Reyes wanted her. The electrifying anger he felt when his eyes caressed that mark assured him he would take the woman and make her his. Not because it infuriated him that she had been abused. No, he was not a good enough man to care about that. He was under no illusions he would treat her any better than Ignacio. Hell, he’d probably treat her much worse. Because Ignacio undoubtedly set her up like a trophy in his great mausoleum of a house and then ignored the unapproachable beauty.
Reyes had no intention of ignoring her. He was going to take her and fuck every inch of her, just the way he wanted. Hard, brutal, mean. Exactly how he was. Exactly how this world had shaped him. Because he could. She was about to become spoils of war.
No, he wasn’t angry about the mark on her hand at all. He was pissed that the mark was twisted into the shape of an “H” and not an “R.” He wanted her to belong to him, to the King. When he got his hands on the woman, that would be the first thing he changed.
Finally, after nearly an hour of sitting in the booth together, his eyes rarely leaving her face, she lifted hers to meet his uncompromising gaze. And for the first time in his life, he felt his heart stop in his chest. He was unprepared for the impact. Her eyes – one startling green and the other amber brown – were vivid, stunning and unrelenting. Though her expression didn’t flicker once from the blank mask of icy beauty, he saw the burning disdain, the heated fury buried deep within those fiery orbs for the men that surrounded her. She despised all of them.
His lip lifted in an answering sneer. She refused to drop her eyes from his challenge, despite her husband sitting at the same table. He wanted nothing more, in that moment, than to take this scarred Queen from her throne and tame her. He vowed, then and there, that he would eventually have her.
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Excerpt: Because You’re Mine
"She's been hurt."
The three simple words sent a chill through Jay's heart, dissolving his annoyance at the interruption. He dismissed the two men he'd been meeting with and turned to Greg with a raised brow. Words weren't necessary. Greg had been his right hand for nine years. He understood exactly how much Allie meant to Jay.
"Allison was taken to the hospital in an ambulance twenty minutes ago. Preliminary reports say a knife wound to the arm and across her side. The cuts don't appear to be life threatening, but deep enough to need stitches."
Jay's fury rose with each word. Renowned as he was for icy calm and deliberate control, Allie was the only person that could draw this kind of feeling from him. He struggled to contain the rage so he could ask the requisite questions. It wasn't necessary. Greg knew exactly what he wanted.
"She was working in one of the addiction offices at the soup kitchen. Apparently, a fight broke out among the clients being served in line. She left her office and tried to intervene on her own."
"Of course she did," Jay managed from between gritted teeth.
He turned his back on Greg and stared out the window of his office to the dockyard beyond. It was just like Allie to think with her heart instead of her head. It was going to be the last time she would be allowed to do that. He'd stood in the shadows long enough. He gave her what she wanted. She'd lived her life the way she'd wanted. Now it was his turn.
"Her husband?" he snapped, knowing the answer, but needing to hear anyway.
Greg shook his head. "She sent him a text while she was waiting for the ambulance. Apparently, the little prick’s too busy to go to the hospital himself. Said he'd send someone to pick her up and take her home when she's been patched up."
Jay clenched his fingers on the windowsill and narrowed his eyes on a vessel slowly making dock. It was one of theirs. ”What did she say?"
"She told him not to worry. Said she wanted to catch a cab back to the kitchen. She has to meet with one more client before she goes home and then pick up her car. She plans on driving herself home."
"His response?" Jay demanded.
Greg hesitated, then replied, "He told her not to keep supper waiting for him, he's going to be working late again. I'm checking into it, but at a guess, he's meeting with his side whore."
Jay felt wrath rise up and knew if Derrick were in the room with him he'd be on his knees begging for his life. Jay had despised the idea of this marriage, yet had allowed it to go forward, since it was what she wanted. And what Allie wanted was everything to him.
No more. He would harden his heart to the only thing in the world that could touch him. Her safety would come above all things, including her wishes. It was time. Past time.
"Get the plane ready, we're bringing my girl home."
Allie pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders and tried to curl her legs into her chest without pulling on her fresh stitches. She tried to calm the shivers that wracked her body, but they kept coming. She was laying on a cot, tucked into the far corner of one of the wings of the emergency room in the Regina General Hospital. She wanted to ask for a blanket, but didn't want to disturb any of the busy staff that were rushing by her tiny curtained cubicle.
She'd been in the hospital for nearly three hours. The first hour had been waiting to get into the cubicle, the next had been waiting to see a doctor and the third had been waiting for her doctor to sign the release forms. She wished she could say it was just an extra busy day at the hospital. She knew better. It was always like this. She'd accompanied people there on more than one occasion.
She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to suppress another shiver. Sighing she ran her hand lightly over her arm, avoiding the heavy bandage on her bicep. Her fingers caught in the tangled strands of long dark hair. She shoved it out of the way impatiently and moaned when she jostled her arm. She wiggled her hips in an attempt to get more comfortable on the small metal frame bed when the curtain moved and light flooded her eyes.
Allie blinked up as a man stepped forward. He wasn't wearing scrubs like the nurses and doctors.
She frowned and blinked in the harsh light. "Derrick?"
She knew she was wrong though. Derrick said he wasn't coming. He barely cared enough to acknowledge her text. It was only her stupid heart that hoped he might rush to his injured wife's bedside that made her send that text in the first place. He wasn't even coming home from work to check on her. That was how much he cared. No, the man standing before her was not her husband.
"Hello, Allie."
Heart thundering, Allie pushed herself up using her good arm. She blinked against the brightness of the light, her mouth opening in disbelief. It was impossible. He couldn't be here with her. Could he? Yet the deep, measured voice could belong to no one else.
He looked so good it made her body ache in a way nothing else could. He looked older than she remembered. It had been five years since she last saw him briefly at Veronica’s wedding. His hair was completely grey now, prematurely, she thought. He was thirty-nine. His grey eyes looked wearier, harder than she remembered, framed by lines that weren't there before. His body leaner, as though he didn't eat enough. He exuded solid strength though, despite the lean frame.
"Jay," she whispered, tears filling her eyes.