Golden Binds Page 6

  He ran his hand through his hair. She’d played him.

  “She’s not a reporter, Garret,” Sawyer told him.

  “What are you talking about?” He paused to glare at his brother.

  “She’s lying.”

  “You can’t know that. If she’s a reporter, then she’s a born liar.”

  “Look, we all know how you feel about reporters—” Joseph began.

  “They should all be roasted alive. Fucking burned at the stake until they’re ash in the wind.”

  “Right. Well. That’s not a disturbing thought or anything.” Joseph gave him an incredulous look.

  “And people think I’m the crackpot,” Sawyer added.

  “Why do you think she’s lying?” Garret asked.

  Sawyer sighed. “I don’t think. I know. She made that up to throw us off, but it doesn’t explain anything.”

  “It explains why she broke in.”

  “Does it? And how did she hope to find anything about us by filling her stomach in the pantry?”

  “Maybe she got hungry. Reporters might be scum-sucking leeches, but they still have to eat. Too bad she didn’t find the rat poison.”

  Joseph shook his head. “We have to get you some therapy.”

  “Me?” Garret pointed at Sawyer. “He’s the paranoid one, who thinks the world is out to get him. I just hate reporters. There’s no comparison.”

  “Yes, but I don’t want to roast our enemies alive.”

  “No, just strip them naked, and lock them up in a bathroom-less room.”

  “First of all, she wasn’t naked. And it has a bathroom now, thanks to you. I just figured she’d be more inclined to talk if she thought she had to use a bucket. Women are fussy about these sorts of things.”

  Garret and Joseph gave him incredulous looks.

  “What do you know about women?” Garret asked.

  “Obviously nothing,” Joe added dryly. “If he thinks that is her biggest objection about this whole thing.”

  Sawyer sighed impatiently. “Look, the point is, I don’t think she’s a reporter. It doesn’t explain how she managed to break in.”

  “Blind luck?” Garret suggested.

  “If she was a reporter then surely she’d have done some research about us. She’d at least know our names, right?”

  “She’s a good liar.” He sat. They were starting to make sense.

  Sawyer snorted. “No, she’s not. And besides all of that, what reporter is this dedicated to her story? She would have cracked after half an hour in that cell.”

  “I’m starting to have real regrets about agreeing to any of this,” Joseph said. “We should have just sent her home.”

  “Are you kidding? Without knowing who she is or how she got past all those traps I set?” Sawyer’s face grew red. He was going to explode.

  “Calm down.” Joseph held his hands out at his sides, his voice calm. The older his brothers grew, the more volatile their inner beasts became. For Sawyer that meant he grew more paranoid and short-tempered. For Joseph, he became more serious and controlling. Garret didn’t know what he would do, but for the moment his beast was keeping quiet. Well, expect for now. He could feel him inside him—angry and restless.

  Was that why he felt so on edge?

  “If we’d let her go, she could have led anyone back here,” Sawyer pointed out. “And what if they found out our secret?”

  “Which is why I let you lock her up. But what do we do if she never tells us who she is? Are we going to keep her here forever?”

  “The idea has merit,” Garret said thoughtfully.

  “What?” Joe turned to him. “We can’t keep her prisoner indefinitely.”

  “So how do we stop her from going to the authorities?” Garret countered.

  Joe looked stumped at that one. “They’ll think she’s a crackpot. Everyone thinks we’re old or dead.”

  “Even if they do think she’s nuts won’t they feel obliged to visit?” And Sawyer didn’t cope well with visitors.

  “I don’t want any cops here,” Sawyer growled.

  Yeah, no shit.

  “I’ve been working on a serum to erase short-term memory. I could—”

  “No,” Joe and Garret said together.

  “You didn’t let me finish,” Sawyer complained.

  “Last time you worked on a serum, you turned a rat into a green, foaming beast,” Joe reminded him.

  Sawyer scratched his head. “Something went wrong with the formula. Or maybe it wasn’t meant for rats. I needed something bigger.”

