Paris (The Adlers Book 4) Page 5

  “Somebody shot at Paris tonight. I don’t have as strong a connection to her for some reason, so I didn’t see it… but I could feel her fear. She’s okay, but I think she’ll run in some misguided belief she can keep those around her safe.” Which means she’ll be all on her own. Goddess, I hate to think of her out there scared and alone. Oh, damn, I don’t feel so good.

  Luke shook his head in frustration as Brooklyn swayed on her feet, wondering how long it would be before she figured out what was going on.

  Carrying her in his arms out of his office, Luke heard Mitch’s soft laughter before he noted the screen going dark. Take good care of my future great-niece or nephew.

  Ian McGregor looked at the caller ID on his phone and smiled when he saw Mitch Grayson’s name. They’d been friends and business partners for years but communicated almost exclusively via video conference call. A phone call usually meant the ShadowDance team had come up against some kind of pressing challenge or significant piece of information about something happening on the east coast. Since ShadowDance Mountain was nestled deep in the Colorado Rockies, they relied on him if something came up in his neck of the woods, as his midwestern friends referred to anything along the eastern seaboard.

  “Mitch, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” Ian didn’t have to wait long for the answer, and he didn’t like what he heard. His lovely wife and devoted submissive had been stalked for years by the son of a prominent politician, so he understood Mitch’s unspoken concern. Since Paris was the new sister-in-law of one of his club members, the love interest of another member, and younger sister of two other long-time members, Ian felt a particular responsibility to the young woman.

  “Unfortunately, I’ve had some experience with the entitled sons of politicians. They aren’t smart but are usually remarkably resourceful. And their damned resources are well-funded enough to be a pain in the ass.”

  “Which is a polite way of saying mommy and daddy would rather dole out money than deal with the monster their years of disinterest and apathy have created.” Mitch knew Callie McGregor’s story, and like everyone else who knew her, he was damned impressed. Callie had worked for a local tabloid when she’d been tasked with sneaking onto Ian’s private island to gather information about Club Isola, Ian’s ultra-exclusive kink club catering to Washington D.C.’s elite. Unfortunately for Callie, the entire island was wired for sight and sound—hell, it was one of the most secure places on the east coast.

  “Brooklyn thinks Paris will run, in some misguided attempt to keep the people around her safe.” Ian rolled his eyes—damned if this story didn’t sound familiar. “I remembered the bracelets you made for Callie, Holly, and Abby—among others.” Ian had made high tech pieces of jewelry, complete with tracking signals and a panic button that brought help from multiple sources. The one he’d made for his wife, the wife of his best friend, and his friend’s sister started what became a very lucrative business. Later, he’d made them for all his friends’ submissives and wives.

  “Is there a way to get one of the bracelets for Paris?

  “Who’s watching her?” Ian could feel the surge of protectiveness moving through him. Women should be treasured, not stalked. Knowing Paris Adler has become a victim enrages him. “The last I heard Trinity Stone was the Sheriff there and rumor has it he and Ms. Adler have been dancing around each other for several months.”

  Ian was familiar with Evan Monroe’s clinic, hell, the place was one of the most respected private medical facilities in the world—the level of care, the skill of the surgeon himself, and the over the top security attracted the rich and powerful like flies to honey. Unfortunately, the best security in the world could be compromised, and Ian was glad Mitch had called.

  “Sheriff Stone was running in the nearby woods when someone took pot shots at Paris last night. She wasn’t hurt, but her sister will be returning home soon, and everyone expects her to take off, in a misguided effort to keep her pregnant sister safe.” Knowing the great lengths Callie had gone to for her own sister, unworthy and wretched as she was, Ian wasn’t at all surprised to hear the Adlers expected her to run.

  Holding out his hand to Callie when she appeared in the open door of his office, Ian smiled. He loved the whisper of sound her bare feet made padding across the wood floor as she moved gracefully to him.

