Covet Me Page 20

  And then he let me go.

  The Rolling Stones greeted me as I walked into the suite. I called Belle’s name but all I heard was a violent splash. I skidded into the bathroom as Jake plunged her face back into the water, holding her head under. I raced toward him, springing mid-step and tackling him. Belle arched out of the tub, spluttering as she collapsed to the floor.

  “Go!” I yelled just as Jake knocked me off my feet.

  Metal glinted as he lunged toward me, and my hand shot out, catching his wrist. We struggled as Belle shook a few yards from us, still trying to catch her breath.

  Christ, she might need CPR, and I was in no position to give it.

  I swung my knees up, managing to catch him in the ribs and throw him to the side. I rolled on top of him, forcing his wrist and the knife over his head.

  “You son of a bitch,” I spit at him.

  “You knew this was coming, Price.” He struggled to speak as we both fought to keep the knife in our control. “You’ve known for years.”

  “I had nothing to do with her death.” But it didn’t matter what I told him, and I was well past willing to negotiate with this piece of shit.

  “Margot would be here now—”

  “If it weren’t for Hammond,” I screamed. “How do you still not understand that?”

  Of course Hammond had chosen him for this. A man with a vendetta was harder to fight. Good thing I had one of my own.

  “She was going to leave you,” he panted under me, “and you couldn’t take it. Couldn’t admit that she didn’t love you.”

  “I don’t care who she was fucking. We were both fucking anything that moved. She was still my wife. I would never have hurt her.”

  “Even though she was going to expose you for what you really were and take all your money?”

  Glass ground into the tile as I heard Belle’s palms sliding over the floor, but to my horror, she sounded as if she was coming closer instead of running.

  Jake smiled, his eyes darting over my shoulder. “And now I’m going to take her away from you. That’s what you deserve.”

  I took a deep breath, braced myself and head-butted him. His nose crunched on impact, but I shook off the momentary daze.

  Jake lolled back, stunned, which gave me enough time to snatch away the knife. I backed away from him slowly as I got to my feet, keeping the weapon in front of me.

  “Are you okay, beautiful?” I called, not daring to take my eyes off Jake. He’d clamped his hand over his nose, but he wasn’t down for the count.

  “I’m fine,” she answered in a breathless voice.

  “I want you to go. Walk out of here and go down to the front desk. Tell them to call the police.”

  “I’m not leaving you here,” she cried.

  “For once, do as I say,” I ordered. We were nowhere near out of danger and wouldn’t be until I got her out of this room. Then I could take care of this once and for all.

  “Have you told her?” Jake asked with bloodstained teeth. “About your first wife?”

  “I know,” Belle called petulantly over my shoulder.

  “Then you know why this is going to happen. If I don’t do it, someone else will. We live by a code. Eye for an eye. Retribution.”

  “How biblical of you,” she shot back.

  How was it possible that I could love her and want to strangle her at the same time? I shot a warning glare over my shoulder.

  “Go,” I repeated in a low voice.

  “Not a chance.”

  “You seem like a nice girl. Spirited,” Jake called as he struggled to his feet. Abandoning his bloody nose, he began to brush glass off his clothes. “I think Margot would have liked her. What do you think, Price?”

  “Don’t move,” I warned him.

  “I bet she’s wild, too. Let’s have a little fun for old times’ sake. You can watch. She was so hot for it the other night, but I bet you already knew that.” Jake took a step closer. “Did you forget how to share? We always shared. That’s the problem with adults. We forget our manners. What did you say the first time you shared Margot? ‘Careful, she bites.’ Christ, you had to ride that bitch from behind if you didn’t want stitches.”

  Belle inhaled sharply at this revelation.

  “That was a long time ago, Jake. We were kids, just like you said, and I grew up.” I said it more for her benefit than his.

  “It’s a pity. It seems like you grew up when you cut those brake lines in her car. That was a very selfish thing to do.”

  “I had nothing to do with that.” I didn’t know why we were still arguing, except that I hadn’t gotten Belle out of the suite yet.

  “I’ve been thinking. Since you’re going to get to see Margot first, give her my love. Although I doubt she’s hanging around saving you a seat. But then there’s a special spot in hell for you.”

  Suddenly, he ran at me. My hand lashed out, knocking Belle toward the wall seconds before he launched into me. We stumbled backwards, flipping over and landing in a heap at the foot of the bed. Jake didn’t move. Pushing his body off me, he fell over, the knife sticking out of his chest.

  Belle clawed against the doorframe, rising, eyes wide with horror as she took in the scene.

  “Come here,” I said softly.

  She looked apprehensively at his body, still clinging to the door. I forced myself to stand, ignoring the sharp pinch in my side as I went to her.

  “Oh my God.” She clapped a hand over her mouth as she took in my blood-stained clothes.

  “Not mine,” I reassured her. She’d been in no condition to realize they were bloodied when I arrived, and right now I didn’t have the time to explain. “I need you to leave. Go to Alexander and Clara. You’ll be safe with them.”

  As safe as she would be anywhere.

