Release (27 page)

He heard the tremor in her voice. He leaned down until their faces were just inches apart. Her return glare conveyed anger and wariness in equal parts. “Are you so scared of what’s happened between us that you’d risk bodily harm in order to escape it?”

He saw her throat convulse as she swallowed. “I’m not afraid. I just don’t think it’s smart for us to say here together.”

“’S’at a fact?” he drawled.

Her eyes sparked defiantly.

“Well, I happen to think it’s a brilliant idea,” he said. “And since it’s my business to know this stuff, we’re going to go with my conclusion.”

“’S’at a fact?” She’d been sarcastically trying to imitate his drawl, but it sounded like she was chewing gravel instead.

“Are you gonna walk inside?”

Sean leaned down and swept her up into his arms.

“That’s what I figured,” he growled as he stalked toward the elevator.

She struggled and hollered in his ear, but very little penetrated the red haze of fury that fogged Sean’s vision as he neared the elevator. For some irrational reason, all he could keep thinking about as he carried Genny onto the elevator was that this had all happened because last night, after they’d finished making love, Genny’d refused to tell him she loved him.

She’d refused him, period.

When he kicked the penthouse door closed a moment later, the loud bang startled him back into the present moment. Either that, or it was what Genny yelled furiously as he stalked down the hallway with her in his arms.

“PUT ME DOWN, SEAN KENNEDY. You told me all this caveman stuff was only for the bedroom . . . that you’d never try to control me outside of it!”

Sean flipped the handle on the master bedroom door and strode into the room. She gasped when he tossed her onto the huge bed. She came up on her elbows and stared at him balefully.

“Well, look at where we are, girl,” he said quietly.

She paused and glanced around, as though realizing for the first time just where they actually were. Her wary gaze flickered up to meet his.

“I don’t want to stay here,” she told him fiercely. He glanced down to the sight of her breasts rising and falling between pants.

“Right at the moment, I don’t particularly care what you
want
,” he told her before he turned and started to walk out of the room. “You’re safe here, and that’s all I care about.”

“Sean? What are you doing?” she called out behind him.

She’d stood and was walking toward the door when he re-entered the master bedroom a few seconds later. He shot her a hard look before he slammed the door shut. She must have caught a hint at the magnitude of his irritation because when he stalked toward her, she edged back toward the bed. He saw her glance at what he held in his hands. Her eyes widened.

“I thought you said you didn’t know the security code to the penthouse,” he said as they edged toward the bed.

“I . . . I didn’t when I first came.”

“So, what? You watched me while I wasn’t looking and memorized the code?”

Annoyance flashed across her face. “So what if I did? You can’t
keep
me here against my will, Sean.”

He rolled his eyes. “Haven’t we already had this discussion?” He began to separate the four straps and cuffs he held in his hand.

“Wh- . . . what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m going to restrain you to the bed,” he answered matter-of-factly. “If you hadn’t been so sneaky and stolen the code, I wouldn’t have to. But seeing as I have to keep you here until I figure out what’s happening, and you’re refusing to stay put . . .”

He held up a leather cuff and gave her a pointed look.

She looked stunned. “No. I refuse.”

He gave her a glance that told her loud and clear he could care less what she did. He was restraining her to the bed.

Her expression collapsed. “Sean, you told me that all I had to do was refuse, and you wouldn’t do it!”

He shook his head slowly. Her look of shock and hurt finally penetrated his thick fury. “I was talking about sex, Genny. I’m not going to restrain you right now for sex. Not at the moment, anyway. I’m going to do it because if I don’t, you’ll run again. Like you just did.” They stared at each other in the taut silence. “I can’t let that happen, girl. I wish you’d believe me. Something’s not right. I think you’re in danger.”

She bit at her lower lip. He sensed her indecision. “All right. I won’t run. You don’t have to tie me up,” she said, giving the restraints a scathing, anxious glance.

He reached up and smoothed a tendril of hair off her cheek.

