Riled (The Invincibles Book 4) Read online

  “You goddamn bitch,” he seethed. “Shut your fucking mouth.” He tried to kiss me again, and I bit his lip as hard as I could, tasting the metallic tang of blood. “You like it rough, princess? No problem.”

  He grabbed my throat and squeezed. I fought for air, knowing that, within seconds, I would lose consciousness and he’d either continue strangling me until I was dead, or he’d rape me.

  I closed my eyes when dizziness overcame me, and felt my body giving way. “Gran Bea, help me,” I muttered with what little voice I had left.

  The door burst open, and two men rushed in. “Let her go!” one yelled. I slid down the wall, gasping for air as the other man tackled and restrained Konstantine.

  The man who’d yelled, picked me up and rushed out of the room with me in his arms.

  “He…he tried to rape me,” I stuttered.

  “Shh,” he murmured, racing down the hallway with me still in his arms. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

  By the time the door to the lift opened, the other man had joined us. “Here,” he said, covering me with a blanket. “How is she?” he asked.

  The man holding me didn’t respond.

  We took the lift, and when the doors opened, he went in the opposite direction of the lobby, to a back exit where I saw an SUV just outside. Someone opened the passenger door, and the man holding me set me on the seat, made sure the blanket covered me, and then climbed in. He put his arm around my shoulders and held me close when I started to cry. “You’re safe now.”

  The vehicle sped off and then slowed a few minutes later when we pulled into the driveway of another hotel.

  “Come,” the man said once it stopped by the entrance. He lifted me from the seat and into his arms. There was something about him so familiar, but given my mental state, I may not have recognized my own mother.

  “Who are you?” I whispered as we waited for the lift.

  He looked over at a couple waiting. “I’ll explain everything once we’re upstairs.”

  I squirmed out of his arms, and he set me on my feet. There was no way I was going up to a hotel room with a man I didn’t know. It was bad enough I’d gotten into a car with him. Where was my head? Konstantine had just tried to rape me, and here I was, allowing a man to just carry me about without me giving another thought for my own safety—it didn’t matter that he was charming, handsome, or that he smelled bloody fantastic. Lots of criminals did.

  I turned my back and wrapped the blanket around me so I could hold it closed.

  He didn’t say anything until the couple got on the lift and the door closed behind them. “My name is Cortez DeLéon. Someone who knew your grandmother, was concerned for your safety and asked me to find you.”

  The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it. “Who are you?” I repeated.

  “I have experience with locating missing persons.”

  I liked that he didn’t repeat his name, but instead, understood I’d meant something different. “Was it the Queen?”

  He didn’t answer, but I knew it was. Who else could snap their fingers and have someone look for me? Not that I’d been lost.

  “How did you know…” My voice trailed off when the other man joined us.

  “Hi,” he said, holding out his hand. “No time to introduce myself earlier.” He smiled. “I’m Grinder.”

  “Kensington.” I shook his hand.

  The lift chimed, the doors opened, and a group of people got out before we got in. The man who’d introduced himself as Cortez hit the button to close the door before anyone else could get on.

  The name sounded as familiar as he seemed, but I couldn’t place it.

  When he put a card in the slot and pressed the button marked “PH,” the lift began its ascent. The doors reopened, and we stepped off directly into the suite.

  “Grinder will order food. After you eat, you may rest.”

  “Um…I’m sorry I don’t know what to call you.”

  “Call him Rile.”

  “Cortez is fine.” He put his hand on the small of my back and ushered me over to a sitting area. “What would you like to eat?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “You will feel better if you have food in your stomach.” He smiled at me in a way a father might at his daughter, but the feeling that came over me was nothing like a child would feel for a parent. While the other man was probably closer to my age, it was Cortez who’d claimed my interest.

  There was no hair on his head, but the stubble on his chin was gray, and he had the bluest eyes. Something about his powerful hands as he held me earlier and guided me now, his broad shoulders and strong arms, made me feel safe, even though both men had an intimidating aura about them.

  There was something I’d wanted to ask him, but having him this close made me a little dizzy. He smelled so good. There was something familiar about his scent. What was it?

  “How do you know the Queen?” I asked instead when I couldn’t remember my original question.

  “I am a relative.”

  “I…um…don’t have my clothes.”

  Cortez closed and opened his bright blue eyes slowly. “I’ll have it taken care of. There is a robe in the closet you may wear for now.” He pointed toward a doorway.

  “Are you going back to the other hotel?”

  He studied me for a moment and then shook his head. “No.”

  “How, then, will you get my clothes?”

  Again, he studied me. “Trust me.”

  I’d never felt more terrified in my life than when Konstantine was attacking me, but there was something about this man that made me smile. It also sent tingles down my spine.

  “I’d like to bathe.” I wanted to scrub everywhere Konstantine had touched me.

  Cortez nodded and closed the door when I stepped into the room.

  I sunk down in the warm water of the tub. I was so strung out that I thought I might fall to sleep straight away if I wasn’t careful.

