“Your cuts.” I hold on to his wrists, clench hard, ready to pull away.

  “Are fine,” he replies, hypnotizing me with the swirls of his tongue, his nibbles, the sucks, while he holds my neck firmly. “Just kiss me.” The roughness of his voice added to the already intoxicating ingredients takes me to the next level of pleasure, a need overcoming me to just . . . kiss. I tilt my head, open wider, swirl softly, suck gently. It’s the slowest kiss we’ve ever shared. The softest. “Beautiful,” he whispers again, pushing his body closer, urging me on, his hands slipping up onto my head, his thumbs on my cheeks.

  I’m so lost. So hot. So consumed. Moving my hands to his hair, I stroke through the length to his nape, locking my arm around his neck to pull me in closer, humming my happiness, swallowing down every sound of indulgence he makes. This kiss is bingeing. It’s greedy and powerful and dizzying. Neither of us want to progress it, just enjoy it.

  It goes on and on.

  The perpetual kiss. My head turns one way, then the other, my free hand moves across his body, his face, his hair, my nipples grazing his chest. “Are you wet?” he asks, slipping a finger between my legs. I pant in answer, nipping his tongue. So wet. Burning. Needing. I kiss him harder, urgency now taking the lead. “I’m so fucking hard for you.” He takes my hand and places it on his cock, and I immediately start working him as he massages my clit.

  I thought I was happy with a kiss.

  Now, I just need to detonate and hope it takes some stress with it. I know he feels the same. I kiss him harder still, biting at his lip, stabbing my tongue into his mouth, thrusting my fisted hand up and down his shaft as my body folds forward with the pleasure he’s delivering. I whimper, my lips leaving his, my head going limp as every muscle I possess starts to harden and the pleasure charges forward. I feel his finger slip under my chin and force my face up. I can hardly keep my eyes open.

  “Look,” he demands, his icy eyes blazing. “Will you come hard for me, baby?” he asks. “Come all over my hand.”

  I whimper, my hand action getting a bit chaotic, forcing Danny to take over working himself and me at the same time. I place a hand on each shoulder and look down at the sight of him pleasuring both of us. Unreal. His fist is tight, working steadily, the crown of his cock glistening, and his pleasure-coated fingers thrust into me in time, his thumb working my clit in between. My cheeks inflate with the strain not to scream as the pleasure grips me, slithering through my veins, all heading to one place. I bite down on my lip and look up. His wet, parted lips past his dark stubble, the slight swell of his nose from his bust up with Otto, his burning, drowsy eyes, his scar.

  I lean in and lick the length, from below his eye to his lip, then across to the other side. He tenses. I slide my hand down his chest to between his thighs and stroke softly across his balls. He convulses. Loses his rhythm on me for a moment. It’s a moment I need to pull myself back and get in line with Danny. I kiss him briefly and go back to watching him work us, splitting my attention between his hands and his face. His eyes drop to my boobs.

  My hands find them immediately, and his head drops back, his stare rooted there, his mouth falling open more, his blues becoming drowsier.

  Deadly handsome.

  Deadly sexy.

  Just fucking deadly in every manner of the word, and I love him. Would die for him. I abandon a boob and stroke down to my belly, holding it, feeling the urge to bend over and suppress the impending explosion between my legs. His eyes move to my tummy. His hands start working faster.

  Coming.

  Coming.

  Coming.

  I swallow, my body jerks, and it rushes through me without mercy, forcing me to grab on to Danny’s shoulder. I look down just as he twitches, murmurs, and the head of his dick swells and surges, shooting his cum all over my stomach as he gasps for breath and grabs the side of the tub, the water splashing. “Shit,” he hisses, pushing deeper into me and stilling, letting me wrap every internal muscle around his thick fingers and cling on. I circle my hand across my stomach and spread him all over me, clawing my nails into his bicep, unable to keep my eyes off his beautiful cock still erupting, his essence now hitting my arm. I reach for his hand and slowly pull his fingers free from inside me and lower my ass to my heels, taking a few breaths.

