Hard Core (Onyx Group) Page 21

  * * * *

  Slade gripped Alana’s waist, staring up at the beautiful, naked woman riding him. Her head was thrown back, her fiery hair cascading down her back and brushing erotically against his thighs. Beautiful. Soft, sensual, sexy. She made love like she did everything else in her life, with complete selflessness and commitment.

  A flush spread across her chest as her movements and breathing quickened. Her fingertips dug into his chest. He wanted to take over and drive into her, but he let her set the pace, take what she needed from him. Her appetite for sex was insatiable. The more she got, the more she wanted, and it turned him on. He’d been with women who liked sex, but it had never been like this. He craved her.

  “Oh, yes.” Alana’s breathing quickened with her pace. Slade held on, along for the ride, wanting to remember her like this. Free, uninhibited, confident and sexy. Taking what she wanted. In control.

  “Cristian,” she moaned as her body bucked with wave after wave of her climax. His tore through him with the strength of a tidal wave, his fingers digging into her hips.

  Afterward, Alana collapsed against his chest. “That was amazing,” she breathed, pressing her lips against his collarbone. “I’m hungry.”

  Slade smiled into her hair. “Stay here.” He rolled her off him, then climbed out of bed. She sprawled languidly, a satisfied smile on her flushed face, completely oblivious to her nudity.

  He paused a moment to look at her. Red hair splayed across his pillow, smiling, relaxed, beautiful. This was how she should be. Not haunted by tragedy and loss. Not hunted by a madman.

  “Bring me a glass of water too?” She rolled onto her side, hugging his pillow.

  Stepping into his pants, Slade left her to gather food and drink, his chest tight. He was not the man for Alana, but he would make damn sure she was free to live and love. He would hunt Ross to the ends of the earth if he had to. Alana would have her life back. That, he vowed.

  He returned a few minutes later with sliced fruit, bottled water, crackers and cheese. Alana sat up, tucked her legs under her and held her hands out for the offering. He set the tray in the middle of the bed, shucked his pants, and joined her.

  They ate in comfortable silence until the tray was empty. He set it aside, turned out the light and lay down. Alana curled into his side with her head on his chest. Normally he would pull away or leave after sex, not wanting the complications. With Alana, he found he wanted to stay.

  After a few minutes, she spoke quietly in the darkness. “Who is Mariette?”

  Sucker-punched, Slade stiffened. “How do you know about Mariette?”

  “You mentioned her name while you were with fever.”

  “I said too much.”

  “You didn’t say enough. Who is she?”

  Slade stared up at the ceiling. “The first woman I ever cared about.”

  “Did you love her?”

  “Not enough.”

  “Why not?”

  “She didn’t know my true identity. I never told her my real name. She knew me as Cary Sayer. The name I enlisted into the French Foreign Legion under.”

  “You were a soldier?”

  “A long time ago. I left home at seventeen and started traveling.”

  “Your father beat you,” Alana said quietly.

  “Christ, I told you that?” Was there nothing he didn’t tell her? Maybe the names of the men he’d killed? The names on the deeds to his houses. Hell, the numbers to his bank accounts.

  “Under the influence.”

  He sighed. Too late to turn back now. “Yeah, my old man was a bastard. Blamed me for Mom leaving.”

  “She left you?”

  “When I was six. Just up and left while I was at school. She never came back.”

  “Does that have anything to do with your fear of needles?”

  He rubbed a hand down her arm, needing to touch her to ward off bad memories. “I was taken away for a year and put in foster care. Should have been better than with my old man, but it wasn’t. My luck, I got foster care parents who drugged their children to make them sleep all the time so they didn’t have to take care of them. They would stick us with needles full of whatever to make us sleep. I hated the way I felt. Like a zombie most of the time.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her voice was soft, full of emotion he didn’t want to hear. He’d gotten over it a long time ago. She didn’t need to feel sorry for him.

