Mine to Hold (Mine #3) - Page 11/31

Noah flattened his hands on the table. “There will be no more investigators who follow Claire. No one will watch her. No one will report to you.”

Ethan laughed again.

“If I see anyone even trying to watch her, they’ll have to deal with me.”

“The big, bad, hotel owner.” Ethan shuddered. “How terrifying…oh, wait, I’ve been locked up with murderers and rapists for nine years. You don’t scare me. Nothing scares me anymore.” And his façade dropped right then.

The humor, the mockery—vanished.

Evil remained.

“Claire owes me,” Ethan snarled. Spittle flew from his mouth. “And the bitch will pay me back everything.”

“I’m giving you fair warning,” Noah gritted out as his back teeth clenched. “A warning that needed to be delivered in person.” And he didn’t care if the guard was listening or if the warden overheard his words. Noah leaned forward. “You don’t know the man I used to be.”

Ethan’s brows furrowed.

“That man would have killed you the instant he walked into this room,” Noah said flatly.

“The guard—”

“I would’ve been across the table. I would have snapped your neck before you even had the breath to scream.”

Ethan swallowed.

“You forget Claire Kramer. You forget her now. Or the next time we meet…” Noah smiled at him. A smile that held a grim promise. “You’ll be a dead man.”

Then he rose and walked toward the door.

The warden followed him out, and the guy was sweating even more. Jeremiah ran a shaking hand over his face.

“I want to see his cell,” Noah told the warden.

Jeremiah hesitated.

Noah just kept staring back at him.

A quick nod, then Jeremiah was leading the way for him. Noah wondered what sort of pressure Trace had applied in order to get the warden so compliant. Had it been cash? Or another, darker motivation?

Trace has a way of finding out everyone’s secrets…and using those secrets against his enemies.

Noah walked past dozens of cells. After about five minutes, Jeremiah stopped near a cell that was separate from the others. A nearby guard opened the door.

Noah slipped inside. The place was about five feet by nine feet. The cell contained a toilet. A bed.

A dozen pictures of Claire were on a back, stone wall. Fucking recent pictures judging by Claire’s hair. One…he leaned forward. Sonofabitch…One was of Claire at her sister’s funeral. He recognized the dress that she wore in that shot.

Noah spun to confront the warden. “She was his victim,” he snarled. “He put a gun to her head. He was going to kill her.”

Jeremiah backed up a step. “His father—”

“Is going to be rotting in the ground soon.”

“The governor—”

Noah whirled back around. He ripped those pictures from the wall. “No more.” Rage had a haze covering his gaze. “He doesn’t see her. If any more pictures find their way to him, you’ll have more than the governor to worry about.” He tore the pictures into pieces. Marched toward the warden. “You’ll have me. And when it comes to the biggest threat you need to fear, Warden, it’s not the governor because I can buy and sell him ten times over.”

The warden glanced nervously around the room. “He…he’s probably going to get out.” His voice was low, carrying just to Noah’s ears. “For the funeral. He was right. There won’t be anything I can do to stop it if the order comes down…”

Noah’s fury burned even hotter. “If that happens, you call me. Understand?”

The warden’s gaze dropped to the torn pictures scattered on the floor. “I know what he is,” Jeremiah said. “And if I had my way, he’d stay locked up forever.” His eyes lifted. Held Noah’s. “If he ever gets free, he will kill that woman.”

“No,” Noah swore, “he won’t.”

“All right, Claire…” The rumbling masculine voice was followed by a light rap on the office door. “It’s quitting time for the night.”

Claire glanced up and found herself staring into Drake Archer’s green gaze. She’d been aware of him covertly checking on her during the day. He hadn’t actually spoken to her until now.

Since the guy had a tendency to unnerve her, she’d appreciated his silence.

Claire shut down her computer. Well, Noah’s computer. She was in his office, in his suite, and she’d spent the day pouring over marketing plans for the hotel in D.C. She wanted to prove to Noah that she could be useful to him.

And not just as a bed partner.

Drake stepped into the room. The light glinted off his dark, blond hair.

Claire tensed.

“Why do you do that?” Drake asked her, frowning. “I’m not going to bite.”

She wasn’t sure she believed that.

She’d met Drake and Noah back in Chicago. Actually, her first image of Drake was rather twisted. Stained in blood. One thing remained clear to her, though.

Drake Archer is dangerous.

“It’s not the first time an old friend has asked me to keep an eye on his girl,” Drake added with a roll of his broad shoulders. “And Skye doesn’t jump when I get within ten feet of her.”

She rose to her feet. “I’m not Skye.”

His gaze slid over her. “True, but this is the same city she used to love. This is the place where I watched her.” His head tilted a little to the left as he seemed to savor a memory. “Skye was one hell of a dancer.”

Claire had actually seen Skye once on stage. He was right—Skye was phenomenal.

“You remind me of her,” Drake added as he kept studying her. “Something about the eyes. No, the fear in your eyes.”

Warily, she eased around the desk.

“What are you afraid of, Claire Kramer?” Drake murmured. His voice was low, rumbling. His face was all hard lines and angles. Danger. When she looked at Drake, she thought of darkness and of the threats that waited in the night.

Some women might like that wild edge that clung to him. It just made her nervous.

What are you afraid of? His question had made her tense. “Don’t you know?” Claire asked him. Noah did. Trace did. Surely Drake had been told about her past, too.

But Drake shook his head. “Some. Not all. Your past is your own.” His lips twisted. “I sure as hell don’t want anyone looking at my past. It’s bloody and full of death.”

“So is mine.”

