Page 11 of Gold Mine (The Diamond Trilogy 2)
“He’s not.”
“Violence runs in families. Does yours have a history of that?”
He gives a short laugh. “You could say that.”
The dark shadow of addiction gives me a little wave, and I resolutely ignore it. “I know I’m being insistent, but it’s my sister we’re talking about here. I love her. She takes care of me. I wish I could take care of her, too.”
It’s hard to tell in the shadows but it’s possible his green eyes soften. “We’ll reach our destination in an hour and a half. You can ascertain her safety then.”
“Ascertain,” I say, drawing out the word. “Ascertain. It sounds so formal.”
“Determine. Verify.”
“Still formal. Are you always this uptight, or is it because you’re on a kidnapping mission?”
“We weren’t kidnapping you. We rescued you.”
“Oh, and I suppose if we had wanted to wander back into the party, have another glass of champagne, dance a little, that would have been just fine with Elijah.”
Nothing.
“For what it’s worth, I think you’re always this uptight.”
“We’re operating in a gray area,” he admits. “Private security frequently operates in a gray area. Stalkers we subdue to protect the client. A thief we escort into the police station.”
“Not this gray, though. This is like dark, dark gray.” Like Adam’s eyes. Like the hulking mass of shadows that represents every dark impulse that threatens to destroy me.
“Yes, but in the same way that you want to protect your sister, I want to protect my brother. Even if the danger is coming from himself and his infatuation with—”
I huff a laugh. “Infatuation? Is that what they’re calling it these days?”
“What would you call it?”
“Lust. He wants to fuck her.” I use the word deliberately, but of course an ex-military man doesn’t even flinch at the word. “And once he’s had his fill, he’ll leave.”
“Maybe.”
“Definitely.”
“What about you? Do you have an infatuation?”
“I’m in love.”
It’s startling to hear those words from a man so thoroughly masculine and hard lined. I would have expected him to spit nails and break a crowbar in half before ever admitting them. “Let me guess. Your high school sweetheart. You have two point five kids and a minivan.”
“Not exactly.”
I glance out the window where rows of orange trees pass like flipping through cards in a deck. “Well, we have one and a half hours until we reach our destination,” I say, mimicking his low voice. “Plenty of time for you to tell me how it is.”
“She was my ward. My daughter, according to the state. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t her biological father. I swore that I would protect her at any cost.”
That makes me lean forward. “This got interesting.”
“I noticed her before she turned eighteen.” A hard laugh. “To my shame. And then she turned eighteen and noticed me back. I fought the pull but it was inevitable.”
“And Elijah has met this girl?”
He nods. “He’s been working for my company while he looked for Holly. He’s a great agent when he’s not distracted by a woman. A real asset to the company.”
“That’s not my relationship with Holl. We’re not an asset-to-company kind of family.”
His lips curve in a half smile. “I won’t make any claims about us being a healthy family that people should emulate. Most of the time, we’re just getting by. You hit the nail on the head about having a history of violence. But Elijah won’t ever hurt Holly. You have my word.”
“How can you promise something like that?”
“It’s a pact we have. All three of us agreed to it. If any of us turn into our father, the other ones will put him down. Like a rabid dog.”
A chill runs over my skin, and I curl my legs onto the seat. Possibly this talking thing wasn’t such a good idea. Like a rabid dog. No, their family is nothing like ours.
It makes me wonder how Holly relates to Elijah. They come from different worlds.
Then again, if it’s only sex, they don’t need to relate.
Maybe Elijah isn’t the only one who needs to get it out of his system. Maybe Holly does, too. The fact is, she’d looked very relieved to see him. This might have started as a kidnapping mission, but Holly had also wanted to be kidnapped.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Holly
I have vague memories of falling asleep. My head bumped against the interior of the SUV as we bounced along mountain roads until someone pulled me against his chest. Those same arms lifted me in the night air, and I glimpsed a thousand tiny stars in a black sky. I smelled lemons as he laid me down on something soft. And then I drifted away.
When I wake up, it feels like an eternity has passed.
Sunlight casts a serene glow on the white sheets. I stretch and feel more rested than I have in months. In more than a year, actually. I haven’t gotten a sleep like this since I was in my loft in Manhattan. Before I flew to Paris. Before I was kidnapped by Adam.