  He looks otherworldly there before me recovering from his high, his wet hair falling into his eyes, his body jacked, every muscle pulsing. “Okay?” I ask, splashing water onto my tummy to wash it. Danny says nothing. He sucks his fingers clean, kisses my cheek, and stands, looking like Poseidon rising from the sea. He steps out, takes a towel and dries. “What are you doing today?” I ask.

  Danny looks at me as he leaves, which basically tells me if he speaks, it will be a lie, so he won’t speak, and then he can’t be accused of lying. “I love you,” he calls back, putting a small smile on my face, even though I have just served as his in-house whore. A stress reliever. But he would never kiss an in-house whore like that. Neither would he tell them he loves them. And they most certainly wouldn’t be carrying his child.

  “Have a good day, dear,” I say quietly, getting out and drying off, at the same time praying for Beau’s safe return and an end to this never-ending nightmare.

  I should know by now that God doesn’t hear sinners’ prayers.

  * * *

  I throw on my Union Jack sweater and some stretchy pants before heading downstairs to see what the mood is like in the camp. I know it’ll be low, but how low? I find Daniel at the island shoveling Lucky Charms into his mouth while Pearl and Anya look on, astonished, eating their muffins with a little more grace. “Morning,” I say, joining them and pouring some juice.

  “Any news on Beau?” Anya asks.

  Daniel’s spoon hits his bowl with a loud clang, and Esther stops wiping the countertop behind me. “What’s wrong with Beau?” he asks, looking at me for an answer. “Did she get shot again?”

  Anya’s hand goes straight over her mouth, her apologies spilling through her fingers. “I’m so sorry.”

  I can’t be upset with her. I offer Anya a small, reassuring smile before turning to Daniel. “Beau’s fine.” I think. “She’s got her cop head on, is all.”

  “Once a cop, always a cop,” he sings, returning to his breakfast, and I laugh lightly.

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “Beau. No, wait, it was James. Hold up, no, it was Mister.” He frowns. “Or did I see it on CSI?”

  “You shouldn’t be watching CSI,” Esther says from across the kitchen.

  No, because there’s enough criminal activity happening around here to keep his curious mind busy. God damn it. How I wish he could go to a regular school and be a regular kid while he’s there. He needs friends.

  “Hey, Grandma, does Mister know yet that you and Otto are in love?”

  I press my lips together and peek at Esther, who’s face is beetroot red. “What are you talking about?”

  “Does this mean he’ll be my grandpa?”

  “No, it doesn’t.” Otto appears at the door, and Daniel laughs, shoving his spoon in his mouth, milk dribbling down his chin. I will him to keep quiet.

  “You’re alive,” Daniel quips. “That means Mister doesn’t know.”

  “Know what?” Danny appears at the door, and I virtually hear Esther’s despair in the form of clanging pots and dishes as her fussing ramps up a few levels.

  Daniel shrinks into his chair and gets back to his Lucky Charms. It’s a wise move. Those Lucky Charms aren’t lucky enough to save him from Danny’s wrath if he doesn’t pipe down.

  “Nothing.” I assess my husband, every towering inch of him. He’s suited. Dressed to kill. “Coffee?” I ask, but Esther’s already taken care of it, pouring one from the jug and sliding it on the counter for him. Then she gives one to Otto. It’s a tactical move, and Otto doesn’t appreciate it, his eyes annoyed slits on Danny while he sips, and Danny knows it, which is undoubtedly why he showers Esther with affection, putting an arm around her while he drinks his coffee.

  “Hadn’t you ought to be getting to the boatyard?” he asks Otto. I mentally put my head in my hands as Anya and Pearl ping-pong looks between them, each with a cup at their lips, trying to look absorbed in their drinks. Daniel’s our saving grace here. But then the sound of ceramic scraping across the marble counter pierces the air and he’s up and gone, declaring he wants to get his assignment done and submitted before he goes out on the water.

  “Not today, kid,” Danny calls after him, making him screech to halt at the doorway.

  “What? Why?” he whines, his whole body deflating, making him look like a little boy again.

  “Yes, why?” I ask.

  “Because I said so.” Danny releases Esther. No flex whatsoever? That means only one thing. There’s a delivery or an exchange or . . . I quietly inhale. The delivery is today. I look at my husband. He’s suited. Is something happening before the delivery? And wasn’t Beau supposed to be helping with that?