  “Don’t be. Someone found out what they were doing and the kids were shipped to new homes. My old man somehow convinced the state to give me back. They were overloaded, so it probably didn’t take much to convince them. I went back, but left soon after. Haven’t talked to him since.”

  “That’s when you started traveling?”

  “Yes. I lived day to day, took odd jobs to survive, and ended up in France. I liked it there. It felt comfortable. The Legion became my family. I met Mariette at a corner cafe while on leave in Nice. We connected. Every leave I took was to see her. I became Cary Sayer, with my past firmly behind me. I reinvented myself with the Legion and Mariette. And for awhile it was enough.”

  “She began to want more,” Alana guessed.

  “Yes. She started asking questions, probing into my past. Wanting to know me. I evaded and she let it go. But it hung between us and I knew she needed more. I couldn’t give it to her. Until I went overseas and almost died in an ambush. I decided that day, I didn’t want to die alone with my secrets. I was going to tell her everything about me on my next leave.”

  “What happened?”

  “I returned to discover Mariette had been hit by a car on her way back from the market. It was our one-year anniversary. She had a special dinner planned. Had all the groceries when it happened. The guy fell asleep at the wheel. They told me she died instantly.”

  Something wet landed on his chest. He reached down and lifted Alana’s chin to see tears glistening in her eyes. “Why are you crying?”

  “I’m crying because you won’t.”

  He frowned. “What?”

  “That is a tragic tale, Cristian. You lost the woman who mattered most to you. You loved her enough to tell her your secrets. It’s sad.”

  “I didn’t love her. I wasn’t supposed to tell her everything.”

  “You think her death was a lesson to you? To stop you from revealing who you are to the next woman?”

  “It worked that way for a reason.”

  “Yes, but not as a lesson to you.” She rose up on an elbow to stare down at him. “You told me your real name.”

  “Under the influence.”

  “I don’t believe that. You wanted me to know. Just like you wanted me to know about Mariette. So you could warn me off.”

  He cocked a brow. “Warn you off?”

  “From getting too close. Falling for you.”

  Feeling closed in, Slade distanced himself emotionally. He wanted no part of this conversation. He wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of guy and talking about feelings made him damn uncomfortable.

  “See, you’re doing it again.”

  “Go to sleep.”

  With a long-suffering sigh, she lay down beside him. “You can’t close yourself off to the world. It isn’t healthy.”

  “Goodnight, Doc.”

  “Goodnight, Cristian.”

  Long after Alana had fallen asleep, Slade lay awake staring into the darkness. After Mariette, he had put a wall between him and any chance of a relationship. Left the Legion, rolled around for a while, and found Onyx Group. The fit had been perfect. He could use his sniper skill and training to provide a lifestyle he wanted. It suited him. He was damaged goods. No woman deserved that. Not Mariette, and not Alana.

  Maybe he had told Alana about Mariette to warn her off. Or maybe he’d wanted to tell someone the secrets he kept buried.

  Or maybe he was a damn fool wrapped up in the best sex of his life with a woman who turned him inside out.

  Whatever it was, he had to put an end to it. Didn’t know how the hell he
was going to do it. Because he didn’t want to leave her side.

  “Fool,” Slade muttered into the dark and closed his eyes, shutting out his thoughts.

  Better to not go places he didn’t belong.

  * * * *

  Alana sipped her coffee, avoiding Mercer’s eyes as she waited for Cristian. He was taking her shopping for clothes this morning. Risky, but necessary.

  “So, how’d you break the glass?” Mercer helped himself to a croissant off the plate sitting between them.

  Although she had cleaned the broken glass up, she still hadn’t been up before Mercer. He’d been making coffee when she emerged from the bedroom while Cristian was still in the shower.

  Not sure how to answer, she grabbed a croissant and tore it open. Mercer handed her the butter knife he just finished using.

  “You’re good for each other.” He slid the gourmet strawberry jam across the table to her.

  Alana’s head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

  Nonchalant. “You and Slade. Come on, Doc. What’s going on between you two?”

