King's Command (Fire & Vice Book 3) Read online

The only noticeable effect her fidgeting had on him was the huge erection she felt growing against her backside. She froze, her breathing becoming shallow as a new fear sprang to her mind. He had been staring at her with such intensity in the club. Did he want her in that way? These men could do anything to her. The only people she knew in the city were Anya and her boss at the café. The small Russian woman was still a mystery to her, and her boss knew so little about her she likely wouldn’t have the first clue where to look if Claudia disappeared. Not one other person in the world knew she existed here.

  The three men in the car looked like hardened criminals to her eyes. She had no doubt each one of them had engaged in heinous acts prior to kidnapping her, especially the one that had touched her head. The aura of violence surrounding him was so intense that she was sure people gave him a wide berth when he was out in public. An imaginary band tightened around her chest, constricting her breathing. How did she manage to get herself into these messes?

  “Breathe, Claudia,” Tyson’s voice rumbled in her ear again, his breath stirring the hair against her temple.

  Claudia shivered, but nonetheless tried to get more air into her starved lungs. Something about his calm voice reassured her that she wasn’t about to become a statistic of random violence. Even if she were in trouble, she would need a clear head to fight her way out if a chance for escape presented itself.

  His movements swift and sure, Tyson shifted her off his lap and into the seat next to him. When his hands reached for the skirt of her dress, Claudia’s much smaller hands flew to his wrists automatically and pulled uselessly. He only tugged the skirt down a few precious inches, surprising her. He placed the small clutch purse she had been carrying with her in her lap and then reached around her to pull a seatbelt across her upper body and engage the latch. He did the same with his own belt then turned to face her.

  The whites of his eyes were the only part of his face she could make out clearly in the darkness. They were firmly fixed on her.

  “The door lock is engaged on the inside, don’t bother trying to open that door until it’s released,” he said.

  Her tense body relaxed slightly. She had indeed planned on waiting for the car to slow down enough that she might be able to somehow get her seatbelt off, the door open and then jump into the road before he could grab her again. It was an unlikely plan, but it was all she had. She found his statement almost reassuring. She hadn’t been looking forward to the amount of her bare skin that might come in contact with the pavement if the car was moving when she managed to get out.

  “Why are you doing this? Where are you taking me?” she asked, glancing out the window at the passing buildings. The club had been located in a somewhat unsavoury area of downtown. They were speeding past the dilapidated buildings toward the nicer end next to the river.

  He ignored her first question, but answered the second. “We’re going to my penthouse.”

  Claudia shifted in her seat, edging her knees away from where they rested close to his. He was such a big man that his body filled most of the roomy back seat of the vehicle. If she had to guess, she would say he was around 6’4” and close to 300 lbs. She wasn’t a small woman, but he had held her as easily as he might a child. One of his massive fists could easily kill her with one blow.

  As if sensing her discomfort, he spoke easily. “I’m not going to hurt you, Claudia. That was never my intention.”

  “What is your intention then?” she demanded, trying to make her voice sound snappy, but she knew the waver ruined any hope she had of sounding like she was in complete control of herself. “Because forcing me out of that club and into your car isn’t a very good start at convincing me of your good intentions.”

  He only continued to stare at her and she thought he might not answer. Finally, his deep voice rumbled, “I didn’t say my intentions were good, just that I have no intention of hurting you in particular. Don’t make the mistake of thinking I might be a respectable man, Claudia. Keep that in mind.”

  Claudia shivered and glanced toward the front seat. The other two men were ignoring the pair in the back seat as though their jobs were that of statue and driver. That was exactly what they were, she realized, employees of Tyson King. They weren’t his friends. This thought wasn’t a comforting one. Friends might argue with Tyson’s decisions regarding to the woman he had plucked out of the club and forced into his car. Loyal employees would follow his orders blindly. Which includes helping him make a woman disappear quietly.

  “Stop worrying,” he said, “there’s nothing you can do right now. Just relax, we’ll be there soon, then we can talk.”

  She sensed he wanted to reach out and touch her, but was holding back in an attempt to avoid frightening her further, which confused her. Upon brief acquaintance with him, she suspected he was the type of person that didn’t care what others thought of him. That he took what he wanted without consideration of others, much the way he had snatched her up. But rather than doing what he wanted with her, he was holding back. For now, anyway.

  They turned into the parking garage of one of the most exclusive high rises in the city. Claudia stared up in awe at the monstrous tower through her side window as they waited for the garage door to slide open before driving inside. Maybe once they were parked and out of the car she could try to alert someone to her plight, if there was anyone in the parking area. At the very least, she could make sure she was seen by one of the security cameras.

  Rather than parking though, the driver steered the car toward what looked like a huge industrial elevator. Momentarily forgetting her immediate problem, Claudia’s jaw dropped as the huge doors, opened and the car was driven onto a platform. The doors closed with a bang and a jerk as she felt the uneasy sensation of being transported upward in an elevator. She gasped and continued to look out of her window into the brightly lit car lift as it ascended. She had no idea this sort of thing existed except for in James Bond type movies.

