Seize (St. Martin Family Saga: Emergency Responders) Book 2: Erotic Romance Read online

  He tried to eat, but with every chew his head pounded. He would love to stand under a hot shower.

  He heard the water swish before Mia said, “I need a towel.”

  He held a towel out for her as she backed into it, her skin pink and silky, wet and smooth. Fuck! He needed to keep his head in the game. He shook off thoughts stirred by her before his head exploded.

  “I need to take a shower.”

  She eyed him curiously. “So what’s stopping you?”

  “Quite frankly, you are.” He studied her a moment and then went to his pack and retrieved two pieces of rope. “I need you to sit on the toilet seat.” He collected her clothes and shoved them into his backpack, placing it on the rack above the toilet.

  Then he removed her towel.

  “I wasn’t done with that.”

  “Yes, you were.” He grabbed the other towels and placed them all on the rack in the shower, high above his head.

  “I hate you so very much.”

  He smiled and pointed. “Sit on the toilet.”

  “Why?”

  “Please just do it. My head is pounding, and I’d like to have a shower.”

  Her face softened. “Fine.”

  She sat on the toilet lid, and he tied her wrists.

  “So while I was passed out, they attacked you?”

  “Yeah, I guess they did.”

  “As far as white knights go, I’d rather hoped to get a more official-looking one.”

  He tried to keep his eyes focused on her wrists, but other parts were in his peripheral vision. “Are you questioning my skills?”

  Mocking him further, her nipples hardened before his eyes. He started binding her ankles.

  “I’m not questioning them, I’m stating they’re not very good and this isn’t necessary. I’m not going to leave without my clothes.”

  “Well, if I’m showering, you could easily retrieve your clothes from the rack. Plus I’m not entirely convinced you wouldn’t flee completely naked. You seem like a fighter.”

  “What if I give you my word that I won’t?”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “I don’t even know you.”

  “My thoughts exactly. Your word is of no value to me.” He stood and pulled his shirt over his head. Then he started the water for a shower.

  “Am I supposed to sit here while you do that?” She gestured with her tied hands toward the tub.

  “I won’t take long. And for the record, you can trust me. I’m in law enforcement back home. Sheriff of East Baton Rouge Parish.”

  “That’s very comforting.”

  As he waited for the water to warm, he removed his boots and jeans. Mia watched him. Closely. Trying to hide her body from him—her parts might not be too curvy, but the ones she had worked just fine—she held her knotted hands to her chest. Unfortunately his cock was hard, so he turned his back to her before removing his shorts and cupped himself. He didn’t typically show any modesty, but he’d sensed an air of innocence in her and didn’t want to make her nervous.

  He stepped into the tub and sudsed up. As he washed, he heard Mia clear her throat several times. Heard also one long sigh from the other side of the shower curtain. He stuck his head through the curtain. “You still here?”

  “Hey, watch it! You’re getting me all wet.”

  Back under the pulsing shower head, he made short work of rinsing. He chuckled under his breath as he thought of her sitting on the toilet seat, simmering mad, while she waited for him to untie her. He shut off the water and opened the curtain. He reached for a towel and she turned, her eyes at the level of his crotch. Luckily he wasn’t still hard. She shot up and teeter-tottered before he caught her.

  “Easy does it.”

  “Will you just untie me please!”

  He wrapped the towel around his waist and undid the knots that held her wrists together. Then he worked on the ankle rope until she was free. He unzipped his bag and tossed her clothes at her. She grabbed them and stormed out in a huff and he got a great shot of her ass as she walked away.

  When he came out of the bathroom, she was on the bed, flipping through TV channels and wearing her underwear and shirt. “When can I see my sister?”

  “I have to take care of something before we can leave.”

  “Then I want to call her.”

  “No phones.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s too risky. Too easy to trace.”

  She clicked off the television and groaned. Leaning on one side, she punched a pillow three times and then squished it in her hands. She laid her head on the fluffed mound and closed her eyes.

  She was asleep in no time, and Augie wondered what that felt like. It took him hours to fall asleep, if he even could. He sat in the chair next to the door and rested his head back against the hard edge.

  He heard when she got up and used the bathroom. He heard her pad back to the bedroom, and then he listened harder when she stopped. Pretending to be asleep, he didn’t rise from the chair, but squinted one eye open. She was standing in the center of the room, looking around. She pulled her jeans on, followed by her socks and shoes. Grabbing her purse, she went to the bathroom and shut and locked the door.

  Damn, she was going out the window. He jumped up and into his shoes. He opened the door and jogged around the perimeter to the window that lined up with their room. Not a moment too soon, he thought, as a long denim-clad leg dangled from the window. She continued out until her body straddled the sill, her back to him. Placing her hands between her legs, she managed a pretty decent dismount into his waiting arms.

  She hit with a thud.

  “Howdy.” He smiled down at her.

  She squinted at him and squirmed.

  “I’m not putting you down, so you can stop that.”

  “Let me go!”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  He walked and said, “I made a promise to Eve and Clay.”

  “Who’s Clay?”

  “Clay is the man who loves Eve.”

