Second Debt Read online

  And run.

  And run.

  For fun this time, not for survival.

  Bouncing on the spot, I rolled my shoulders, eyeing up the sweeping lawn before me. If I went right, I’d loop around the stables. If I went left, I’d cut through the sprawling rose garden and orchards.

  Go straight.

  Down the meandering path that disappeared over the horizon.

  I switched from bouncing to jogging.

  “And just where do you think you’re going?” a cool voice whispered through the silver fog.

  I wrenched to a stop, peering behind me.

  No one.

  “I thought you’d realised running wasn’t a viable option, Ms. Weaver.”

  His icy voice sent a strange mixture of hot and cold desire down my spine. Jethro morphed into being, seeming to solidify from the mist like a terrible poltergeist. He leaned against one of the pillars holding up the portico, crossing his arms.

  My heart collapsed, unable to untangle the maze of hypocrisy between us. My skin begged for his touch. My lips tingled for his. Every inch of me craved what he could deliver.

  Heat. Passion. An eruption that I felt in every cell.

  But none of that was real.

  And I refused to believe in trickery any longer.

  Mirroring his body language, I crossed my arms. “I realise escaping isn’t a viable option. But I’m not escaping. I’m running. Running is my only option to escape the mess you’ve made.”

  His jaw clenched. “The mess I’ve made?”

  “Yes.” I took a step backward as he advanced. “You’re messing me up, and I’m done playing whatever it is that you’re doing.” I sucked in courage and embraced honesty. It seemed to work around him, and I needed him to see how serious I was. How hurt I was with his deception.

  He’s Kite.

  Bastard.

  Baring my teeth, I said, “It seems I have a weakness for you, but I changed my mind. I don’t—”

  A low growl escaped him. “A weakness? You call what happened between us a fucking weakness?”

  My breathing ratcheted as if I’d already run two miles. “The worst kind of weakness.”

  He smiled, but no mirth entered his gaze. If anything, his golden eyes were luminous with anger. “You’re the one who started it…Nila.”

  I gasped at the delicious decadence of my name on his lips. The sound echoed in his mouth, shooting straight to my core.

  Shit.

  Jethro advanced again, his body trembling with barely veiled lust. “You’re the one who created this problem.” His hand came up, fingers slinking through my tied-up hair, tightening around the back of my skull. “I can’t hear the name Weaver without getting fucking hard. I can’t even think of you without boiling with need.”

  His nose brushed against mine, his lips so damn close to stealing all my scrambled plans and sending me headfirst into a life of debauchery.

  “You should never have said those two words, Ms. Weaver. I told you. We’re both fucked now.”

  My mind was blank, every synapse focusing on his fingers in my hair and his mouth only millimetres from mine. “What two words?”

  He chuckled. The sound was self-deprecating and almost morbid with dark intensity. “Kiss me.”

  I shivered in his hold. “You’re reminding me of what started this mess, or you’re asking me to kiss you?”

  Ask me. And I will. God, how I will.

  I’d kiss him until I’d stripped him of his arctic armor and destroyed it, I’d lick him until I tasted his truth, and I’d bite him until I’d eaten every morsel of his soul.

  I’d do all that so he had nowhere left to hide.

  We stood wrapped in foggy silence. The drawn out anticipation of a kiss turned my legs to jelly. If he pressed his mouth to mine, I wouldn’t be going for my run. I would climb his body and sink onto his cock.

  Fakery be damned.

  Kite’s messages and deceit be damned.

  I just wanted a raw connection—with this man, who made my soul whimper for wrongness.

  Jethro’s tongue slipped between his lips, hypnotising me. Then…he let me go. “No, I’m not asking you to kiss me. I won’t ever ask anything from you.”

  I flinched as if he’d slapped me. “Why not?”

  “Because I own you. Everything I want will be given, not requested.”

  Double shit.

  I should hate him. I should smite him. So, why did his every word seduce me, even while I knew his morals were chauvinistic and heartless?

