Chapter Six

Emma

Rett’s deep voice had my full attention. “I was contacted a while ago, informed of your true identity.”

My head shook. “I’m who I am. Emma O’Brien is my identity.”

“You are correct. However, Miss North, you are more important than that. Your biological father was my father’s greatest adversary. They were each involved in the other’s demise. New Orleans is now mine, and who better to be at my side than the daughter of Isaiah Boudreau?”

Isaiah Boudreau.

I’d never heard that name.

My head shook. “I don’t know him or you.”

Again, Rett traced my lips as his chest flattened my breasts, and his hips pushed closer. “Fight me, Emma. Tell me you don’t want me.”

I pulled against his grip, yet I didn’t have the strength to break it. The undeniable truth, evident by the warmth pooling between my thighs and dampening my panties, my nipples tightening, and my breasts becoming heavy with need, was that I didn’t want to fight.

I wanted him too. Instead of replying, I asked, “Rett, what deal did you make?”

His stare bore into me, heating me from within. The tepid coolness of the air conditioning disappeared as the temperature rose.

“I traded the investment for something I desired more than a piece of an insignificant software program.”

This time I gave it effort, fighting his grip. “Our work is not insignificant.”

Rett’s grin returned, a bit more sinister than before. “Easy, tiger. Do not take offense. You see” —he was still holding my wrists— “...everything is insignificant in comparison.”

“What is this thing of great value that you want?”

“Who.” He leaned down, bringing his firm lips to mine.

I didn’t fight, not to get away.

Maybe I’d been drugged, or perhaps it was Everett Ramses who had me intoxicated. Whatever the case, in his presence I wasn’t thinking straight. As his kiss deepened, the air filled with moans and whimpers.

Were they from me?

I pulled at his grip, wanting my hands free. I needed to touch him as his free hand was touching me, fingers splayed over my back, coming forward and caressing my breasts. Under my top, he tweaked my diamond-hard nipples as energy zapped from his touch to my twisting core.

Multitalented, he was competent in more than caresses as he held me captive. Simultaneously, his tongue teased the seam of my lips. I’d lost the will to protest, opening and welcoming his unique taste, like that of the wine.

Rett pulled away as I gasped for breath. His dark stare focused on mine. “Are you wet, Emma?”

His question seemed too personal, but then again, if I was, he was the cause. “Yes,” I panted.

Releasing my hands, he grinned, taking a step back. “Lift your skirt. I want to see for myself.”

I couldn’t move my gaze away from his even if I wanted it to. “Rett, please.”

His large hand reached for my chin. “Listen carefully, sweet Emma. The deal is done. You’re now mine. As mine, you will be pampered beyond your wildest imagination. The world is yours. I will lay the heads of your enemies at your feet and indulge your every desire. Your one task is to be mine, ready for me and willing to obey whatever I ask.”

My eyes opened wider and my breathing quickened as he continued.

Obey.

Who used words like that in today’s world?

“What…?”

“You will fall to your knees or spread your sexy legs when I command. You will submit to me when and where I want. That is nonnegotiable. And you will do whatever I demand willingly because when you do, you will be rewarded with earthshaking orgasms, the greatest of your life—because I promise that with me, you will come over and over.”

He was wrong. I wasn’t a multiple-orgasm woman. One and done.

“Rett—”

His finger upon my lips again stopped my words.

“There is one more nonnegotiable requirement: you will take my name, marry me.”

My skirt was in my grasp. With each of his declarations, I’d balled the material higher and higher until it was a soft roll above my waist, showing my black lace panties, bare legs, and high heels.

Rett took a step back, scanning the lace. “Touch yourself.”

Heat slid up my neck to my cheeks, no doubt bringing a glow of pink to my skin.

“Oh, my little Emma, now is not the time to be bashful. Did you not hear what I just said?”

Biting my lip, I nodded and peered about.

This dining room was private, but how private?

Before I could voice my concern, Rett continued, his deep voice commanding my attention. “My request is not the issue. It could have been for you to bend over the table, flatten your breasts, and bare your perfect round ass to me. No matter the request, what matters is your immediate obedience. Quite simply put, you will do as I say and be rewarded or hesitate and be punished. I’m not a man who repeats himself.”

I couldn’t describe what had come over me since meeting this man, other than an overwhelming mixture of shock, yearning, and desire. The idea of punishment at his hands didn’t deter me. I wasn’t afraid of him, and yet I had an unmistakable desire to please him.

My hand slid under the waistband of my panties as my legs parted. A small whimper escaped my lips as I found my own damp core.

“Show me.” His tenor had dropped from moments ago, now ladened with the huskiness of lust.

