Page 29 of Claim Me
She didn’t deserve to lose her only family.
As I gathered her into my arms, her soft murmurs left me feeling aroused. She was so light in my arms, an even stronger reminder she was fragile, easily broken.
Or was she?
Spanking her had been necessary, the action calming her immediately, yet when I’d noticed her pussy lips were swollen, glistening from desire, I’d come very close to losing all sense of control. That wasn’t acceptable. No matter Charlie’s death, she was still his sister and completely off limits.
Another murmur and she lolled her head toward me, briefly opening her eyes. They were out of focus, but she smiled and nuzzled closer, placing her palm against my chest. While she whispered something I didn’t understand, at least she wasn’t fighting me. My guess was that once the shock completely wore off, a new struggle would begin.
Curtailing her normal actions was also necessary, but not something she’d understand or accept.
The Cape Cod had a loft and a bedroom upstairs, and two other bedrooms downstairs. One she used as a guest room while other was a music room complete with an older upright piano, bookshelves of music, and an older stereo where she still played albums on the phonograph. The incredible baby grand took up half the living room, but with music being her life, I could understand why the rest of her furniture was sparse.
I headed into her bedroom, flicking on the switch by the door. The room was decorated in shades of deep purple, one accent wall providing thoughts of passion. Exactly like her indulgence in music and the way her fingers flew across the keyboard.
With her remaining in my arms, I jerked down the comforter and top sheet, easing her down. She took a deep breath, immediately rolling onto her side. Very gently I covered her, tucking the thick comforter around her upper arms.
After turning on the small light on her nightstand, I took a step back, studying her as I’d done several times at this point. At least she was still peaceful. She needed her rest as the next few days would be trying as hell.
Fuck the asshole for taking her brother’s life from her.
As I moved toward the door, her soft mews drew my attention once again. The array of feelings drifting through me was stronger than before, the need to touch her making this a difficult if not impossible situation. I’d need to keep my distance and given her continuing defiant attitude, I would guess that would be her preference.
After leaving the door open a crack, I jogged down the stairs, immediately unrolling my sleeves, buttoning them, and grabbing my jacket. The sooner I discovered exactly what I was dealing with, the quicker I could make a qualified decision of what the future should entail.
Headlights reflected off the glass and I reached for my weapon, moving toward the side of the bay window. Ryker climbed out seconds later. I glanced over my shoulder. There was a back door, one of my men already stationed only yards away in the dense section of trees located on three sides of her house. I didn’t like the placement of her house. With a road less than a quarter of a mile behind and another leading into the small subdivision, anyone hoping to end her life had ample access.
I opened the door as Ryker stepped onto the porch.
“I’ll keep her safe,” he told me.
“Stay outside for now. If she awakens and I’m gone, there’s a chance she’ll try and escape.” A small car remained in the driveway, which meant she’d been taken to the airport. I’d found the keys in her purse, pocketing them. That didn’t mean she didn’t keep a spare. She was clever, more so than I’d given her credit for.
“Will do. I’ll check with the other men every fifteen minutes.”
“Call me if you detect anything.”
“Yes, sir.”
I headed to the rental car, glancing at the surroundings before climbing inside. What a fucked-up situation to find myself in.
One that could become even more deadly.
Someone had been inside Charlie’s house. Few people would notice, the indications subtle. Whoever had been inside had been a professional, not an angry enemy determined to locate something that belonged to him. But I’d been trained in the art of detection. Pictures were slightly out of place, lines in dust that had formed.
Papers were too neat on his desk and a single drawer was still cracked open.
Plus, a light had been left on in his home office, which I doubted Charlie had done. The biggest indication was a boot print caked on the back deck. Charlie’s feet weren’t that large.
A mistake, but one that boosted the danger level. Whether the person had been inside before or after shooting Charlie didn’t matter.
With my weapon in hand, I checked the entire house. He’d done well for himself, his collection of art alone worth millions.
I moved to the bedroom, thankful he’d been intelligent enough to hide the safe’s entrance behind a heavy dresser. If someone had tampered with it, they’d been unsuccessful. The code worked and within seconds, I was holding a large envelope in my hand.
Written on the outside?
For Kazimir
