Sophie Oak - One to Keep

“Why would he lie?”

“My guess? He knows more than he’s telling us. That painting is very expensive. Maybe he’s selling it on the black market.” Jen shook her head. “Why that one? We had a Dutch master in the studio last month. It was worth millions. Before that he worked on restoring a Renaissance painting that’s considered priceless. It doesn’t make any sense. He can’t get more than a half a million for that one on the black market, if he can sell it at all.”

“A half a million is more than enough to tempt a lot of people. It’s a lot of motive.”

“He’s independently wealthy.” At least, as far as Jen knew, he was. His house was in the best part of Dallas. He drove a Jag.

“I’ll have someone look into his finances.” He glanced down at his watch. “It shouldn’t be long now. When we get the judge to release you, I’ll personally take you to your place so you can pick up some things.”

“Why do I need to pick up my things?” The door to the office opened, and Jen looked up in shock.

“Don’t worry about your things. You won’t be going back to your apartment, Jennifer.” Stefan Talbot stood in the doorway. He was lean and tall. His suit was immaculate, but his black hair fell over his eyes.

The slight messiness did nothing to distract from his overwhelming presence.

Jen got to her very shaky feet. The need to throw herself in his arms was almost overwhelming. He was solid and seemed like the safest thing she’d seen in forever. It was an illusion. Stef Talbot was dangerous. He’d already broken her heart once. Damn if she was going to give him a second shot at it. Before she could manage to speak, he was walking into the room, making a straight line toward her.

“Everything’s been arranged, Finn. The paperwork is done. Julian can work miracles when he wants to. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this. We’ll be in close contact as this matter moves forward. I’ve left notes with your secretary on how I want to proceed.

The first thing I want is every bit of information you can dig up on that fucker Renard.”

“Excellent.” Finn Taylor was the only one in the room who looked satisfied. He stood and collected his things. “I already have a team working on Renard. We’ll know something soon, Sir.” That Sir grated on Jen’s nerves. So did the deferential way Finn Taylor nodded at Stef. It was more than the polite acknowledgement of a lawyer to his client. Finn wasn’t being polite to his client. He was honoring a Dom.

“Your work is impeccable, Finn. You honor your Master. Tell Julian I’ll be in touch with him.” He turned back to Jen. “Let’s move, Jennifer. I have a plane ready. We need to be at Love Field in an hour.

I have a guard waiting to process you out.” Jen’s head whirled. “Plane?”

“Yes, plane. We’re going back to Bliss.”

“Bullshit.”

Cool, gray eyes slitted, and she could practically feel the will rolling off him. Stef was tense, and Jen knew it was a bad idea to push him, but she couldn’t help it.

“I’m serious, Stef. I’m not going anywhere with you.” She heard the will in her voice. She couldn’t go back to Bliss. Panic threatened to swamp her. He was here. He was right here in front of her, and her heart didn’t give a damn that he was a bastard. For the first time in months, she felt desire for something besides her art. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, go down that path again.

He got into her space, a move he’d perfected seemingly long before he met her. Jen held her ground. Even though he didn’t touch her physically, he seemed to surround her. Suddenly her whole world was Stef, his gray eyes, the heat of his body, his masculine, clean scent. He filled her every sense.

“I’m not going home with you.” She forced herself to say the words.

His lips hitched up. “At least you admit Bliss is your home.” That wasn’t what she’d meant. Bliss, Colorado, had felt like home when she’d been there, but she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Bliss wasn’t big enough for the two of them. “It’s your home. Hell, Stef, it’s your little kingdom, and you like to play the king, don’t you?”

“Yes, because everyone does what I say.” Stef’s low growl made her breath speed up. “Everyone in Bliss just bows down to me. Have you really been gone for so long that you forget Max regularly kicks my ass? And Nell and Henry are currently protesting my gardening practices.”

He was too close for comfort. She gave in and took a step back.

She could see plainly that he was satisfied with her discomfort.

“Don’t try to play the poor little rich boy with me, Stef. You’re a puppet master. You like to pull the strings and see how people dance.

Well, I’m not in your kingdom anymore, and there’s no way you can get me there again. So you can take your money and go back to Colorado.”

It was stupid. Even as she said the words, she wanted to take them back. She had spent the last twenty-four hours terrified in a jail cell.

She would have to be the stupidest woman in the world to turn him down, but she’d never thought around Stef. Since the moment she’d met him, she’d been a quivering mass of emotion and desire every time he entered a room.

“Stubborn thing. I’ll make it easy on you.” His hands caught hers, and before she could think she felt cold metal surrounding her wrists.

He flicked the cuffs on with the cool precision of a man who often cuffed the women in his life.

“What are you doing?” Jen stared at her hands. At least this time they were in front of her. She preferred it that way. Damn, her life had taken a wrong turn when she could compare and contrast her experiences with men who handcuffed her.

“Taking you home, Jennifer. Whether you like it or not.” He leaned down and picked her up. She was in his arms, nestled close to his chest. She looked up at the square, inflexible line of his jaw. His arms tightened around her, and she was caged more closely than she’d been in the holding cell. She had the suspicion that this time Stef would be harder to escape from than before. He kicked open the door and started down the hall.

Yep, like it or not, she was going back to Bliss.

