Page 19 of The Vigilante's Lover
I’m so sensitized that I almost cry out when he grazes my shoulder. My breathing is fast again. When he says, “Feet wide,” I almost can’t comprehend his command.
But I take a step out and the device makes its close path up my leg. I almost long for it to touch me, for him to be unable to resist. But he’s careful, and doesn’t make any contact with the panties or my thighs.
He steps back, arms crossed over the gray suit, watching me.
The cold grips me. I feel brazen enough to say, “You could have just used your wand while I was still wearing the gown.”
His laugh ripples across the empty fields. “This was much more enjoyable.” He shakes his head. “I don’t think I’ve captured a Phase One Trainee quite as beautiful as you before.”
He thinks I’m beautiful. He’s the first person to ever say it.
The wind picks up, tossing my hair around. With my hands bound, I can’t move it off my face. I try to picture myself in the red ropes, standing in the moonlit field with this dangerous, ungodly handsome man.
Something odd is happening to me. I’m almost naked, wrapped in red rope, hands tied, completely vulnerable.
And yet I feel more powerful than I have ever felt in my entire life. I’m not Mia anymore, not the one curling up alone in her old-fashioned nightgown. I’m a woman who gets into dangerous liaisons with strange men who strip her down to bondage rope and doesn’t flinch.
“So, Mr. Jax De Luca,” I say in a voice I’m not quite sure is my own. “You’ve got me right where you want me. But you have no information, no clue about your missing Klaus, and you’ve kidnapped and stripped an innocent woman in a field. What are you going to do now?”
Jax continues to watch me. His eyes are dark and unreadable in the moonlight.
“I like you, Mia.” His eyes drift along my body. “I like you a lot.”
I feel like I’m on fire. I have nothing to lose here. If he was going to hurt me, he already would have. I take a timid step forward and lean against him. “Then get me something to wear,” I order him.
Jax laughs. “Yes, I think I’m going to enjoy you a lot.” He turns to his trunk and drops the wand in. He pulls off his own silk jacket and wraps it around my shoulders, buttoning the front. The backs of his hands brush across my breasts and they perk up. I have to fight against inhaling sharply. I’ve never felt like this before, but I want more of it. I want to go wherever this man goes. I want to keep feeling this way.
“I think I’ll keep you for a while,” he says. He opens the back of the car, but this time when I get in, he doesn’t tie me down.
I think this might be progress for both of us.
11: Jax
Who is this girl?
I drive most of the night. I watch her in the backseat. After about an hour, she lies down and falls asleep. Her hair is wild and tangled around her face.
Something tickles in my belly, something annoying, something like interest. I force it away and focus on the task at hand. I can’t just waltz into a Vigilante silo with a naked woman in bondage rope. If her information is wiped, no telling who she is.
I refuse to allow any thought that she might actually be innocent.
Ordinary people have Identipad entries that are pages long. Social media accounts. Addresses. Records. I can see every filling in their teeth and every bad grade on their high school transcript. There is nothing the Vigilantes haven’t compiled on every citizen of every country. People make it too easy with their long digital trails, interconnected with everyone they know and every place they’ve been.
But Mia is blank. Her parents too.
Then I realize, so is my family.
When they left the network, retired, their identities were erased. It’sa courtesy.
But this girl. She’s a working girl. She was in a safe house.
I rub my eyes. Nothing should be hidden from me. Before Jovana and my prison sentence, I was next in line to take over the entire North American syndicate. That would include this beautiful girl and her aunt’s Tennessee home. I should know them. Be able to see their histories, functions, and allies. Even if they are wiped. Even if they have special classification.
And yet, I can’t.
They could be transplants from another syndicate. Russian, maybe. Or someplace small. Norway. Mia’s features are very delicate. Her hair is a mix of brown and gold.
Damn it, who is she?
