Riled (The Invincibles Book 4) Read online

  From the moment we left the hotel, Kensington’s demeanor changed from timid to agitated. When we boarded the plane and I asked her to take a seat, she did so with folded arms and a scowl on her face. I sat in the spot closest to her.

  I was about to threaten her with taking her over my knee and spanking her like I would a child with similar behavior, but I took several deep breaths instead when it resulted in my body’s highly inappropriate reaction.

  I closed my eyes and imagined Kensington on her knees, hands on my thighs, eyes imploring as she begged me to forgive her. It took my breath away. In my vision, her hands moved from where they rested on my trousers to my belt. Instead of allowing her to continue, I pulled her to her feet, cupped her luscious bottom with both my hands, and punished her with my kiss.

  The hitch of her breath jarred me out of my fantasy, and I opened my eyes.

  Her eyes looked from mine to my lips. Her breathing was labored, and her cheeks were flushed in a way they might be if she could read my thoughts.

  “How old are you, Cortez?”

  “I will be thirty-seven next month.”

  She turned her head and looked out the window. “You seem older.”

  4

  Kensington

  I inwardly laughed at how my best friend, Teagon, had once taken the piss out of me when I told her I fancied a man we’d seen at the pub—who upon closer inspection appeared older than my father.

  “Ew,” she’d said. “What’s with you and the daddy complex?”

  “He’s handsome and…distinguished-looking.”

  She’d taken another look. “God, Kenzie, he’s my boss’ boss.”

  I wondered what Teagon would think of Cortez. He was only ten years older than me. Plus a couple of months. Maybe I did have a daddy complex, given how much I wished he’d kiss me right now. He was thinking about it too, I could tell by the look on his face. I didn’t let my eyes wander south to find out what else he might be thinking about.

  What was wrong with me? I’d nearly been raped, and yet I was fantasizing about sex with Cortez.

  He rested his arm near me, and I could see a tattoo sleeve peeking out from the cuff of his button-down shirt. There was something so sexy about a man like him having a sleeve. He seemed so formal, so proper, but obviously, he had an adventurous side.

  He leaned closer. He smelled so bloody good, I couldn’t help but take a deep breath.

  “We’ll fly to London. From there, we’ll take another plane to America,” he told me.

  “Will you be traveling with me?”

  “Yes, as will Grinder.”

  “Is that really his name?”

  Cortez smiled. “His name is Miles Stone.”

  I understood what relation the name had with his, but not why it was necessary to call him something other than Miles.

  “They call you Rile?”

  “Yes.”

  I smiled when he didn’t offer any explanation.

  “Do you work for the Queen?”

  “I do not.”

  “SIS?”

  “At one time, yes.”

  “But not any longer?”

  He shook his head.

  “I meant to thank you for my clothes. I’ll see to it you’re reimbursed once we arrive in London.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  “I insist,” I pressed.

  “And I insist you not.” I was drawn to his lips when he smiled. I wished he’d kiss me, but I knew he wouldn’t. He probably saw me as a nuisance—like a younger sister. I sighed and looked away in embarrassment.

  He put his finger on my chin and turned my head so I faced him. His eyes studied mine, and for a moment, I was certain he could read my thoughts. He ran his fingertip over my cheek where Konstantine had hit me.

  “Does it hurt?” he asked.

  “No,” I answered, hoping he wouldn’t stop.

  “I hate that he did this to you,” he murmured.

  When I leaned forward, my mouth close to his, he dropped his hand and leaned back.

  “Excuse me.” He stood and walked toward the back of the plane, leaving me feeling bereft and mortified.

  I put my head in my hands and turned my body so I was facing the plane’s window.

  When the aircraft landed, I stood as soon as it came to a stop on the tarmac. I knew the Queen wanted me to go to America, but I simply couldn’t allow Cortez to accompany me. I’d call her and beg her to let me either stay in England or to travel to my mother’s on my own.