Stefan Talbot kicked open the door to the interrogation room and strode down the hall. Jen’s slender body finally relaxed in his arms as she obviously figured out he wasn’t letting her go. He stared straight ahead, unwilling to look down at her. If he looked at her he might falter, and he couldn’t risk it. Six months, and all he’d had was a bunch of photos taken by a private investigator. He’d stared at them every day. It made him feel like a complete pervert every time he looked at them. Luckily, he was comfortable with his perversity since he couldn’t seem to help himself.

Trouble. She’d always been trouble. When he’d met her two years before, his first thought was to run for the hills. No. That hadn’t been his first thought at all. His first thought had been to snap a collar on her and chain her to his side. He’d decided to run for the hills when he’d come to his senses.

“Why are you doing this?” Her voice was quiet, almost as though she was asking herself the question, or didn’t really want to know the answer.

He stopped right there in the middle of the bustling hall and finally looked down at her face. Golden brown hair and large green eyes stared up at him. Her skin was like porcelain, but there was a smattering of freckles that crossed her nose and made him want to run his lips across her face to kiss each and every one. Why? Why did it have to be this woman?

“Because you need me.” He kept his answer short. If he didn’t, he would end up a blathering idiot.

There was a sheen of tears in her eyes that told Stef he’d fucked up. He always managed to with her. He was a Dom of the first order, known for taking care of his subs, but he fumbled the minute she batted those eyes at him. There was nothing to do about it now. He simply continued down the hall. He would fix her when they got back to Bliss.

Now that he thought about it, he should have expected this greeting. The entire plane trip here, he’d had all sorts of fantasies about being her hero. In his fantasies, she’d cried prettily and thrown herself into his arms. He’d gotten her out of this current scrape and then protected her. He’d set her up in a nice studio in Bliss, and she’d be waiting for him when she was old enough to know what she wanted.

Twenty-three . She was fucking twenty-three years old. He was a thirty-two-year-old man in love with a girl barely out of college. She had no idea who she was, and she’d proven it by running away. She was just a kid, and he’d done all sorts of nasty, dirty, glorious things to her.

Maybe he wasn’t so comfortable with his perversity.

He turned down the main hall. Nate Wright, his old friend and the current sheriff of Bliss, Colorado, stood talking to the district attorney and the chief of police. Lucky for him both men belonged to a very private BDSM club and both wanted to be in the debt of very wealthy men. They had streamlined the process of getting Jennifer out on bond, going so far as to wake a judge to do the paperwork. It wasn’t exactly procedure, but otherwise, Jen would still have hours in a cell, and he couldn’t even consider that.

“Damn, I hope I can keep the press off this.” The chief shook his head as he signed the paperwork releasing Jennifer Waters to the custody of Stef and Sheriff Wright.

The DA seemed much more comfortable. “The girl’s never been in trouble before. It’s unusual, but we’re releasing her to law enforcement. Besides, I don’t know if I buy Renard’s story. He’s a shady fellow. If she stole the painting, then where is it? We’ve searched her place.”

Jen’s head came up. “You did?”

Nate never looked up from the paperwork he was now signing.

“They didn’t find anything beyond your own work, and this afternoon the whole thing is being packed up and moved to Bliss. Stef packed your work himself this morning while we were waiting on the judge.”

“I’ll make sure all of your work gets back home,” Stef said. He hadn’t been able to get her latest work out, but it appeared she had just finished it, possibly the night before her arrest. The oil was still wet. Renard, the fucker, had refused to release it, and no amount of intimidation had worked on him. At least the work in her apartment was properly packed and readied for transit.

Her lips turned down, and she held her hands up for all to see.

“And do you intend to keep me cuffed during my stay?” He’d love to. He’d love to bind her arms and legs and keep her tied to his bed. He’d let her out to paint. It was important, and she was far too talented to ignore, but other than that, she would be constantly spread for his pleasure. He shifted uncomfortably. His cock was hard as a rock.

Nate’s eyes went straight to the handcuffs around Jen’s wrists.

“Was that really necessary, Stef?”

“She was being uncooperative.”

“And he was being an asshole,” Jen shot back.

At least she was getting her spirit back. It made Stef very happy that she was starting to fight again. He’d watched her in the interview room while she spoke to Finn Taylor, and everything about her had seemed dimmer than normal. Her eyes had been dull and downcast, her shoulders slumped. Now there was fire in them again, and it gave him hope.

“No surprise there. He’s been a complete asshole for six months now,” Nate complained. He settled his hat on his head and looked every inch the small-town sheriff he was. “He’s giving Max a run for his money. I swear if I catch the two of them pounding on each other again, I’m going to put them both in lockup.” Stef set her on her feet and hoped he didn’t have to chase her down. She immediately walked to Nate, holding out her cuffed hands in greeting.

“It’s good to see you, Sheriff. How are Callie and Zane?” Jen’s face shone as she looked up at the sheriff.

She hadn’t smiled once at him.

“They’re fine. Zane opened a bar, and now he’s got Callie hopping. I had to hire a new admin because Callie’s having so much fun learning to bartend,” Nate explained. His face went a little bit hard. “She’s looking forward to seeing you again, Jen. She missed you.”

Jen flushed. Her skin was so pale he never had trouble reading her.

“I missed her, too.”

“A letter would have been nice. It would have let her know you were alive.” Nate turned his stony face to Stef. “We should get going if we’re going to make the plane.”