Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

J asmine

“You scared me, little koala bear. You ran. I don’t know why but what I do know is that we’re not finished talking about this yet. You will get one stern spanking.”

“I didn’t mean to,” I whispered. As I stared into the small mirror, I sensed I was still in some kind of horror. I was covered in dried blood.

He was behind me, reaching around to wet down a soft cloth. When he turned me around, the look in his eyes came close to tearing me apart. He gently wiped my face, every so often rinsing the red substance under the faucet. I slanted my eyes so I could watch the ruddy color swirl in water, slowly trickling its way into the drain.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

I couldn’t react, couldn’t breathe. How could anyone who’d been through such a horrible ordeal possibly be able to just shove visions and memories aside?

Exhaling, Braxton lifted my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Everything is going to be okay. Do you hear me?”

“How?”

“Because I never back down from anything.” He continued wiping my face and neck, his gentleness no longer surprising.

I had no defiance left inside of me, none of my typical rebellious nature that I’d shown him countless times before. I was drained and still scared, trying to make heads or tails of what had occurred. But the overwhelming need for him remained. I rose onto my tiptoes, lightly brushing my lips across his.

I’d expected him to push me away. When he gathered me into his arms, his breathing as labored as mine, I clung to him as I’d done so many times before, but for an entirely different reason.

The chivalrous man had become my lifeline.

He crushed my mouth as he’d done before but the rush of sensations and emotions wasn’t about sexual tension needing to be fed. The electricity shared between us was more about worry and need, the feeling that one or both of us could have died.

For a few precious seconds, as he swept his tongue inside, tossing the cloth and cupping my face, I allowed myself to feel like a princess who’d just been rescued from the castle.

It would be so easy to fall in love with him, but I wasn’t that kind of girl.

No, I wasn’t that kind of girl at all, or so I’d told myself my entire adult life. Maybe that’s why my relationships had consistently failed over the years.

The realization made me laugh even as the memory of the heated kiss sent a trickle of desire down my spine. I pressed two fingers against my lips, wanting them to be sore instead of every muscle and bone in my body. I’d been told by the resort’s doctor that the aches and pains would get worse before they got better because of the crash.

That was the single reason Braxton hadn’t carried through with his promise of punishment. I was certain of it.

He’d made the statement regarding his disciplinary intentions with both massive hands on my arms, peering down at me from his tall perch as if providing discipline was just a normal part of life.

My response?

I’d been stupid enough to tell him I was a good girl. Obviously, I’d still been delirious after the kiss. He’d laughed, given me a chaste kiss on the forehead and had told me to rest up.

And the man I craved, the gorgeous Braxton had settled near the group of men to handle business. Okay, so he’d only been a few feet away, but I’d felt so alone.

Blood.

Brains.

Chips of bone.

They were the things nightmares were made of. Right? They were supposed to be out of movies, not real life. For all the moments of danger my father had told me we’d been in over the years, other than our family driver speeding along the interstate, there’d been few times we were in harm’s way.

Maybe I’d just been oblivious or hadn’t cared enough. I’d experienced fear twice that I could remember. One was when my car had been driven off the road prior to me leaving for college by some unknown bad driver. I’d heard Dugger had followed him, beating the crap out of the man.

The second time had been when shots had been fired outside a restaurant. Now that I looked back on the experience, it seemed as surreal as what I’d been through not once but twice.

But being fourteen at the time, I’d managed to funnel out the level of danger, only one nightmare afterwards. How I wasn’t certain. It certainly wasn’t from being coddled by my parents. There’d been law enforcement officers and reporters who’d camped out on the grounds, yet I’d been secured in a wing of my parents’ estate. Come to think of it, the two months after the shooting had felt more like being a prisoner than a family member.

I’d been so used to being cooped up and alone that the entire situation had seemed almost normal. God, I’d been sheltered back then, so much so I was surprised I’d managed to fly to a new country to spend the better part of four years.

Braxton had taken the time to question me once again, asking me about Maggie and what I knew about this Jameson Bishop he’d mentioned on several occasions. I’d had enough difficulty remembering Maggie’s last name and anything personal about her let alone someone my father had known. He’d almost seemed perturbed but had suggested I take the sleeping medication the resort doctor had prescribed.

Not a chance in hell.

Sleeping pills were what nightmares were made of. I knew that well, my father slipping them into my ice cream to keep me quiet while guests had been downstairs.

It had resulted in another near tragedy, something I hadn’t talked about since I was seven or eight. Or ten. Time meant nothing when you did your best to block out an event. Now it was plaguing the front of my mind.

I placed one hand on my arm, holding a glass of wine with the other as a light chill coursed through me. The moon was bright in the sky, pulling at the gentle waves. The giant orb seemed brighter than I’d ever seen, the shimmering reflection of light on the water’s surface breathtaking. As I breathed in the salt air, I was shocked how relaxing the location was.

Paradise.

The term did indeed describe both islands, but I had to admit the one near St. Martin was my favorite and I’d yet to see the resort in all its glorious detail. I’d expected we’d be staying in another gorgeous yet sterile suite in the main resort, which was similar yet more tropical than the one near St. Thomas. I was glad to see I was wrong.

I’d never been to a place like this, the private villa the kind all the travel magazines took photographs of, highlighting the Caribbean blue waters and tiki-style building.

The promise was always the same, blissful romance, forgetting both life and all your sins.

That wasn’t possible at this moment. Just being here was a stark reminder my fairytale had jagged edges, many of them icepick sharp. But… That didn’t mean I wasn’t breathless from the view, the warmth, the light breeze drifting the scents of various tropical plants and flowers, and the incredible luxury of what should be a rustic environment. And yes, the company.

