Hard Core (Onyx Group) Read online

  Something twisted in Slade’s chest. He didn’t care. These people meant nothing to him. Yet he’d come back to help them.

  Her fault.

  Maybe he needed to bed her. Maybe then he could have his focus back. It had been a long time, he admitted that, but not long enough he’d lost his objectivity. He should be halfway to Ross’s palace right now, not standing outside an ancient church, bleeding, hurting, and watching a woman through a window.

  He’d torn his stitches when he hoisted that tree. And as much as it galled him, he wanted Alana to heal him. Needed to feel her soothing touch.

  He cursed the weakness and turned from the window to stalk through the night to her hut. He didn’t have the answers, wasn’t sure he wanted them, but he knew one thing for sure. She had a hold on him and he needed to shake free.

  He could think of only one way to do that.

  After he got his fill of her, he would leave.

  And never come back.

  * * * *

  Exhausted, Alana walked into her hut, stripped out of her wet clothes without the aid of a lantern, and left them on the floor. Stiff, sore and plain worn out, she shuffled toward her bed. The storm had injured many, demolished a couple houses, but taken only two.

  She already shed tears for Madal and Cendela, wishing they didn’t have to bury anyone, but grateful they weren’t burying more. The storm had passed, leaving behind a warm, humid aftermath. It clung heavily to her skin, making her long for the waterfall, but she was too tired to walk there. All she wanted was her bed and to forget Cristian had come back and then disappeared again.

  He’d come back.

  Confused, she rubbed her aching temples. Why did he come back? But if he hadn’t…

  No, not going there. The boy was safe, nothing else mattered. He suffered a broken leg, but he was alive. She would never get the chance to thank Cristian, doubted he’d even listen if she tried, but she would never forget the sight of him standing in the rain, soaking wet and shirtless, muscles bulging.

  She swallowed hard and pushed her hormones down. They ran rampant again. They always did when it came to him.

  God, she was tired.

  Alana fell into bed.

  “You’ll bleed all over your sheets, Doc,” he murmured from across the room in the darkness.

  Alana jumped, hissing out a breath. His voice, so low and husky, so masculine, slid over her and caused her belly to tighten.

  Absently, she reached up and touched her shoulder. Warm blood seeped onto her fingers. How did he know she was bleeding? She’d forgotten.

  “It’s just a scratch,” she said, distracted by the images that filled her head. Images of a half-naked Cristian helping save that boy’s life.

  “I should look at it.”

  “You’re not a doctor.” And she wasn’t in any position to be close to him. Her nerves were frayed, her emotions running high. The last thing she needed was for him to touch her.

  “Expert opinion?”

  “Of course. Besides, you’re the one who needs tending. You ripped your stitches, didn’t you?” There would be repercussions from his heroic act, though he’d never admit it.

  She didn’t expect him to answer, knew he wouldn’t. Weary, she pulled the blanket off the bed, wrapped it around her like a toga, then reached for the lantern. He wouldn’t let her stitch the wound again, but she could put a bandage on it to hold it together as it healed.

  She found the lantern and lit it, illuminating the room in soft glow. Cristian stood in the corner, shoulders braced against the wall. Her breath caught. He seemed larger than life in the small space, his presence as intimidating as his build.

  Something dark and forbidden shone in his eyes. Muscles tightened low in her belly. She swallowed past a suddenly dry throat. He’d come back. But why?

  She wasn’t aware she’d spoken the thought aloud until his expression hardened. He straightened, pushed off the wall.

  “Hell if I know,” he said, low, angry. “Put a Band-Aid on that scratch, Doc.” With that he was gone, walking once again out of her life.

  Alana dropped down on her bed, breathing hard. He was wrong. He knew exactly what he wanted and she wanted it too. Oh, God, how she wanted it. She didn’t want to be alone tonight.

  But she would be.

  She turned out the lantern and slid into bed and closed her eyes. Yes, alone was her life. And very soon she would be more alone than she’d ever wanted to be.

