Caught In Flames Read online

  But something else caught Sarina’s attention, and she looked out over The Sound to see a cluster of black-and-white figures leaping out of the waters of The Sound. The orca were back, and Sarina had no doubt that it was the same pod she’d interacted with before, who’d saved her life and then offered her a collective salute—a virtual parade that was much more than mere protection. It had been as if they’d meant to congratulate her on her new love, her new life. And now they were back on a similar occasion, a day to mark new hope and new possibilities, new love and new happiness .

  Sarina thought about the Polynesian legend, about the orca who’d saved her from an early death, who’d delivered her to safety. Sarina’s tears returned, tears of joy to know that there was more to it than simple legend. Sarina knew then with certainty that those orca in The Sound the year before had been her family, protecting her from beyond the grave. Sarina knew then that they’d returned to share her celebration, to share their love, to see her off to her new life with all the joy they’d been granted and would never lose. And a smaller figure told Sarina that Billie was among them at long last—a happy orca pup given new life among her own, now the child to her own children, once more a part of the miraculous cycle of life. Sarina could be halfa world away, and she would still recognize their presence and their love; she always would .

  * * *

  T he night’s sky was draped over the Caribbean like a velvet cloak, waves churning softly in the distance. Sarina raised the chilled chardonnay to her lips—brisk and tasty. Ty smiled, setting his large hand on hers as they each reclined a bit. Their private table was like an oasis within an oasis, a corner of paradise .

  But they weren’t there alone. Though Jesse was back in Seattle with her friend Blu, there was another presence at that table, invisible but not unrecognized. Sarina could feel that magical, miraculous change deep inside her. It was more than joy or contentment or the rush of new possibilities, a new future with the man she was destined to find. It was more than love .

  It was life itself .

  “Oh Attic shape ,” Ty recited, his voice low and soft as they embraced the words he loved so well, “fair attitude with breed of marble men and maidens overwrought, with forest branches and the trodden weed. Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought .”

  Sarina recognized the lines, from John Keats’ Ode On A Grecian Urn . She’d become familiar with all the great poet’s work, as well as Lord Byron’s, whose She Walks in Beauty had helped Ty win Sarina’s heart .

  “As doth eternity, ” Sarina recited in response, “cold pastoral! When old age shall this generation waste, thou shalt remain in midst of other woe; than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say’st,’Beauty is truth, truth beauty … ”

  Sarina took Ty’s hand and gently set it on her belly, flat and toned, fruitful with the seed of their first child together, a new and glorious part of the lives they would share and of the love they created. Ty knew what Sarina was telling him, and his smile responded to share his utter joy at the news .

  “‘That is all ye know on earth ,’” Sarina said, “‘and all ye need to know . ’”

  T HE END

  Unbridled Pursuit: The Full Knight Brothers Series

  Part I

  Copyright

  N o part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, etc. without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by copyright law .

  N OTE: This is a work of fiction, names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real life is coincidental. All characters in the story are 18 years of age or older. Intended reading audience 18 +

  C opyright ©️2017, Natalia Banks Publishing, All rights reserved .

  Chapter 1

  Kieran

  “T he tenants refuse to leave, Mr. Knight .”

  I say nothing for a moment, sizing up the new guy. He’s nervous. There’s sweat beading across his hairline. He turns his head to the side as if he can loosen the stranglehold of his tie and I know he’s struggling not to slide a finger under the collar .

  Placing my elbows on my desk, I tent my fingers and study him. His eyes trace my motions and his Adam’s apple bobs .

  I imagine he fools the rest of the office, but I know he’s not as tough as he plays .

  He’s a tool .

  And I’m about to bring the water to boil .

  “Start eviction proceedings.” My voice sounds cold to my own ears. But that’s how I got where I am today. The world is a cold, evil, heartless place. Either you keep up or you get put down .

  I’m sure as fuck not going to let compassion wring my neck .

  Your move, pretty boy .

  His eyes widen and he shifts his weight back as if he’s trying to put even millimeters of distance between us. “But they’re -”

  “Now .”

  He swallows back his argument .

  Checkmate, new blood .

  He turns and leaves, carefully closing my office door behind him. Swiveling my chair, I stare out the window of this high rise office .

  Like he’s right behind me, I hear my old man’s voice. “You’re nothing .”

  A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips. Damn if I didn’t prove the old bastard wrong. Too bad the asshole isn’t here to let me rub his nose in my success. But no, he made his choice. A knock at the door brings me full circle in my chair .

  On the other side of the glass, I see the bright blue eyes of the only person in this world that means anything to me. She slides open the door and runs over to throw an arm around my neck .

  “Daddy!” She says, pressing her forehead to mine .

  “How’s my warrior?” I ask, kissing her chin .

  She giggles and presses her hands to my cheeks. But instead of answering with words, she closes her right hand in a fist and presses it to her little chest. I follow suit. Balling up my fist, I bring my fingers to my chest .

  She taps her chest; a quick double tap that mimics her heartbeat .

  I do the same .

  “Still beating,” she whispers, before kissing my cheek .

  The ache in my soul grows into a dark, hungry monster, but I keep upbeat for her. “How was school ?”