“I’m afraid I do,” he said as he tucked the strand behind her ear.

Surprise leapt into her eyes again, quickly followed by anger.

“Just for a half hour or so, Genny. I need to finish up a few things in my office, and I’m going to have to leave you here.”

“I said I would stay!”

“You said that before. Just last night. In the parking garage:
‘All right, I’ll stay. I promise.’
Sound familiar?” Sean barked. He took a slow inhale when he saw her disquietude. “I know you’re worried, girl . . . scared about what will happen if we stay here together.” He held up a cuff significantly. “So I’m going to take the choice from you. Do you understand? You’re
going
to stay here. As soon as I’m sure everything is safe, you can go. That’s a promise you can bank on.”

She swallowed thickly, her gaze glued to the leather cuff.

“Now . . . go ahead and get out of your clothes and get on the bed.”

Despite his gentled tone, his words snapped her out of her transfixed state as she stared at the cuff. “Why do I have to take off my clothes? You just said this wasn’t about sex!”

“I said I was going to restrain you so that you didn’t run off again while I left the penthouse. But when I come back up here, I
am
going to make love to you.”

He watched, mesmerized by the pink stain that spread on her cheeks and deepened the color of her lush lips.

“Go on, girl,” he encouraged gruffly. “Slip out of your clothes and lay down on the bed. We’ll get you all nice and comfortable, and I’ll be back up to join you before you know it.”

CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE

Genevieve stared up at the ceiling and recalled those volatile words uttered in Sean’s sweet, Southern accent. She pulled lightly on the leather cuffs affixed to her wrists and felt the strap tighten. She’d already tried to reach the buckle on the cuff with her fingers, but had been unsuccessful. Apparently whoever made the sex toys meant business.

Just like Sean did.

Her pussy twanged with arousal between her spread legs. The anticipation was nearly killing her.

Damn. How much longer was he going to
be
, anyway?

She’d been part anxious, part curious while she’d watched Sean go about the process of tying her down to the bed. There was no footboard on the bed where one could attach the straps of the restraint, and no posts on the custom-made cherrywood headboard. But none of that seemed to deter Sean. He just affixed the straps to the metal frame of the bed with calm efficiency.

His obvious expertise at restraining a woman irritated Genevieve even beyond his outlandish proposal to tie her down so she wouldn’t escape while he worked. She’d considered fighting him on it, but then she’d looked into his eyes and sensed his determination. They might not be as furious as they had been, but the striking steel blue color still possessed a hard gleam.

Or had that been arousal she’d seen in Sean’s eyes?

Hard to tell. He hadn’t seemed as furious with her as he had been in the parking garage when he picked her up and carried her into the penthouse; his manner not unlike the way he’d hauled those grocery bags in yesterday. But despite that fact that he’d been extremely gentle with her as he’d restrained her naked body to the bed, there was no doubt in Genevieve’s mind that Sean was angry with her for trying to escape.

And hurt.

Maybe it’d been that thought—the realization that he’d thought she was running because she didn’t care—that had made her slowly start to undress while he watched her with a glittering gaze.

Why couldn’t he see how potentially explosive it was for Detective Franklin to begin speculating they were lovers?

Sure, Franklin had questioned everyone at Sauren Solutions following Max’s murder. He’d asked plenty of employees and family friends about Sean and Genevieve’s friendship, but as far as Genevieve knew, no one had said anything that would have promoted the idea that Sean and she were lovers. Most people thought she and Max had an ideal relationship, and Sean had been dating Ava Linley. She believed him when he said that his relationship with Ava was casual and superficial, but Sean certainly wouldn’t have been eager to correct Franklin if the detective thought otherwise. Ava had been Sean’s alibi, after all.

Sean and she
hadn’t
been lovers back then. Not technically. Unless being in love equated with being lovers—Genevieve wasn’t sure about that. And they’d never even admitted out loud that they were falling in love.

