Wicked Lovers 07 Ours to Love (3 page)

“A little help, please?”

Kata’s question jolted London into action. She grabbed Javier’s waist. God, he radiated
heat. It seared down her palms, staggering her. If this man tumbled her to a bed and
covered her body with his, he’d burn her up with his heat alone, not to mention that
sinful streak of a mouth, wide and somehow commanding. The thought of him slanting
those lips over hers . . . She almost couldn’t breathe.

“London? You okay?”

The concern in Kata’s voice ripped her attention away from Javier, and she looked
around the bronzed muscles of his shoulder to find the woman’s dark gaze questioning
her.

“Fine. Sorry. Sometimes, I’m a bit slow.”
Like when I see gorgeous, mostly naked hunks
.

Kata sent her an encouraging smile. “You’re fine, sweetie.”

Between them, Javier’s knees gave out. He slumped forward, and London caught him,
staggering to bear his weight. She wrapped her arms around his middle. His hot chest
seared her through her thin mesh T-shirt. Despite the heat, her nipples tightened,
bunched.

If this was sexual attraction, now she knew why so many people read and sang songs
about it. As it threatened to knock London back, she sucked in a breath, trying to
find her balance as she staggered to the bed with Javier leaning all over her. He
was mostly unconscious. He wouldn’t remember this or her. At best, he’d think she
was a nice person for helping when he needed it. At worst, he would think of her as
a pudgy blonde, starstruck because of her abysmal lack of experience with men. Either
way, she was insignificant to him. Time to pull her head out of the clouds and her
girl parts away from fantasy land. She tried to console herself with the thought that
maybe he was a horrible human being. Or bad in bed—not that she’d know the difference.
But another glance at him had her changing her mind. This man would never be bad at
anything.

Together, she and Kata wrangled him back into bed. Even his legs were heavy, and she
had to wrap her arms around his lean middle to straighten him across the mattress.
With her face all but buried in the hard ridges of his abdominal muscles and the healthy
bulge a few inches lower, it was little wonder the view sharpened the ache right between
her legs.

Being closer to him than Kata was, London reached across Javier to flip the blankets
back over his body. He moaned, cursed faintly. She glanced his way to find his hazy
stare on her breasts, now dangling less than a foot from his face. He peered up at
her with a smile.

“Beauty,” he whispered.

Me?
Impossible. The guy was lost in his own world, maybe even hallucinating about his
late wife.

Then he closed his eyes again, and it didn’t matter anymore.

To a man like him, she would never be important. While she . . . well, she had a bad
feeling he’d haunt her dreams for many nights to come.

Chapter Two

J
AVIER
woke slowly, aware of a baseball bat slamming repeatedly into his forehead. At least
that’s what the painful throbbing in his head felt like. With a groan, he ventured
to open one eye just a slit. Sunlight streamed through the window, stabbing him with
a pickax. He fell back with a curse.

What had he done last night?

Mentally sifting through his memories, Javier remembered Dominion and Whitney’s red
ass. Anxiety had hit him then, freezing him up. Xander had tried to coach him through
it, but Javier remembered anger gripping him. He’d walked out on his brother. And
God, he’d abandoned a restrained sub who’d been all warmed up and needing play. He’d
left her in a public place, where she was vulnerable to any abusive troll. He hadn’t
assured her that she’d been lovely and pleasing. He’d simply thrown the flogger and
fled. But it wasn’t the first time he’d failed to protect and nurture someone in his
care. He could captain a multibillion-dollar company, but damn it if his personal
relationships weren’t a fucking wreck.

What had he done after that? Who else had he hurt with his thoughtless actions? Most
everything between the club and this moment stretched out like a big black void.

Except his fight with Xander.

With crystal clarity, he remembered spilling out every dreadful accusation he’d allowed
to fester inside of him for the past year. He’d laid the blame for Francesca’s death
at his brother’s feet. Javier squeezed his eyes shut. It wasn’t totally Xander’s fault;
his late wife had made her choices, which apparently included some lethal lothario
who’d paid more attention to her than he had. But if Xander had taken Francesca in
hand, she wouldn’t have been in Aruba with her killer. That fact was inescapable.
And thinking this much right now made his head hurt even worse.

He rolled to his side with a pained moan. His stomach turned. God, was he going to
be sick? How much had he had to drink last night?

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” drawled a feminine voice nearby.

Since he hadn’t awakened with a woman in over a year, that brought Javier’s eyes open
wide. Feet away, he saw a beautiful Latina wearing a thin black tank with a built-in
but wholly inadequate bra, sitting in the corner of an unfamiliar room. Her coffee-colored
hair hung in waves, the ends curling around her ample breasts. Her plump nipples pressed
hard against the thin cotton. She’d drawn up one of her knees against her chest and
curled an arm around it. Her black yoga pants stretched tightly across lush hips and
thighs.