  “You cannot experiment on humans,” Joseph said firmly.

  “I know that!” Sawyer protested. “But what about a goat—”

  “No,” Joseph countered firmly.

  “Do either of you wonder how she managed to find her way here?” Garret asked slowly.

  “Well, that’s what we’re trying to find out, isn’t it?” Sawyer gave him an impatient look.

  “No, I mean, yes . . . but remember the legend?”

  Both men stilled.

  “The legend holds that our mate will find us and that she will bring forth the beast within,” Garret said softly.

  Maybe she was their mate?

  Joseph shook his head. “Impossible. She’s not a bear. We would have sensed that. Our mate will be a bear.”

  “The legend doesn’t say that. It says when we find our mate, the beast will break free and bind her to us.”

  “How can she do that if she’s not a bear?” Joe looked thoughtful. “I had a dream about her.”

  “What sort of dream? A sexual dream?” Garret leaned forward.

  “Eew, I don’t want to hear about his sex dreams,” Sawyer said.

  Joe sighed. “I’m not going into detail. But in the dream, the three of us shared her.”

  “What? Like at the same time?” Garret asked. “Kinky. But I’d be down with it.”

  “Uh, you don’t think it’s weird our brother had a sexy dream involving us?” Sawyer gaped at him. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with me. I always thought this taking a night each thing wasn’t going to work. How the hell am I supposed to wait my turn?”

  “Jesus,” Sawyer muttered. “You really are a deviant.”

  “I like sex. Nothing wrong with that.”

  “Well, I, for one, have no interest in looking at, touching, or coming into contact with either of your dicks,” Sawyer said with disgust.

  “Neither do I,” Garret protested. “I don’t want sex with the two of you. When you share a woman, it’s all about her. You barely notice the other men. It’s all about pleasing her. And when you work well with someone else, you can give her a hell of a lot of pleasure.”

  “I can’t believe it. You’ve done this before?” Joseph’s eyes were bugging out of his head.

  “Huh, I’m shocked you two haven’t.”

  Sawyer just shook his head, speechless.

  “Think about it. The three of us know each other so well that everything would work perfectly together. And it would mean sleeping with her each night. No passing her around like a piece of candy.”

  “I don’t share my candy,” Sawyer growled.

  “Well, you have to share our mate,” Garret snapped. “You might as well figure out the best way to do it.”

  “You really think that could work?” Joe asked.

  “I do. If we’re all in agreement. If we’re talking about sharing our mate, then we need to make certain we’re all on the same page. You know how jealousy can ruin a relationship.”

  They’d all heard the stories of their grandparents’ disastrous relationship.

  Garret looked over at the female sitting huddled against the wall. He felt a stab of longing. And a strange sense of possessiveness.

  “What if she’s the one?”

  The other two turned to look at her. Sawyer shook his head. “You’re just horny. She can’t be ours or she would have brought forth our bears.”

  �
�Mine is closer to the surface,” Garret told them.

  There was silence for a long moment as they thought that through.

  Joe ran his hand over his face. “All right. Let’s just figure out who this female is and what she wants, then we can work out what to do with her. Garret, go and ask her who she works for. It should be easy enough to verify if she’s telling the truth.”

  5

  She startled as the door crashed open, and Mr. Hottie strolled in.

  She watched him warily as he shut the door behind him then leaned against it. He folded his arms across his chest and just watched her.

  She stared back at him. Gone was the seething male who’d stomped out of here earlier. Also gone was the irreverent playboy. This guy was thoughtful and serious, and she wasn’t certain she liked it.

  Gigi had to force herself not to fidget. Hard to do when she felt like a bug caught under a microscope. What the hell did he find so interesting?

  Don’t react. Don’t say anything. Sweat it out.

  “Trying to count my freckles?” Drat. So much for keeping quiet.

