Rage filled him. Before he could stop himself, Caleb fisted the lapels of Vincent’s jacket and jerked him to his toes. “Keep it up, you stupid fuck, and I will end you. If you touch her, if you so much as even brush by her in a crowd, I’ll finish this once and for all. You hear me?”
His beautiful Samantha. The thought of this maggot’s hands so much as attempting to mar the beauty of her skin was enough to push him to the limits of his restraint.
A heavy hand landed on Caleb’s shoulder, stopping him from ripping Vincent’s voice box out through his throat.
“Caleb.” Joe’s voice was stern at his ear. “Everything all right?”
Caleb shrugged him off. “Peachy.”
He held on to Vincent a moment more, letting the man feel the full weight of his fury. His face paled slightly and fear flashed in Vincent’s eyes.
Good. Message received.
“Let him go, Caleb. People are watching,” Joe said.
Shoving Vincent away, Caleb rubbed his palms together. Years of training kept his heart at a steady beat in his chest, but he felt far from calm.
Vincent straightened his jacket with a sharp pull, a satisfied smile pulling at his lips. “This conversation has been quite … enlightening. I trust I haven’t seen the last of you.”
“For your sake, I’d hope you have,” Caleb warned.
Caleb waited until Vincent had slipped out the door and into the gardens before releasing the air from his chest. Emotions he’d never felt before raced through his system, knocked him off balance.
“We’ll get him, don’t worry,” Joe said.
“Damn right, we will.” Caleb’s voice lacked conviction. His instincts fired on all cylinders as the conversation with Vincent replayed in his head. Vincent had been relaxed. Confident. Too confident, as if he knew something Caleb didn’t. What was he missing?
He’d completely botched this night, and for what? He’d gotten face-time with Vincent, but that didn’t mean Samantha was any safer than she’d been before. The only way to know for sure was to let her go and wait to see if Vincent would strike again. The thought that it could be the last strike, the one that took her from him forever, threatened to smother him.
His vision blurred as he pictured her, so full of spunk, so full of life.
She’d been through more than any woman should, yet she’d held on, determined to keep going, stay strong. Those few times she’d let him in, he’d seen her vulnerability, her desire to be loved.
She kept him sharp, on his toes, with her quick wit and independence. He loved the way she laughed when she was nervous and tore his ass up when he’d pissed her off. Most of all, he loved the need that shone in her eyes each time he touched her, as if he was the only man in the world who could give her what she needed.
The thought that she could be taken from him … Caleb shook his head in denial.
He wasn’t prepared for a world without her in it. Suddenly, he didn’t know who he’d be without her.
He’d never been in love before, but he’d seen Joe with his sister. He’d seen the fierce need and desire, Joe’s determination to keep Amanda safe, to make her happy for the rest of her life.
Did he feel that way about Samantha?
Hell, yeah, he did.
But wasn’t the idea of love supposed to be like a lightning bolt? A jolt to the system? Fireworks or some shit like that?
He didn’t feel any different. The realization that he loved Samantha washed over him like a lover’s caress, smooth and soft. As if it had been there all along and he was just catching up.
He was so screwed.
She’d given this thing between them an expiration date. She wouldn’t let go of that idea easily. No. More than likely, she’d believe their forced companionship had caused some sort of emotional response in him.
He’d have to prove to her that he was in this for the long haul.
Time wasn’t on his side. They needed to regroup. Her safety came first. Then, he’d turn his attention to their relationship.
“Fair warning, you’ve got some explaining to do.”
And then there was that.
Caleb didn’t appreciate the humor in Joe’s tone. “You worry about your girl, and I’ll worry about mine. Remember?”
Looks like he had his work cut out for him.
* * *
Vincent sat on the secluded bench, cigar smoke permeating the air around him. He looked comfortable, relaxed, not at all concerned about watching his back.
One of his many faults, Mark thought as he approached. The rich, sweet scent of the cigar tickled his nose as he maneuvered around the artful landscape. A scent that had the potential to give their location away.
Mark ground his teeth together. He’d grown tired of the ignorance of others. He’d selected this spot on purpose. They were far enough away to ensure privacy. Evidence of the party beyond this section of the garden could be heard, yet no one had dared venture out into the shadowy pathways. It wasn’t that kind of party.