  * * * *

  Slade slung a rifle over his shoulder and strapped a knife to his ankle, mouth set in a grim line. Leaving was the best thing to do. He’d chanted it inside his head all the way here.

  Not even the pain in his side dulled the image of Alana’s naked silhouette, or his reaction to her clothes hitting the floor inches from where he’d stood. Just knowing she slept nude set his blood on fire. Mental images filled in the rest.

  Forget her.

  He had a job to finish.

  With jerky movements, he uncovered the rest of his gear from where he’d buried it days ago. He always kept a backup stash. Just in case a job went wrong. It didn’t happen often. This one had. In more ways than one.

  He didn’t need the money. Hell, didn’t want it. Especially now. It wasn’t worth being tied up in knots. He’d never wanted like this before, never needed like this. He didn’t want things, sure as hell didn’t need anything. He acquired numerous houses because he needed more than one home base for security reasons. Or so he told himself. Needing a place he felt secure in had nothing to do with it.

  Bugs circled his head, some went in for a bite. Ignoring them, he finished with his gear and covered his tracks. Daylight descended, bringing unbearable heat and humidity. Slade ignored that too.

  Focused now, he left the hiding place and crept through the jungle toward his target. This time he would not fail.

  * * * *

  Alana came awake slowly, lifting heavy eyelids after a restless night. She felt more tired now than when she’d gone to bed. Something had awakened her, but not a nightmare. She frowned and stared at the wall, her thoughts cloudy. There were no tears staining her cheeks. So what…

  A hand clamped over her mouth. Terror raced through her as a body covered hers and pinned her to the bed.

  She turned wide eyes to a man she had seen many times during her stay on the island. Ross’s man. She knew him by the scar that cut across his forehead.

  He smiled down at her without warmth. “Ah, senorita,” he drawled. “You are awake.”

  She bucked beneath his weight. Fear snaked down her spine. Ross had honored their agreement thus far. Why would he send for her now? And why under the cover of darkness? He made no secret about how he felt and what he wanted.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” Her captor dragged her to her feet. His gaze raked over her naked body, but she didn’t care. If he touched her, Ross would kill him. He’d also made his intentions clear to his staff.

  “Let me go,” she ordered, tugging against his grip.

  “Sorry, senorita, you’re coming with me.” He reached for her and she fought, but he struck her, his fist snapping her head sideways. Pain exploded in her cheek. She stumbled back onto the bed, tasting blood.

  Stunned, she stared up at him as he reached for her clothes on the floor. With a scowl, he tossed them at her.

  “As much as I’d like to indulge,” he said, “there is no time.”

  And Gavin Ross would kill you. She dressed quickly, feeling sick. As soon as she pulled on her second boot, she lunged for the door.

  The guard cursed as he pounded after her. She threw open the door and flew over the threshold. He hit her from behind, tackled her to the ground hard, knocking the breath out of her, and dragged her back inside the hut. Dawn had barely broken. Everyone still slept after the night they’d had.

  He flipped her onto her back, straddled her, and pulled back his arm. The last thing she saw was his fist heading straight for her jaw.

  * * * *
/>   Slade cursed a blue streak as he walked into the small village, ignoring the looks he received. They weren’t ones of hostility, but of respect and gratitude. It made him damn uncomfortable. He helped move a damn tree. It didn’t change anything.

  “Cristian,” a man greeted him softly in English. “What are you doing out of bed? Does Alana know you’re out and about?”

  The name threw him off balance the same as when Alana spoke it. Only this time it came from the thin, pale man who’d tended him in Alana’s place. He had the same green-gray eyes as she did. Her father, he guessed, since they were the only two Americans here except for him and Gavin.

  “She knows.” Images of her beautiful, weary face and naked, bruised and bleeding body, flashed through his head. She’d risked her life for that boy and it ate at him. He’d come back to tell her what a fool she was.