  Heat crept up her neck and she busied herself smothering her croissant with jam. “You’re seeing things,” she muttered.

  “So I’m told. Hey, I’m all for it. Slade needs someone to humanize him. Maybe he’ll take some much-needed time off.”

  “Why? Does he work too much?”

  Mercer bit into his pastry. “More than what is deemed healthy.”

  “You worry about him.” She stared at Mercer in wonder. Cristian was blessed with good friends and he didn’t know it. The man was just too stubborn for his own good.

  Mercer bristled, shifting in his seat. “Men don’t worry.”

  She hid a smile. “I won’t tell him.”

  “Tell me what?” Cristian strode into the room, looking sexy in dark slacks and a cream-colored sweater that hugged his muscular frame. His hair was damp from his shower, his jaw clean-shaven. He looked dark and sinfully delicious.

  She looked over to see Mercer watching her in amusement. Quickly averting her eyes she said, “Nothing. There’s one more cup of coffee in the pot.”

  Cristian poured himself a cup and leaned back against the counter to study them. “I don’t like the idea of you traipsing around the city like a bull’s-eye.”

  “This city is huge. Even if Gavin was here, he would never find us.”

  “It’s risky.”

  “And I have no clothes to wear. If it’s the money, I’ll pay you back. As soon as I get on my feet.”

  “It’s not the money. I don’t care about that. I can’t protect you in the open.”

  Croissant finished, Alana waved him off. “We’ll be fine. I’ve got two bodyguards. What more can a girl ask for?”

  “Someone else to go shopping with,” Mercer muttered, rising from his chair. Clearly, he didn’t like the idea.

  “Suck it up.” Alana took a sip of her coffee.

  “You women have no idea what it’s like for a man to be dragged through store after store searching for the perfect pair of shoes.”

  Something inside Alana brightened. Shoes. It had been so long since she’d worn anything but boots. She couldn’t wait to get a pair of strappy heels. “It sounds like you have experience in this sort of thing.”

  Mercer put his cup in the sink. “I had a girlfriend who loved shoes more than she did me.”

  “Ah. Well, I’m ready when you are.” She was anxious to get out for a while. And finally have clothes to wear that were more her style than the borrowed cowboy shirt and jeans.

  Both Cristian and Mercer groaned softly. But they followed her to the door anyhow.

  Chapter 20

  Heaven. Alana spun around in front of the dressing room mirror, checking herself out from the front and behind. The white with vintage floral black print silk dress fit like a dream. The Old Hollywood style had caught her attention the minute she’d walked into this upscale shop. Cristian insisted they shop here and not somewhere less expensive. She didn’t argue too much. She would pay him back the second she got back on her feet. Besides, he had great taste in stores.

  Biting down on her lip, feeling like a princess getting ready for the ball, she slipped out of the dress and put it in the yes pile, which was growing by the second, bulging with designer jeans, blouses, slacks and pencil skirts. She’d also thrown in warmer clothes and accessories. Except for shoes. They hadn’t been to that department yet to get a pair of two-tone heels to match the dress. And a purse. Right now she had nothing to put in it, but soon she would get her life back together.

  Someone knocked lightly on the door. Thinking it was the sales clerk, she cracked it open and poked her head out.

  It was Cristian, looking painfully patient. “We’ve been here too long.”

  She glanced at the clock on the far wall and saw that an hour had passed. “I’m almost done. One more thing to try on. I also need to go into the shoe and lingerie section.”

  “Lingerie?”

  “And shoes. They’re on the second floor. You can wait down here. I won’t be as long picking items in either department.” She had already scared Mercer away. He stood by the front doors, scowling at anyone who approached.

  “Ten minutes.” Cristian pulled the door closed.

  Alana shook her head. Men. They just didn’t understand shopping. It was therapeutic, rejuvenating. And right now she needed both. Just buying new clothes made her feel more in control.

