Branded (Strand Brothers Series Book 1) Page 2

  Chapter One

  Aimee

  Five years later.

  Talk about a rock and a hard place. How had my life come down to this? I grabbed the note I received yesterday and, once again, read the ominous threat any fool could see.

  Aimee darling,

  You will agree to be my wife this evening at six o’clock sharp! I will neither accept any delays nor will I put up with you running away from me again. Now that I have your full and undivided attention you will do the following:

  Cancel your airline ticket for San Francisco.

  Explain to Renée you’ve changed your mind.

  Call your parents and give them the good news.

  Meet me at the Delmont to greet my constituents. This will be where we make our wonderful announcement.

  Yours always,

  —C

  Damn the man! There was no use taking this note to the police. One, the threat was not spelled out. And two, half of the force was in cahoots with the senator. Well, crap! This was just one huge clusterfuck of epic proportions. Would he hurt someone I loved? More than likely. Not that I thought any of them were in physical danger, per se. But he could make their lives a living hell if he chose. Could he destroy my plans for the future? Without a doubt. Had I overlooked some obvious solution to this nightmare? That’d be a no. I groaned loudly and rubbed my face with my hands. Never in a million years did I want to be tied to such a horrid man. Why I ever got involved in the first place still baffled me. I knew why actually but was ashamed to admit it—even to myself. How stupid. I’d made my bed, so fate deciding I needed to lie in it really shouldn’t shock me. I couldn’t just sit here and sulk. Right now, I needed my best friend. Maybe she’d have some insight into this debacle. If you want to get down to the bare bones of the situation at hand, Renée was truly at the center of it all. No, in truth, that wasn’t quite fair—I’d made the decision. She was only responsible for offering me a solution to my financial woes. Ah, hell. I need out of my head for a few minutes. With any luck, together we could figure out a way for me to be free of Senator Caleb Reynolds. I threw the note in my purse and then walked out of my apartment with purpose. Come hell or high water, I was not marrying that man!

  *****

  Renée opened the door, took one good hard look at me, blew out an exasperated breath and asked, “What’d he do now? I thought you told him to pound salt.”

  I shook my head. “I’ve done everything I can think of to make it clear I don’t wanna marry him. Yet he still insists. And now this…” I handed her the note before I sat down heavily on her couch. “You tell me, what more I can do?”

  “Shit.”

  That truly did sum it up. “Got that right.” I buried my face in my hands. At this point, crying and/or screaming didn’t seem like enough. So when I began to laugh manically, it shouldn’t have surprised me.

  Renée more than understood me. She wrapped her arm around my shoulders and stated, “The man is freakin’ delusional.”

  One of the things I loved most about my best friend was her ability to hit the nail right on the head. I was finally able to squelch the uncontrollable laughter. “I’m open to suggestions.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t have any.”

  “Great. So what’re you saying, I have to marry the asshole?”

  She stood and began to pace. “What the hell is his game, anyway? I mean, you’ve told him no for the past three months now. Yet he continues. This little gem”—she held up the note for emphasis—“is just asinine.”

  I couldn’t agree more. Still, there didn’t appear to be any solution. Sure, I could once again refuse; however, my gut told me he would make good on his warning. Not one single person I cared about was safe from his powerful reach, which meant he had me—there was not a damn thing I could foresee that’d stop him. My eyes began to burn with the tears I’d attempted to tamp down.

  Renée looked over at me and comforted, “Oh, hey, none of that. The dickhead just isn’t worth it.”

  I really did try to smile, but my mouth just wouldn’t cooperate.

  She knelt in front of me and held my hands in hers. “Listen. Go ahead with this thing tonight.” I gasped as my eyes widened. She continued, “Shh, girlfriend. I didn’t say you were going through with it. I’m simply saying, for tonight appease him. In the mean time, I’ll do a little investigating. Maybe there’s something we can find on him, so you can flip the tables.”

  I nodded. Because, at that moment, words just wouldn’t come.