I pulled my hand out of the confines of my panties.

Rett reached for it, lifting my fingers to his lips and sucking. His cheeks rose and a grin formed. “Delicious, as I suspected.”

Before I could form a response, he was kneeling before me, removing my panties as his warm breath skirted my sensitive skin. My gaze darted to the door, afraid the servers would return, when all at once, his mouth covered my core, his teeth nipping my swollen clit and his tongue delving within me.

“Oh,” I cried out, my hands going to his dark hair, weaving my fingers through his mane for support as more sounds and indistinguishable words filled the air. I let out a gust of air as an orgasm threatened to double me forward. Such as a freight train barreling through a dark night, the overwhelming explosion came over me suddenly and without warning.

Though I’d come, Rett didn’t stop. It was clear that he too had been starving, and I was his feast. My mind remembered I didn’t have multiple orgasms, but my body was a different story. Ravenously he nibbled and sucked. His hands held to my behind, pulling me closer.

The second orgasm was stronger than the first.

I called out his name—Rett—this man I barely knew.

My body trembled with the aftershocks as I struggled for breath on weakened knees. Rett stood, allowing my skirt to cascade to my ankles before scooping me into his arms, cradling me against his solid chest, and taking me back to the chair where I had been seated. When our eyes met, I bashfully asked, “My panties?”

“No. I want you bare and available to me at all times.”

I nodded.

It wasn’t a confirmation of my acceptance as much as my acknowledgment that he’d spoken.

With a chaste kiss, one that left my own essence on my lips, Rett pushed the chair back to the table and returned to his seat.

My hands shook as I reached for my glass of wine. The red liquid quivered as I brought the glass to my lips. After consuming a generous portion, I stared beyond the candles to the man now casually dining upon his meal. A forkful of shrimp and an oyster on a cracker—it was as if we hadn’t just…My head shook as I found my voice. “Let me get this straight. Ross made you a deal regarding me?”

“No.”

“No?”

Rett dabbed the napkin at the corner of his lips, the same lips that had just brought me to ecstasy—twice.

“After both an in-depth conversation with your friend and my own diligent research, I contacted Mr. Underwood again and offered him a deal he couldn’t refuse.”

My head shook. “You can’t make deals regarding people. It doesn’t work like that.”

Amusement again danced in his dark orbs. “My dear, the deal is done.”

“Why do you think I’d go along with this?”

Lowering his fork to the plate before him, Rett sat taller and took a breath. “You are a marked woman.”

I had to wonder if he was referring to what we’d just done.

Everett Ramses went on. “Your brother wants you dead.”

I sat straighter. “Kyle died in the accident with our parents. He’s been gone for over four years.”

“No, my dear, Kyle O’Brien is very much alive. He’s bided his time and now believes he can claim New Orleans. However, to achieve his goal, he must overcome two obstacles.”

“Two?”

“Me,” Rett said, leaning back in his throne-like chair and reaching for the arms, “and you.”

“What do I have to do with any of this?”

“Kyle, your adopted brother, is claiming that his stake to the city rests on the notion that he is the child Jezebel North gave up. You see, he’s proclaiming that he is the true heir of Isaiah Boudreau.”

The reality of Rett’s words settled around me in a fog.

“My brother is alive and wants me dead?”

“He knows you’re here, in New Orleans.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you will stay with me. I will protect you, and once you’re legally Emma Ramses, you will be untouchable.”

I stood, no longer able to sit still. Cool air flowed under my skirt, a reminder I was nude beneath.

“This is ludicrous. I should just go back to Pittsburgh.”

“No,” Rett said definitively. “I have had you under protection there since I first learned.”

“There were people watching me?”

“That is done. Your home is in New Orleans.”

My hands went out, coming back to slap my thighs. “And do what, Rett? My life is in Pittsburgh.”

“Your education and dream is to be a writer. There is no better place in the world than here, but most importantly, you will be my wife.” When I didn’t respond, he went on, “I have men waiting to escort us away from this restaurant.”

“Away, to where?” I asked.

“To my home. It’s very safe.”

My gaze darted to the door and back. “And if I say no? If I just leave?”

Rett gestured toward the door. “You won’t, but as you are my future wife, I prefer not to hold you captive against your will.” He shrugged. “I will, but I’d prefer you cooperate.”

I tugged at my lip with my teeth as I contemplated all that had been said. “What will happen if I leave?”

“If you walk through that door alone, you will be vulnerable, not only to Kyle but also to his men. You may succeed in making it to the courtyard or possibly the sidewalk beyond; however, I can unequivocally say that…one more step would mean certain death.”