  “You don’t have any freckles. Unless they’re somewhere I have yet to see.” His gaze moved over her body, and, to her horror, she found herself reacting. What was it about these guys that made her want to undress them and lick every delicious inch one moment then bash them over the head with a big stick the next?

  She’d never reacted to any male like this before. Having sex had just never interested her all that much. Probably because any man who touched her was going to face her brother’s wrath if he ever discovered what had gone on. And she didn’t want that on her conscience.

  So, did that mean she didn’t care if her brother stuck concrete shoes on these guys and threw them in the ocean?

  Or was it that she thought they might be the only men she’d ever met with a chance against her brother? Shit. What was she thinking? Carlin had several hundred men working for him, all of them as cut-throat and unburdened by morals as the next. Three guys living in a castle weren’t a match for her brother.

  She didn’t know why, but the thought of something happening to these guys made her feel ill. She should hate them. She did hate them. They were scumsucking jackasses. They’d locked her up, stripped her of her clothes, made her believe she was going to have to pee in a bucket, all because she’d broken into their house and helped herself to some food.

  Yeah, so maybe she’d deserved to be locked up. But even prisoners got clothes and a toilet.

  And haven’t they given you that?

  Yeah. But it took them a while.

  Okay, so she was having to work hard to hold on to her anger. And that annoyed her. She might have been in the wrong—all right, so she’d broken the law—but so had they. It wasn’t legal to detain her like this.

  “You’ve seen everything you’re going to,” she snapped at him.

  “Oh, I don’t think so.” He winked at her and her insides turned to mush. She folded her arms across her chest to hide the hardening of her nipples. He was a player. He was used to getting anyone he wanted. He was just fooling around with her. He didn’t actually desire her.

  “Then you’re planning on raping me?”

  His eyes widened. He just stared at her for a few long heartbeats. Then he shook his head. “I don’t rape women.”

  “Then there’s no way you’re ever seeing if I have any freckles on my . . . private areas.”

  “Challenge accepted.” He grinned at her.

  Then it was her turn to gape at him. Then she shook her head. “No. There is no challenge.”

  She stood as he stepped towards her. Well, it was more like he glided. One minute he was across the room and then he was in front of her. Surrounding her. He pressed her back against the cold dungeon wall, but all she felt was hot. The heat filled her from her toes to the top of her head. He leaned in, his mouth mere inches from hers. She could see the little flecks of green in his brown eyes. “I bet I can get you to beg me to look at your . . . private areas.”

  She shook her head. Uh-uh, not happening, no way.

  “What happened to hating me? I’m a reporter, remember? Aren’t you scared that, when I get out of here, I’ll write an article on what you’ve done to me?”

  He moved closer, leaning his cheek against hers, his breath whispered against her ear. “And just what are you going to tell them, sweetheart? How I made your insides quiver? That your nipples grew hard just from me looking at them? That you dared me to find every freckle on your body and kiss them?”

  “I did not dare you to do that.” But, God, she wanted him to.

  He inserted a leg between hers, his hard thigh was now pressed against her pussy. And she was so wet. Horrified at the thought he might feel how damp she’d grown through his pants, she tried to wiggle away, but then he laid a kiss behind her ear. And moved lower. And lower. He reached the spot where her neck and shoulder met and laved it with his tongue.

  “You taste so delicious. Makes me want to kiss you all over. You’re wet for me, aren’t you?”

  She shook her head frantically.

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “Let’s check, shall we?”

  “No,” she squeaked, attempting to press her legs together, which wasn’t about to happen with his leg firmly separating hers.

  “No? Sweetheart, you say no a lot. I need to teach you how to say yes.”

  “Fucking let go of me.”

  “All right.”

  All right? He was going to release her? She felt a mix of relief and disappointment at that. Then he leaned in and kissed her. And all thoughts fled. All she had left was feeling. His tongue danced between her lips, and she whimpered as delight whipped through her, the edges sharp and breathtaking. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life as he ravaged her.