  Quickly changing back into her borrowed clothes, she grabbed the yes pile and opened the door. The sales clerk, a petite young woman who reeked of expensive perfume, stood close to Cristian, very obviously flirting. When she batted her eyelashes, Alana rolled her eyes. The woman was wasting her time. Cristian was not the bat-your-eyelashes type of man. But that didn’t stop the wave of jealousy washing through her.

  Berating herself for being jealous over a man who would never belong to her, she stepped out of the dressing room and let the door slam lightly behind her. The sales clerk looked up, startled, then backed off when she saw Alana.

  “Finished with those?” she asked, reaching for the clothes in Alana’s hand.

  “No, I’ll take these. The reject pile is in the dressing room. You’ll take care of that, won’t you?”

  She was being bitchy and petty, putting the woman in her place, but she didn’t care. It was too soon for her to think about Cristian with another woman.

  The clerk forced a smile and went to retrieve the clothes. Alana turned to see Cristian frowning at her.

  “What was that about?” he asked.

  “Nothing. A mistake. I’m going upstairs. Are you coming?” Not in the mood to wait, she pushed her pile of clothes at him and headed toward the elevator.

  She had no right to treat the clerk that way. Who could blame the woman? Cristian was a single, potent, attractive man. They might be sleeping together, but nothing more. Once he eliminated Gavin, they would go their separate ways. She would begin a new life and he would go back to his. Neither of them wanted commitment.

  Certainly not her. What did she have to offer? Right now, nothing. She wouldn’t let Cristian take care of her forever. She already hated it, even if only for a short time. She didn’t like being kept. She could take care of herself.

  Soon, she would prove that.

  While she sailed through the lingerie and shoe department, Cristian waited patiently by the elevators, holding her things. She’d have thought he’d be out of place in a shop like this, but oddly, he fit right in. And she wasn’t the only one who noticed. He received glances from every woman in the store. It made her irritatingly possessive. She didn’t want to be a jealous, possessive woman. So why did Cristian gaining so much female attention bother her?

  Snatching a black lace bra and panty set, Alana scowled. Time to get out of here. Before she did something completely stupid and made a fool of herself. More than she had already.

  Carrying a handful of undergarments and hosiery to where Cristian stood, she
laid them on top of the shoes she had picked out. “I just need to grab a handbag on the way out.”

  Cristian nodded and followed her into the elevator. The women who had been eyeing him watched, staring in disapproval and disgust at Alana’s jeans and shirt. For the first time ever, she felt uncomfortable in her own skin.

  Once the doors closed, she leaned back against the wall and crossed her arms over her waist, feeling inadequate.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Cristian asked as the elevator glided smoothly to the ground floor.

  “Nothing.”

  “Liar.”

  She glared at him. “Are you blind? Those women were judging me. I used to be one of them.”

  “Good thing you aren’t anymore.”

  Sulking, she muttered, “Yeah, good thing.”

  “Alana, you know those women are soulless and vain. Why would you be upset over what they think? They don’t know you. They have no idea what led you here. What you’ve been through.”

  She looked at him. “They don’t, do they?” Blowing out a long breath, she leaned her head back against the wall. “I wouldn’t have even these clothes if it weren’t for the generosity of Sam’s foreman’s wife. I lost perspective. Thank you.”

  He held the clothes aside and leaned in close so their lips were inches apart. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “You didn’t?” she murmured.

  “No. You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?”

  She swallowed, unaccustomed to hearing such tender words from him. Unable to speak, she shook her head.

  He growled low in his throat and ground his lips down on hers. It wasn’t the romantic kiss to fit his words, but she would take it. Anything Cristian wanted to give her, she would take. Somehow, this man grounded her. Made her feel she could conquer the world. Like she would make it through this with minimal scarring. She reached for him.

  The doors opened. Cristian pulled away, standing back so she could exit.

  With a tiny smile she hurried off the elevator.

  They returned to the penthouse and she went to Cristian’s room to go through her purchases and change into something more suitable. Something that didn’t remind her of Sam and the danger he and Caleb were in. It doused her shopping high and brought her back down to reality. She had clothes to wear now, but danger still lurked.