  “Let Trinity know I’ll have a bracelet to him in twenty-four hours. Until then, I have full faith he can find enough ways to contain Ms. Adler.” Callie settled on his lap, one arm wrapping around his neck, the heat of her bare breast quickly penetrating the cotton dress shirt he wore. With their children spending time in Texas with family friends, Ian once again insisted his lovely sub be bared to him unless told otherwise.

  After giving him two beautiful children, Callie’s body had changed in subtle ways, and Ian couldn’t be more pleased. Of all the gifts he’d given her over the years, the one Ian was the proudest of was confidence. He’d even added some of the things he’d learned to the club’s training program for Doms. Seeing Callie blossom in his care brought him more joy than he’d ever thought possible.

  After disconnecting the call, Ian leaned forward, licking a circle around Callie’s nipple then blowing over the damp skin, smiling where the nip puckered into a sharp point. “I love the way your body responds to my touch.”

  “Your touch lights up even the smallest parts of me, Master.” Damn, he loved this woman. Her voice was equal parts temptation and challenge, but there was no mistaking the desire in her sparkling blue eyes. He was thrilled to hear the confident tone of her sweet seduction; she’d been so unsure of herself when she first snuck onto his island. Oh, she’d put on a good front, but he’d seen through her bravado immediately.

  “I’m going to meet the challenge I hear in your voice, Carlin.” At five-foot-one inch, Callie was petite by any standard. He’d insisted she continue her self-defense training after they’d married and admired how physically fit she remained, no matter how busy she was—her stamina was going to serve her well when they moved to the playroom. “I’ll meet you in the playroom in fifteen minutes, pet.” When she started to stand, he tightened his hold and shook his head. “It’s been a while since we played, I want to remind you there is no shame in using your safe word, baby.”

  “Thank you, Master, but I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time. I’ve missed being able to give myself to you.” Soft fingers stroked the underside of his chin, her eyes never leaving his. “You own my heart, Ian. Our love is the foundation everything else is built upon. Make your calls, get a bracelet to Ms. Adler. I could feel her pain through you and Mitch, I know you won’t be able to focus until you know the beautiful piece of your genius on its way to her. She likes tanzanite. Just so you know.” Ian pulled her into a crushing hug before setting her on her feet.

  “I’m looking forward to our scene more than you know, Carlin. Every day you fill a place in my soul I didn’t even know was empty until you came into my life. Your trust is my most treasured possession, your love a gift from God above.” Watching her walk from the room, Ian sent up a silent prayer of thanks for the pissant manager who’d sent her to his island. The son of a bitch had planned to expose Ian and the members of Club Isola. He’d sent an angel in a rowboat who’d claimed Ian’s heart the moment his eyes locked with those of his clumsy intruder.

  Chapter Seven

  Paris looked down at the diamond and tanzanite bracelet Trinity had fastened around her wrist after lunch. Sliding the jeweled ring around her arm, Paris was enthralled with the way the stones reflected the fading rays of the afternoon sun and studied the recessed button he’d referred to as a panic alarm. She’d been apprehensive about the whole idea, knowing instinctively it was little more than a lovely anchor.

  After she and Trinity did a verbal dance around the outer edge of an argument, he’d finally phoned the bracelet’s creator, Ian McGregor. It had taken her little more than a heartbeat to know she was wasting her breath. The infamous ent
repreneur was focused and informative, but it was impossible to miss the posture, tone, and demeanor of a Dominant. Paris knew she should be grateful for the gift, hell, the stones alone were worth a fortune, but the whole mess with David seemed to be spiraling out of control.

  “Damn, I recognize that skeptical expression. It’s the I know you are blowing smoke up my ass look all subs get when a Dom is playing every PCBS card in the deck.”

  Paris watched as the woman who looked like a Native American Tinkerbell bounced into view. It was hard to tell through a monitor, but the woman appeared to be about the same size and age as Paris. She studied Paris for a split second before grinning.

  “Holy hell, I know who you are. You’re Paris Adler. Damn, girl, it’s great to meet you. I’ve consulted with your brother, Austin, and sister, Asia a couple of times. They are both so proud of you. I’m Abby Garrett by the way, and the two men glaring in the background are my loving husbands… Logan Douglas and Kalen Black.”