  After a minute the doors opened onto what could only be a private garage near the top of the high rise. Other cars filled the garage, drawing Claudia’s notice. She wasn’t even close to a car expert. And while she didn’t know what kind of car they were in now, she thought she saw a sleek black Jaguar, a red Ferrari, what looked like an older model Mercedes and several black SUVs with dark tinted windows.

  Her shocked gaze met Tyson’s. Who was he? And what the heck did he want with her? He looked back at her, his eyes dark and probing, as though trying to divine her thoughts.

  The driver parked the car in a spot near a set of glass double doors leading into some kind of private lobby. Tyson unbuckled her seatbelt and pulled her across his seat to leave through his door. Taking hold of her arm once more, he led them through the doors and into the lobby with another set of elevators.

  His hold was less a way of making sure she wouldn’t run again and more of a proprietary touch. Where could she run to anyway, she thought bitterly? She suspected she wouldn’t be able to find her way out of this massive penthouse space even if she spent a few days trying, let alone the seconds she might actually have if she was able to somehow break his hold on her arm.

  Tyson turned to his men, “I’m finished with you both for the night. I’ll call tomorrow if I need anything. Mercer, no one disturbs us tonight.”

  Both men nodded, though Mercer’s piercing golden eyes met Claudia’s for a split second. The coldness there nearly made her step closer to Tyson for protection against his protection. Mercer might be good-looking in the classical sense with a bearded, chiseled jaw and high cheekbones – better looking even than Tyson King – but his terrifying demeanour would certainly stop a woman’s gaze from lingering. Claudia would be happy if she never set eyes on him again.

  She hoped fervently that she could resolve this situation with Tyson quickly and get away from his scary empire unscathed. If she managed that, she vowed to move to the middle of nowhere and become a recluse. Maybe then she would manage to stop getting mixed up with mob typ
es.

  Tyson’s men took an elevator. She noticed the light above the other elevator indicated the others were going down. They were probably on the top floor of the building. She shivered, beginning to feel like Rapunzel, trapped in a tower. Only she was trapped with the bad guy and she feared he would kill any prince that tried to steal her away.

  “Come,” he said, turning toward a door at the end of the hallway.

  Claudia had no idea what to expect when they entered his home, but she had assumed from the evidence of his wealth so far that it would be ostentatious. She was surprised to find that, while it was certainly grand, it was furnished with rusticity in mind, almost like a very expensively decorated cabin. The high ceilings sported wooden beams that ran from one end of the open floor plan to the other. The stainless steel kitchen dominated one section of the room while the rest was dedicated to plush leather furniture, a massive fireplace and wood flooring. Once more forgetting that she was possibly the victim of a kidnapping, Claudia stepped into the penthouse and stared around with unconcealed appreciation.

  “You like it,” he said, his words a statement rather than a question.

  She nodded, stepping over to the windows to stare out at the sprawling view of the city below. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured.

  “Good,” he said, coming up beside her. Only, rather than the view, he stared at her, his eyes glowing in appreciation. “It’s important that you like it here.”

  Claudia tilted her head up to look at him, heat from his body reaching out to warm her chilled skin. Though she wanted to hate everything about him, a part of her revelled in the warmth, wanting to step closer and seek more of that heat.

  “Why?” she whispered. “Why is it important that I like it here?”

  He reached up to touch the softness of her cheek and run a finger down the side of her neck until it rested across the delicate skin over her collarbone. She shivered at the contact. It felt good, but the underlying possessiveness of his light touch wasn’t lost on her.

  “Because you’ll be staying here with me, Claudia.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  She had known on an instinctual level that the man wanted her, so she wasn’t entirely surprised by his response. She stepped back, attempting to put space between them. His hand dropped from her, but his knuckles brushed across the peak of her breast, tightly wrapped in the dress. Her body responded involuntarily, a spear of attraction shooting through her.

  “What if I say no?” she asked, breathlessly. “What if I want to leave? Will you let me go?” She knew the answer before he spoke.

  “No, I’m afraid that’s not an option, Claudia.”

  “Why?” she asked, the constrictive band tightening around her chest once more. “That’s… that’s kidnapping.”

  He stepped back, pulling his suit jacket off his huge shoulders and laying it casually across the back of a couch. “For several reasons,” he spoke, as he pulled cufflinks off his shirt, dropped them into his pocket and rolled the white sleeves of his dress shirt up his muscular forearms. Dark tattoos swirled up his arms drawing her eyes. They looked both beautiful and pagan. “I want you here, and I always get what I want, Claudia.”

  Short gasps of breath escaped her. “But why do you want me here?”

  He swept her entire body with a long appreciative look, his eyes taking in every curve. “You’re a very beautiful woman Claudia, you’re every man’s fantasy come to life. I think it would be fairly obvious why I would want you here in my penthouse.”

  Claudia wasn’t a particularly self-effacing type of woman, however she wouldn’t have described herself in quite that way. She was slightly overweight, not something she had a problem with, but she wouldn’t think in a world that adored super thin model-like women that she would particularly draw the notice of a man of Tyson King’s caliber. Her hair was too long and un-styled to be considered fashionable and her features were even, but not particularly remarkable.