  Forcing my body to obey, I shoved the weakness I had for him as far away as possible. My eyes trailed down his front. He wore tan jodhpurs, black riding boots, and a tweed jacket. The bulge between his legs looked heavy and far too dangerous to be legal.

  “You’ve been riding.”

  A gentle gust of early morning air blew his scent directly into my nose. I inhaled, soaking my lungs in hay, horse, and all things Jethro.

  He nodded, crossing his arms once again. “You run. I ride. Seems we have something else in common.”

  Something other than being forced into this debt and finding each other irresistible, you mean?

  “Oh, what’s that?”

  Jethro stepped closer, seeming to bring shadows into the smoky light of dawn. “We both need time alone to hide from the things that chase us.” He stiffened, his eyes churning with things he refused to voice. A five o’ clock shadow decorated his strong jaw, his lips parted while his gaze was pure brimstone.

  Swiftly, he cupped my cheek.

  Oh, God.

  Electricity instantly sparked beneath his fingertips.

  Would I always suffer the rhapsody of his touch?

  My skin smouldered; pinpricks of light, of fire, of hell, all burnished beneath his hold. I swayed, pressing my face harder into his palm.

  He sucked in a breath, his fingers digging harder against my cheekbone.

  The chemistry and need to devour each other thickened with every heartbeat.

  One beat.

  Two beat.

  Three.

  We stood there, frozen on the stoop of Hawksridge Hall just waiting for the other to move. The moment we did, our clothes would disintegrate and I would willingly let him drag me into a bush and fuck me.

  Lust and tension swirled.

  I had so many questions and doubts; so many reasons to hate and fear him. But when he touched me…poof.

  I no longer remembered, nor cared.

  We swayed closer, drawn against our will to close the aching distance.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  Kiss me. Please, kiss me.

  The moment stretched until it hummed with overwhelming possibilities.

  Then, it snapped.

  Loudly.

  Painfully.

  Shattering around our feet.

  “You’re too fucking dangerous,” Jethro muttered, removing his touch and stepping away. Dragging his hand through his hair, he commanded, “Wait here. Don’t go anywhere.” His hands went to his jacket buttons, undoing them with nimble fingers.

  I blinked, struggling to shed myself of heavy need and focus on the true reason why I stood barely dressed in the freezing morning. “I’m not escaping. I’ll be back in forty minutes or so.”

  He shook his head, slipping out of his tweed and revealing a black long-sleeved jumper.

  My mouth went dry. Even in clothing, I could make out every ridge of muscle in his stomach, every ripple of energy as he breathed in and out. He was designed straight from my fantasies, and I hated him for being so splendid.

  My core clenched, sending flutters of wetness between my legs.

  I hadn’t seen him in two days, yet I’d panted after him as if he’d been missing my entire life.

  If he suspected I knew that he was Kite, he hadn’t let on. After Kes had told me the truth, I’d waited for Jethro to barge into my room and swear me to secrecy.

  But he hadn’t.

  He didn’t look at me a
ny differently; he gave no outward sign that his lies had begun to unravel. As much as he confounded and frustrated me, I couldn’t help admiring his perfection at hiding.

  I wanted to be like him. I wanted to protect my secrets so damn well that whatever I did next would come as a surprise.

  I wanted to rule him.

  “I’m coming with you. Don’t leave.” He disappeared into the house, leaving me abandoned and covered in chills from both the morning air and his departure.

  Jogging on the spot, I deliberated ignoring him and leaving.

  Just go.

  What was the worst that could happen? He’d have to chase me again. My tummy coiled at the thought. I liked that idea way too much. I liked the thought of what would happen after he found me.

  The power I’d felt giving him that blowjob. The awe and attraction that’d glowed in his eyes.

  I want that again.

  Screw waiting like a good little captive.

  Make him hunt.

  And then I would make him explode.

  I bolted.

  OF COURSE, SHE ran.