Even the flight, as nervous as I’d been since I hated small planes, had added to the surreal moment of luxury. Champagne, brie cheese as well as others, fresh fruit and fabulous meats had lured me into enjoying myself. My stomach had been in knots the entire time, but Braxton had done everything possible to provide anything I needed.

The long flight had allowed me to close my eyes, which was shocking on several levels. I was sleepy yet antsy, angry and still fearful. And I missed him. Braxton had secured me away in the fabulous series of buildings on stilts, insuring I had everything I’d needed before recommending I rest.

As if that was possible.

Three huge men had accompanied us, the same ones I’d managed to escape from at the hotel. I sensed they were leery of me, the largest man named Jack eyeing me as if I was the enemy. Okay, I’d shown up the skills it was obvious he and his men had, but I was the last person they needed to worry about.

While I’d relaxed, or tried to, Braxton had alternated between making phone calls and having discussions with Jack and his team. After a few minutes of hearing them discussing danger and keeping a secure watch on the island, I’d tuned out the conversations altogether. Being lost in my own world of pretend suited me much better. Even though it was a falsehood.

The events of a few hours before seemed as surreal as the first abduction attempt. To me, the memories and images floating in my mind were like watching one of my favorite thriller movies. While the bump on my head hadn’t been concussive, there was a slight ache that still remained right behind my eyes.

After all the time, hours and hours since the attack, I still felt cold inside. Numb. Maybe that was better than the panic that had nearly driven me into a catatonic state. Some of the details I couldn’t remember, which I had a feeling was good. However, there were fleeting visions, two men, one of them dragging me into the back of the SUV.

And the fact one had gotten his brains blown out.

I hadn’t realized it until Braxton had helped me change shirts on the airplane.

He’d remained as disheveled as I’d felt, some of the stone edges he’d encased around himself cracking.

Exhaling, I took one more look at the ocean as I rubbed my arms before heading back inside to the luxurious bed I’d been provided. He’d acted as if I wasn’t required to stay with him, which was somewhat of a surprise.

But his words had been so clear.

Keeping me safe was his main objective, which meant we weren’t on a romantic getaway. I knew that. I’d finally accepted the fact my father’s world had placed my life in danger. But still. This was paradise after all.

I returned to my suite, placing the wineglass on the nightstand, thumping down on the soft mattress. The dull rumbling of some show on the TV had been nothing more than noise in the background.

The early quiet had nearly driven me crazy.

I pulled the covers over my legs, yanking a pillow closer to the end of the bed so I could curl my arms under me and watch. He’d left for a short period but one of Jack’s men had remained behind, now openly carrying a weapon.

It was odd to be here all alone, wishing he was holding me so we could watch some silly movie. That wasn’t what our lives could ever be about. I honestly wasn’t entirely certain what my life would be in the future at all. Certainly not what I’d hoped it would be.

I knew it had to be after one in the morning or later. The smart thing was for me to try to get some sleep but I was too wired from facing near death.

Whatever show I was watching was boring and I rolled over, staring up at the ceiling. My knees were bent and as I used to do as a kid while on the phone, I stomped my bare feet. Braxton was right, both my body and mind needed sleep. I rolled over, enjoying the comfort of the soft bedding. I’d taken a quick, hot shower before sliding into my boy short PJs. At least I had a few of my things.

At least it seemed Jack and his band of merry men had left perhaps thirty minutes ago. Maybe I could get some rest. I huddled deeper under the covers and closed my eyes.

After taking a deep breath, I was certain the lull of the television noise would be enough of a sleeping pill. Until I found myself tossing and turning only a few seconds later.

I spun onto my stomach, pounding my fists on the pillow. Something caught my attention and I lifted my head. For a few seconds, I was terrified. What if someone had already found us? What if no one would stop them from taking me?

Oh, for God’s sake. I knew I was exhausted and still in a mild state of shock but give me a break. I’d never been this kind of chick and I wasn’t going to start now.

Hissing, I threw back the covers, forced to untangle my legs from underneath. I needed to find Braxton. That’s all there was to it. Maybe it was because I needed him. Period.

What did that say about me and how I’d changed over the last few days? Had it not been a lifetime instead? Whatever the case, this was a far cry from my home. Maybe that’s why I felt like a different person.

I moved from my bedroom to the one he’d given himself, pausing in the doorway. He had a single duffle bag placed on the bed untouched. I couldn’t tell if he’d done anything other than toss his inside.

The air wasn’t chilly, but I still felt empty inside, holding my arms as I headed to the other villas that were attached by beautiful decks and walkways. Some were swinging with rope, including the one leading directly into the water. I was eager to take a nice swim in the morning. I had packed a single bathing suit after all.

I headed into the living room and kitchen, still marveling at the open floor plan, the incredibly comfortable furniture that was so inviting, and the soft LED lighting transforming the ceiling of both rooms into something magical.

But it was empty. So were the decks and walkways.

Still, I could feel him. But from where? How? Was our connection that intense? I’d heard it said that once you lived through a tragedy with someone, you would always be connected. Maybe that was the case with the two of us.

My entire body was tingling as I walked toward the railing off the living room, which allowed me a different view of the pristine beach. Private. Secluded. So tropical I could envision a television show filming here.

Even with the beautiful rays of the bright moon, I had to strain to try to make out shapes on the beach. At first, I was certain I’d feel fear but the moment I noticed someone doing nothing more than sitting on the beach, staring out at the ocean, all I could think about was the true joy I’d felt from the day I’d met Braxton.

No matter how much like oil and water we’d been, the feeling of longing was strong, so much so I found myself taking one step then another until I was able to sink my toes into the sand.

I couldn’t be silly enough to accept this was love, nor did I want to risk my heart to anyone, but there was nothing I wanted more than being with him.

That said volumes about the changes made in my mind, my soul.

And my heart.

But what would happen when it was all taken away?