The silence stretched between them.

“Then why don’t we just screw the talk about the past and just focus on the present?” Drake suggested. “And in the present, you sure have my boy Noah twisted up.”

She did?

Was that good or bad?

“Noah’s not like me and Trace. He holds himself back. He’s damn smart. He knows that a woman can destroy a man faster than anything else on earth.”

Drake sounded as if he were speaking from personal experience. “I’m not looking to destroy Noah.”

“Good.” His smile flashed. “Because then I’d have to destroy you, and I think I rather like you.”

He’d just threatened her. Claire’s fingers curled tightly around the edge of the desk.

“I don’t have a lot of friends in this world,” Drake continued. “Noah is one of the few people who has always stood by me, no matter what screwed up shit I did.”

Just as Noah was standing by her?

“But don’t let his appearance fool you, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. Helplessly, Claire shivered. Only one other man had called her by that endearment.

“Noah is a hell of a lot more dangerous than most people believe. I’ve always thought that, if someone were to wreck that perfect control of his, Noah York might just be the deadliest man I’ve ever met.”

“Why…” She pulled in a deep breath. “Why are you trying to warn me away from him?”

“Because I think you might be the one to wreck that perfect control.” He crossed the room until he stood just two feet away from her. Not touching her, thank goodness, but still too close. “He doesn’t keep them, you know.”

Now she was lost. “Keep what?”

“His women. He sleeps with them, gets the lust out of his system, then he lets them go. He doesn’t like to have the same lover twice in a row.”

Her heart seemed to freeze in her chest. Noah had been with her, and as soon as they’d returned to New York, he’d rushed out of town. Away from me?

“He usually pushes his lovers aside, but here you are, all snug in his suite, and he has me playing guard duty for you.” He gave a low whistle. “That’s new, and it’s dangerous.”

He was wrong. “I’m not a threat to Noah.”

“Aren’t you?”

She shook her head.

“Good. Because, as I said, I like you.”

Then what did he tell to the women he didn’t like?

“Even if you do have that injured, delicate bird thing happening.” He waved his hand at her. “Do something about that, would you?”

She could only blink. “I’m not an injured bird.” Now that was just insulting.

He smiled. “That’s better. You had some bite in those words.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m in the suite. Completely safe for the night.” She’d been safe all day. “I think you can probably leave now.”

“Why would I leave the suite? I just ordered room service for us. The room service menu in this place is damn good. Noah made sure of that.”

Uh, yes, Claire had realized that quickly.

“Come on. It will be here any moment…” Then he turned his back and took about four steps before he hesitated and said, “I promise, I won’t bite. Noah’s already marked you as his. I know how to keep my hands to myself.” After that little announcement, he kept walking.

She didn’t follow him.

Noah’s already marked you as his.

She rubbed her chilled arms.

Noah opened the door to his suite and slipped inside the dark interior to—

“Three a.m., hoss…sure didn’t expect to see you come dragging in at this hour.”

A light flipped on near the couch. The illumination spilled on Drake’s features. The guy was lounging against the cushions, looking quite at home. Too at home.

“What the hell are you doing in my suite?” Noah demanded. Since he’d known that Drake was in New York, he’d gotten the guy to keep an eye on Claire.

Not spend the night in the same suite with her.

Drake grinned. When Drake grinned, it made Noah nervous.

“I was getting to know your Claire,” Drake said. “That woman likes her secrets, doesn’t she?”

Claire…she has secrets. A darkness inside. With her, what you see isn’t what you get.

Noah shut the door behind him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean getting the woman to talk with me was like pulling teeth.” He shook his head and stayed sprawled on the couch. “I don’t think she cares much for me.”

“Usually you don’t have a problem charming the ladies.”

“No.” Drake glanced toward the shut bedroom door. “But I don’t think she’s one for charmers.”

Noah dropped his bag. He was so tired his bones ached, but he’d been determined to get back to Claire as fast as possible.

“Want to tell me about your mystery trip?”

Now Noah was the once glancing toward the bedroom door. “Is she asleep?”

“She’s been that way for a few hours now. Tried to get her drunk with some wine,” Drake confessed. “Didn’t work. The woman didn’t even touch her glass.”

Noah’s eyes narrowed. “We need to be clear on something.” He’d thought it was obvious when he asked Drake to watch Claire. “You don’t fuck with her, understand?”

Drake laughed softly. “But you do.”

“Only me.” He tossed aside his jacket. “Claire is—”

“A broken bird, a woman who needs your protection.” Now Drake was mocking.

“No,” Noah snarled. That sure wasn’t what he saw when he looked at Claire. “She’s a survivor. She’s been through hell, and I want to make sure she never has to suffer again.”

Drake seemed to absorb that. “And you’ll do anything to keep her safe, is that it?”

“Yes,” he rasped.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” Now Drake rose and paced toward Noah. “I don’t give out advice often, but for you, I’ll make an exception. Seeing as how we go back so far…and you’re one of the few people who can—”

“Actually stand your psychotic ass?”

“Understand me,” Drake muttered. He heaved out a sigh. “You were smarter than Trace and I were. You didn’t get wrapped up in a woman. You kept your distance. You played it safe.”

Noah waited.

“You need to keep playing it safe. Opening yourself up to a woman like Claire, that is a big mistake. She’ll rip your world apart, man.”

Noah didn’t speak.

“When Trace almost lost Skye, you saw what it did to him.” Drake’s face hardened as worry glinted in his eyes. “Do you really want that shit to happen to you?”

His back teeth had clenched so hard they ached. “I have no intention of losing Claire.”