  Daniel stomps off, sulking, and my heart hurts for him. He just wants to go out on his jet ski. I’m pretty sure if he did that every day, he’d be happy. But he can’t because it’s the freight terminal for all illegal weaponry coming into the country for his gun-running stepdad. I growl under my breath, as annoyed as my son. I know that Danny can provide an amazing life for our children, but it’s also a life of constraints, and there is fuck all I can do about it, and that just makes me feel like a shitty mom.

  I down my juice, scowling at Danny’s back as he and Otto leave the kitchen. “Don’t say it,” Esther warns, obviously reading me as she always does. “Not today.”

  “What’s today?” Pearl asks, too curious.

  “Nothing,” Esther and I snap in unison, making her startle. I smile awkwardly and get back to my juice. If we can’t hide things from a not-so curious son, I haven’t a hope of hiding it from a very curious twenty-one-year-old who is also asking too many questions about Brad.

  Nolan swaggers into the kitchen, buttoning his suit jacket, looking very suave, his hair pristine, his tie knot faultless. He looks handsome. And he’s early twenties. My eyes shoot to Pearl. Now this would be a healthy attraction. A more well-suited object for her attentions. But she’s not given him a second glance, her attention on the coffee cup she’s slowly spinning on the counter. Fuck. I catch Anya’s eye, and she shrugs, smiling through pressed lips.

  Esther pours Nolan a coffee and adds some sugar. “There you are,” she says, moving on to another task, baking if the ingredients she’s pulling down are a clue.

  Nolan’s attention falls onto me. “Brad mentioned you might be coming to work at the club.”

  I blink, surprised, double checking who Nolan’s talking to. “Me?”

  “Yeah, something about bookkeeping?”

  “Me?” I repeat, my finger pointing at my chest. Working at Hiatus? A small smile starts to form. I’d have my own job? Get paid? Have my own money?

  “Brad has a club?” Pearl asks, interested.

  “It’s strip joint,” I clarify. And a place for laundering money.

  “Figures,” she says over a small laugh, and I recoil, surprised, making Pearl wave a hand dismissively, getting up and refilling her coffee.

  “Does Danny know?” I ask Nolan.

  “Know what?”

  I turn and find my husband at the door again, his legs wide, his hands in his trouser pockets, relaxed. “Will you stop doing that?” I say, swiveling on my stool and facing him. “You never mentioned Brad said I could work at the club.”

  The dark look Danny throws Nolan’s way is lethal. It tells him he better leave or he’ll die. Not surprisingly, Nolan abandons his coffee and makes a hasty exit. I fold my arms over my chest. I mean business. “Well?”

  Danny walks slowly over to me, hands still sunk into his pockets, and stops before me, bending to get his face close to mine. I peek out the corner of my eye and see Pearl back at the island with a fresh coffee. She and Anya are smiling behind their cups. I don’t know why. This isn’t going to be funny. Infuriating, perhaps, but not funny. I give my husband my attention. His hair needs trimming. His stubble too. “I didn’t mention it,” he says, giving me a kiss that I don’t reciprocate. “Because it will never happen.”

  I huff, not at all surprised, and turn my face away, getting off the stool and going to the fridge. I pull out a jar and unscrew the lid, pulling out a chili. “Maybe Anya and Pearl could learn the ropes on the bar.” The poor things must be bored out of their minds, and since they’re apparently not going anywhere, we should at least find something for them to do so they can earn some money.

  Danny looks across to the girls, who are looking very interested in my suggestion. His eyebrows are high. “It’s Brad’s club, not mine.” He shrugs, and I laugh under my breath. It’s Danny’s club too, for Christ’s sake.

  The room falls silent when James walks in, his focus set forward, the atmosphere thick, as well as the tension radiating off him. He goes to the fridge, stands there just looking inside. “I chopped some for you,” Esther says, reaching past him and pulling out a glass of green stuff.

  James looks at her, blank. “Thanks.”

  “Welcome.” She puts the glass in his grip and leaves him by the fridge studying it. “Kiwi, blueberries, banana, broccoli, and mango.”

