Red Handed
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Epilogue
An Excerpt from White Collared Part One: Mercy
Chapter One
Chapter Two
About the Author
By Shelly Bell
An Excerpt from When Good Earls Go Bad by Megan Frampton
An Excerpt from The Wedding Band by Cara Connelly
An Excerpt from Riot by Jamie Shaw
An Excerpt from Only In My Dreams by Darcy Burke
An Excerpt from Sinful Rewards 1 by Cynthia Sax
An Excerpt from Tempt the Night by Dixie Lee Brown
Copyright
About the Publisher
Chapter One
TICK-TOCK. TICK-TOCK.
With the loaded Glock in his hand, he leaned on the doorframe and watched her sleep.
So innocent.
So pure.
He doubted her ability to carry out this mission, but they had no choice.
In a room decorated with framed Degas prints, Danielle Walker lay on her king-sized sleigh bed, tangled in her silk sheets. Her window was open, paving the way for the moonlight to illuminate her creamy skin and the desert breeze to caress her flesh.
His fingers itched to do the same.
She wasn’t his normal type. He preferred his whores thin, blonde, and tan like the California girls he’d heard sung about on the radio as a child. Although Danielle had lost weight this past year, she was still soft and curvy. He’d studied each and every photograph his man had taken of her over the last few months, especially the ones of her sunbathing naked by the pool in her backyard. He wanted her, and damned if he would allow anyone to stop him from having her.
A sigh passed her plump lips, and she rubbed her thighs together as if inviting him to her bed.
He checked his watch and peered down the hall.
Perhaps he had time to accept her invitation.
He crossed the room and settled on the edge of her mattress, inhaling the faint scent of lilacs. His dick hardened as he traced her raven hairline with the muzzle of his gun. She stirred and licked her lips before opening her sleepy brown eyes.
It only took a moment for those eyes to widen into terror.
Before she could scream, he covered her mouth with his gloved hand and waved the gun in front of her beautifully frightened face.
Not that it mattered if she did scream. No one would help her.
“Stay quiet, Danielle, and I promise no harm will come to you.” The whispered lie spilled effortlessly from his lips.
True, no harm would befall her tonight, but the countdown to the end of her life had begun years ago.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
She nodded as she stared at his masked face, no doubt trying to identify him. Between the mask, dark paint covering the skin underneath, and colored lenses, he could be her father come back from the dead for all she could discern. He leaned closer, trailing his gun down the length of her neck.
The echoing boom of a gunshot fired down the hall pierced the silence of Danielle’s room. She startled, her body convulsing in fear and tears spilling down her face. She shouted beneath his gloved hand.
Damn it, he’d lost his chance.
Oh well. He’d take her after she finished her assignment—after she became just another whore . . .
Right before he killed her. His associates had ordered an efficient execution-style gunshot to the head, but after they got what they wanted, did it matter if he tortured her a bit before he ended her life? How could he resist such a sweet temptation?
“Stop yelling or next time my men will shoot your stepmother. That was merely a warning to let her know we mean business.” When she quieted, he removed the hand from her mouth and patted her cheek, his gaze trained on her cleavage and the Tiffany sterling silver heart key locket that she always wore around her neck. “I’ll prove to you she’s alive and well. Come with me to her bedroom.”
After slipping his gun into the holster at his waist, he grabbed her hand and pulled her out of bed. Thankfully, she allowed him to lead her down the hall to Tasha’s room. He couldn’t afford to bruise her. Yet.
The scene came into view. His three men had done their job. Bound and gagged, Tasha lay on the carpet, helpless in a shimmering silver peignoir set, a rivulet of blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.
On a sob, Danielle bolted for her stepmother. He stopped her at the entryway of the bedroom and gripped her by the shoulders, forcing her to stay in place.
“Now be a good girl and listen. There’s something I want, and only you can get it for me. Until you do, I’m taking Tasha as collateral.” He slid his hand into the pocket of his black leather jacket and pulled out the papers. “This is a plane ticket and your instructions. By your home’s front door, you’ll find a suitcase packed with everything you’ll need.” He checked his watch and nodded to his men. The strongest of them scooped Tasha off the floor and hoisted her over his shoulder as if she were a sack of potatoes.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
“I don’t understand,” Danielle whispered. “Why me?”
He spun her around and yanked her down the hall back to her bedroom. “The only thing you need to understand is Tasha will die if you fail. And don’t even think about calling the police.” He pushed her on the bed. “If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll not only kill her, I’ll torture her first.”
Taking Tasha with them, his men strode down the hall and down the staircase.
Time to go before the police arrived.
“Your plane leaves in five hours. I suggest you make the best of the situation and enjoy yourself.”
Surprising him, she began laughing. “Enjoy myself? How the hell am I supposed to enjoy myself while my stepmother’s life is being threatened?”