  Her eyes widened. “Does she love him?”

  “That I wouldn’t know. She’s a woman.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I try to stay out of your heads. Crazy things go on in there.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  He shrugged. “Been called worse.”

  “Will you put me down?”

  “Can’t—you tried to escape. And after giving your word.”

  “You said my word was of no value to you.”

  He cocked his head. “Is that what I said?”

  “I have an excellent memory. It’s exactly what you said.”

  “Huh. Well, that seems to be pretty clear.”

  She scratched at his arms, but he still didn’t let go. He carried her in silence the rest of the way and when he got to the room, he dumped her on the bed.

  She stood on her knees and waved her finger in the air.

  “I’ll have you know I am an upstanding, truthful, and respectful individual. You have no right to judge me or decide what kind of person I am. Had you accepted my word, I would have abided by it.”

  She was really cute as she tried to convince him of her character. Too cute. He wanted to use his charms to soothe her. He imagined how her slim, feminine body would feel in his arms—silky and taut, warm and writhing. He wanted to see if she’d respond as most women did when he dialed up his game.

  *

  His fingers were laced together, his hands on top of his head as he leaned back in the chair, balancing against the door. He just sat and stared into nothing.

  “What are you doing?” Mia demanded.

  “Thinking.”

  “Thinking about what?”

  He smirked. And he looked great doing even that.

  “The plan.”

  When he didn’t divulge more, she turned his smirk back on him. He laughed. And still told her nothing else.

  She gritted her teeth and pol
itely asked, “What plan is that, Augie?”

  “I’ve got a friend coming with a car, and she’s going to see you reunited with your sister.”

  “I’m not getting into a car with some girl I don’t know.”

  “You got into a car with me.” His fingers scratched across his bare chest. His very bare, very chiseled chest.

  “You forced me.”

  “A repeat can be arranged.”

  “I may not look like much, but I can fight a woman. I won’t go with her.”

  “She was special ops—marines—so I think you might just go with her.”

  He infuriated her. She wanted to slap that smug attitude out of him. Pulling her knees to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her legs. “Where is she?”

  “Who?”

  “Evie.”

  “Your sister? She’s in Louisiana.”

  “And you say she met someone.”

  “Yeah, my buddy Clay.”

  “Do you know why those thugs wanted to know where she is?”

  “Those thugs can be traced back to her husband.”

  “To Nicolas?”

  He nodded and resumed his staring.

  “Will you tell me what’s going on?”

  His brow furrowed as he regarded her. “Eve—Evie—left her husband.”

  “Yeah, I got that part. What does that have to do with me?”

  “He wants her back. I’m not sure if he thinks you know where she is, but he does know he can use you in a negative way to pull Eve out of hiding.”

  “Why is she hiding from him?”

  “You don’t know?”

  She shook her head. “We’re not that close. I know they’ve had problems in the past. She came back to Elora once before, but he came and took her back with him to Toronto. After that I didn’t hear from her very often.”

  “He hurt her. Badly. Repeatedly. She had to leave everything behind to get away from him. She had no idea he’d come after you.”

  Her hands cupped her mouth as she thought about how someone could hurt her beautiful, sweet baby sister. “He hurt her?”

  “Yes.” His voice was a whispered rasp.

  “How?”

  “I’m afraid he abused her. Physically, emotionally, sexually.”

  Mia slid down in the bed and with her head on the crisp, cool pillow, she thought of Evie. Tears leaked from her eyes as she thought of how she could have, should have, helped her. Had she only known, she would have fought with her life to save her sister.

  Augie climbed on the bed and took her hands.

  “Hey, she’s safe now. And in love. She’ll have a wonderful life with Clay. She’s going to be fine.”

  He wiped the tears from her face with the pads of his thumbs.

  “Thank you.”

  “She made me memorize something to tell you.” He scratched his head with his thumb. “Uh, let’s see if I can remember …

  “Take the old dog out back, let him run round with the yak—hippity dippity hoppity doppity. Wash your hands and feet, after you eat brush your hair and teeth—jippity pippity joppity poppity.

  “Go to school, make good marks, come home we’ll go for some butter tarts. Yippity nippity yoppity noppity.”

  She stood to her knees and dug her nails into his forearm. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

  He shrugged. “You were in shock; you wouldn’t have listened.”

  “I would have. It’s proof that you were sent by Evie. That was a song our mom made up.”

  “I’m glad that’s settled. Does this mean you’ll trust me now?”

  “Yeah, I trust you.” She looked down at her hands. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for saving my life. I guess I was a little in shock, but thank you. I owe you everything. Truce?”

  She held her hand out, and his warm, masculine hand molded to hers. A tingling started at her fingertips and ran up her arm, down her back, and toward the top of her head. It had her gasping. His eyes narrowed, and he jerked his palm out of hers.

  “What is that song about anyway?”

  She sighed. “My mom sang it to us when we were very young.” Before the family was split apart by divorce. She frowned at the memory of it all. Then she realized he watched her intently.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  She sat back on the bed and he followed. They bunched the pillows behind them.