  She shook her head frantically. “I won’t leave you.”

  “Don’t be stubborn. For once, I’m not in the mood to be provoked.” I forced a smile. “Go and call the police from the front desk and then call Clara.”

  She looked to the mobile still playing music on the bed.

  “Don’t use that one,” I said in a flat voice. “You have their numbers?”

  She nodded. “Smith...you need a witness.”

  “They’ll take me in for questioning, beautiful. It’s clearly a case of self-defense.” Tears pooled in her eyes, but I took her hand. “I’m a lawyer, remember?”

  “I don’t want to leave you,” she whispered.

  “I know.” I brushed a kiss over her lips. “But we both know that’s not Hammond lying there. I need to know you’re safe. As soon as they release me, I’ll come to you.”

  She didn’t question that logic, even though she was smart enough to know I wouldn’t be joining her any time soon.

  “I love you,” she said softly.

  “I love you, too.” I trailed a finger down her throat longingly. “Birds of a feather, right? You’re a helluva fighter.”

  “I’ll fight for you,” she promised.

  I closed my eyes and pushed her away, the implication clear. She kept a hold of my hand, and I heard a choked sob as our fingers slipped apart. Then she was gone.

  I dropped to the floor, holding my side. I pulled out my mobile and dialed a number from memory. “I want to report a murder.”

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  CAPTURE ME

  Available December 8, 2015

  The music stopped playing as my call ended. My mobile slipped to the floor, and I slumped against the wall. Opening my suit jacket, my fingers fumbled on the buttons of my shirt until I reached the last one. Lifting the sticky, blood-soaked layers, I groaned.

  Fuck, that was deep. Stitches were in my future.

  “You’re going to need a lot more than that,” I called over to Jake. He didn’t answer. Probably because he was dead.

  See you in hell.

  Of course, one more dead man also meant one less witness in the coming case against Hammond. With Georgia gone, that didn’t leave m
any options. We had emails and a few recorded tapes of meetings, but it wasn’t enough to hang a man like Hammond on. After tonight—after his attacks on Belle—I would do everything in my power to bring him to justice.

  I stared at the destruction around me as I waited. Broken glass. Tumbled furniture. Splintered door. Dead body. It was either a murder scene or a really good party.

  I had to trash the most expensive hotel room in London. My credit card bill was going to be hell next month. This was going to eat up more than the damage deposit.

  You’re losing it, Price.

  Blood puddled next to me, and I watched, fascinated, as it dripped in slow motion from my torso.

  My mobile rang, displaying Hammond’s number, and I slid my thumb across the accept button.

  “Price 1. Jake 0,” I announced. “Jake is going to need a skilled undertaker.”

  Hammond chuckled. “He really was no match for you. Did you think I’d let him kill you?”

  “What about my wife?” I squeezed my eyes shut and reopened them, trying to make the room come back into focus.

  “I don’t care about her. This is between you and me.”

  “I can’t believe you used Margot to rile him up.” I wedged my mobile against my shoulder. It was getting heavy. “That’s low.”

  “This is war, son.”

  “Who’s winning?” I asked. I knew the latest score, but the rest was becoming a bit hazy.

  “Well, any moment now you’ll be arrested for Jake’s murder. That puts me up one.” Hammond cackled on the other end.

  I didn’t. It wasn’t a very funny joke. “I don’t get a point for Jake?”

  “We’re only scoring the big game. After you’re in jail, that only leaves three more on my mark list, and conveniently you sent your wife right to them. I can’t decide if I should strike tonight while they’re all together, or wait until you’ve stunk up your cell for a bit. It would be fun to read about the arrest of an insane murderer claiming a plot against the British Monarchy.”

  “Yes, except the British Monarchy is on my side.” I blinked as the door flickered in and out of existence. I tilted my head, trying to see where it went.

  “For now. But do you think you’re the only one feeding information to the palace? Alexander doesn’t put all his eggs in one basket. When he receives evidence that you were working for me the whole time, he won’t be keen to clear your name.”

  “Interesting twist, but no one will buy it.”

  “I’m a very convincing storyteller, Smith. Enjoy your time with Detective Spade. He’s been so looking forward to meeting you.”

  The line went dead, and my hand dropped to the ground. It was getting harder to think, and so dark. Did Belle turn out the lights as she left?

  Belle.

  Whatever his plans were to frame me, she was the loose end that he couldn’t leave untied. No matter what evidence Alexander had against me, she would never believe it. Which meant that she was next on Hammond’s hit list. It was the reason she’d been on it in the first place.

  I forced myself to my feet. Damn my chivalry for calling the cops. I really had to do something about this guilty conscience. I fumbled for my phone, slipping it into my pocket as I shuffled to the door and fell against it.

  DNA. DNA everywhere.

  Christ, I might as well just leave a trail of breadcrumbs behind me.

  I snatched a pillow off the sofa as I passed it, ripping off the cover and pressing it to my wound. It would need attention, but for now the most I could do was stop my blood from leading right to me. I clutched my jacket closed as I entered the lift. The couple next to me continued to talk even as the first blood splattered to the floor. I wasn’t making it out of here. Reaching forward, I ran numb fingers over the buttons, lighting up as many floors as possible.

