Tempted & Taken (Men of Haven #4)(8)

Oh, yeah. This one was gonna be a cakewalk. No way was he going to sleep with someone with secrets like JJ’s. He grinned and held out his hand. “You’re on.”

*

Starved, sweaty, and still tingling from the after burn of adrenaline, Darya trudged up the staircase to her apartment. She’d always thought the people who compared Texas summers to hell on Earth were being a little melodramatic, but after experiencing ninety-five degrees on horseback she was starting to think they were right. And here she’d thought after escaping her homeland there would never be such a thing as too hot.

She unlocked the deadbolt and put a hip to the door, practically stumbling into her air-conditioned apartment. First order of business—water. Lots of it. Right after that, she planned to stand in a lukewarm shower for at least thirty minutes. Though, if her butt got a say in the agenda, it would probably want another thirty minutes soaking in the tub. Nothing made a woman realize how certain muscles were used less than others like a two-hour trail ride.

She wouldn’t trade the experience for anything, though. All her life she’d wondered what it would be like to ride such a beautiful creature, and now she knew. Not from books and not from movies, but in real life.

One more experience to add to her ever growing list of accomplishments.

An hour later, she padded from her bathroom in cotton pajama bottoms and ultra-soft T-shirt feeling mostly recuperated and noodling over what her next adventure might be. JJ had tried to get her to go sky diving once, but Darya had chickened out over the jump point. Maybe she was ready for something that daring now. Or bungee jumping. She’d heard the Texas State Fair was pretty impressive and had some miniature-sized bungee attractions. Maybe she could start there and see if she could actually follow through.

She pulled out her desk chair, powered on her laptop and settled in to see what not-so-extraordinary things had happened while she was out conquering the world. As always, a healthy string of spam filtered in. She paused on the latest sale notifications for J.Crew and Banana Republic, taking note of all the latest styles. Someday she’d be able to afford whatever clothes she wanted, and she’d be the one to buy them. Not a benefactor, no matter how kind or selfless. Definitely not some megalomaniac out to rule her life.

Distracted by her thoughts, she clicked on the next email.

No pretty pictures or bold graphics.

Just text.

Frowning, she scrolled back up only to have her breath hitch in her throat.

Knox Torren.

Finally!

She straightened in her chair, blew a shaky exhalation through her lips and started at the top.

JJ,

You still up for talking? My upgrade’s done and have some time freed up early next week. I’ll have Katy put you down for Monday the 18th at 2p.m. at Citadel Security. Let me know if that date doesn’t work for you.

He accepted. Maybe he hadn’t exactly waxed poetic with his response, but he’d given her a solid time to meet. So what if it didn’t come with a bunch of extraneous words. If she could sell him on her idea, she’d be that much further along in making her future her own.

Okay, granted, she’d be sporting a future with someone else’s name, but it would still be hers.

But more than that—she was actually going to get to meet Knox Torren.

She anchored her heels on the edge of her chair and wrapped her arms around her shins, a barely contained schoolgirl squeal pushing up the back of her throat. Not since she’d landed her personal assistant position with Yefim had she been this happy. This filled with delight and certainty. It was like winning the lottery and landing a date with your high school crush all in one fell swoop!

Now for how to reply. He’d been brief, so he’d probably appreciate the same approach. Maybe a simple one-liner affirming that the time worked for her and she’d see him then. Or maybe even that would be too much.

She released the bear hug around her shins, reached for her mouse to click the reply button—and froze. Hand still hovering inches from the desktop, all she could process were the three items lined up perfectly beneath her external monitor. She’d moved the Post-its before she left. She was sure of it.

Her heart thrummed an angry, erratic rhythm, and a frantic buzz fired in her ears. One look at the front door confirmed the deadbolt was secure. The blinds were closed and no one was in her apartment, not unless they were hiding under the bed. Scrambling to her feet, she hurried to her bedroom.

You’re being silly. The boogeyman doesn’t exist. You’re just imagining things.

But she’d moved them on purpose. That much she remembered clear as day.

Dropping to her knees, she yanked up the dust ruffle, peered beneath the bed and let out a shuddering breath. No one. Just the box where she kept her toys and the one reminder of JJ she’d dared to bring with her sitting exactly where she’d left it.

She stood and wiped her shaking, sweaty hands on her hips as she scanned the room. Everything else was perfectly tidy. Not a thing out of place. So why did she feel like a thousand eyes were on her?

Ruslan’s face flashed with crystal clarity in her mind, the possessive leer he’d given her the last time she’d seen him roiling her stomach as it always did. It had been a warning and a promise. One she’d run from and never looked back.

Taking two steps to the closet, she fisted both sides of the doorjamb, her gaze locked on her suitcases lining the highest shelf. The safe move was to run. To make sure Ruslan never had a chance to make good on his promise. He wouldn’t kill her. To do so would defeat his purpose, but she’d end up an empty shell all the same. She’d seen it too many times with men like him. Powerful men who used women as trophies at best and whores at worst.