  “Love, this is a little over the top—even for you. Barging into Master Ian’s office won’t bode well for you if he decides to call it in.”

  Paris listened to the man standing behind Abby, marveling at how everything aside from his voice seemed to fade into the background.

  “You see that look, Callie? I see it on women’s faces all the time. I swear his voice is pure magic. He should be required to register it as a weapon of mass manipulation.” Abby’s comment shook Paris from her trance, and she grinned as a woman she recognized as Callie McGregor stepped into view.

  When Paris started reading erotic romance novels in college, she quickly recognized her brothers as Doms. It hadn’t taken much research to discover the premier kink clubs in the country, and Callie McGregor’s picture had caught her interest. News articles about Callie’s treatment at the hands of a ruthless politician and his wife had been few and far between, but as Paris thought back over the few she’d read, there were some eerie similarities in their stories.

  “It’s nice to meet you both. Mrs. McGregor, I recently saw pictures of the resort you helped design and now manage. I was really impressed with the few images I could find. I’d love to see it someday.” When Callie’s face lit up, Paris didn’t miss the look of pride in Ian McGregor’s eyes; the man was obviously besotted with his talented wife.

  “Please call me Callie and thank you for your kind words. I hear we have a few unfortunate circumstances in common. I’m happy to hear you’ve gotten one of Ian’s bracelets. Mine saved my hiney, and even though I hope you don’t need it… the sense of security you’ll gain is worth the small intrusion into your privacy.”

  “You two get stalked because you’re hot, and I get tossed into a trunk because my brain cranks out energy nonsense like a spoiled two-year-old gobbling chocolate bars. The world is going to hell, I tell you.”

  Abby’s teasing tone lightened the mood and Paris suddenly realized how much she missed having friends she could joke around with. Since the stalking began, she’d found herself more and more isolated, afraid to go out, worrying the stalker’s behavior would escalate. Abby’s expression softened as she leaned closer to the screen.

  “Wear the bracelet, Paris. It might well save your life. Believe me, the most terrifying moment of my life was when I realized the kidnappers had taken my bracelet and earrings.” Paris must have looked confused because the other man standing behind her stepped forward.

  “When Abby’s primary and secondary trackers went offline, we knew she was in trouble.” Paris saw the man’s large hand wrap around the back of his wife’s neck, and the dark-haired beauty seemed to melt under his touch. “There was a protocol for activating the third tracker, a call that could only be made by her brother or Ian.”

  “Three tracking devices?” Holy shit, what kind of projects does she work on? Paris wondered for a brief moment if working with Abby Garret put Austin and Asia in danger.

  “Your family is perfectly safe, Paris. The group responsible for Abby’s kidnapping wanted her to work for them—much like your sister, London. Once her research became public, the danger to her became negligible.”

  Paris stared at Callie, wondering how the other woman had known what she was thinking. Damn, I’m starting to think everybody has some sort of magic skill and I missed out.

  “Your gifts are waiting for you to uncover them.” Callie’s words made Paris smile as Ian pulled her onto his lap.

  “I hope you’ll heed Callie’s and Abby’s advice, Paris. I’ll let Abby tell you about the third tracker when you meet. She was forced to reconcile her gratitude for being found before succumbing to exposure, with her ire at sporting a transmitter she didn’t know was there. In the meantime, I want to remind you if you activate the panic alarm, we’ll begin recording immediately, so feed us any information you can.”

  She understood what he was saying and the realization her life might depend on the link sent fear rocketing through her.

  The call ended with Ian and Callie issuing her an open invitation to visit Club Isola as their guest, but Paris had been too lost in worry to do more than nod her thanks. Now, after having time to consider everything she’d learned about the bracelet’s features, it seemed even more reasonable for her to leave. London would be home soon, and the last thing Paris wanted to do was endanger anyone—particularly not one of her siblings or her unborn niece or nephew.