  “Kensington, wait.” Cortez stepped in front of me and barred my exit.

  “Please,” I implored. “Let me pass.”

  He gently took my arm and moved me out of the way so Grinder could depart the plane. We waited there until the crew left as well.

  “Kensington…I find myself…perhaps I’ve given you the wrong impression.”

  My cheeks flamed. This was precisely the thing I wanted to avoid. “No. You did nothing of the sort. Please, may I get off the plane now?”

  He didn’t budge. Instead, he cupped my cheek with his palm. “I find myself…” he repeated. “Unable to resist.” He brought his lips to mine and kissed me. It was softer, gentler, and far sexier than any other kiss I’d ever experienced. His tongue caressed my bottom lip, and I opened my mouth to him.

  Oh, but this man could kiss. He angled his head, his tongue stroking mine, and my knees weakened. I never wanted him to stop, but he did.

  “I’m—”

  I put my fingers on his lips, knowing he was about to apologize, and I couldn’t bear it. I skirted around him and rushed down the steps, across the tarmac, and into the private terminal, hoping to be able to get to a phone to call my great-aunt. As I went through the second set of double doors, I immediately recognized several of the security agents who stood between me and the hallway leading to the public terminals.

  “The other plane is right this way,” said Grinder, motioning for me to go ahead.

  “I’ll just stop in the ladies’ first.”

  “You may make use of the one on the plane.”

  “Very well,” I muttered. “But I must hurry.”

  He escorted me onto the plane and motioned toward the forward loo.

  “I’m sorry, is there a stateroom?” This wasn’t my first ride on a private plane, let alone one like this. I recognized straight away how best to avoid further embarrassment by having to face Cortez.

  “There is.”

  I looked to my right and saw the man himself walking across the tarmac. “May I?”

  “Of course.”

  I shut the door behind me and locked it before going in to use the loo. It dawned on me then that Cortez had said he’d take care of getting my mobile. Or did he mean “a mobile.”

  My handbag was also back in Konstantine’s hotel room along with my passport and credit cards. Dammit. What a headache it would be to replace all that, particularly from America. I flopped on the bed and rolled over, burying my face in the pillow. What a bloody mess my life was, all because I’d gone off with Konstantine von Habsburg on a stupid whim.

  There was a rap at the door, but I didn’t answer until I heard Grinder’s voice. I opened it a crack. “Yes?”

  “Here you are.” He handed me my bag.

  “How did you…never mind.”

  “Your clothes, the ones you brought to Budapest, are in the hold with your other luggage.”

  “Thank you.”

  He looked as though he had something else to say, so I waited. “He won’t bite, you know.”

  “I’ve no clue what you mean.”

  He smiled. “Sure, you don’t. Buckle up for takeoff.”

  The first person I called when my mobile powered up was my father.

  “Hey, baby girl. How are you?”

  “I’m on my way to stay with Kiki.”

  He laughed. “That says it all, doesn’t it?”

  “I’d rather come stay with you, Daddy.”

  “I’ve heard
through the ‘chain of command’ that my aunt has requested you go to America, darling.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “The Atacama Desert in Chile.”

  “That’s South America. Wouldn’t it count?”

  My father laughed again. “I’m certain it would not. To be honest, it’s almost a miracle you were able to reach me. There’s literally no mobile service where I am.”

  “Must be a sign that I was meant to speak with you.”

  “Anyway, stay well, darling. You are well-versed in avoiding your mother. I have faith you will see as little of her on this visit as you would’ve any other time of your life.”

  The same could be said of him, but confronting him now would not accomplish anything. I’d been lucky that I was able to live with my grandparents throughout my childhood.

  I’d hidden myself away in the stateroom, locked the door, and yet I was still disappointed that an hour passed and Cortez hadn’t knocked on the door.

  I stretched out and hoped to sleep, but tossed and turned instead. It occurred to me how selfish I’d been to take the stateroom without asking if either Cortez or Grinder would like to make use of it.

