To Hunt a Sainte (Westlake Enterprises Book 1) Page 8

  Yeah, right.

  He returned to the main conference room to find J.D. and Jurek talking in low voices, the Buchanans gone.

  When he entered, talk ceased.

  “Well, how’d it go? Big brother warn you away from his gorgeous sister?” J.D. asked with a smirk.

  “It’s not funny—” Hunter began.

  “Damn right. It sure wasn’t funny when you had your tongue down her throat last night.”

  Jurek frowned. “Is that right?”

  “Not a big deal, Jurek. I was just trying to teach Alex a lesson.” He shot J.D. a look, promising retribution.

  Jurek shook his head. “A lesson? Look, Hunter, Alex is Max’s niece. I can promise you that if you mess with her in any way, Max will come at you with both barrels.”

  “Not to mention what Cole will do,” J.D. added, not helping.

  “So for your sake and for the sake of this investigation, make sure you play it straight,” Jurek warned.

  “Yeah, think with your head, not your hormones.” J.D. nodded with a straight face.

  Hunter’s blood boiled as he stared at J.D. Smarmy little—

  “Hunter?” Jurek asked with a frown. “You get my meaning?”

  “Message received and understood. And totally unnecessary,” he growled and turned for the door. “I’ll be in my office going over the details. And, J.D., buddy, you’re going to get yours. I promise you that.”

  Chapter Six

  Raymond Guest walked to the edge of the bed and ran his perfectly manicured hand over the curve of a milky white thigh. He studied the soft creature staring sightlessly at the mirrored ceiling, a glazed expression on her slack face. He bunched his hands in her long, blonde hair and held tightly for a moment. Then he released his hold and stepped back. What a waste.

  He turned and left the room, his feet making little noise on the cool marble floor. As he walked, he peered in the small upper window of each door that he passed, making sure the rest of the occupants of the house slept in reasonable comfort. And health, he thought irritably.

  He continued down the stairs and checked on the rest. Six beautiful pieces of flesh, perfect for the little soiree he planned to host in a few weeks.

  He left the building, then walked a small distance back to the main house under a blue sky dotted with puffs of white clouds. Light glistened off the pool to his right, while the dense tropical foliage to his left camouflaged a security fence topped with barbed wire.

  He entered his fifteen-thousand-square-foot home with pride, noting the careful attention to detail the staff continued to ensure. Not a thing out of place. Mrs. Simms, God bless her, kept things in perfect order.

  Perhaps he ought to have put her in charge of the girls.

  Once in the north wing of his home, in what he considered his private quarters, he punched in a security code that he changed daily. Entering his favorite room in the house, he sat with a sigh before his art collection, the one thing in his life that made him truly happy.

  Three paintings adorned the wall. Each had been professionally staged, framed, and backlit so that he always had a view into perfection. Yet his eyes strayed, as they always did, to the painting in the middle.

  Ray loved the dark and always had. He didn’t fear the unknown, the way his bible-thumping parents had. The fine line between life and death fascinated him. The ultimate mystery, a lifeline could be smudged if one wasn’t careful. Yet, no matter how many times he looked into the eyes of a person hovering on the brink, he couldn’t quite see past that final glaze of shock. The beautiful blonde upstairs had looked empty. No answer to be found there.

  Yasef must have given the girl too much Plezure. A hokey name, but his distributors seemed to like it. Plezure had an increased potency over GHB and Rohipnol—other date rape drugs that had glutted the market. Forty milliliters of Plezure could put a hundred-and-thirty-pound woman to sleep. A little bit less made her open to new ideas and suggestions. Too much would put her in a coma and even death.

  Apparently someone had used too much, which put Ray in an awkward position. In just nine more days, he would be hosting a party, networking his way into deep pockets. If all went well, he’d appreciate a new foray into the slave market, while expanding his drug enterprise. A man could never be too careful when investing in his future. Wouldn’t his parents be so proud?

  With a grim smile, Ray paged Yasef and waited.

  Though he didn’t really trust anyone, he gave his most important tasks to Yasef to complete. Until today, he hadn’t been disappointed.