  I washed my hair, scrubbed my body, drained the tub, and filled it a second time. I rested my back against the cool porcelain and closed my eyes. With the tub’s depth, the water came close to my neck, and it felt bloody wonderful.

  Despite my resolve not to, I must’ve drifted off, but woke when I heard a knock on the door.

  “Dinner has arrived,” Cortez said in a loud voice.

  “I’ll be right there,” I hollered back.

  I hadn’t felt hungry earlier, but once the scents of goulash and stropachka wafted into the room, I hurriedly grabbed the robe from the closet.

  “It smells fantastic,” I said, taking a seat in the chair Cortez held for me. Before sitting back down, he set a dish in front of me.

  “There is more, and we can always order something else if this doesn’t suit.”

  I couldn’t help but notice the look on Grinder’s face, although I couldn’t read it. Amusement perhaps?

  Cortez sat beside me. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

  “Please.” I took two heaping bites of the goulash and the noodles that reminded me of German spaetzle.

  “I have received a request that we accompany you to your mother’s house,” Cortez said a few minutes later.

  My eyes remained focused on my food. “That won’t be necessary.”

  “That we accompany you?” Grinder asked.

  “No. She’d rather not go to her mother’s,” Cortez said before I had a chance to respond. It suddenly dawned on me who he was, although it didn’t explain why the Queen had asked him to come looking for me.

  “You’re King Ferdinand’s nephew.”

  Cortez nodded.

  “Then, you should be aware I’ll be fine once we’ve returned to England. The monarchy provides security.” A look passed between the two men. “What?”

  “There may be some retaliation,” Grinder answered; Cortez glared at him. “What?” he asked like I had.

  “Her Majesty has made the suggestion.”

  He emphasized the wor
d in such a way that I knew it was nothing of the kind. The Queen was demanding I go to America—to my mother’s house.

  “What about my father?” I’d much prefer staying with him until my great-aunt deemed it safe for me to return home.

  Cortez reached out and covered my hand with his. “I regret what you’ve just gone through. I will do my best to make the arrangements you’d prefer.”

  Again, I couldn’t help but notice Grinder’s reaction. This time, he appeared incredulous.

  It was my own reaction that bothered me more. I found myself wanting to crawl into Cortez’s lap and have him kiss me.

  “Excuse me.” Before I could push my chair back, Cortez stood to pull it out for me, looking at me questioningly.

  “I’m very tired. I’d like to rest now if that would be okay.”

  “Of course. Do you need anything else before you retire?”

  “I don’t think so.” Clothes, but he’d said he’d take care of that.

  “Rile.” Grinder pointed toward another door.

  “Right.” He rushed over to a closet and removed several hanging items, all covered in garment sleeves. With his other hand, he picked up two bags. “If you’ll give me a moment, I’ll bring the rest.”

  “What is all this?” I asked when he returned with more.

  “Clothes. And shoes, of course.”

  “I may need a few more things.”

  He looked at me with wide eyes. “Like?”

  “I’m joking.” Even I was surprised at my ability to do so, given what I’d been through with that bastard Konstantine. “Thank you, Cortez. I appreciate this gesture very much.”

  “You’ll find something to sleep in.” He motioned with his arm in the direction of the bags he’d set around the room.

  “I’m sure I’ll find something for every conceivable occasion.”

  “Rest well,” he said after studying me for long enough that it made me want to ask him to stay. He walked out and closed the door behind him, leaving me wishing I’d been brave enough to ask him not to go.

  3

  Rile

  “Do you want to explain?”

  I’d anticipated this. “Kensington has been through a tremendous ordeal. There’s nothing more to be done tonight.”

  “Nothing more to be done? What about Konstantine?”

  “Why would you assume that isn’t already being taken care of?” Not in the way I would’ve preferred. However, I did not intend to share the specifics with Grinder. He would be as displeased as I, but far more likely to act on it. Doing so would not help matters. It was up to Konstantine’s father to see to it his son was properly dealt with.

  He walked over to the bar area. “Brandy?”

  “Please.”

  “Who is she to you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve never seen you act this way around anyone.” Grinder handed me the glass. “She makes you nervous.”

  “That’s absurd.”

  “Not in the least. You are typically the quintessential gentleman. You charm women in a way I may have once envied, but with her, you’re tongue-tied.”

  “I’m nothing of the sort.” I would admit, only to myself, that there was something about Kensington that rankled. It was almost as though she could read me in a way few could. No one, really. There had been someone capable once, but she was gone, never to be replaced.

  I drained the brandy in the glass and set it on the bar. “I believe I’ll retire as well.” I went into the room next to the one where Kensington slept, and closed the door. I pulled a book from my bag and settled on the bed without removing my clothes. If the woman on the other side of the wall needed something in the night, I wouldn’t want her to be made uncomfortable, given I typically slept in the nude.

  I’d drifted to sleep with the light on when I woke to whimpering sounds. I raced into the next room; Kensington was in the midst of a nightmare. I sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her hair until she came awake.

  “You had a bad dream,” I explained when she opened her eyes and looked into mine. She scooted over, not seemingly to get away from me, though. “Would you like me to stay until you are able to fall back asleep?”