  I stood, straightened my clothes, grabbed my bag, and opened the door. Cortez was seated just outside and bolted upright.

  “Is anything wrong?”

  He startled me, and I put my hand on my heart. “No. I just thought someone else might want to rest.”

  He scrubbed his face with his hand. “You’re avoiding me.”

  I saw that Grinder was obviously asleep, based on the way his mouth hung open, so I sat down beside Cortez. “I’m embarrassed. That’s all.”

  “Because I kissed you?”

  “Because you wish you hadn’t.”

  “It’s not—”

  I put my fingertips on his lips. “Please do not tell me that it’s you, not me, or anything equally trite. I wanted you to kiss me, and you did. So, thank you.”

  He moved my fingers away from his lips but held onto my hand and smiled. “I can assure you, the pleasure was all mine.” He sighed. “Kensington.”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s a beautiful name.”

  Mixed signals much?

  He dropped my hand. “I’m confusing you. It’s unfair.” He motioned to the stateroom. “Rest. It’s a long flight.”

  “I doubt I’ll sleep anyway. You go ahead.”

  “What if I sit with you until you’re able to sleep?”

  “I do remember you.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “I remember the way you smelled.”

  We both laughed. When Cortez stood and held out his hand, I rested mine in it. We went into the room, and he pulled out the bunk. It was much bigger than I thought, more like a king-size bed than the full I’d expected.

  “My father’s plane has a much nicer stateroom,” he murmured, perhaps by way of an apology.

  “Whose plane is this?”

  “It is also part of the DeLéon fleet.”

  Something told me this wasn’t information he shared with just anyone, or easily.

  Cortez put his strong arm around me, and I nestled into him, just like I had last night in the hotel room. Within minutes, I felt myself drifting to sleep.

  5

  Rile

  It seemed my body was ignoring every message my brain was sending it as though the connection was lost. My only saving grace was that, within hours, we would arrive in America and Kensington would be safely ensconced with her mother.

  I knew I shouldn’t kiss her, yet I did. I knew I shouldn’t tease her, yet I did. I knew I shouldn’t be lying on this bed with her in my arms, yet I was.

  A warm feeling settled over me as I rested my head against hers, smiling that she recalled the way I smelled.

  “She’s good for you,” came the voice.

  I shook my head. She’s too young for me. I represent someone who protected her, saved her. There’s nothing more to it.

  “Open your heart, Cort. It’s time.”

  It wasn’t time. It would never be time. Regardless of how much the voice in my head pushed me, reopening my heart would never happen. Your death destroyed me, Celestina. It broke my heart, and there is no way to repair it.

  “This one will repair it, Cort. Trust me.”

  I eased from under Kensington’s sleeping form and quietly left the stateroom. Twenty-four hours from now, Kensington would be someone I rescued, like I had so many others. She wouldn’t be part of my life any more than they were.

  “Are you going to be like this for the rest of the flight?” Grinder asked.

  “Like what?”

  “Sullen. Argumentative. A pain in the arse.”

  “I am none of those things.” Especially the first.

  He grunted and moved to a seat near the front of the aircraft. I stayed in the middle, and Kensington was fast asleep in the aft. Social-distancing at its finest, I thought with a smile. Keeping people at arm’s length was a specialty of mine. Any closer, and losing them would hurt more than I could bear. One loss alone had nearly destroyed me. More, I’d never live through.

  When the pilot announced our initial descent into White Plains Airport, I returned to the stateroom to find Kensington awake and sitting in one of the chairs.

  “I was just about to come out,” she said, putting something I couldn’t see in her bag.

  “Very well,” I said, turning to leave.

  “Cortez?”

  “Yes?”

  “Have you spoken with Kiki?”

  “I have not.”

  She looked away, toward the window. “She may not appreciate my showing up.”