  He’d found his assistant years ago in a forgettable little town in South America, sitting in a four-by-four cell. Yasef Cabell had been awaiting execution for a list of crimes impressive in their scope of cruelty. Covered in his own filth, Yasef had stepped forward without a whimper or plea for mercy. He’d remained still, faltering only when a saber removed his pinky finger.

  Guerillas had removed two more of his digits before Ray had bought Yasef’s freedom. Since that time, the man had never once questioned him or shown the slightest inclination to betray him. If anything, Yasef was better than a pet, a vicious but tamable creature.

  A knock sounded at the door. After verifying Yasef’s identity via a security feed, he buzzed him inside.

  “Yes, Ray? You called?”

  “Jennifer has expired,” Ray said softly.

  Yasef blanched but didn’t look away from Ray’s displeasure. “She seemed sated when I last saw her. I did only as instructed.”

  “I take it she needed more than forty milliliters?”

  “I started with twenty, but she remained stubborn, so I gradually increased the dose. I think she took fifty before she finally relaxed.” Yasef looked wistful. “She did anything I asked without complaint.”

  Ray knew Yasef had probably used the young woman in ways that no normal man would imagine. But then, wasn’t that part of what drew him to Yasef? Such creativity surrounded by madness. Like a twisted mirror of himself.

  “Why, then, is she dead?”

  Yasef frowned. “I wanted to measure her threshold. She maintained consciousness way past typical dosage. I’m not sure what happened. I’m sorry, Ray.”

  “I want her disposed of discreetly. Finding a senator’s intern raped and brutalized is sure to draw national media attention. And that’s something we don’t want until well after the fifteenth.” He paused. “I don’t want a hair harmed on any of the others, or there will be consequences. I’d hate to lose you, Yasef. But sacrifices must be made if we’re to be successful.”

  “Yes, Ray,” a subdued Yasef answered. “May I leave now?”

  Ray nodded and waited for Yasef to leave, pleased he’d made his point.

  When the phone rang, Ray answered it upon the first ring. “Peter, what a pleasant surprise.” He smiled into the receiver. “How are things?”

  Peter knew what motivated him. They’d grown up together, victims of oppressive fathers and weak-willed mothers. In a place where appearances meant everything, the two had bonded, though their circumstances had been quite different. Peter Omaney, son of wealthy socialites. Raymond Guest, son of an uptight preacher and his miserable, sin-plagued wife.

  Neither boy could step a foot out of line without a strap across his back. But perhaps their fathers knew more than they’d thought. Because Ray and Peter now made their lives off other people’s sins, and the rewards they reaped would surely see them in hell.

  He listened as Peter filled him in on the recent political agenda of a governor he’d been courting. They discussed business for several minutes. Then Peter mentioned his latest conquest, and something in his tone told him this woman had something the others did not.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” Ray asked.

  “You won’t believe this, but she’s Corruption,” Peter said with reverence.

  Ray froze, his attention drawn to the painting he’d been studying earlier. Corruption of the Saint had stood him through both good times and bad. Thr
ough the loss of his parents, his sister’s tragic demise, and his loneliness over the years when he despaired of ever finding her. But now Peter thought she might be the one...

  He reminded himself that they had gone this route before. The reason he now had seven—no, six without Jennifer—women waiting in cells to be sold. Even so, he couldn’t deny the excitement Peter’s words brought.

  “I want to meet her. If not sooner, then definitely before the auction.”

  “I’ll make that happen. Trust me, I won’t let you down.”

  Ray hung up the phone and stared at his painting with deep longing. A feminine creature lay sacrificed upon a rock under darkness, under a wraith, he imagined. Under himself. Her image was that of an angel’s. But what really mattered most about the woman in the painting was her importance to the darkness. Her white, tattered clothing and wings lay shredded as she surrendered before her dark lord.

  He studied the painting and felt a stir of arousal.

  Soon, I’ll see you soon.

  “BEN, THIS LUNCH HAS been absolutely wonderful.” Peter included Benjamin Anthony and Alex in his smile. They sat off Benjamin’s private office in an intimate setting—Benjamin’s private dining area.