  He visibly swallows, staring at the glass. “Mango,” he says, looking at me, and my heart breaks, not only because he reveals the side of his face that I slapped and the evidence is there, but because mango is one of Beau’s favorites. I have to look away, unable to see the utter hopelessness on him. It’s shameful of me, cowardly. I hear the glass meet the counter and look up. He’s not touched it.

  “James,” I call as he walks out, but he doesn’t stop. I glance at Danny and see the same despair as I feel. I jump up and grab the green juice, going after him. “James, please. Stop.” I catch him at the bottom of the stairs and grab his arm, stopping him. Of course, he could shrug me off if he wanted to, but he doesn’t, and I’m grateful. He doesn’t face me, so I round his big body and take one step up, putting myself in front of him. And because of the height difference, I see his face. The pain etched across it. The deep stress lines making him look older than he is. Seeing him like this makes me unreasonably mad with Beau. I know why she’s doing this. I feel her despair as much as I do James’s. It also has me making a silent vow to never run out on Danny and leave him wondering and worrying if I’m alive.

  “I’m sorry I slapped you,” I say quietly, resting the guilty still-stinging palm on his forearm. “I really haven’t heard from her, I swear it.” I don’t want him to believe I would be cruel enough to leave him in this desolation if I could remove him from it. But I haven’t heard from her so I can’t.

  He swallows and lifts his head a fraction, and my heart splinters more when I see his eyes are glazed with tears he’s fighting to hold back. “I need to find her, Rose. Before someone else does.” He clears his throat and roughly wipes at his cheeks on a sniff, and I hold out the glass.

  “Drink,” I order, hoping the concoction reloads him with some strength that’s been kicked out of him.

  James smiles mildly and humors me, knocking it back and putting the empty back in my hand. “Thanks.”

  “No sweat.” I catch him off guard and sling my arms over his wide shoulders, hugging him hard, hoping he feels my love for him. He is literally the only person in this world who can fix Beau. I know it. Danny knows it. Zinnea knows it. Even Beau knows it deep down. He can’t cave. He can’t be anything less than The Enigma right now.

  James returns my embrace, dipping a little to accommodate me, holding on to me as tightly as I’m holding him. It takes everything in me not to cry on him.

  “I have to go,” he whispers, not breaking away, but instead waiting for me to.

  I nod and release him. “Find her, okay?”

  He nods and strides off. “Tell Danny I’ll meet him at Hiatus.” The door closes behind him, and a few moments later, Otto appears from the corridor to the office, cursing as he goes after James.

  “I told him not to fucking leave without me.” He swings the door open and slams it behind him, just as Goldie stomps out too, also hauling the door open and slamming it behind her. It makes me feel significantly better knowing James isn’t out there alone.

  But Beau is.

  I am going to seriously kick her ass when she gets home. If she gets home. I flinch and throw a prayer skyward, to a god I don’t believe in, and head back to the kitchen. I walk in to find Esther and Danny on the far side, alone, close, talking in hushed whispers. They both see me and shut up. And doesn’t that piss me off? What am I being kept in the dark about now? I look between them, my expression fierce. “What’s going on?” I ask, not confident I’ll be told but wanting them to know I’m not stupid. Or happy.

  Esther looks at Danny and nods, and he steps forward, looking a little awkward. “Mum’s found a school for Daniel,” he says. I look straight to Esther in my shock, as if I need confirmation that I’m not hearing things. She nods. What? I’ve hoped for it, many times, but I thought regular schooling was out of the question. “I don’t want you to get too excited.” Danny comes to me, taking both of my hands. “But it looks promising.”

  My heart leaps with joy. “Where?” I ask. “How many kids go there? What’s the name? Is it mixed sex? Because it’s important for him to be with boys and girls.”

  “Whoa.” Danny laughs. “The principal can answer all the questions we have when we visit.”

  “We’re visiting?” I cry, excited. “Like regular parents visit regular schools to see if they want their regular kid to go there?” I inhale, something coming to me. “Wait, what did you tell the principal you do?”

  “Well, obviously I didn’t tell him that the chances of me falling onto America’s Most Wanted List any day is rather high.”

  “That’s good,” I say, looking into thin air, thinking of all the things Daniel will need. Bags, books, pens, sports equipment. We’ll need to go shopping. “When are we going?”