Kidnapped by the Billionaire(54)

"What do you want me to do?" she asked him, trying to force away the  growing sense of fear that was carving a nice little home for itself in  her gut. "When we get there, I mean."

Elijah had taken his phone out and was busy typing something into it. He  didn't look up, but again that muscular arm slid around her waist and  she was hauled against his body, his hand resting flat on her stomach,  heavy with possession. "Just stay close and let me do the talking."

She took a deep, steadying breath. Okay, so she could do this. She'd  faced down this man at gunpoint and she'd managed to bear the truth  about her father. She'd emerged from both of those trials by fire still  standing. Unbroken. And there was no fucking way in hell she'd break  now.         

     



 

One hand curled around the memory stick in her palm while the other  reached for the man beside her, coming to rest on one powerful  denim-clad thigh. He was so strong. She could feel that strength running  through him like electricity through high-tension wires. And he had a  lot of it to spare. Enough for her too.

He glanced at her, his eyes intense, full of storms and darkness. "Do you trust me, Violet?"

"Yes." She didn't even have to think about her response. It was automatic.

If he found this gratifying he gave no sign, though the arm around her  tightened fractionally. "Then you have to do what I tell you to when I  tell you to, understand?"

"Yes, okay."

He paused, his attention wholly focused on her. Staring at her as if he  was seeing her for the very first time. "I had a plan," he said quietly.  "To keep you safe. But Jericho's changed the fucking rules on me and  there's no time to put that plan in place."

A shiver of fear ghosted over her skin, but she refused to let it get to  her. She could do this, and she was going to. Helping Elijah put  Jericho in the ground would be worth it. "I'll be okay," she said  firmly, as if saying it would make it so. "We're going to get this  sonofabitch."

His harsh, handsome face looked carved from stone, the scar bisecting it  gone white. His eyes glittered like obsidian, sharp and hard. And she  thought, just for a second, that she saw something softer in them. As if  her words had touched something inside him.

Then unexpectedly he reached up, took her face between his large, warm  palms and held her an instant, staring down at her. "I will keep you  safe, princess." The words were heavy, weighted like a vow. "I promise  you this." And before she could respond, he bent his head and kissed  her.

Violet went still, waiting for the hard, hot demand of his mouth on hers.

But it didn't come. Instead he was gentle, his lips brushing hers before  his tongue dipped inside to taste her, a delicate sip rather than a  deep swallow. It was tantalizing, sweet, unlike any of the others he'd  given her. She shuddered, opening her mouth to him, letting him take it  if he wanted. But again, he didn't. He explored slowly, savoring her  taste, learning her contours. His fingers were gentle, his thumbs  stroking back and forth along her cheekbones. The gentleness of him made  her chest ache and her throat tighten. He was so big, so strong, and so  cold. And yet his touch on her was light as a butterfly's wing.

Her senses reeled, the prick of unexpected tears sharp behind her closed  lids. How could he make her weep like this with just one kiss?

His hands slid over her jaw and down her neck, his thumbs now brushing  the underside of her jawline. The kiss gentled even more before he  lifted his mouth from hers. She was shaking, a strange, constant  vibration that went deeper than an unsteady hand or wobbly legs. It felt  like her entire soul was trembling. She didn't want this to end, and  words of protest nearly came out. But she kept quiet at the last minute  because they were in a taxi going to meet Jericho and there was no time.

The look on Elijah's face was unreadable and he didn't say a word. He  kept his hands where they were for one long minute, his fingers pressing  lightly against her neck as if he was memorizing its shape.

Then he took them away and turned, reaching for his phone again and  looking down at the screen. As if the moment had never happened.

She leaned back against the seat, wanting to fold her arms around  herself because she was pretty sure her heart was going to come out of  her chest if it beat any harder. Her lips tingled, and she could taste  him on her tongue. And she wished suddenly, passionately, that they were  back at his apartment where she could reach out to him and pull him  close again. Kiss him again. Fall back into that wide bed of his and  forget the rest of the world existed.

But unfortunately it did. A brutal, harsh world, the reality of which was going to hit hard in about twenty minutes.

Elijah muttered curses beside her, then leaned forward to urge the cabbie to drive faster.

"We should have taken the subway," she murmured, unable to think of anything else to say.

"Too late now," he said shortly.

The rest of the trip was silent, the cabdriver doing his level best to speed up the journey.

They got there with minutes to spare.

Elijah tossed the driver some cash while Violet got out, looking around  nervously. He joined her a second or two later, once again putting his  arm around her as if he couldn't bear not to touch her.

"Remember." His voice was quiet. "Do what I say, okay?"

"I remember." She swallowed, forcing down her fear.         

     



 

They crossed the street and headed into the park, joining the crowds of  people taking advantage of the nice, late-winter weather to enjoy the  sun and sparkling blue of the river. Tourists and sightseers of all  nationalities, joggers, people out walking their dogs, and office  workers on a break having a stroll or heading somewhere.

All the people around calmed Violet somewhat, which was stupid. Just  because there were a lot of people around didn't make this whole thing  any less dangerous.

"Why here?" she murmured as she and Elijah walked toward the Esplanade. "It's very public."

"That was the point." He wasn't looking at her, his gaze focused on  where they were going, his whole posture radiating leashed tension, as  if ready to explode into movement at the slightest provocation. "We're  less likely to get shot in a crowd."

"But that makes killing him slightly problematic, don't you think?"

"Yes. But I wasn't really concerned about that."

Violet glanced at him. His face was set, hard, menace radiating from him  like heat from a desert road. "What do you mean you weren't concerned  about that? Shooting a person in broad daylight usually results in a  murder charge."

He lifted his shoulder. "Like I said, that didn't concern me."

Shock coursed down her spine. "What? You'd go to jail?"

"Killing Jericho may mean I end up with a death sentence anyway. Jail or  death, either doesn't worry me. Or at least, it didn't."

She couldn't stop staring at him, a terrible clenching feeling in her chest. "You were going to sacrifice yourself?"

"Call it what you like, Jericho dead was the whole point. My life didn't matter."

No. He was wrong. He was so wrong. "Elijah-"

"But things have changed," he interrupted before she could protest. "If  your father's empire is going to be taken down, someone has to take  control of it, and logically that person is me. And I can't do that if  I'm dead or in jail."

It should have been some comfort that he wasn't going to throw his life  away, and yet it wasn't. Instead a great feeling of sadness sat like a  boulder in the center of her chest, weighing her down. Was this really  how he wanted his life to go? An endless revenge quest for the wife he'd  lost years ago?

It made those tears rise again, clogging in her throat, that aching  sadness getting heavier and heavier. Sadness for him and for what he'd  lost. For what his life had become. For what his life would be after  this was all over. Because if he was going to take down what her father  had created, then there would be no peace for him. No rest.

"You can't," she said before she could think better of it. "Elijah, when is it going to stop?"

"When is what going to stop?"

They'd come out onto the Esplanade now, the glittering blue of the river  in front of them, the skyscrapers behind. He was scanning around at the  crowds of people moving up and down the walkway, or standing to look at  the view, or sitting on the benches lining the riverside.

"This need for revenge."

He stilled all of a sudden and his sharp-edged gaze came to rest on her.  For a moment the walls behind his eyes dropped away and she could  finally see the grief and rage that burned inside. The fuel he'd used to  burn away the man he'd once been.

"Never," he said softly, almost gently. "It will never stop."

Violet couldn't speak, her throat locking up entirely, the sadness crushing, and she didn't know why.

Of course you know why. You haven't just fallen for him. You're in love with him.