  A carved mahogany executive desk and leather chair sat before several bookcases, meticulously organized in the attached room. But here, the three of them sat around a large, glass, round table with a marble pedestal. Silk chairs, a crystal chandelier overhead, and Waterford dinnerware with silver-and-gold-veined utensils made her feel like a princess dining with royalty.

  The view overlooked the hotel’s inner courtyard, which included a large water feature and flowers everywhere. Luxury at its finest. Alex could get used to this.

  Ben, as he’d asked to be called, beamed at the compliment. So far so good. She drank more of her lemon water, parched due to nervousness or the spicy meal, she couldn’t tell. But the way Ben and Peter watched her made her feel distinctly uncomfortable. More than lust tinged their gazes. Speculation and something dark lurked as well. She’d bet her last dollar Benjamin Anthony was dirty.

  “So, Ben, tell me again why you won’t join us tonight at Seneca’s?” She pursed her lips in disappointment and his grin widened.

  “I’m too old.”

  “No way,” she denied. “You’re Peter’s age, aren’t you? And I can tell you he’s definitely not too old for Seneca’s, or anything else,” she said suggestively.

  Peter blew her a kiss. “You see, Ben? I told you she’s magnificent.”

  “You’re right, as usual.” Ben glanced at his watch. “Shoot. Peter, Alex, I’m so sorry, but I have a meeting in a few minutes. Please, don’t get up. Stay as long as you like.” He waved them back to their seats. “If you’ll excuse me?”

  He leaned down to kiss her, and she forced herself not to react to the papery whisper of his kiss on her cheek. She watched him leave. An average-looking man, Ben had been a pleasant companion throughout their lunch. He and Peter seemed as thick as thieves, and she wondered if they’d worked together to kidnap Rebecca. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she caught the sense that Ben was involved.

  Peter apologized as he glanced at his watch. “I’m sorry, Alex, but I’ll have to cry off as well. I’ve got politicking to do.”

  Alex pretended a disappointment she didn’t feel. God, she was thirsty. Nerves made her sweat, and she prayed Peter couldn’t see her discomfort. “I will see you tonight, won’t I?” she asked hopefully as they walked out of Ben’s private room and into his elevator.

  “I think you know I want to see you again.” Peter took her hand and kissed her softly on the inside of her palm.

  She shivered at the unexpected sensuality of the gesture. Last night, she hadn’t felt anything for him but disgust. In the span of one evening and one lunch, nothing had changed. So why did she suddenly want to kiss him back?

  “In fact, I want to see all of you tonight.”

  Alex didn’t understand the strange look he gave her, but before she could say anything, the elevator doors opened on her floor. Peter escorted her to the door of her suite and waited for her to enter, and then followed her inside and closed the door behind them. Before she could say goodbye, he pulled her into his arms.

  At first, Alex didn’t mind the kiss. But, as the kiss deepened and turned from pleasant to carnal, her mental alarms sounded. His erection poked into her belly. His cologne nauseated her. She pushed at his shoulders and grew more determined when he reached under her sweater for her breasts. He pinched them and crudely explained what he planned to do to her later that night. Disgusted, Alex shoved Peter from her with her mind as well as her body.

  He blinked in surprise. In seconds, all traces of the lust on his face vanished. He looked at her with genuine fondness. “Until tonight, Alex.” He winked, turned, and left.

  Alex wondered if she’d perhaps imagined the brief attack. But when she touched her tender lips, she knew what he’d done had been real. What the hell had just happened? As she turned around, she felt off-balance. Confused, she didn’t know what to think.

  Trying to regain her equilibrium, she didn’t see Hunter until he stood almost on top of her. “You scared the daylights out of me. What are you doing here?”

  Hunter’s eyes narrowed. “Nice performance.” She blinked, thinking that sounded an awful lot like a sneer. But his blank expression remained in place. “So, what did you get out of lunch, besides a tonsillectomy?” he asked dryly.

  “I don’t know.” She stumbled away from him, barely aware of his hands on her arms to steady her. “The room’s spinning.” Alex suddenly felt very out of control.

  He grabbed her and stared into her eyes. Alex marveled at the rich gold of his irises. Then his pupils dilated, taking in more and more light until his eyes looked black. He breathed deeply, and she smelled...herself.

