"I hope that isn't going to be an issue, Mr. Weaver. I've heard a lot  about you and your family and would hate to upset you." Mr. Hawk's eyes  landed on mine, capturing me in a cage of golden irises and effortless  power. "However, I've heard the most about your sister. And I have no  doubt it will be a pleasure knowing her."

I gulped. No one had spoken to me like that-especially in front of my  father. Who was this man? Why did his very existence fill me with hot  and cold and awareness and fear?

"Listen here," my father blustered. I tensed, ready for the outrage I  knew he was capable of, but his lips snapped closed and the fire in his  gaze didn't erupt. Swallowing hard, he finished, "I presume my  obligations are complete?"

Jethro nodded, a lock of hair brushing his forehead. "You presume correctly."

Fear evolved to panic. Obligations? My God, is my father in some sort of  trouble? I clutched his sleeve. "Dad. The show's over. Let's go for  that drink." I glanced at Vaughn, cursing my fluttering heart and the  mix-match of emotions colliding inside.

My father pulled me close, pressing a single kiss on my cheek. "I love  you, Nila, but I've kept you to myself for long enough. Mr. Hawk has  asked if he can take you out tonight. I agreed. Vaughn and I can wait  till another time."

He didn't say-only if you want to, of course. It sounded more like a  sentencing rather than freedom to date. Why this man? Why now?

Vaughn moved closer. "Tex, we already had plans. We can't just-"

My father glared at my brother, his gaze weighty with unsaid anger.  "Plans change, V. Now give your sister a kiss goodbye. She's leaving."

"I am?" I took a step backward, clutching my phone. There was no denying  Jethro Hawk was good looking and seemed to be successful judging by his  attire, but if I was allowed to date, I wanted Kite007, not this cold  outlander.

"You are." Jethro held out his hand, his gaze noosing me tighter in their golden cage. "I'm taking you somewhere special."

"She isn't going anywhere with you unless she wants to, dickhead."  Vaughn puffed out his chest, placing a hand on my lower back. "Tex-tell  him."

My eyes flew to my father. What existed in his gaze sent frost crackling  through my blood. His lips were tight, eyes bright and slightly glassy.  But his cheeks were dark with rage. He glowered at Mr. Hawk. "I've  changed my mind. Not tonight."

Vaughn huffed, nodding in agreement. The thick soup of male testosterone choked my lungs.

Jethro smiled coolly. "You've given me your word, Mr. Weaver. There are  no rain checks." Aiming his sharp smile my way, he purred, "Besides, Ms.  Weaver and I have a lot to discuss. It's time we got acquainted and  tonight is the night."

"Excuse me while you all fight over me. But what about what I want?" I  crossed my arms. "I'm tired, overworked, and not in the mood to  entertain. Thank you for your interest, but-"

"No buts, Ms. Weaver. It's been arranged and discussed. You will come  with me because it's the only way your night will end." Jethro lowered  his head, watching me from beneath his brow. "I promise you'll have a  good time. And I mean you no harm … do you really think your father would  permit me to take you out otherwise?"