His dick swelled at the thought of how Danielle would spend her days and nights. He couldn’t wait until he’d force her to bargain for her life by demonstrating her newly acquired skills on him.
He motioned to the papers in her hands. “Your application has been approved. Congratulations, you are Benediction’s newest sex slave trainee.”
Just as he’d expected, all humor disappeared from her face.
His watch beeped. “When the police arrive in one minute, you’ll tell them you triggered the alarm accidentally. Remember, we’ll be watching you. The clock is ticking, Danielle. You have a week to get me what I want.”
Thirty seconds later, he disappeared into the quiet night, praying Danielle would get the job done.
For all their sakes.
Chapter Two
IN ALL THE years Danielle Walker had waited to officially meet Cole DeMarco, she’d never imagined standing in front of his home,
half-naked under a mink coat in the middle of a Michigan blizzard. Fat snowflakes fell from the dark gray sky and swirled around her as though she’d shaken up one of those snow globes she’d collected as a child.
If she were smart, she’d take it as a sign to get the hell out of there and return to sunny Arizona, where she could wear full-size panties underneath her skirt. Despite the kidnapper’s threats, she should’ve gone to the FBI.
But smart wouldn’t get her the answers she needed to lay the past to rest.
Smart wouldn’t save her stepmother, Tasha. Although Danielle and she hadn’t always been close, she was grateful to her for the companionship she’d given her father and admired the numerous hours Tasha spent fundraising for charity. She and her son, Roman, were the only family Danielle had left, and she’d do anything to keep them safe.
Thank goodness Roman was currently in Russia on business. As her best friend, he’d know the minute he saw Danielle’s face that there was something wrong. The warning that she not tell anyone about the kidnapping remained in the forefront of her mind.
As the taxi that brought her here drove away, she licked the melted snow off her lips and climbed the steps of the porch to the sprawling stone mansion known to insiders as the sex club, Benediction.
A nervous bubble tickled her belly. If anyone back home heard that she was about to become a sex slave for a billionaire recluse, they’d never believe it.
She could hardly believe it.
Yet here she was—in her Prada heels and little else—about to allow the man who’d destroyed her family to see her naked. To command her as though she were a toy existing only for his pleasure and use her body to slake his deviant lusts.
Tasha had told her all about the man who’d helped send her father to prison on charges of embezzlement and fraud. She’d warned her to stay as far away from him as she could. And despite Danielle’s curiosity about the handsome man she’d spied on in her youth, she’d listened.
The wind whistled and whipped snow at her back. She had just lifted her fist to knock on the solid walnut door when it opened, and the air inside blasted her with its inviting warmth. A gorgeous blond-haired man no more than thirty years old smiled at her in greeting.
He wore black slacks, a black tie, and a silver vest over a white dress shirt, a variation on the conservative butler uniform. But oddly, his feet were bare.
She’d grown up in a mansion. All her childhood friends were raised in mansions. She’d seen her share of butlers throughout her lifetime. Not a single one looked like him.
Her gaze traveled up his body and stopped on the impressive bulge.
His laughter broke her out of her trance. She snapped up her head, embarrassment heating her cheeks.
Smoothing her hands over the soft fur of her coat, she stepped inside the entrance and glanced around the room, noting the hanging crystal chandelier and built-in desk with a coatroom behind it. If she hadn’t known this was a house, she’d think she’d walked into a five-star restaurant.
“Welcome to Benediction, Danielle. I’m Adrian.” He swiped his hand over his erection. “And yes, I’m proud to say it’s all mine. Master Cole has decided to torture me today with a cock ring . . . ” His gaze flicked up to a discreet video camera in the corner of the entryway. “Which I accept with most humble gratitude.” He mumbled a litany of profanity under his breath. “He’s waiting for you in his office. May I take your coat?”
She opened her mouth, and all that came out was a squeak.
He waited for her to respond, and when she stood there frozen, unable to move or talk, he arched a brow. “You are Danielle Walker, right?”
She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded, her long dark hair falling in front of her eyes.
He shook his head, his lips curved in what she guessed was amusement. “Guess you can keep your coat and come with me.” He pivoted and sauntered across the foyer.
A small gasp flew from her lungs. Adrian’s slacks were cut in the back, exposing his perfectly toned bare ass with what looked like a humongous fake diamond wedged between the cheeks.
He stopped at another door and glanced at her over his shoulder. She jerked her head toward the camera in the corner, hoping Adrian wouldn’t notice her embarrassment. From the corner of her eye, she caught the shake of his shoulders and realized he was laughing at her again.
She pressed her lips together and straightened her spine. If the sight of a man’s naked behind shocked her, how would she ever get through the next week?
Since the day of her father’s suicide in prison, she’d thought about what she’d do to Cole DeMarco when she finally got her chance. But now that she was here, instead of slapping him hard across his face and calling him out as the murderer he was, she would beg him to train her as a sex slave.