  Oh, hell. That wasn’t the reason he came back. She was. The look in her eyes before he walked out last night haunted him. She wanted him. And it wreaked havoc on his peace of mind. He had a job to do and she tripped him up. He couldn’t have that. Couldn’t work like this.

  He needed to forget her. Needed…fuck. What was this woman doing to him? Nothing and no one had ever distracted him from a job before.

  “Can we talk?” the man asked as he fell into step beside him.

  “I’m not staying.”

  “This isn’t about that. This is about my daughter.”

  The absolute last thing Slade wanted to talk about. One look at the man’s expression and Slade nodded his agreement before following him into a nearby hut, identical to Alana’s. Except when he stepped inside, books surrounded him. Shelves and shelves of them. It must have taken days to transport all of them into the jungle. Even longer to put them together. How had the books stayed intact in this wet environment?

  “Sit, please.” The man gestured to one of the wooden chairs in front of a tall bookshelf.

  Slade sat and waited.

  The man sat across from him, his movements slow as if they caused him pain. “I feel I must intervene on behalf of my daughter,” he began, giving Slade a hard look. The protective father. “She is just like her mother, God rest her soul. Self-sacrificing and stubborn to a fault, both of them. I fear my daughter has put us all in danger with her high moral ground.”

  Slade remained silent. He knew where this was going.

  “We are a peaceful people, Cristian. We don’t want any trouble. Whatever you’re into, it makes no difference to us as long as you keep Gavin Ross away from here.”

  “Done.” A promise he could make.

  The man nodded. “Now, about my daughter. I know of your phobia for needles and I gather you are a private man, but where Alana is concerned, I must protect her at all costs. She can be a determined woman when she puts her mind to something. I cannot allow you to hurt her again.”

  Slade did a double take and searched the man’s aged, pale face. He didn’t think the man was as old as he looked, but looks could be deceiving. “What did you say?” he asked, deathly quiet. He wasn’t his father. He didn’t hurt women. The bruises on Alana’s body proved someone had mishandled her.

  Determination shone in the man’s eyes, though they both knew he was no match for Slade. He respected the man’s devotion. A father should protect his daughter. At all costs.

  “No one blames you, Cristian, and we won’t condemn you for any actions performed while in a state of delirium. But know this. Now that you are coherent and healed, you will stay away from my daughter. I’ll take over your care.”

  A first for him. He’d never been warned away from anyone’s daughter before. Then again, he’d never stayed in one place long enough to form any kind of relationship, until Mariette. He wasn’t the kind of man women took home to meet the parents.

  This man accused him of putting those bruises on Alana. That he was the one who hurt her. It twisted his gut.

  “I don’t hurt women.”

  The man’s eyes turned soft. “I’m sure you don’t normally. It’s all right, Cristian, we forgive you.”

  Slade shot out of his chair. It tumbled over with a crash. “Stop calling me that,” he ground out.

  “All right, I will. Just calm down.”

  He was calm, he just needed to break something. Hit something. Erase the images of Alana, naked and bruised, from his head. Before they destroyed him completely. He had done that to her. While she treated him, healed him, he’d hurt her. For that he would never forgive himself. Acts like that were unforgivable.

  With a two-ton brick sitting on his chest, Slade gave the old man one last look and stalked out the door. Hearing his given name, knowing he was responsible for hurting Alana, and being jacked into the past made it hard to breathe. He’d take physical pain over this any day of the week. Physical pain he could control. This, he couldn’t outrun.

  He had to get off this island.

  Before it was too late.

  Chapter 9

  “Wake up, darling.”

  The soft order brought Alana awake with a groan. She lifted a hand to her head and opened her eyes. The deeply tanned face of Gavin Ross appeared above her where she lay on a gigantic bed in an unfamiliar room.

  “How are you feeling?” her host questioned, sounding genuinely concerned.

  “What am I doing here?” She wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries, no matter how important they were to this man. He was always a perfect gentleman, but beneath that polished veneer lay an evil man who did bad things. Like murder an entire tribe because they were in his way.