  I fully expected her to.

  Unlike last time when I expected her to cower by my feet, I’d had the last month to get to know my charge. Through getting into her mind via text messages, and getting into her body by sheer insane passion, I’d come to understand her—more than she knew.

  And unfortunately for her, she’d lost the ability to surprise me.

  She’d lost the ability because I’d been inside her body and mind. I’d traded my soul for hers—no matter how much she would deny it. No matter how much I would deny it. We were linked.

  Connected.

  Bound.

  Somehow, she’d crept inside my barricaded heart. She’d weakened me—but that weakness worked both ways.

  I felt her. I heard her fears, tasted her tears, and somehow knew how she would react.

  I hadn’t permitted anyone to have that control over me since Jasmine. Even Kes and I didn’t share such a strong connection.

  That strange bond had a name.

  I called it my disease.

  And it only got worse the more I was around Nila.

  I craved her so intensely; I would break both of us before any more debts were paid.

  I didn’t think she believed me when I said we were well and truly fucked. And not just because of my father and what he would do. But because of what I was.

  Because of my…condition.

  The moment I left her on the porch, I knew she’d go. The knowledge echoed in my bones, making it fact rather than speculation.

  In the time it took to jog back to my room and trade my riding attire for all-black workout gear, she’d gone.

  Balling my hands in the cool morning air, I smiled. A genuine smile. It’d been forever since I’d let myself relax enough to be genuine about any emotion.

  Just like empathy and compassion were banned from my repertoire, so too, was feeling something so purely that it became a spark in my dead heart. I didn’t want to be genuine about anything because it could be used against me.

  It was best to hate everything and everyone. To hide my true desires even from myself.

  The anticipation of another hunt sent my blood flowing thick and hot.

  Her tiny footprints led a trail, like enticing crumbs. The dew-damp grass flattened from her path.

  I’m coming, Nila.

  Just like before, I took off after my prey. But the difference between this chase and the previous one was I knew she wanted me to hunt her. I knew she wanted to be found. And I knew she fed off this cat and mouse idiocy as much as I did.

  My legs spread into a large stride as I left the Hall behind.

  I preferred to perch on the back of Wings when galloping fast and far. I wasn’t a jogger. It wasn’t quick enough for me. I missed the power of a large beast between my legs, responding to the commands to race and outrun everything that I was.

  Every footfall caused me to wince from what I’d done to myself in my last ‘fixing’ session. The pain radiated up my legs. I supposed I should be grateful for the agony—it helped me in so many ways. And I needed all the help I could get with Nila wreaking havoc on my world.

  You know it’s no longer working, so why still do it?

  That was true.

  Pain no longer held the comfort or fortress it used to. Jasmine was right. It was time to start looking at other methods, or, if I was brave enough, let everything that I’d been hiding emerge.

  I snorted at the reaction that would get me. Not to mention the complications with my father.

  No, I wasn’t ready. Not yet. Besides, I had more important things on my mind.

  Such as hunting.

  Leaping over the rock wall and tearing down the path, I put my head down and ran after my little Weaver.

  A pitiful six minutes later, I gained on her.

  Her stride and pace were impressive, and I had to appreciate her wily ways of trying to throw me off her trail by cutting across the driveway and disappearing into the woods on the other side.

  But I was an experienced hunter.

  Her clues littered behind her, leading me directly to my prey.

  Her hair bounced, tendrils coming loose from her hair-tie. Her sculptured legs led to the firmest arse I’d ever seen.

  My mouth watered.

  I wanted to bite it. Bite her. Lick her. Fuck her.

  “This seems all too familiar,” I muttered, pulling up beside her with a burst of speed.

  She jumped, clutching her heart. “Shit, I didn’t hear you creeping behind me.”

  “Creeping? I did nothing of the sort.”

  She rolled her eyes, settling back into the punishing pace she’d set. I matched my stride to hers. Companionable silence fell as my attention turned inward again, focusing on the agony in my feet.