“Good morning.” He propped himself up on his elbows and stared. Shit, he had no memory
of this gorgeous woman. If he’d finally decided to get back on the proverbial bike
and start riding again, he’d chosen well, but he wished to fuck he could remember
it. When would he have found her? Where? His head throbbed. Nothing made sense.

A small smile played at the corners of her mouth. She reached to the little table
beside the chair, picked up a steaming mug, and sipped. “Coffee?”

“Please,” he croaked. It would help to clear his head, and maybe while she fetched
the brew he might get some spark of recollection. “Black.”

But no. He watched her curvy backside retreat until she disappeared down the hall
and around a corner. Nothing. Why couldn’t he remember getting her supine and under
him?

She came back a few moments later with another piping-hot mug and set it with a saucer
on the little bedside table, along with two familiar orange tablets. “There you go.
With a little ibuprofen, as well.”

Bless her.
Javier eased up, surprised to realize he was wearing his boxers and nothing else.
He didn’t bother covering himself with the sheet because the gorgeous brunette had
presumably seen and touched it all. Hadn’t she?

“So . . .” he started as he grabbed his coffee and gulped it, using it to wash down
the pills.

“So.” She took a sip from her own mug and raised a brow.

Hell, she wasn’t giving him anything to work with. He was just going to have to be
indelicate. “I’m sorry, but I have to confess . . . I don’t remember your name.”

She looked even more amused, which confused him. Why wasn’t she pissed off? “I’m Kata.”

Still not ringing any bells. “I’m Javier.”

“I know.” Now she looked like she was suppressing a laugh as she sipped more of her
coffee.

“Listen, you’re probably going to think I’m an ass, but I don’t remember anything
about last night. Did we, um . . .” The word “fuck” sounded too raunchy to say to
her clean-scrubbed face. “Make love” was too personal. He didn’t make love to anyone.
“Have sex?”

“You don’t remember?” She batted her lashes, looking just a little bit crushed.

Immediately, he felt like a heel and took her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Damn it!
I must have had too much to drink and . . .” Shit, that sounded bad. He needed to
shut up and focus on what had happened last night. It would be so much easier if pain
wasn’t still thundering in his head. But he owed it to Kata to try.

After leaving Dominion, Xander had dragged his ass back to the Dallas mansion they’d
rented. A member of the staff had brought him a dinner plate. He’d halfheartedly picked
at it before prowling the house like a caged beast desperate for freedom. When he
stalked back to his room, a convenient glass of Cîroc had been sitting on his nightstand,
luring him wordlessly to oblivion. He’d downed it gratefully.

Only now was he questioning where it had come from. Xander had done his level best
to remove all the booze from the house. So why had that glass been there? And why
did he feel as if he had more than the usual hangover? Unless . . . Xander had put
the vodka there and laced it with something stronger. How the hell else could he be
here, wherever here was, with a complete stranger?

“Where am I?” he asked.

“You’re in Lafayette, Louisiana.”

What?
Wasn’t Lafayette basically at the crossroads between Nowhere Town and Hicksville?
Yes, it was the ass crack of the world. He’d never been here, never wanted to even
visit. There was no way he could have driven himself the six hours to Lafayette last
night and not remembered it. This had to be his brother’s doing.
That son of a bitch!
Apparently, Xander didn’t understand the meaning of “fuck off,” but Javier swore
he’d pound it through his brother’s skull.

But that also meant he’d never touched Kata, and she’d been in on this scheme all
along.

“This is the first time we’ve met, isn’t it?”

A genuine smile flashed across her face. “You figured that out pretty quickly. Yeah.”

“You might have told me that instead of letting me squirm.” He sent her a chastising
glance.

Her smiled widened. “I might have . . . but where’s the fun in that? Your brother
brought you here in the middle of the night and dumped you in bed. I was asleep, so
this is the first time we’re meeting.”

Well, hell. If Kata was acquainted with his brother, it was a good bet that Xander
knew Kata in the biblical sense. He eased back in the bed with a sigh and used the
sheet to cover himself. She laughed and stood, reaching her hands up high, stretching.
In this position, there was no way he could miss the wink of her diamond naval ring
and the twin circles pushing against the fabric around her pierced nipples.
Gorgeous.
Xander might be a complete douche . . . but he had great taste in women.

“Where is my brother?”

“According to the note I found, Xander is out with Tara, my sister-in-law. We share
this place. No idea when they’ll be back.”

Javier ground his teeth together. “Thank you. I’ll be leaving now. My brother might
have brought me here, but I won’t impose on you anymore. Lovely meeting you. Thanks
for the coffee and ibuprofen.”

Javier staggered to his feet. The blood rushed out of his head, and he damn near fell
back to the bed. Steadying himself on the nearby lamp, he almost knocked it over,
then barely righted the modern, brushed nickel contraption . . . just as his stomach
turned over. That only made his head throb more. He sagged back to the mattress. So
much for his grand exit.

