Page 34 of Tamed

I wasn’t a man who lost control of himself. Not ever. My furies burned hot, but I measured out that heat bit by bit. Old Nick had been the same, and he’d taught me how to feel it, how to let it burn, yet also how to keep it contained. Uncontrolled fury was a sure way to lose your grip on both yourself and your command of other people, which was always a bad thing when those other people were waiting for a slip in order to drag you down.

Anger was useful when it came to keeping people in line, he’d said. Especially controlled anger. It made people afraid, and fear was an extremely useful tool when it came to ruling the kind of organization I’d once ruled.

Old Nick had been wrong about a great many things, but that wasn’t one of them, and so I kept control of my temper.

But only just.

I’d been at the bar, chatting with Soraya, the bartender, when I’d seen a flurry of movement by the door. I wouldn’t have thought twice about it if it hadn’t been for that flash of red hair.

Automatically, I’d glanced over at the doorway, because red hair for some reason set all my senses on high alert, just in time to see a woman in a gold dress, already turning away and heading for the exit.

For a split-second I’d thought it was nothing. Then instinct had kicked in, because there was no mistaking the red curls spilling down her back. No mistaking them at all.

It was Isabel and for some reason instead of being safely ensconced in my Central Park apartment, she was here. At Arcadia. My high-end bar/sex club. And her security detail was nowhere in sight.

I’d moved without thought, striding after her, and thank fuck for the group coming through the front door, and Andre taking his time to greet them, because she’d had to wait for them to disperse. But by the time I’d got there, she was already reaching for the front door to pull it open, and she would have been out of there like a shot if I hadn’t reached out and grabbed her arm, holding her fast.

Fury was fire in my veins.

After everything I’d told her, after all the warnings I’d given her, here she was. On her own. Without any protection. Fuck knew what happened to her detail, but they were already fired.

“Come with me,” I ordered in her ear, and before she had a chance to react, I tightened my grip, turned, and marched her over to the stairs that led up to the private rooms on the next level.

She’d gone stiff with resistance, and it was clear that I wasn’t the only one who was angry; I could feel the fury pouring off her too.

“Walk.” It required no effort at all to sound hard and cold, leaving no room for protest. “Because if you don’t, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you. And don’t think for a second I won’t do that.”

“Fuck you,” she said through gritted teeth.

But she stopped resisting and walked with me as I hustled her up the stairs and down the hallway at the top.

There were mostly private rooms up here, studies and libraries for conversations, plus a few themed playrooms for when people wanted their conversations to be more intimate. But the one I paused outside of was my own personal study, that I often retreated to when I wanted some private time.

I opened the door and pushed her inside. Instantly she whirled around, her face bright red, green eyes spitting sparks, opening her mouth no doubt to call me all the names under the sun, but I shut the door in her face. Then I pulled a key from my pocket and locked the door.

She wasn’t coming out of there unless I wanted her to.

I stood in the hallway and took a few moments to force my temper into the deep freeze, before pulling out my phone and calling the head of her detail.

“Boss,” he said as soon as he answered. “I was going to—”

“All of you are fired,” I said then ended the call.

There was no need to explain, no second chances. Those three ex black ops operatives had let a twenty-three-year-old get away from them, the useless fuckers. Clearly, I’d failed in my vetting of them, a fact which did not help my temper. Neither did the thought of Ten finding out that his silly little daughter had somehow ditched her minders and had been wandering through the city on her own for the past couple of hours, a sitting duck for the Hamiltons and God only knew who else. And fuck only knew how she’d managed to find her way here.

He’d trusted me to look after Isabel and I’d failed.

Ineverfailed.

I turned and stared at the study door. She could have been screaming blue murder in there and no one would know — the whole building had top-notch soundproofing.

Well, if she was, I didn’t care. I had a few choice things to say, and she wasn’t going to like any of them. Neither was she going to like the lock and key she was now staring down the barrel of.

I’d always told Ten he held her too tight, that she needed freedom not a cage, but abruptly I could see the wisdom of a cage for Isabel Fox. Shit, if I’d had one within reach, I would have stuffed her into it immediately and locked the fucking door myself.

Good Christ, what had she been thinking? Had she not been listening to meat allwhen we’d had that little chat about her safety? Did she think that all the enemies Ten and I had, had magically disappeared somehow and she was safe ditching her minders and gallivanting around the goddamn city?

You’re afraid for her.

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