  I really shouldn’t have chosen that part of my body—especially if running with her became a frequent occurrence. I’d have to find a new place in which to fix myself. The soles of my feet had been used for years—when I needed the extra buffer. No one could see the marks, no one would know, and the pain was constant whenever I moved.

  A perfect place for secrets.

  “Do you run?” Nila asked. Her breathing was heavy but even, her fitness level higher than mine.

  I shook my head. “No. I prefer exercise where a horse does the hard work, or perhaps a punching bag that takes my fists.”

  “You do that often?”

  “What, ride?”

  “No, assault an innocent punching bag.” Her dark eyes landed on mine, diving deep into my complexities before I slammed up my walls and prevented her from seeing any more.

  “No more than usual,” I said, pulling ahead of her.

  With a small grunt, she matched me, not letting me disappear. “I know you have issues, Jethro. But I’ll keep my speculations to myself…for now.” Running for a while, she finally asked, “What time did you wake up today?”

  I frowned, gritting my teeth against the pounding pain in my feet. “What?”

  “It’s dawn, yet you’ve already been for a ride. Are you an early riser?”

  I snorted. You could say that. “I’m not good at sleeping. Wings is used to me.”

  “Wings?”

  “My gelding.” I threw her a glance. “The horse I was riding when I tracked you. Remember?”

  Nila’s face shadowed. No doubt thinking of the hunt and the consequential amazing blowjob.

  Sexual tension sprang harder between us, itching my skin, making my cock swell.

  My voice turned gruff as I added, “Ever since he was broken in, Wings has been used to me sneaking into the stables and going for a ride in the dead of night. He got a small sleep in today. I didn’t saddle him up until four a.m.”

  Nila nodded, soaking up my confession as if I’d announced the epicentre of why I was fucked up.

  “You didn’t have any shipments to take care of?”

  I narrowed my e
yes. “How do you—” I cut myself off. Kestrel. Of course. The weeks they’d spent together meant she would probably have a good idea of the sort of wealth we smuggled and the amount of shipments completed since she’d arrived at Hawksridge.

  “Why can’t you sleep?” she asked. We ran side-by-side, leaving the gloom of the forest and trading mud for the gravel of a pathway.

  I looked up. My heart clamoured.

  Shit, we’re on the wrong track.

  I didn’t want her to see what was up ahead. Not yet. I was sure my father had some sick agenda to show her when she fell out of his good graces, but I didn’t want to break her again. Not so soon.

  I’d avoided the place most of my life. It held only terror. So, why the fuck were we running toward it? It was almost as if she’d been summoned by forces outside my comprehension.

  A chill darted down my back at the thought. I slowed my pace.

  Nila looked back, decreasing her steps to match mine. “Are you going to answer me?”

  What, why can’t I sleep?

  “No.”

  I had no intention of answering. There was no easy response, and she knew far too much about me already. Trying to distract her, I said, “Why do you have to run?”

  She ran a hand over her forehead, wiping away glistening sweat. “To re-centre myself. At home, it was the only time I had to calm my mind. The deadlines, the demands—it all stole something that I only found again when I was alone with just my frantic heartbeat to keep me company.”

  Shit.

  Her answer was fucking perfect.

  I swallowed hard as a glow of more than just lust washed over me.

  She understood. She dealt with the same pressures, the same expectations. Only her flaws were visible to everyone, while I hid mine as best I could.

  Admit it. The moment you saw her on the catwalk in Milan, you knew.

  I fisted my hands, trying to stop the conclusion from forming.

  But it was no use. My mind delivered the crushing knowledge with fanfare and barely hidden relief.

  She’s the same as you. You could tell her.

  No fucking way would I ever tell her.

  I didn’t want to feel anything for her, but I did care. Enough to stop her from seeing what existed ahead. I might not want her in my brain, but I didn’t want her in pieces, either.

  I slammed to a halt. “Nila. Stop.”