Corrupted Union: Chapter 11
Her place was smaller than I expected. The girl had grown up with money, so I had no doubt Daddy could have afforded something nicer. The living room was a good size, but the place needed updating and only had one bedroom.
I shouldn’t have been surprised, though. Nothing about Rowan aligned with the stereotypes someone might expect of a woman in her shoes. She fought against her nature, but it was pointless. She couldn’t be a vapid socialite if her life depended upon it. The question was why. Had the Alexanders been such attentive parents that she’d avoided the standard pretty-little-rich-girl pitfalls? Considering how much time and energy her father’s career demanded, that didn’t seem likely.
I’d never been so damn curious about a woman.
She’d nearly given me a stroke when I’d learned what she’d done. Considering the headache I’d gotten, my blood pressure must have been teetering on catastrophic as I raced over to the Wellington house. Even now in the quiet of her apartment, a remnant of my fear kept me tense and unsettled.
The only sense of relief I’d been given was when Rowan finally showed signs of surrender like a porcupine retracting her quills. No matter how brief, I felt that shit down to my soul, and it awakened a hunger for more. I wanted to know the feeling of Rowan standing before me, every goddamn shield at her feet, offering herself to me and only me.
The craving was so insatiable, I followed her inside her apartment when I knew I shouldn’t. My father might have thought a relationship between me and the governor’s daughter was a good thing, but I knew differently. This woman would complicate my life in ways I couldn’t imagine. That was a problem, especially since I wasn’t a fan of relationships. Commitment meant vulnerability and emotion. Those were two things I’d already seen plenty of in my life and had no desire for more.
Yet there I stood, checking out Rowan’s apartment because I couldn’t force myself to leave.
I was in so much damn trouble.
“It’s nothing special, but it works for me,” Rowan said, seemingly conscientious.
“Your father could have afforded something bigger,” I observed.
She shrugged. “Yeah, but there wasn’t a need. It’s just me here.”
My eyes cut to my right, where I could see across a small hallway into the bathroom where a large canvas painting hung over the vanity rather than a mirror. “That some new design trend I’m unaware of?”
Her gaze followed mine, then cut back to me with a touch of challenge. “Not a fan of mirrors.”
Of course, she wasn’t. She probably didn’t like selfies either.
Who the fuck was Rowan Alexander, and why was she so goddamn addicting?
As though squirming away from my scrutiny, she bowed her head and began to dig in her backpack. “I almost forgot. I recorded the girl. She didn’t speak English, so I have no idea what she said, but I figured we could translate. It’s Russian, I think.”
Russian. Hell. That could be totally meaningless or have enormous implications. Why the fuck did Wellington have a Russian captive in his house?
Rowan played back the recording. It was less than a minute long. We used my phone to translate the recording one section at a time. The girl rambled, begging for help, but did give a few tidbits of information. They took her, and then she was with other women in the dark for many days. Had she been trafficked on one of Wellington’s ships? Was he embedded in the skin trade?
Every day that went by, the situation seemed to get worse and worse.
“You’re not going over there again,” I informed her. “In fact, while you’ve got your phone out, text the kid and tell him it’s over. He needs to hear it from you.”
Rowan shot to her feet. “Excuse me?”
The fight in her tone sent my temper soaring. Why would she possibly be defensive about breaking things off with him? “If you think you’re about to argue with me, then save it. There is nothing to discuss.”
“Pardon my impertinence, my liege.” She swept her arms wide with a condescending bow. “I didn’t realize you had rule over my life.”
I prowled forward, just barely keeping my anger in check. “It would seem someone has to since your judgment is questionable.” Each word was clipped and menacing.
Rowan wasn’t the slightest bit affected. I’d seen career criminals piss themselves when I confronted them, but not Rowan. This maddening woman only seemed to dig her heels in deeper.
“If anyone’s judgment is questionable, it’s yours. How else are we supposed to get that woman out of there if I’m no longer welcome inside? She was fucking terrified, Keir—chained and bruised and who knows what else she’s suffered. Things I don’t even want to imagine. I’m not leaving her there alone.”
Every impassioned word of her speech was another wave on the shore, washing away my resolve. By the time she was done, nothing remained but raw desire. I’d told myself after kissing her the last time that I couldn’t do it again. I was already dangerously close to addiction. One more sip from her lips, and I’d want to devour her whole. I’d want to own every goddamn inch of her body and soul.
I knew the danger, but she had me wound too tight. Lust coiled from my belly down to my straining cock. My balls were practically burrowing their way back into my body in search of release. The thought of branding her with my cum launched me over the edge.
My lips crashed down on hers.
I didn’t just kiss her. I fucked her mouth with my tongue, hands branding her body, and lungs hoping to steal her soul from deep within.
Like the last time, she didn’t taste like strawberry lip gloss or mint gum. That would be too typical for her. Rowan Alexander tasted like summer rain and heartbreak. Mine or hers, I couldn’t be sure. Either way, I was addicted. It took every last shred of my control to finally pull away from her.
“Fuck, you drive me crazy,” I said with a ragged breath.
“Is that why you kissed me?”
“I was just shutting you up.” I wished it were that simple.
The corners of her lips twitched before she sobered again. “I’m not breaking it off with him.”
I locked eyes with her and dropped every barrier so she’d hear the truth in what I was about to say. “If I see him near you again, I’ll kill him.”
Her lips parted twice before she found her words. “Keir, he has nothing to do with this.”
“You don’t know that.”
She frowned. “I don’t think he’s involved, but I’ll stay away from him for now.”
“For now?” I stepped away, turning my back to help calm myself. “Why the fuck are you fighting for him?”
“It’s not just him. Don’t you understand?”
“No, I don’t.” My voice raised dangerously close to a shout. “Enlighten me.”
Rowan’s shoulders relaxed, and a veil of callous determination settled over her features. “Stetson is the man I’m supposed to marry. If that falls apart, and his father is arrested, my father will be devastated. It may even end his career because of the family ties. I will not let that happen if it’s remotely in my power.”
“You’d rather let your father live in some fairy tale while you’re miserable than make him face reality?”
“Yes,” she hissed, emotion seeping past her walls.
Fury and revulsion carved my voice into a steel blade. “That, Miss Alexander, is fucked up.” With nothing left to say, I walked past her and let myself out.