Love and Let Die (Masters and Mercenaries #5)(70)

“You’re not going anywhere except to bed.” He started down the hall again.

She tried to dig her heels in. “Ian, stop. I’m not going to be put to bed like a five-year-old.”

He simply turned and hauled her into his arms like she weighed nothing at all. “Five-year-olds have more sense than you do.”

It was more than she could take. She hauled off and hit him, slapping him right across that square jaw of his. “You can’t do this to me.”

“Watch me.” If he felt any pain, he didn’t show it.

She kicked and fought, but he just kept walking. “Let me go. Fucking let me go.”

His arms tightened around her. “Don’t you think I want to? Damn it, Charlie, I wish I could, but you’ve made that impossible.”

“It’s easy. Put me down and turn your back and you’ll never see me again.”

He kicked open the door to what looked to be the master bedroom. “I can’t. And I can’t seem to stop trying to save you. I know you have zero interest in my protection, but you’re f*cking going to accept it this time. I made a mistake the first time. I gave you a choice. You don’t get one now.”

He set her on her feet.

She took off for the door.

An arm went around her middle, drawing her to him. “Don’t make this hard on yourself, Charlie.”

She kicked back, trying to get away. It was a stupid play. She knew it. There was absolutely nowhere to go. She would either end up with the Brits or Simon and Jesse, and they would all haul her back to Ian. But she couldn’t stay still, couldn’t submit to this.

“Calm down.” Ian bit out the command, his mouth right by her ear. “They are still listening to us. I have no doubt. So you calm down right f*cking now and act like an adult.”

The accusation stung, but anything she said at this point would be meaningless.

His breath was warm against her ear, and despite the fact that he was a bastard son of a bitch, her body responded to him. Yeah, she hated that now, too.

“They think you’re The Broker. Don’t say anything. Just nod or shake your head. Chelsea’s The Broker, right?”

She thought about lying to him. Just on principle. She nodded anyway.

“Did you know she’s blackmailing key officials in four different governments?”

A little gasp came out. What had her sister done?

“I’ll take that as a no. Your little sister is doing more damage than you suspect, and you’re the one who’s going to take the fall. You won’t let her go down for it. I know you. So someone has to protect you. That’s my name on our marriage license.”

“I’ll give you a divorce. Hell, I’ll have Chelsea make it so the marriage never happened.” It’s what she should have done in the first place. She should have left well enough alone.

“It’s too late for that.” He kept one arm securely around her waist as he started to back up toward the bed.

Maybe reason would work. She softened her voice. “Ian, you don’t want to get involved in this. Call Adam off. Tell Simon to turn his back for a couple of minutes. I’ll wake up Chelsea and we’ll get out of here. I won’t bother you again.”

“You bother me every minute of every f*cking day, baby. You have since the moment I met you, and I’ve been fighting it. I’ve fought it so hard since you came back. Every good agent knows when one tactic doesn’t work, it’s time to try another one.”

He turned her neatly so she was facing him, his arm unwinding. But before she could make a move to get away, he had both her wrists in one big hand.

And a nice length of rope in the other.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying something new.” He wound the rope around her.

Charlie tried to take off. She bolted for the door, frightened not of what Ian might do, but that after all the shit he’d poured on her that she might still let him do it. She couldn’t be the girl who took a guy’s crap and then f*cked him. She just couldn’t.

He was on her in a second, pulling her down and pinning her to the plush carpet underneath them.

“Get off me,” she yelled.

“I can’t.” He was perfectly calm. She could think this was an everyday occurrence if it hadn’t been for the massive erection pressed against her.

Despite the fact that she tried her damnedest to get a knee in his crotch, he held her down and had her wrists bound together in no time at all. He tested the knots, as though he gave a shit.

“Is it too tight?” Ian asked, his voice quiet and serious.

She stayed silent, not willing to give him anything. He’d taken her world away and then expected her to submit?

“Charlie, baby, talk to me. I can’t stand this. I hate that I shut you down. I don’t want to. I want to be cold. I want to not care. I can’t. I can’t let you go.”

“You’re taking away my options.”

“Because I gave them all to you last time and you f*cking didn’t choose me. You chose everyone but me. I’ll fix this. I’ll save you. Choose me, Charlie. Choose us. Trust me. Give me the option of being your hero.”

She had, she suddenly realized. She’d chosen Chelsea over him. She’d chosen herself over him. At the time, she hadn’t seen it that way. It had seemed like a clear path, and she hadn’t considered once turning to him and telling him the truth. How would a man like Ian handle that? He would shut down. Ian needed to be needed and she’d trusted his worst enemy over him.