Adrian led her through a doorway into an ordinary Grecian-style mansion, complete with pillars and vaulted ceilings.
As she followed the blond Adonis past a sunken living room similar to the one in her home back in Arizona, she was surprised by the mixture of relief and disappointment racing through her. For some reason, she’d expected to see sex at a sex club. But the place was quiet and empty.
The butler continued down to the end of the hallway, where he stopped in front of a closed door and knocked.
Her heart pounded so loudly, she was sure Adrian could hear. She felt as though she was a gladiator facing her first battle with a lion in the Colosseum arena.
“Come in, Danielle,” said a voice as smooth as Glenlivet and just as heady. A shiver raced from her head to her feet, hardening her nipples and waking the nerve endings between her thighs. It had been years since she’d heard that voice, and despite it belonging to her dangerous adversary, her body reacted exactly the same. As if he’d placed his hands on her skin and caressed her naked flesh, not sparing an inch.
Adrian motioned with a wave of his arm for her to enter first. Somehow, she managed to put one foot in front of the other until she stood inside Cole DeMarco’s lair. Its chocolate walls, the walnut furniture, and the flickering flames coming from the fireplace gave the first impression of a homey, comfortable room similar to her father’s before the FBI had raided it and cleaned it bare.
Her gaze fell on the man who’d haunted her in dreams and tormented her in nightmares. He didn’t get up to greet her. Didn’t welcome her with a smile.
From behind his desk, he sat tall in his chair, his muscular, tattooed arms folded in front of him. His brown eyes narrowed, and he scowled at her.
Her swallow caught in her throat. What could she possibly have done to anger him? She’d only just arrived. Besides, she never elicited a strong reaction out of anyone. She usually faded into the shadows.
He glared at her, a muscle twitching in his left cheek. Then his gaze jumped to the man standing behind her, leaving her feeling as if he’d found her wanting. “Adrian, wait outside my office.” He spoke softly, his voice holding none of the anger he’d directed toward her. “Sedona and Lily, I believe you’re wanted in the kitchen. Thank you both for your services.”
From behind the desk, two naked women suddenly popped up onto their feet, thin, red streaks marking their perky breasts and firm abdomens. Something sour burned in Danielle’s belly. Something bitter and twisted.
These were the type of women Cole preferred.
The women bowed their blonde heads. In unison, they turned from Cole and strolled toward the exit. As they moved past her, they each gave a quizzical raise of their brow, as if questioning her presence.
The door shut with a gentle click, leaving her alone with a monster. Although the room was warm, she shivered.
He leveled his stare on her. “Are you cold?”
His simple black T-shirt stretched tight over a broad chest, each inhalation giving her a glimpse of the muscles underneath. He’d shaved his head clean and grown a short goatee, hiding the dimple in his chin she’d adored from afar as a teenager. He looked even better than she’d remembered and
every bit as dangerous.
He gave no indication of remembering her. True, she’d lost more than fifty pounds since she was seventeen, but how could he not recognize her?
She realized she was biting her fingernail and took it out of her mouth. “No. Why?”
Glowering, he pushed his chair back and stood, drawing her attention to the fly of his army green cargo pants. She blew out a breath, relieved that not only was he wearing pants, but also that they were zipped. After discovering women on their knees with him, she hadn’t known what to expect.
All six feet plus of him stomped around to the front of his desk, motioning at her with a wave of his large hand. “You’re still wearing your coat. I promise no one will steal your mink. I have video cameras set up all around the house. Nothing goes on without my knowledge.”
“You must not trust easily if you require so many cameras.”
He moved close, towering over her, his spicy scent doing something to her body she’d rather it not. Time had been kind to this man, who despite being close to forty, appeared ageless, his skin a smooth and creamy caramel. “The slave trainees live by my rules if they choose to stay in my home, but I’m not a fool. It’s always good to have backup. There are cameras everywhere except for the bathrooms and the slaves’ residence.” He held out his hand. “Now, since you’re not cold, allow me to take your coat. I promise it will stay safe.”
Her reluctance to remove her coat had nothing to do with her fear of theft. She simply wasn’t prepared to reveal her body to him yet. Cole continued to offer his hand, and she had a feeling she didn’t have an option of refusing if she wanted to stay.
Screw want. She needed to stay.
For Tasha.
And for her father.
Steeling herself for his rejection, she slowly unbuttoned her coat, starting at the top and working her way down, one by one until she ran out of buttons . . . and time. Pulling the flaps of her coat open, she exposed her sparsely clad body.
The kidnappers had instructed her to wear the clothes they’d provided. In the airport bathroom, she’d changed out of her conservative slacks and blouse into a black leather corset and a tiny scrap of lacy fabric that was supposed to pass for panties. Prior to an hour ago, she’d never worn either type of underclothes, having always bought comfortable full-size cotton underwear and sensible underwire bras.