Page 31 of Lord of Debauchery

Beckham’s tone was still smooth like velvet, perhaps even more so, but he was back to being all business. The difference this time was that he was pretending to be a businessman and not what he was.

A criminal.

I knew his type far too well. I knew what he was made of and how he operated.

It should do nothing more than scare me to death, not be a sensual draw, but here we were sitting closely together, and I was almost as aroused as I’d been before.

“If by that you’re asking if I am or have been a cop. The answer is no.”

“Hmmm… Well, I doubt you’re a notorious criminal on the run. That leaves me with more curiosity. However, I’m guessing you have a stash of weapons at your house, which is only another mile from here. Am I correct?”

He was very worried there would be another attack. “Fine. Yes, I have a few but it’s not like I store much ammunition.”

“As long as it buys us enough time to get to the airport, that’s all I need. I assure you I’ll replenish your stock once you’re allowed to return home.”

“What about paying me for the damage caused to my beautiful establishment since you know how little money I have? In addition, you’ll need to make up for the business loss I’ll have over this next week or however long you decide to keep me as your prisoner. And you’re going to triple the payment for my hospitality. I hope I’m making myself clear.”

The wicked grin from the night before returned to Beckham’s face.

“She’s a tough one, boss,” Jeff said almost as if I wasn’t sitting in the backseat a mere two feet from him.

“Yes, she is. Would a check be sufficient?” Beckham was clearly almost as amused as the day before, but it would seem he was also mindful I wasn’t just a girl with an hourglass figure and a business to run.

“I prefer cash.”

He allowed his grin to become a full smile. “That can be arranged. If you’re a very good girl while you’re my… prisoner, then I’ll throw in a bonus.”

“Oh, goody.” The way he exaggerated the word jabbed at my anger, but I could do nothing but create more hardship for myself, which I didn’t need. “You’re one arrogant asshole of a man. Has anyone ever told you that before? Let me guess. If they had then you would have put a bullet in their brain.”

He shifted his gaze to Jeff, who was watching the play by play with amusement. This time he didn’t respond, merely keeping his heated gaze focused solely on me. I shuddered inwardly, refusing to allow him to see he troubled me in any way.

As Camden pulled into my gravel driveway, this was the single time I wished I had close neighbors. I was thrown by the way it made me feel to see the little house I adored. It wasn’t that much but it was mine, including the six acres of land. Everything in Maine was such a far cry from what little I had in New York.

I’d felt as if I could breathe here, free from the chains I’d allowed myself to be placed in. Maybe I was destined to be some asshole’s prisoner for the rest of my life.

Camden stopped the car, keeping it idling while climbing out to allow Beckham and me to exit onto the gravel. I already had my keys in my hand, the strange sense I’d never see the place again almost pushing me into another emotional moment.

I yanked it back, moving ahead of them to the front door. At least it hadn’t been shot up.

Yet.

As soon as I opened the door, Beckham pulled me aside, shaking his head silently then nodding to Jeff. As a dutiful soldier, he already had both hands secured around his weapon. Oh, God. This was very real. His soldier was checking to ensure no one else was inside the house.

Given the size of my little Cape Cod in comparison to the bed and breakfast, it took no time for him to search every room.

“Clear,” he said as he returned.

I walked inside, pushing aside Jeff. I knew he was just doing his job and that the stakes were high for the great Kennedy organization, but they were for me as well. I stood a significant chance of losing everything while Mr. Handsome decided to play cops and robbers. Or whatever it was called in his line of work. I found it fascinating that while he and his family obviously used old world mafia tactics, including killing anyone who got in their way, they insisted the corporation was legitimate.

What? Billionaires gone bad?

I was pulled back by the great, sexy man, his eyes piercing mine as he stared down at me. I knew my acts of anger and defiance weren’t helping in the least. I also gathered the reason I was so angry, other than the obvious, was that I’d allowed my guard to fall for a few hours.

And look what had occurred.

Total chaos.

My bed and breakfast walls were stained with blood. I shivered even as similar electricity we’d both experienced attempted to heat up my skin and every red blood cell to a million degrees.

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