  “She was the one who alerted the Queen, Kensington. I’m sure it was out of concern for the daughter she would like very much to protect from harm.” As I recalled, though, the Queen had said she believed the news came by way of Kensington’s mother. It now occurred to me that it hadn’t been from her mother at all, it had been from mine.

  Kensington laughed and shook her head. “Concern and protect are two words that have never been in my mother’s vocabulary.”

  I rested my hand on the jamb of the stateroom door when I felt the essence of a hand on my shoulder.

  “She needs you,” came the unwelcome voice I’d heard enough from earlier.

  “We’ll land shortly. Grinder and I will accompany you to your mother’s residence.” I abruptly turned and walked away, knowing by my glimpse of the look on her face that Kensington felt my harsh dismissal. Rather than try to make up for it, I returned to my seat.

  Kensington was understandably subdued when we arrived at her mother’s residence in Greenwich, Connecticut. The stately home was one of the few remaining Long Island Sound compounds, large enough both in square footage and acreage that Kensington and her mother could live on the estate and never see one another. It was in gate-guarded Indian Harbor and sat almost directly on an expansive shoreline, making it more secure than many of the area’s other communities.

  As we drove through the gates of the estate, we passed verdant landscaped grounds, a pool, tennis court, and putting green.

  “You can pull in there,” Kensington said, pointing to what looked to be a guest house.

  “We’ll stop at the main residence first,” I said to the driver before he made the turn.

  The front door was open, and we stepped inside, but Kiki was nowhere to be seen.

  “I hate this place,” Kensington muttered under her breath.

  Even I had to admit its ostentatiousness was overwhelming. The entryway alone was ornate to the point of being gaudy. Buckingham Palace had nothing on this.

  “There you are.” A woman I wouldn’t have recognized had we not been in her home, approached from the back of the house. “Hello, darling.” She cheek-kissed Kensington, put both hands on her shoulders, and took a step back. “You look exhausted. I’ve warned you, the lifestyle you lead will catch up with you if you don’t take care.”

&nbs
p; “Hi, Kiki.”

  In three sentences and one look about, I understood why Kensington didn’t want to be here.

  “Cortez! Goodness, I didn’t see you there.” My eyes met Kensington’s as her mother walked toward me, and I winked.

  “Hello, Kiki. May I introduce my associate Miles Stone?”

  “Aren’t you a handsome one?” she said to him, cheek-kissing him after me. “Kenzie, don’t you think Mr. Stone is handsome?”

  “How many times must I remind you, Mother? I am a lesbian.”

  “Oh, pish-posh with that. I know you say that simply to get me riled up.”

  Again, my eyes met Kensington’s, and we both smiled.

  “What about you, Cortez?” Kiki’s voice changed from sing-songy to solemn. “I was so sorry to hear—”

  “It’s been years, Kiki. No need to offer condolences now.”

  “Has it been that long? Well, I certainly hope someone else has snapped you up. Connected to royalty via your father and your mother—goodness, but you’re a catch. If I weren’t already married…Too bad Kenzie is so young. What can I bring you? It’s early for a martini, but you have been traveling so, c’est la vie, as they say.”

  I hadn’t seen Kiki in years, but still, I should’ve remembered how she was. I couldn’t regret bringing her daughter here more. Would that I could rewind time and keep her with me in England.

  God! What was I thinking? Keep her in England with me? Had I forgotten my resolve to deliver her to her mother and then walk away?

  “Thank you for the offer, Kiki, but we cannot stay.”

  “What? But you’ve just arrived.”

  “Kensington has just arrived. We were merely her escorts.”

  “I’ve a mind to figure out a way to force you to stay, but never mind. Go if you must. Kenzie, where are your things?”

  “Still in the car, Kiki. I’ll be staying in the guest house.”

  Her mother folded her arms. I was anxious to hear what she’d come up with in order to save face. I’m sure where Kensington stayed mattered little to her other than for appearances.