Kept by Him(20)

His back ached from places she’d scratched him and he loved it so much, he wanted to have more of

those scratches all over.

He’d desperately wanted to spend the night with her so he could only refill his load, wake up, and

fill her up with him again. But neither of them were people who slept over. Daniel had never allowed a

woman to sleep over before, and he’d never stayed to make chitchat with them in their homes. But

he’d wanted to stay with Monica. He’d held her before when she slept, all those years ago. He bet he

was still the only man in the world who’d ever done that. The thought tangled in his chest until he

knotted with a need that seemed violent.

He considered for the tenth time helping himself to some relief, but his hand was big and manly, not

delicate and soft like hers. He could get off with her scent alone, with hearing another of the delicate

sounds that stole from her throat and made her seem almost surprised that she’d made them.

Monica.

You arouse the hell out of me, Monica.…

Hell, she aroused him in any and all the ways a man could be aroused. Emotionally. Mentally.

Physically.

She and Daniel were similar in more ways than one. In business, they both had the hearts of a shark.

In relationships, they both exhibited cool disinterest toward their partners and saw them as only

passing entertainment, and nothing truly meaningful. They were both media darlings, both

workaholics, but in the only way that counted, they were opposites. Male and female. And his male

was wild about her. His male had never encountered in his life a woman to even remotely resemble his

reactions to her.…

He rolled off the bed and slipped into a pair of pajama bottoms, then padded bare-chested to his

computer room. The screens were up digitally on a blank wall, projected with lasers, on the other side

of the computers, a total of a dozen screens surveyed the parking lot, the streets, others highlighting

his darkened office, the elevators to Tritech, the building.

He pressed his fingerprint to the computer keyboard, digitally hovering in the air, and subtly

murmured, “Monica Davenport.”

A female voice broke out.

Searching for …

A total of 142,321 results.

“Scan most recent, display all.”

All twelve computer screens lit up, each portraying a different article about her. He touched a

screen and zoomed in on the image of her with Roland Gustafson. Old money. Country-club type of

man. Widowed with a son already in college. Monica was a comet compared to that dull bug-eyed

toad.

Daniel loathed the man, especially the way he’d always been sniffing Monica’s skirts. He didn’t

know if the man wanted some of Monica’s solid financial footing, or if he just wanted himself a

trophy wife. But Monica had said they’d be discussing their relationship when he returned from

London.

Good luck with that, princess. I’m not letting you go back to your mummy this time.

Focusing back on the screens, he moved his fingers over the timeline, and surveyed back in time,

five years ago, six …

He stopped at an article: LEXINGTON AND DAVENPORT WEDDING?

They’d been caught having lunch at the Four Seasons, and gossip had spread like a forest fire.

During those couple of months after the death of her parents, there were months were there was not a

mention of one of them—either Daniel or Monica—without the other being mentioned. Press

speculation had been aplenty.

NOT EVEN ICE MAIDEN CAN RESIST THE PRINCE!

He scowled at that one and scrolled onto the next. All of the speculation had stemmed from the

funeral. He landed on that famed picture. THE ICE MAIDEN CRACKS IN THE ARMS OF THE PRINCE!

Daniel had been clad in black, his blond head bent, and he felt all over again the impotence of being

unable to shield her from all those prying eyes even as she’d begged him not to let them see this.

She’d burrowed in his arms like a bird with a broken wing and by God Daniel had wanted to take her

to his nest until she could fly again with him.

Heart heavy in his chest, he went back further, to the murder-suicide.

LISA AND CARLTON DAVENPORT FOUND DEAD BY SOLE HEIR!

His eyes scanned the article, and they related once again how their eldest daughter had called 911

after finding them in their bedroom, dead, with their wrists slit.

Daniel rubbed his forehead and leaned back, remembering all the drama. Monica had breathed it,

lived it, from up close, and it still pained him to think of her having gone through that alone.

They’d been normal people, Lisa and Carlton Davenport.

Hell, he still remembered them on the Lexington’s Queen yacht, laughing and having a good time.

You’d never imagine they would do what they did. Apparently, Carlton had a slip, a passing affair