  She tried to make light of things. “Wear that awesome silver cocktail dress with the shimmer-y Jimmy Choo’s. At least that way, all eyes will be on you the entire night.”

  While I rolled my eyes at her, I queried, “What good will that do?”

  Her face was fierce when she replied, “He won’t be able to lay a finger on you.”

  It was a valid point. In the year that I’d been involved with Caleb, he’d threatened to strike me more than once. But he never followed through. Although I began to realize, pushing him too far might have dire results. And like I said before, he was well connected. Not that I was making any excuses for his behavior, but, the fact remained, in my business getting knocked around really was nothing new. All any of my clients had to say was: “I got a little rough during sex, and she enjoyed it.”

  I sighed heavily. Never did I think I would become a high-priced call girl. Really? What little girl dreamt of such a thing? When I started five years ago, it was going to be short term—and I was only going to escort. Yeah, right. Let’s face it; the money was too good to walk away from, not to mention my parents really needed the financial help that I had no other way of obtaining. My only true hang-up was that I in no way wanted to be with married men. I learned quickly I didn’t have to be, and, well, as the saying goes, “When in Rome…” Yep, I’ve made a huge mess out of my life. Where did all of my hopes and dreams go? Oh, hell, no! I refuse to go down that road. What’s done is done. Time to pull up my big girl panties and face the big, bad wolf. Um…maybe a red dress would be much more appropriate for this evening. I inwardly chuckled.

  Renée stood and walked into the kitchen. A couple minutes later, she returned with a shot of whiskey. “Here’s to liquid courage.”

  I raised my glass and affirmed, “Hear, hear.” In one gulp, my glass was empty. “Thanks for trying to help me out, Ren. I do love you.”

  “Yeah. Yeah. What’s not to love?” She preened. Her face became serious when she said, “We’ll figure this out, Aims. Don’t worry about tonight. You’ll be fine, I promise.”

  My lips curved up slightly. “From your lips to God’s ears. I’ll text you when I get home. If you don’t hear from me, call in reinforcements.”

  When you were in the kind of business we were in, you had to have someone looking out for you. Renée and I had been each other’s safe call since college. I knew if she needed to, Blade would be brought in. The fact that he was Renée’s brother helped immensely. What didn’t help was that he was a mean son-of-a-bitch. You did not want to piss that man off. His name said it all. It was his gang name, and he still lived up to the rep. He scared the living daylights out of me; however, the knowledge that he’d take care of whatever or whomever we needed him to was comforting.

  *****

  I arrived at the Delmont around five thirty that evening. Caleb spotted me instantly. I was swept into his side tightly before I said, “Hello.” By the feel of his tense body, I knew this would be a night to tread lightly. He was in no mood to hear the word no. Quite frankly, I was in no mood to fight with him. My decision to be subservient tonight would serve me well. I’d obviously learned a few tricks of the trade—so to speak—when to take the upper hand with a man and when to speak only when spoken to.

  Once he finished his conversation with one of his cronies, he turned to me. “You will obey me, Aimee,” he ordered. “I’ll be damned if you refuse me publicly. Are we clear?”

  I kept my eyes on the floor and so
ftly answered, “Yes, sir.”

  While he stroked my back, he praised, “Good girl.”

  I mentally rolled my eyes at him and then flipped him the bird. Please! BDSM was not my thing or his either. He just liked control of any and every situation. I honestly had no problems with that. I was drawn to commanding men, as well as gorgeous ones. Once you got past the whole “do as I say or else” persona, you realized he was quite charming. With his dark brown hair and chocolate eyes, plus, his lean, athletic build, you had yourself one nice piece of man candy. He ought to come with a warning to all ladies: Look out! No wonder the man held a seat in the senate at the tender age of thirty-eight. He had a charisma that drew you in. There really wasn’t a woman who could resist his thousand-watt smile. Even I had fallen victim, until he slowly began to reveal his true self. Now, the man gave me the heebie-jeebies. Something was off. But after a year, I still couldn’t figure out what it was.