  “But why like this?” she asked. “Why would you force me to come here? Why wouldn’t you just ask me out like a normal guy?”

  “Would you have agreed to go out with me if I had walked up to you at that coffee shop you work at and asked you out on a date? Could you see us going to dinner and a movie?” he demanded. “Tell me honestly, what would your answer have been?”

  She eyed his massive proportions, took note of the intense sexuality and barely leashed violence in his demeanour and shook her head. She bit her lip and answered truthfully. “I probably would have said no.”

  He nodded, not disturbed by her response.

  “I still don’t understand why you’ve brought me here, tonight,” she persisted.

  He sighed and rubbed a huge hand over his dark hair. “I saw you several weeks ago at one of my banks and had planned on pursuing you in a somewhat normal manner. Of course, I had to do a background check on you to find out if there were any flags I should be aware of before proceeding with an intimate relationship.”

  She frowned at his casual invasion of her privacy, remembering that particular bank trip she had taken. She usually banked online, but she’d needed to upgrade her debit card and had gone into the King Financial branch to replace her current card. She hadn’t seen Tyson King. She would definitely have noticed a man that looked like a vicious linebacker wearing an expensive business suit.

  “When I received the report,” he continued, “I was somewhat concerned by the lack of information in Claudia Cantore’s past. It’s rather convenient that her parents died in a car crash when she was eighteen, leaving her with enough money to live independently and mostly off the radar. Also interesting is the lack of information about her past residences. It’s almost as though she didn’t exist before she popped up here eight months ago, that her past was a convenient and incredibly normal story. Too much so.”

  Panic flashed across Claudia’s face before the expression was smothered with a neutral look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Ignoring her denial, he continued. “I pulled a few strings among my government contacts and found out that Claudia Cantore doesn’t actually exist. That she’s an alias for Alicia Pedersen, a twenty-nine year old woman who was born and raised in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada. A woman whose parents are very much alive and worried sick about their missing daughter.”

  Darkness started to engulf Claudia’s vision and she swayed, reaching blindly for something to hold on to. Without realizing it, she grabbed hold of his arm as he reached for her. Gasping, breathy sobs escaped her lips unbidden. She brought a hand up to cover her mouth and tried to force her body upright, tried to tell herself she needed to face this man who knew too much about her with all of her strength restored. But the enticing blackness surrounding her vision called to her.

  She felt the world tilt beneath her and thought she must be fainting when the buttery softness of the leather couch met her back. Tyson had lifted her up, placed her on the couch and now stood over her frowning. He left her for a moment and returned with a glass. He lifted her head and shoulders with an arm around her back and placed the glass against her lips.

  “Drink,” he said softly.

  Claudia did as he told her and sipped the liquid. As she suspected, it was whisky, which burned a path from her throat down to her belly. Warmth spread across her clammy skin, chasing away the chill of his words. She leaned up, away from the muscular bulge of his arm. She grimaced at the taste of the strong liquor. But desirous of the courage it would give her, she wrapped her fingers around the glass, taking it from Tyson. When he stepped away from the couch, she curled her legs under her and huddled into the corner.

  Sipping at the whisky, she looked up at him. He stood towering over her, frowning fiercely. His arms, crossed in front of him, emphasized the bulk of muscles that rippled up his arms and chest. Ordinarily she could appreciate the view, but at the moment she was far too worried about her immediate future.

  “What… what else did you find out about me?
” she asked, frightened of finding out, but knowing she didn’t have a choice. She had to understand what kind of a threat Tyson King constituted in her world, besides the fact that he wanted to have sex with her.

  He studied her face, still frowning. “I’m not sure we should continue this now. You came damn close to fainting when I said your real name and mentioned your parents. I’m not sure if you’re up to hearing more.”

  “Please,” she begged softly, “I have to know what I’m up against. I need to know exactly how much danger I’m in.”

  His frown turned even darker and he dropped to one knee in front of her. He was so tall that, even kneeling, his head still topped hers by several inches. He placed an arm across the cushion next to her body and the other one gripped the back of the couch on the other side of her head, trapping her.

  “You need to understand one thing here, Claudia. You’re in the safest place you can possibly be at the moment. No one can harm a hair on your head as long as you’re under my protection.”

  “Am I?” she asked breathlessly. “Under your protection, I mean?”

  “Baby, you had my protection the moment I looked up and saw you standing in line at the bank, smiling and chatting with the complete stranger behind you,” his deep voice rumbled.

  “What if I leave?” she asked. “Won’t they find me? Like you said at the club, if you could find me… then they might find me.”

  His dark eyes bored into hers. “Dante Marquez and Franco Delgado you mean?”

  She flinched at the names of the Mafioso guys that were most likely trying to track down her whereabouts at this very moment. The ones that she had betrayed. She nodded.

  “They won’t find you here. Niccolo DeLuca is an old friend of mine. You’ve heard his name before?”

  Claudia nodded slowly, her eyes wide. She had heard the name of the Italian whispered in tones of awe and fear by her former boyfriend and many of his crew. Though she had never laid eyes on the man, she knew he was a powerful person.