The cabby rode the horn.
“Wait,” I breathed. “You need a doctor.”
He limped away. “Forget it. I’m gone.”
Cradling a hand to his ribs, he scooped up his belongings and headed for the exit. Wind rushed the lobby once the automatic doors slammed back. It blew the flaps of his jacket open, but he didn’t button up. A heaviness squeezed my chest when he winced as he eased into the cab. It was insane. I was actually worried about him. Oh, God, was I losing my mind?
I was about to slink away when the taxi pulled off, but the brake lights flashed twice. The vehicle backed up and lurched to a stop. Muffled shouts followed and the door flew open with Trace tearing out of the cab.
Pain must have stabbed him because he winced again, then yelled a litany of four, five, and six-letter-words. The cabby barked a choice word in answer, then flipped him the bird and roared off. Obviously, the man recognized him and decided he posed a danger.
I watched Trace’s shoulders fall, like all the fight had been sucked out of him, and compassion welled in my heart. As if in a trance, I stepped through the automatic doors, closing the distance between us. Tall as a god, he towered over me. His shadow blocked what little sunlight squeezed past the clouds.
Snowflakes drifted while we studied each other, but this time, his gaze bore an intensity and wonder that rippled through every cell in my body. For a moment, I’d have sworn I’d seen a flicker of the boy who’d taught me to dance.
He tilted his head to the sky and snow melted on his bruised face. “What’re you doin’, Shannon?”
Good question.
I hugged myself, sifting through a labyrinth of emotions. Yes, I had big doubts about him, but if he’d wanted me dead, he wouldn’t have tried to save me. As for the gossipers, since I’d been seen with him twice, the damage was already done. Besides, I needed to talk to him. Desperately. So I decided to shove my doubts aside.
For now.
“I was about to call for a car,” I said. “Do you need a ride?”
TRACE
____________________________
If someone had told me I’d be riding in anything owned by a Bradford, I would’ve thought they were nuts, but the day had been full of surprises.
As the sun fell below the horizon, a black stretch limo pulled into Temptation Memorial. Steam hugged every inch and a dewy row of tinted windows lined either side.
I watched a thirty-something driver with curly blonde hair exit the dark beast. Decked out in a topcoat, leather boots, and a cap, he looked familiar to me.
“Good evening, Miss,” the man beamed. His zeal was as cheesy as the smile he wore.
Shannon looked annoyed. “Gerard, I only asked for a car.”
“Your aunt said the limo would be roomier—for your leg.”
That seemed to piss her off even more. She gave a put-upon sigh, squared her shoulders, and after whispering something to the driver, she disappeared inside.
No doubt about it. I’d entered an alternate universe.
I glanced at the lobby. Half a dozen sets of hate-filled eyes were lasered on me. Eddie and his two inbred cousins, Dumb and Stupid, were among them.
What a steaming pile of dung I’d fallen into. Truth be told, I was bone-tired, my body felt like a giant knot of pain, and I was freezing my ass off. Forget the mindless sex. All I needed was a bed. Oh, and the bottle of Herradura. Yeah, I still wanted that.
Goldilocks cleared his throat. “Sir?”
His hands were clasped behind him while he tipped back and forth on the balls of his feet. Wait a minute. Now I remembered him. The little snot used to work for Lilith. Probably fucked her for all I knew.
“Will you be riding with Miss Bradford?” he asked me.
I raked my gaze at the sky. So these were my choices: I could stay out here and freeze. Be the main attraction at the sideshow in the lobby. Or take my chances with Shannon.
Unfriggenbelievable.
With a weary sigh, I slipped inside the limo and settled across from Shannon. Fear nudged my heart when Goldilocks closed the door, but a feeling of safety soon rivaled it. Strange how close quarters gave me a bizarre mixture of security and panic.
I took a calming breath and sized up my surroundings. The thick burgundy carpet beneath my feet didn’t feel half as good as the warm, marshmallow-soft leather that cradled my body.
I relaxed, sank into it—quite a change from Icky’s hunk of junk. The VW’s dirty interior had been bone-bare, except for the hive of wires jutting out from a hole where a radio should’ve been.
I watched Shannon through hooded lids while we taxied toward the main road. She’d draped her coat across her lap. Her torn jeans revealed a bloody bandage on her knee, and her left cheek was bruised.
She stared out of her window, doing her damndest not to look at me. It played out on her face, the war that raged inside her, a war I’d probably incited. She seemed frustrated and confused, like a woman trying to force a rope through the eye of a needle.
I could relate.
She broke the silence. “I left my cell phone at Briar, so—”
“That’s where you live? With your aunt and uncle?” The question leapt out before I could yank it back.
“Actually, they live with me. Now, as I was saying—”
“How is that?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Father willed Briar to me. It’s been in his family for four generations.” She straightened, started picking invisible lint off her coat. “After Mother’s…death, Auntie and Uncle closed Cheltenham Manor and we went to Briar.”
Mother’s death? Talk about an understatement. Moving right along. “You don’t mind being there with everybody?”
She arched a brow. “It’s a big house.”
Another understatement. Briar Hall was huge.
“Now,” she said with a breathy sigh, “I’m afraid I forgot my cell phone. You can use the one up there, if need be.” She nodded at the tinted window behind me. It separated us from the driver. Then she produced a hanky. “Here.”
“What’s this for?”
“Your lip. It’s bleeding.”
I leaned forward to claim the dainty fabric. When our fingers brushed, she pulled away like I’d singed her with hellfire. Yep, this would be a very long ride.
The scent on the lacy fabric—Shannon’s scent—was hard to resist, so I took a whiff. It smelled rich and seductive, like smoky grapes or something, and damn if it wasn’t giving me a hard-on. Like the one I got in the lobby when our bodies touched. Speaking of which, I took a generous look at her slight frame. Wasn’t long before my cock started pressing against my zipper. Aw, yeah, she was all grown up now. Then again, after twelve years in the joint, Popeye’s girlfriend could probably get a rise out of me.
I crushed the hanky in my fist as my mind stumbled over the same roadblock. Why’d she help me? Her threat to Eddie had fangs behind it. While the Grays were high up on the totem pole, the Bradfords owned the damn thing.
When Shannon’s Uncle Sears wasn’t playing legal eagle, he moonlighted as head honcho of the Bradford Group, a nonprofit foundation with a gazillion subsidiaries. Shannon’s cousin Mead had served two terms as New Dyer’s mayor, and was a shoe-in for next year’s governor’s race. Even Eddie’s daddy, Sheriff Gray was Shannon’s godfather.
I glanced out of my window at the grime and decay of Temptation, comparing it to Shannon’s golden world, good ole Willow’s Corner. In her pricey neighborhood, red brick colonials stood tall, capped with a thick down of milk-white snow. Chimney smoke made the quiet setting look warm and friendly—like a fucking Hallmark card.
But I knew better.