Later, when he felt better, he’d leave. After he’d seen Xander. Yeah, he wanted to
kick baby brother’s ass first. If he left now, it would only look as if he was tucking
tail and running. Xander didn’t scare him at all, but Javier had to admit that his
brother was far sneakier than he’d given the asshole credit for.

So who exactly was Kata and why would she help his brother? Hadn’t Kata mentioned
that Xander had sneaked away with another woman? Maybe that meant Kata wasn’t fucking
his younger brother. Maybe . . . but unlikely. Xander nailed every pretty female who
moved and breathed. But Kata had said earlier that Tara was her sister-in-law? Fuck,
the whole morning had been one confusion after another.

“Are you married?”

“Yep. So is Tara. We’re the wives of the Edgington brothers, in case Xander ever mentioned
them.”

Logan and Hunter, the Navy SEALs. Yes, Javier had a vague recollection of Xander talking
them up. For ogling Kata, her husband could kill him in twenty ways in under a minute
with his bare hands without breaking a sweat, while Javier was too sick to defend
himself. How fucking comforting that wasn’t.

“Is your husband here?”

She laughed. “No, and no turning green on me. I don’t expect him home for a while.”

He sagged back to the pillow with relief. Good. So he wasn’t going to have his balls
forcibly detached from his body and shoved down his throat. That was the only good
news he’d had all morning.

“I suppose you know why Xander brought me here?”

Kata pursed her full lips and hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “He
said something about removing your distractions.”

“You don’t have a drop of liquor in this house, do you?”

“Not as of this morning.” She sent him a sympathetic smile.

It raised his hackles. His motherfucking brother was babying him. Xander was definitely
a dead man. The second he walked in the door, Javier planned to skewer him. Why the
hell hadn’t his brother just confronted him?

Last night’s argument filtered back through his brain. That had been one hell of a
confrontation. Xander had tried to reason with him . . . in his way. Javier had to
admit that he hadn’t exactly been listening. Or been reasonable.
Shit.
But no denying that it had felt good to unleash his anger and tell Xander exactly
what he thought.

Javier ground his teeth together. “Did my brother say how long he intends this little
visit to last?”

“Sorry.” She shrugged noncommittally. “Um . . . not to overstep, but I’m a probation
officer for Lafayette Parish, which means I’m part cop. But I’m also part therapist.
I’d be happy to listen and talk things through with you.”

The notion of spilling all his secrets, his anger, especially to a beauty he’d just
met, horrified him. “You don’t even know me.”

“Sometimes an impartial stranger can give the best advice.”

Her kindness took him aback, and he felt the anger clawing up inside him again. “What
is there to say, Kata? My wife ran off with her lover, who killed her brutally. I’m
a little bitter.”

“You have every right to be. Grief is a long, difficult process. I can’t imagine how
difficult it is to lose a spouse, especially so violently.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay. The offer is there. I won’t be offended if you don’t pick me, but you need
someone to talk to who will listen and be an objective ear. And I think you need to
stop looking for answers or absolution in the bottom of a bottle and find yourself
again.”

Her words stung almost as much as the burning embarrassment coursing through his blood.
Damn, the woman thought he was a broken alcoholic.

Are you?
He heard the whisper in his head.

“I’m fine,” he barked at her.

Disappointment settled across her delicate features. “Right. So is Xander, according
to him. You like booze. He likes girls. Neither of you is remotely screwed up. Got
it. I’m making eggs and bacon. Want any?”

Her sarcasm didn’t quite hide her hurt. Javier held in a wince. He didn’t owe her
any explanations, especially ones that would be like ripping out his entrails and
handing them over to her on a platter, but shame that he’d upset her stung. He might
not owe her his life story, but he owed her some damn courtesy. She’d only been trying
to help.

“I’m sorry, Kata. My head hurts. I’m mad at my brother.”
I don’t know where I’m going, what I’m doing, or if I even give a damn anymore.
“But I’d love some breakfast.”

Not really, but for her, he’d choke it down. He’d already given her enough grief.

“You’re a terrible liar, but I’ll do my best to make it worth eating.”

“I’ll help,” he called to her retreating back, then looked around the room.

He spotted last night’s trousers folded up on the dresser. They’d be a wrinkled mess,
but that was the least of his worries now. Slowly, he stood, steadying himself with
a death grip on the headboard. His headache had eased from a full-throttle, heavy-metal
pounding to an annoying, repetitive gong. Finally, he made his way across the room,
grabbed his pants, and found the bathroom across the hall. Kata had laid out a new
toothbrush and comb for him. He took the time to use both before donning his pants,
somewhat ready to face the world.

After retrieving his coffee cup, he ambled down the hall to find Kata humming around
the kitchen with the song on the radio, bacon sizzling in a pan. It smelled surprisingly
good.

“Can I help?”

She sent him an amused smile over her shoulder. “Do billionaires cook?”

“No,” he admitted sheepishly. “I set a mean table.”

Kata laughed, then nodded to the little iron bistro breakfast set in the corner. She’d
already done everything, including set out fresh flowers.