Her body shuddered slightly as she recalled Sean’s husky voice whispering those words last night in her ear. Her shiver hadn’t come from being cold. Sean had carefully tucked the sheet and blanket around her naked body to protect her from the chill.

“Are you comfortable?” He’d asked when he had finished restraining her left wrist to the bed.

His face had been less than a foot away from hers. Genevieve had found it difficult to look into his eyes; she felt so vulnerable.

She’d forced herself to meet his stare anyway.

“I’m fine.”

“I wasn’t just talking about your position being comfortable.” He’d given a significant glance around the master bedroom. “Are you comfortable
in here
?”

“I’m all right.” She was glad she had spoken the truth. She might have been nervous and uncertain about allowing Sean to tie her up to this bed, but her solitary visit to the bedroom earlier had gone a long way toward exorcising the ghosts that resided in the penthouse master bedroom suite.

He’d considered her soberly for a moment before he’d straightened. “I want you to know that after I gained part-ownership of this property, I had the entire facility swept for any surveillance devices. The penthouse—including this bedroom—is clean, Genny.”

She quickly averted her gaze. Her heartbeat began to throb loudly in her ears in the seconds that followed. It was the closest they’d ever come to discussing the volatile topic of Max taping them having sex on that night.

That meant Sean actually did know about the videotape, didn’t it? Did that prove that Max showing it to him—trying to manipulate him with it—had lead to him murdering Max?

“Gen?”

“I said I was fine, Sean.”

And she
was
fine—about being in the master bedroom again, anyway. Not about her anxiety-ridden thoughts regarding Sean committing murder. It
couldn’t
be wise to get involved with Sean. To stay here in the penthouse with him.

To fall in love all over again.

Although, as he’d made a point of telling her earlier, he’d taken the choice away from her.

The last time they’d been in this room, they’d come together in a cataclysm of desire. Max’s death had been the epilogue of that joining. What tragedy would occur this time? If it was Sean’s arrest for Max’s murder, Genevieve would never forgive herself.

That was why she’d run earlier.

Of course, Detective Franklin might just focus his sights back on her. It had never been pleasant, knowing the police suspected she’d murdered Max, but at least it had kept them distracted from focusing on Sean.

Her entire body went rigid a few moments later when she heard the front door close. She lifted her head off the pillow and stared at the bedroom door fixedly. Several seconds of silence passed. She held her breath as her ears strained to hear anything that would indicate what the hell Sean was doing in the penthouse. Minutes later, she heard what sounded like a piece of silverware striking the metal of the kitchen sink. The appetizing scent of toasted bread entered her nostrils.

Was he out there
eating
while she lay tied up to the bed? How
dare
he?

She resisted an overwhelming urge to shout out to him, to tell him to get his ass in there and untie her at that moment. She didn’t treasure the idea of sounding like some kind of screaming shrew, however, so she bit her lip to restrain herself.

In addition to being nervous and uncertain, she was wildly aroused, anticipatory . . . and just plain
curious.

A minute later, she heard a rustling sound emanating from the room to the left of her. Her face was still turned in that direction when the bedroom door snicked open.

Sean walked in carrying a plate and a glass of orange juice. A box was under his arm. He glanced at her, his face impassive, before he set the plate, glass, and box down on a desk. He whipped the long-sleeved cobalt blue sports shirt he’d been wearing over his head. She swallowed with difficulty.

She’d seen him nude now several times, but the impact of seeing his beautiful, muscled torso still left her stunned. He approached the foot of the bed. Genevieve thought he was going to uncuff her, and couldn’t decide if she was relieved or disappointed. Instead, he lengthened the strap on her cuffed ankles about six inches. She shifted her legs restlessly beneath the sheet.

He picked up the plate and glass and came toward her. Genevieve steeled herself against his male beauty.

“You said you’d release me when you got back up here.”

He gave her a “give me a break” look before he sat on the edge of the bed, his ass pressed against her hip. “I never said that. I said I was going to make love to you.”