  Her scent wasn’t like anything she’d ever experienced. Lavender, the floral scent of her shampoo, and a hint of something utterly feminine that clearly identified her to Hunter. Sidetracked by his gaze, she blurted, “I love your eyes,” and once again lost herself in the golden depths.

  “Do you?” Hunter sounded distracted.

  “Yes... Hey, you breached security and are in my room, again,” she ended in a huff. Pushing away from him, she managed to find the couch and sat, clutching her head. She felt lightheaded. “Amazing I didn’t throw up all over Omaney. What a creep,” she complained, then gaped in awe at the genuine grin Hunter threw her way. The gesture made him irresistible.

  “Not a good kisser, eh?” He sat next to her, much too close, in her opinion. “So, tell me about lunch.”

  She suddenly wanted nothing more than to obey. “Benjamin Anthony is in on it. I can’t say why, but I feel it. He and Peter are good friends. Ben has a really nice office, and his place serves a terrific meal. The conversation was mild, bland, and uninteresting, really. Still, I felt kind of uncomfortable, as if I were on display or something.” She frowned. “In the elevator, Peter kissed my hand. I think I liked it. I must be ill.” She felt her forehead, but couldn’t tell if she ran a temperature. “But I didn’t like him groping me.”

  “Alex, your eyes don’t look right. I think you’ve been drugged. Tell me again everything Omaney said to you.”

  She struggled to recall his words and shared them with Hunter.

  While she spoke, he put his fingers over the pulse in her neck, startling her with the heat of his touch. She shifted under him, pleased when his fingers dragged over her skin. The buzz in her brain made room for the pure pleasure of his nearness.

  She found the energy to knock Hunter onto his back and press him to the cushions by lying flush against him. “Touch me again.”

  He stared at her in astonishment, but did as she said. His fingers traced a path from her neck to her collarbone, and arousal pierced her, swift and true. Every time they touched, she wanted more. The sheer power underneath his hands aroused her. She could sense his control, and she wanted to
see it unleashed, to know she pushed him past the edge of reason.

  He’d brought her to climax so easily, with the taste of his lips and the touch of his hands. She wondered if she could take him past the point of no return as well.

  “You know, Hunter,” Alex said and licked her lips, aware of Hunter’s sudden attention on her mouth. “Omaney doesn’t make me feel even a hint of what you do.”

  He froze, but didn’t push her away when she took charge. She put her hands on his chest and started rubbing the soft cloth over his body, grazing his nipples through his shirt. Then she licked at his neck and followed by sucking him gently, leaving small love bites along his skin.

  “Oh, God, Alex.” His gravelly voice shook her. He put his hands on her shoulders, as if to stop her. But her lips found his, and he pulled her closer.

  ALEX AS THE AGGRESSOR made Hunter’s head spin and his knees weak. Had he not already been splayed out on the couch, he knew his legs would have buckled. Hunter Greye, brought to his knees by a mere female. He tried to sort out his puzzling reaction, but lust overwhelmed him.

  Their mouths meshed. He gladly accepted her advances as she explored him. He groaned as her hands lifted his shirt, exposing his skin. Her soft hands felt hot when they rubbed his chest and toyed with his nipples.

  He fairly shot off of the couch when she pinched him. And when she bent her head to take his flesh between her teeth, he felt a sudden urge to climax, incredibly ready, for Alex.

  Knowing he needed to cease, that his sole purpose in visiting her was to stop just this kind of thing from occurring in the future, he nevertheless tortured himself by letting her touch him.

  “Alex,” he groaned as her lips left him to breathe erotic promises into his ear. “This isn’t you. You have to stop,” he tried again.

  Her body moved sinuously over his, her pelvis riding his erection until he was desperate to fuck her. She thrust her tongue into his ear and ground against him, whispering delights that dragged him into a quagmire of need. She kissed him and shoved her tongue in his mouth, shifting against his cock yet again. And he lost it. Hunter Greye, alpha male, predator, and all around badass, came in his jeans, thanks to a woman too drugged to understand what she was doing.