  He nibbled his way down her neck again. Her breath was coming in sharp pants. “What’s my name?”

  What? Was this some sex thing?

  “My name,” he repeated as he reached between them and cupped her breast.

  “Mr. Hottie,” she breathed out as he ran his thumb over her nipple. Fuck, that felt so good.

  He paused. “Mr. Hottie?”

  “Yes, do that again.” He ran his thumb back over the stiff nub and she groaned. Her clit throbbed. She was so turned on, she couldn’t think about anything except her need to have him touch her.

  “Mr. Hottie, huh? That’s cute. But what’s my real name?”

  “I don’t know,” she said impatiently. “Stop talking. Kiss me.”

  He leaned in and kissed her again. This time the kiss was harder, hotter. She wrapped her fingers through his hair, attempting to keep his lips pressed to hers. He bit down lightly on her lip.

  “Don’t stop,” she begged.

  “Behave,” he growled at her. His eyes almost seemed to glow as his voice took on a deeper, rougher quality. “You are not in charge here.”

  “You’re moving too slowly.” She rubbed herself against his leg and shuddered as waves of pleasure engulfed her. She tried to move again, but he grabbed her hips, holding her still.

  “Who are you?”

  “Can’t tell you that.”

  “Because you’re a reporter?”

  “Oh, no. It’s way worse than that.”

  “What could be worse than that?”

  Her brother. Her brother was worse than that. Like a bucket of cold water thrown on her, the thought smothered her arousal. She stiffened. “Get away from me.”

  He studied her for a moment then let go of her hips, taking a step back. She slid away from him, wrapping her arms around herself. Away from his touch, she felt chilled, ill.

  She didn’t want to think about that too closely.

  “You asshole. You’re trying to use sex to get answers.”

  “Yes. But in my defense I also really, really want you.”

  “I don’t think that’s much of a defense.” Although it did ease somethin
g inside her to know it wasn’t all an act. “You’re an asshole.”

  He sighed. “Look, I didn’t come in here with the intention of seducing you for answers. I was just going to ask you a few questions. But then you dared me to find the freckles you have hidden on your body, and I couldn’t resist. Then once I touched you it all went to my head.”

  “I didn’t dare you to find my freckles. I don’t have any freckles.”

  “Well, that’s a disappointment.”

  She gaped at him. “I think you should leave.”

  He gave her a charming smile. “You sure about that? I mean, maybe you can’t see these freckles? Maybe you need someone to check them for you?”

  “Not you!” Hmm, that wasn’t quite what she meant to say. “You just tried to use sex to interrogate me.”

  “You can’t say you weren’t enjoying yourself. And isn’t it a pleasant way to be questioned or would you rather Sawyer bought out his torture tools?”

  “He has torture tools?” She felt herself slump against the wall. Dizziness overcame her. She went hot then cold. Shit. Shit.

  “What? No. Shit, sit down.” He helped her sit on the floor, bending her legs up as he pushed her head down between them. “Just take it easy, sweetheart. I was joking.”

  “It wasn’t funny.”

  “You’re right. It wasn’t funny.” His hand felt warm against the nape of her neck. Her skin tingled at his touch and her body reheated.

  What was wrong with her? He was an asshole. A manipulative asshole. And with just one touch he could make her melt. Could make her remember all the reasons why she needed to keep her distance from him and every other man.

  “I’m okay now.” She raised her head, staring into his concerned face as he crouched next to her.

  “You sure? I’m really sorry. That was a dick thing to say.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re an ass, so I should have expected no less.”

  Except looking into his worried face, he didn’t seem like an asshole. He seemed like a concerned, sweet guy with way too much sexual appeal for her peace of mind.

  “You still look a little pale to me.” He placed his hand over her forehead.

  Damn it, would he stop touching her? Didn’t he realize the effect he was having on her? And this concerned routine was really playing havoc with her vow to hate his guts. All right, she hadn’t actually made that vow, but she’d been about to.