  “I am getting damned tired of David Lamb pulling my strings, making me dance to his tune like a fucking marionette. Because of him, I’m painting a target on everyone I care about.” On one level, Paris recognized she was reeling even as she wished for the millionth time, she could turn back the clock… Damn, there were so many things she would do differently.

  Stop looking backward, focus on the future. The simple words of wisdom wafted through her mind. Paris remembered hearing her mother repeating the simple mantra often when talking to her children, but they’d never meant much until this moment. Sighing, she stepped back from the window. Turning, she was surprised to see Trinity standing across the room behind her.

  Looking at him made her heart ache with sadness. Damn this disaster all to hell and back, Trinity was going to be hard to walk away from. Plastering on a bright smile, she started to pass by where he stood, leaning against the most beautiful stone fireplace she’d ever seen, looking both delicious and dangerous.

  “What would you like for dinner? I’m not really much of a cook, but I can grill steaks and nuke potatoes. I’m beginning to miss my fast food fixes. Maybe I’ll drive into Boston tomorrow and get lunch.” Yes! That sounded perfect. She’d almost slipped by when his hand cupped her elbow. The movement had been so quick, it was little more than a blur.

  “What did I tell you about lying, Sprite?” If she hadn’t been so close, she’d have missed the softly spoken words. The accusation grated on her nerves, despite her knowing he was making a legitimate point.

  “I’m not lying. The only junk food I’ve had since leaving St. Barth’s was at the airport on the way home, and everyone knows airport food is made by aliens, so it doesn’t count.” He stared into her eyes, watching her with such intense focus, Paris found herself fighting an almost irresistible urge to drop her gaze to the floor. Damn it all to chocolate-dipped donuts, this isn’t a scene, keep your head in the game. When Trinity kept his eyes locked on hers, Paris felt something inside her flip. Hell, maybe he deserves to deal with David.

  “Better.” Keeping his hand at her elbow, Trinity pushed away from the wall and escorted her into the kitchen.

  Better? What’s better? I’m not better, I’m a fucking train wreck. Damn, I have five brothers who are, down to the last one, pushy and cryptic. How did I not see this coming?

  Trinity was relieved to see the feisty spirit back in Paris’ eyes. When she’d turned from the window, the overwhelming look of sadness reflected in her expression felt like a punch straight to the gut. He should probably be grateful Paris hadn’t come up with a plausible excuse for traveling into t
he city. While she might well miss the fast food, he knew most college students favored, she’d feel much better once she settled into the healthier habits the pack had adopted more than a century earlier.

  His ambiguous remark sparked confusion, but he’d take the puzzled look over her earlier bleak one any day of the week. Leading Paris into the kitchen, Trinity grinned when she started to fidget. She might have asked what he wanted for lunch, but he’d quickly discovered she was clueless when it came to cooking a real meal.

  During one of her visits, Trinity had sat at the bar watching her struggle to make a salad. Of course, he hadn’t left well enough alone, when she’d noted his amusement. He asked, “Why didn’t anyone show you the proper way to chop vegetables, Beautiful?” But it had been her sister, London who’d answered. Moving from the stove to stand by her sister, had been a less than subtle reminder London had her younger sister’s back, despite the gleam in her eyes, letting him know her move didn’t indicate anger.

  “Paris wasn’t interested in cooking, there were already more people in the kitchen than were needed or appreciated.” When Trinity hadn’t responded, London laughed. “Little sister was usually curled up in a tree reading. She was the only kid I knew who wore out her library card.” Since he already knew how often the family moved while the kids were growing up, visiting a library often enough to wear out a card was impressive.

  Now, watching Paris shift from one foot to the other while staring into the open refrigerator, he remembered her commenting how uncomfortable she’d be once her sister returned home. Obviously, the youngest Adler was well accustomed to being told to bugger-off. What she didn’t seem to know was Elijah and Evan had already returned and moved London into the Alpha’s portion of the main house. Having spoken to Eli early this morning to confirm they planned to settle Paris into what the security staff called the clinic house, Trinity hoped she didn’t give them too much trouble about the gift.