“Meat hooks?” He stared. “You, little dove, have an appalling sense of gratitude.”
“Kidnappers are not allowed to critique the manners of their hostages,” she said, looking away, refusing to be made to feel guilty for her brusque brush-off. No one had asked him to climb into her bed just as no one had forced him to hold her hostage. She took no responsibility for his pique. But she had to admit now that her heart rate had slowed to a normal and steady thump, she’d been wildly grateful to feel his solid strength wrapped around her. In that crazy moment between sleep and complete awareness, she’d been instantly soothed by the feel of his arms holding her tight and her fuzzed brain had told her she was safe. Of course, when she’d realized she was in Vince Buchanan’s arms, her scandalized brain had told her something completely different, something along the lines of Run, you stupid idiot! and she’d reacted accordingly. So, why did she feel like such a jerk? She wasn’t the one who was holding a person against their will. “If you have a problem with my attitude you could always just let me go.” At his dark scowl, she exhaled a short, frustrated breath. “Fine. It’s your funeral. I hope you have a great lawyer because I am going to sue the pants off you.” She realized her mistake the second the words flew from her mouth but it was too late to take them back.
Vince’s mouth curved in a sardonically sensual smirk as he said, “I have excellent lawyers — as in plural — and if you were interested in getting me out of my pants, all you had to do was ask.”
“Oh!” Her eyes widened as she scowled. “As if! Get over yourself, Buchanan. The very idea makes me want to vomit.”
If only that were true. Emma hated to admit but the idea had to be somewhere in her subconscious otherwise why would she have such a shameful dream about him? Ugh. Thank God, he couldn’t read minds. Her mortification would burn her alive. But seeing as she doubted he had mind reading capabilities she was happy to cling to outward appearances. He need not know that her dream had featured him and some quite scorching scenes that she didn’t even fully understand but she knew arousal in its most primal form. And everything about Vince was primal male.
She suppressed a shudder but Vince’s quick eye caught the motion. “Do you need more blankets?” he asked brusquely and she nodded, happy to cover her visceral reaction to him and all his overflowing masculinity. He abruptly left and returned, tossing a thick blanket to her. “Thank you,” she said awkwardly, then ventured to ask, “So…do you have any idea when I might get some clothes? Unlike other women in your company, I do not relish the idea of lounging around naked.”
“Your clothes should arrive later today. But if it were my wish for you to remain naked, you certainly would remain so.”
“Is that so?” Oh, the arrogance, she wanted to scream. “And what makes you think you could make me do anything?”
“I can make you do all manner of things,” he said with a shrug, causing her fingers to itch with the desire to lob something heavy and blunt at his thick head. “The key to motivating anyone is finding their currency. Laird told me that you pleaded with him to release you so you could care for your sister.”
“Yes, that’s true,” she agreed cautiously, not trusting where this was going one bit. “And?”
“And I’ve discovered your currency is your sense of responsibility. So, I’ve had Laird go procure your sister.”
What? “What do you mean procure?” She stilled, her brain freezing. “What the hell are you talking about?”
He smiled, slow and deliberate. “I told you, I would find your motivation. You’ve been fighting me tooth and nail since I rescued you, making this situation ten times worse than it needs to be. I need your help in catching whoever did this to you and your sister. You’d think that you’d be more helpful but instead you’ve been an irritating twit and I’ve tired of your games.”
“Games?” she gasped, outrage blotting out her good sense. “How dare you!”
He waved away her outrage and continued. “Your sister is in good hands. Laird will take excellent care of her while you do your best to be accommodating.”
“You can’t do this,” she protested, unable to believe his nerve. “You can’t just go around plucking people off the street to do whatever you want with them. What kind of world do you live in where that’s remotely okay?” She was beginning to shriek but she didn’t care. She hoped his eardrums burst and bled. “I’ll call the cops and then you’ll go to jail, you miserable son-of-a-bitch. My sister has been through an unimaginable trauma because of your club and now you’re going to make it worse!”
“Don’t be so dramatic. Laird seemed quite intrigued by your sister. He’ll treat her like a queen. He loves to pamper and dote on women. But if you continue to stonewall me, I will make your life — and by proxy — your sister’s life very difficult.”
“And how is that?”
Instead of answering right away he said, “It must be a challenge caring for your sister on your meager freelance salary. I would imagine that it’s very important to protect your connections just to make rent every month.” His gaze narrowed to a point and she suffered a very bad feeling in her belly. He was going to blackmail her into helping him. He’d found the perfect way to force her to bow her head and walk ten paces behind him by using Lana against her. Emma began to shake and angry tears threatened to fall but she held them back, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her break. “You’re a smart girl,” he said approvingly. “Good. You can see where this is going, which means I don’t need to spell it out. Fall in line or you’ll find yourself without work for the foreseeable future. No one will cross a Buchanan, not even for a pretty face like yours. So unless you want to find yourself swinging that tight little ass on a stripper pole, you’d better adjust your attitude — quickly — because my patience is shot. Got it?”
She wanted to tell him to go to hell but he had her. Since the incident, Lana hadn’t been able to work. Her sister wasn’t exactly agoraphobic but Lana became extremely agitated around strangers, almost to the point of pure panic if she felt overwhelmed, which had made it impossible to hold down a job. “I need to talk to her,” she said, trying for a brave front. “Lana is…”