  By six the party was in full swing, with Caleb and me taking center stage. In true Caleb fashion, he commanded the crowd. After his spiel, he got down on one knee. “Aimee, my dear, you are my light. I cannot imagine another day without you being my wife.” He held my hand a little too tightly as he popped the question: “Would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

  There were “ooohs” and “aaahs” throughout the room. For full effect, a single tear ran down Caleb’s cheek. Oh, please! I had to hand it to him, he was good. My bottom lip trembled out shear terror, albeit the effect was magnificent. Even Caleb thought it was from the proposal. I quietly answered, “Yes.” When he dipped me over his arm and kissed me, I was more than surprised. There was triumph in his eyes once he pulled away. This was definitely an oh, shit moment. How would I get out from under this train wreck? I felt like a wild animal that had just been trapped. As cold sweat trickled down my spine, I chanted to myself: I will not pass out. I will not pass out. Nothing helped. Once we were off stage, I politely excused myself. “I need to use the powder room. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  I turned to walk away when his firm hand landed on my shoulder. “No tricks, Aimee,” he warned. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

  As I tried my best to smile, I fought off a cringe. “Of course, darling,” I said in a saccharine tone. Meanwhile my brain screamed, “Run! Tell him to take a flying leap and run like hell.” If only, that was even a possibility.

  Once I rounded the corner, my pace quickened. I was nearly sprinting towards the ladies’ room when—bam—I ran into a wall of muscle. Crap! It’s probably one of his damn henchmen. I looked up and up and up through my eyelashes. Finally, I saw the face of the giant I’d bumped into. My goodness, he was freaking gorgeous! He was not only tall but big all over. I was thoroughly convinced that shoulders like his belonged on a football field, not in a hotel corridor. His massive hand came up to steady me so I wouldn’t fall on my butt. There was a rough, raspy sound. “Are you all right?”

  Oh my! The sound was his sexy as hell voice. I stammered, “Um…yes. Yes, I’m alright.”

  His lips curved up slightly on one side. “You seem to be in a hurry.”

  Wow. That hint of an accent of his was unbelievable. I smiled, “Just need to pee.” OMG. Did I just say that?! The odds of me saying anything intelligible around this man were slim to none. “I’m s-sorry. I can’t believe I just said that.”

  He chuckled low in his throat. I swear if he did that one more time, I would have an orgasm. “No need for apologies,” he countered. “When you have to go, you have to go.” He motioned with his hand towards the restrooms. “Please, don’t let me keep you.”

  “Right. Excuse me.”

  I darted into the ladies room and then leaned against the wall. I just met a god. And I needed to hurry, because I really wanted to talk to him some more. Fact was, I actually did need to pee. Ironic. Once I had myself put to rights, I walked back into the hallway where Thor was glaring at my intended. Oh, just shoot me now. They appeared to know one another, nonetheless their voices were terse, and the tension was thick between them. For whatever reason, I stepped in the middle. But I wasn’t there more than a moment. Caleb yanked me to his side with enough force to knock me off balance. And that was when the heel on my brand-new, lace-up Jimmy Choo’s snapped. I shoved him with both hands. “What the hell, Caleb?”

  He squeezed my upper arm so tight I knew I’d have a bruise. At that moment, I caught a movement out of my peripheral vision. A fist came back, and I knew what was about to happen. Or, so I thought. Before Thor could make contact, four huge secret service men were on him. Caleb shoved me into action, pushing me up the hallway while I struggled to help my rescuer. I filled my lungs with air to scream, but Caleb’s hand was quicker—clamping over my mouth so snug breathing became difficult.

  He roughly shoved me inside a room, all the while I struggled for air. I fell to my hands and knees, gasping. My lungs burned. And it took me a few moments to catch my breath. Then, I heard the door lock. I looked up from under my hair and saw Caleb had drawn his foot back to kick me. I quickly rolled out of his way, which only managed to piss him off more. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what he was doing. I mean, yes, he had threatened to hit me before, but never had he followed through with it. My gut told me that was not the case this time. I beseeched, “Please, Caleb. I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever you say.”