  I got off as soon as the doors slid open. Stumbling down the corridor, my knees buckled. My eyes landed on a janitorial closet, and I lunged for the knob, twisting it as my world went black.

  Scandal. Secrets. Return to London in Capture Me, releasing December 8th, 2015.

  Pre-order now at www.genevalee.com/pre-orders.

  I hope you enjoyed reading Covet Me as much as I enjoyed writing it. As you might have guessed Belle’s story, and the Royals Saga, is far from over. Capture Me, the final book in Belle and Smith’s trilogy hits shelves this December. For pre-order links visit my website at http://www.genevalee.com/pre-orders/

  What will happen next have? Have a theory? I love hearing from readers, and I do my very best to respond to each of you. Drop me a line and let me know what you think of Smith Price at genevaleeauthor@gmail.com.

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  All my love,

  Every city has its secrets.

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  His instructions were specific. They always were. Noon. Not a moment earlier. Not a moment later.

  Mr. Black was never there when I arrived, but I had no doubt he would know if I was tardy. And then he would withhold the one thing I wanted most from him.

  Punishment.

  The arrangement was mutually beneficial. He got off on hurting me, and I got off on being hurt. No money exchanged. At least, not between us. Black paid my employer, a man who specialized in introducing wealthy, upright citizens of London to individuals as secretly depraved as themselves. My employer was good at his job. Black and I were a perfect match. Neither of us seemed capable of drawing hard limits. I never safe worded. Black never stopped.

  To Black, I was the soul of discretion, especially given that Mr. Black was actually Sir William Harris, respected member of the House of Lords. To my employer, Hammond, I was the perfect operative.

  I preferred to think of him as Mr. Black. There was something so tragic about a man living a double life. Hammond had attempted to sway me toward using an alias for years as protection. But I couldn’t see myself doing it. My world was secrets and lies, smoke and mirrors. In the end, all I had was my identity. It was the only truth I knew.

  The entrance to Black’s private study was disguised as a panel down the hall from the loo in his public offices. Every week for six months I couriered a letter to the front reception desk and then headed toward the toilets. I carried no purse, no phone—nothing that would elicit suspicion. Every week for six months I went inside, stripped, and waited for him.

  That was how I knew that I had ten minutes exactly before he would arrive today.

  The fireplace had been lit for a rendezvous and the kneeler sat before it, waiting for me. But I ignored it and headed strait for the computer. With a quick tug, I detached the locket I’d worn during each of our meetings. It looked ordinary enough, but Hammond was a genius like that. The bastard had managed to hide a very small flash drive in a second hidden compartment. Flip open the obvious latch and you’d be treated to a picture of my dear old mum, or at least some woman from the Internet.

  “Glad to see you still trust me,” I muttered as I shoved it into an open USB port. Black had left it on—unlocked—just like every other time. I was finally ready to take advantage of that.

  A few strokes of the keyboard and the entire contents of his private files were zipping onto the drive. I shucked my skirt past my hips and unbuttoned my blouse, my eyes never leaving the progress bar as I folded them neatly. My bra and knickers followed.

  Shoes stayed on.

  Black had his quirks.

&n
bsp; Three minutes left on the clock. Two minutes on the progress bar. My heart beat ticked up a notch, blooded roared in my ears, and I felt the slick proof of arousal between my thighs. I liked to be spanked, whipped. Beaten. Shamed.

  But this was what I lived for. Maybe because I was always on the edge of getting caught—and getting caught was the ultimate masochist fantasy, right? What would he do to me then? I could have come just thinking about it.

  The download completed before I could find out.

  “Live another day,” I whispered as I tucked the flash drive back into its hiding place. I dropped my folded clothes on the chair and went to the bench.

  A bench wasn’t the proper term for it. It looked more like something that belonged in church as if I might be here to pray and receive my penance, except for the restraints. Although I suppose that depended where you worshipped.

  I settled onto the padded kneeler and placed my wrists over the open cuffs. My eyes glazed over as I stared into the fire, unblinking, until there was only light and heat.

  “Georgia,” he purred.

  I hadn’t heard him enter the room, but that was no surprise given how conditioned I’d become to this scene. Expectation rippled over my skin as his hands grasped my shoulders.

  “I plan to whip you until your pretty, little body is black and blue; then fuck you until you feel the same way inside.”

  A moan slipped past my lips. A mistake big enough to shatter the scene I’d so easily sank into only minutes ago. Before I could fix it, Black had shoved me down against the slanted top of the kneeler, holding the back of my neck so that I was mashed against it. His other hand twisted the chain of my necklace.

  “Address me properly,” he commanded.

  I couldn’t think. My mind was a hurricane, my thoughts lost to the conflicting emotions I felt. One tug and the necklace would break. He might find the drive and then…I shuddered. But the rational side of me had awoken as soon as the scene was compromised. If he found the drive, I would have wasted the last six months. I’d probably also be dead. Somehow that annoyed me less.