  “My mom had some mental problems. She went undiagnosed for a while, but her mood swings were hard on the family. My parents split, and Evie went with my father; I stayed with my mother.”

  “Did they go far?”

  “No, actually they lived in the same small town.”

  “I don’t mean to pry, but I did investigate your background. One report listed your mother as an inpatient in a behavioral hospital.”

  Mia’s lips tightened. She didn’t want to talk about this with him. Then, looking down at her hands, she realized he was an answer to one of her prayers. She’d wished for someone to talk to, to confide in, to bounce ideas off of. Someone who wouldn’t judge. So, correction, she did want to talk to him about this. He had a trustworthy face, and she hoped that trust was reflected deep down to his bones.

  “She’s okay, but she was diagnosed with schizophrenia. It’s horrible. She thinks the entire world is out to get her. As far back as I can remember, she suffered from isolation and loneliness, but the last five years have been especially hard. That’s why my dad left with Evie—he couldn’t take it. I wanted to help her. I enrolled in an online university. Took some core courses and then majored in psychology. I never finished because it’s quite expensive and we sort of ran out of extra money after dad died and the hospital isn’t so cheap. I did learn a lot, though, and I tried to counsel her.” She shrugged.

  She expected to see pity in his face, his eyes, but instead she saw something else. Understanding? His eyes simmered, and his mouth was stretched into a slight smile. His gaze was confident on her. Unblinking.

  “You’re very strong. Children shouldn’t have to take care of their parents, yet you did. And successfully, apparently.”

  “I don’t know.” She inhaled through an open mouth. “She’s in that hospital.”

  “She’s getting what she needs. Meanwhile, you sacrificed so much, put your life on hold to see her through the darkness. That’s very selfless of you, Miss Brown.”

  She didn’t know what to say. The need was strong in her to break their gaze because he was reading her soul with those penetrating brown eyes. But she couldn’t break away, the connection was too strong. She’d never had anyone recognize her sacrifices before. Her lips did a slow turn upward, and she couldn’t have done anything to stop them.

  “What?” His eyebrows lifted.

  She shook her head. “I’ve just never spoken about this before. It’s nice to have someone to talk to.”

  “Well, it’s also nice to have an actual conversation with you. I prefer it to I hate you so much and I want to slap you in the face so hard.” They laughed.

  “I volunteer at the grief counseling center. I’ll need to make a call to let them know I’m going to miss my shift.”

  He shook his head. “No phones.”

  “Can I use email?”

  “Do you have a computer?”

  “I meant on the phone.”

  “What part of no phones don’t you get?”

  At her grimace, his eyes pleaded. “These precautions are for your protection and the protection of your sister.”

  “I know. It’s just that if someone in dire straits calls my phone and I’m not there …”

  He steepled his fingers over his chest. “We can go to a public library. You can use a computer to access your email so you can make provisions for the grief center.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled. He really was kind, and she felt at ease around him now. Truth told, she had before. She wouldn’t have undressed in front of him if she hadn’t. But now she had confirmation with the silly nursery rhyme
that he’d taken the time to memorize. She giggled.

  “What?”

  “I can’t believe you memorized that song for me.”

  “I can’t believe I remembered it.”

  Their arms met in the middle of the bed, ever so slightly touching, his warmth seeping from him and into her. It wasn’t the most comfortable way to sleep since she preferred to be on her side, but she was content to remain in that position so she could stay connected to him.

  *

  Mia woke to the sounds of a crunching in her ear.

  “I hope you like doughnuts and”—Augie leaned over and produced a steaming paper cup of coffee—“mocha latte. Girls like that, right?”

  “Absolutely.” She sat up and smiled, and then she laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You have powdered sugar on your nose.” She swiped her finger across the corner of his mouth. “And is that cherry?” She put the finger in her mouth, confirming her suspicions.

  “Yeah, kind of messy to eat.”

  He was blushing as he wiped his face with a napkin.

  “Mmm, I love strudel.” She took a large bite and the warm apple cinnamon filling oozed into her mouth.

  “I was wondering something.”

  She lifted her chin at his serious manner.

  “Evie didn’t mention her mother was in the hospital.”

  “I didn’t tell her.”

  “I gathered. Why?”

  “Evie knows what she knows from my father. Honestly, Dad didn’t believe in mental illness. He thought Mom was being selfish and was lashing out against him because she’d grown to hate him.” She gauged the feedback his body was giving her. He frowned slightly, but she thought it was from curiosity. Or maybe confusion. At least he wasn’t a stone wall like her father with his crossed arms and implacable expressions. Augie seemed open to what she was telling him.

  “The illness is biological; there’s a chemical imbalance in the brain that causes the hallucinations and episodes of psychosis. Medication can level it out.”

  He nodded. “I get it. My mother suffers from anxiety, takes medication for it. We call them her happy pills because she’s so nice after she’s taken one. It’s the only time I ever see her let go of all that she worries about.”

  “Exactly. With schizophrenia, patients are put in a hospital to determine a course of treatment. Certain medications can make the delusions worse, and others can make them go away altogether; it depends on the chemical that needs adjusting. Only way to find out is to try the medications and monitor the patient.”