  “Would you mind terribly?”

  “Not at all.” I rested my back against the headboard, stunned when Kensington burrowed under my arm and rested her head on my chest.

  “You seem so familiar,” she murmured, half asleep.

  “We met once. It’s been years now. Perhaps that’s what you’re remembering.”

  “No. That isn’t it.”

  It seemed only a matter of minutes before her breathing evened out, and I knew she was asleep. Rather than easing out from under her, I closed my eyes.

  When I woke and checked the time, it was close to eight in the morning. In her sleep, Kensington had rolled away from me, so I gently rose from the bed and quietly opened and closed the door behind me. I looked up and saw Grinder seated at the same table where we’d had a late dinner the night before.

  “Tea?” he asked with a smirk.

  “In a moment.” I went into the bedroom and to the lavatory. I needed a shower and a shave but would see to it once I’d had my morning tea.

  “She had a bad dream,” I explained when I came back out to join him.

  “You owe me no explanation.”

  “I feel as though I do. Your judgment is stifling.”

  He laughed. “She mentioned preferring to stay with her father.”

  “Yes,” I muttered, not looking forward to telling her that staying with him would not be an option, given I’d not heard back from him, even after leaving an urgent message.

  “What’s the story there?”

  “Her father is Michael Alexander Whitby.”

  “Whit?”

  I nodded. “You know him.”

  “Of him, and that makes sense. I hadn’t put it together. Isn’t he a famous wildlife photographer?”

  “I believe so.”

  “And her mum?”

  “Kiki Buckley.” Kendra Astor Whitby Buckley, more accurately. Former débutante of the year, present socialite of equal merit, alcoholic, adulteress, and a ghastly parent. I couldn’t fault Kensington for not wanting to stay with her. “Kensington’s grandparents raised her in England.”

  I didn’t know either well, but everything I’d heard indicated that William “Huck” Huxly Whitby and his wife, Beatrice, the sister of the Queen’s consort, were very good to their granddaughter.

  “Are there no other options?”

  I shook my head. Both Whit and Kiki were only children, so there were no aunts or uncles with whom Kensington could reside—other than the Queen, her great-aunt, and staying with her was not an option.

  Not to mention, she was a grown woman, an adult who had lived on her own since her grandmother’s death several months ago.

  “She’s twenty-six?” Grinder asked, looking at something on his laptop.

  “That’s right.”

  “Seems younger.”

  I brushed my lower lip with my finger. “As I said earlier, your judgment is stifling.”

  “Whenever you do that thing with your lip, it’s like you’re either reading someone’s mind or you’re getting a message from the ‘great beyond.’”

  He had no idea the accuracy of his words, not that I would ever admit it to him or anyone else.

  When the bedroom door opened, Grinder and I both stood.

  “Good morning, Kensington.”

  She padded over when I pulled the chair out for her.

  “Tea?”

  “Yes, please. When did you leave?” she asked when Grinder excused himself.

  “Not more than an hour ago.” I looked into her amber-colored eyes, studied the perfect features of her face. She looked so young without makeup.

  “Thank you for staying with me.”

  I almost slipped and said it was my pleasure, which it was, but it would be a completely inappropriate thing for m
e to say.

  Grinder walked over to the lift when it chimed and ushered a gentleman in who was wheeling what I assumed was breakfast. He removed the plate covers, revealing pastries, strudel, muesli, and fruit.

  “Go ahead,” I said when Kensington eyed the strudel. She plucked it from the plate with a childlike smile. I leaned closer. “Feeling better this morning?”

  “Since having gone to hell and back, you mean?”

  From behind her, Grinder pointed at himself and then at the bedroom. I motioned with my head for him to join us.

  “Mind a little sunshine?” he asked, walking over to the draperies.

  Once opened, the light provided me a better look at the side of Kensington’s face. It was all I could do not to reach over and stroke her cheek with my fingertip.

  “Bloody wanker backhanded me,” she mumbled, noticing my gaze.

  I felt a rage building inside of me; I stood and excused myself into the bedroom. I closed the door, walked into the en suite, and threw water on my face like I had earlier. I sat on the edge of the bed and took several deep breaths. When I closed my eyes, I could see Konstantine attacking her. A roar of anger burned in my chest that I pushed back down. I heard a light tap at the door.

  “Come in.”

  Kensington eased the door open, but stood on the threshold. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’ve nothing to be sorry for.”

  “You’re angry.”

  I turned my back, but I could still see her face in the mirror. In this light, the bruises were even more pronounced.

  “He was very drunk.”

  I nodded, wishing she didn’t feel as though she had to make excuses for the man who’d attacked her.

  She looked as if she was struggling with what to say next. “Um, I don’t have my mobile.”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Cortez?”

  I turned around and studied her.

  “I’d rather not go to Kiki’s.”

  I understood, I just didn’t have an alternative. And I had no choice but to abide by the Queen’s request that she go to America for the time being.

  When she left and closed the door behind her, I made arrangements for us to travel to London and then on to the States.