  He twisted my hair around his fist. “You’re damn right you’ll do what I say.” He unfastened his slacks and slid them along with his boxers to his knees. “Open your mouth,” he commanded.

  I was complying when the door flew in with a loud thud. And there stood, in all of his muscular glory, my protector. Caleb fumbled to pull up his pants, but he wasn’t quick enough. Thor landed a roundhouse kick to his solar plexus, followed by a dead-on right hook to his jaw that sent him a good two feet across the floor. He sprawled face down with his pants still around his ankles so his ass was bare for all to see. Under different circumstances, it would’ve been funny. A large hand gently reached under my arm to help me up. As I stood, the once beautiful, red chiffon tiered dress slid off my shoulder where the strap had been torn. Uh…when’d that happen? I tried to at least keep my breast covered. All of a sudden, an extremely large suit coat was placed around my shoulders. Thor’s finger grazed tenderly under my chin to raise my face up so our eyes met. As a tear escaped, I murmured, “Thank you.”

  The pad of his thumb caught it. “Hey, now,” he comforted, “It’s okay. I’ll take care of you.” With that vow, I was tucked safely under his arm.

  As we left the room, the secret service guys arrived. One of them asked, “Mr. Strand?” Thor tilted his head over his shoulder and commanded, “Take care of that.”

  *****

  I was quickly taken to a limo where my protector steadily assisted me into the back. We sat in silence for most of the drive. While I appreciated the quiet so I could pull myself together, I needed to text Renée. “Do you have a cell phone I can use?”

  “Sure.” He handed me his phone. As I began to type my message, I inquired, “Where are you taking me?”

  “My place,” he replied.

  My text read: I’m safe. Not home. Will explain tomorrow. A.

  Since I wasn’t using my cell, I hoped she realized it was me. I passed the phone back over to him when it vibrated with a text. He read what was on the screen aloud: “Where’s your cell? No worries. Talk to ya later.” He quirked a brow at me. “Did you want to answer the question?”

  I shook my head. “She knows I’m okay.” I affirmed, “That’s all that matters.”

  “Indeed.”

  I glanced back over at him. “What’s your name?”

  He reached over and placed his hand on mine. “Nik.”

  Puzzled, for a moment, I tried to figure out how I knew that name, and then it hit me. “As in business mogul, ex-heavyweight UFC champion, Nik Strand?” I could hear the awe in my voice. Did he?

  He inclined his head. “Yes.”

  Hol
y crap! I turned my hand so I could lace my fingers with his. “I’m Aimee Taylor.”

  He chuckled low and squeezed our hands together. “Nice to meet you, Aimee.”

  Chapter Two

  Aimee

  There was no rhyme or reason as to why this man felt so familiar to me. As we walked into his penthouse, I studied his face. His bone structure would make a sculptor cry with joy, but I knew I’d never seen him before tonight. Or, had I? That was the confusing part of it all. Also, it didn’t escape my notice he was inspecting me as well. So I shouldn’t have been surprised by the extraordinary heat that passed between us when he placed his hand on the small of my back to lead me further into the room. I’d felt the waves of attraction before, but this was more—as if my body recognized his. Where did I know him from? I mean, sure, everybody knew who he was. Still, there was something else I couldn’t put my finger on.

  He stepped away, and, for some unknown reason, I felt bereft. He offered, “Would you like something to drink?”

  Ah, I could orgasm from his voice—which was laced with a barely there accent—alone if he kept talking. Again, there was a hint of familiarity I couldn’t quite place. I replied, “I’d love a brandy.”

  He approached the sideboard and prepared my drink. The man was sheer perfection—all sharp lines and hard muscle, not to mention huge. He must still work out a lot for his body to look like that. My fingers itched to run through his glorious mane, which was at least six shades of blond. Women paid a high price for hair like his. When he returned to sit next to me, I got my first good look into his eyes. My goodness, they were glacial blue, intense and shrewd. Reality hit, this was a man who got exactly what he wanted when he wanted it. No questions asked. Hmm…I’d only ever seen irises like his once before. Interesting.