  Bitterness rose in her throat. “Your guard hit me.” She sat up in the king-sized canopy bed. The mosquito netting was tied back, leaving nothing between them.

  “I apologize for that. He has been…reprimanded. No one here will harm you again.”

  Except him. He was the most dangerous predator on the island.

  “Would you like some ice for the swelling?” Gavin reached out to touch her jaw.

  Alana pulled back. In three months she would have to find a way to accept his touch, but until then he wasn’t laying a hand on her.

  “I don’t want any ice. Why am I here, Gavin? I still have three months left.”

  When he didn’t answer right away, her heart fell to her toes. “I have three months,” she said again.

  He folded his hands behind his back. “We don’t need to discuss this now. Why don’t you take a shower and change into more suitable clothes. After lunch, we’ll talk and I’ll explain everything.”

  Alana climbed out the opposite side of the bed to put distance between them. “No. You’ll tell me now.”

  Anger sparked in his eyes. “Fine. I’d rather you know the truth of the situation anyhow. I must break our deal. I need you.”

  “Need me?” she repeated. His words hammered through her head. “Why?” Part of her didn’t want to hear the answer. Not even six months could prepare her for what she had agreed to do.

  “Not important tonight. I will explain everything in due time. Just know that your father and tribe are safe from me. As long as you uphold your end of the bargain, I will uphold mine.”

  Mind reeling, Alana shook her head. “You can’t be serious. You’re changing the rules. You can’t do that.”

  “I can, and will, do whatever I want, Alana. I honored your request six months ago when I didn’t have to. You best remember that. I apologize for the timing, but I need you now.”

  Alana fisted her hands at her sides. Someone wake her from this nightmare. “I don’t understand. You’re taking me away from my family. I can never see them again?”

  Gavin’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry it has to be this way.”

  “Why?” she whispered, unable to comprehend. The thought of never seeing her father again hurt too much to accept. She was losing him to cancer and now wouldn’t be there to spend his last precious days with him.

  “You have enough burdening you for now. In time you’ll see why I did it and you will forgive me
. I’ll give you this day to come to terms, and tomorrow we will start over. A new beginning. You’ll see, darling. Good things are in store for us.”

  He walked to the door and paused on the threshold. “I’m forced to lock the door until you have accepted what is now your life. I have confidence it won’t take long. Rest, darling. Tomorrow all will be well.”

  With that, he walked out the door and closed it quietly behind him.

  * * * *

  Joseph O’ Grady watched from his doorway as the man known only as Cristian disappeared into the jungle. He didn’t try to stop him, knew he couldn’t. Maybe it was for the best. His daughter didn’t need more trouble from Gavin Ross. This man was connected to Ross, he just didn’t know how.

  Cristian was dangerous. Not because of his actions against Alana, but because he was a man with secrets. A man that closed must be hiding from something. Joseph didn’t want his daughter involved. He wanted her to give up this life. It had been a good idea when he and Alana embarked on this journey, but it was no life for a woman such as her. Alana had given up her life for him, selflessly, without complaint. Dropped out of her internship to follow him here.

  It had been a reprieve for both of them as they struggled with Joan’s death. Losing her mother had been tough for Alana, as tough for him, and maybe coming here hadn’t been a fresh start, but an escape. He realized it now. Realized the mistake he’d made in bringing his daughter along with him when he grieved, trying to make sense of the world. In doing so, he’d robbed Alana of the life she could have had. He carried that burden every day. His daughter had suffered a terrible loss when her mother died, and now she would lose him to cancer. He’d made peace with it, but she hadn’t. Would she ever?

  The hardest part of it was he wouldn’t be there to help her through it. No man could ask for a more dedicated, loyal daughter. Her world revolved around him and the tribe she called her family. She’d sacrificed everything for him. He was a lucky man to have such a devoted daughter, but the time had come for her to move on. He’d given it a lot of thought the past year and come to the conclusion that what she needed was not here. She’d served her time and now she needed her life back.