  “Mrs. Linda is mean.” Her little face scrunches up like she’s eating something sour and I want to march down to the school and put in harsh words for Mrs. Linda. Instead, I try to get Olivia to open up .

  “What did she do that’s mean?” I ask .

  Before she can answer, my secretary Nikki peeks in, a lollypop in hand. “Olivia!” She says, careful not to look me in the eyes. My daughter looks over at her and I see a chill take her little frame over .

  “Yes?” she says, her icy tone deadpan .

  But I’m not proud. I don’t want this. I don’t want her to be cold. I want her to be warm, loving, sweet, and innocent. I don’t want her to be like me. I don’t want her to be dead inside .

  “Manners,” I say under my breath. Olivia’s wide blue eyes meet mine a moment, and I see a flash of understanding that’s decades too old flash behind her eyes. She glances back at Nikki, who’s stunned silent .

  “Hi Nikki!” Olivia’s tone is decidedly warmer, and I breathe out a sigh of relief. She sounds like a normal nine year old now. Warm and sunny, happy, even excited .

  Nikki just kind of reacts, still clearly put off by the initial reception. “I found this in my desk. I can’t eat it, so I thought you might be able to help.” Her glance suddenly meets mine and she blushes red and stammers. “I mean, if your dad -”

  “It’s fine.” My tone is dead. It’s not like I don’t know where Olivia is learning it from. She’s my daughter, all right. And she’s a blessing, yet I’m a bastard for taking something so pure and perfect and destroying it .

  “Oh, you’re so sweet,” Olivia says, her tone honey as she
leaves my side to skip over to Nikki. She takes the treat and tucks it in her pocket before telling me she’s off to the loo .

  Nikki looks after her and I look at Nikki .

  My eyes glide over her pleasant curves. Her skirt is proper, carefully measured to just above her knees. But the brilliant crimson of them screams Look at me! and I doubt any red-blooded man could resist. Her legs are long, slim, and would look amazing wrapped around my hips .

  Her cream-colored blouse is tucked in at the waist, showcasing her flat belly. But the thrust of her breasts leaves me no doubt she’s either god’s gift to men or she’s had work done. Her neck is long and slender, and her lips match her skirt .

  I wonder how often she reapplies that lipstick? It would have to be often to keep it so perfect. And that color, like ripe red tomatoes, would look incredible circling the base of my cock .

  As if she can hear my thoughts, Nikki looks over at me, her cheeks suddenly reddening .

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Knight, I should have asked first -”

  “It’s fine,” I say, still looking at her. Her wide eyes are warm and chocolaty, and I see fear there. Good. It’s better if they fear me. It stops them from asking stupid questions or wasting my time with things that I really don’t want to deal with .

  Her chocolate hair is twisted up in a bun that’s loose. Tendrils have escaped to frame her pale face and cling to her neck. There’s heat on her skin, and the slight sheen of moisture. It’s not hot in my office, I guess I just make everyone sweat .

  But the blush creeping down her chest is clearly not embarrassment. And when her eyes stray to my lips, I see her heart begin to pound the delicate skin covering the hollow at the base of her throat .

  She seems trapped, caught like a fly in a spider’s web as we study each other .

  “Daddy!” Olivia says, walking back in .

  “Vi,” I say, not taking my eyes off Nikki. “Is Sandy not waiting?” Her nanny is forever pushing limits. As it is, I’m certain the woman is sitting in the car on the curb right now, waiting for Olivia to come back rather than staying with her .

  How many times do I have to tell the woman that I don’t care if she thinks my nine year old needs freedoms, I want her escorted everywhere ? You don’t get where I am without making a few enemies. And though I’ve got a bodyguard who’s starting tomorrow, I would still like the nanny to be by Olivia’s side .

  Not that she couldn’t take care of herself. I had her take her first self-defense class at three. And now, when we spar, she’s quick and ready when I try to surprise her. Still, as tough as she is, she’s still a small child. Even if she fought her heart out, it would be possible for someone large to grab her and toss her in the back of a car and drive off .

  I know she’d fight like hell to get free, and we’ve got a plan in place if that happens, but I still don’t want that plan to become a reality .

  She doesn’t need that trauma on top of everything else life has dealt her .

  Olivia’s face falls, and I know I caught her. I fix the full force of my fatherly anger on her and she has the grace to look somewhat contrite. “Yes. I’ll go. I love you daddy,” she says, pulling me into another hug .

  “I love you too,” I say softly for her ears only .

  I’m not my father. She’ll always know how much I love her. She’ll know I value her, that she’s everything to me, that life wouldn’t be worth living without her .

  “Now go,” I tell her and she walks off like a proper lady, her chin held high .

  “She’s so cute,” Nikki says, and I realize this is the most conversation we’ve had since she started two years ago. She’d been eighteen then. I’d noticed her, but only vaguely. As much as I notice anyone in the office .

  Sure, she’s got a nice body, but I don’t mix business and pleasure. That’s a recipe for disaster. And it’s not like I don’t have plenty of women on hold, waiting for me to call or text them .

  “Is Sandy her mom?” Nikki asks, and I fix the full force of my glare on her .

  She winces and backs toward the door. “I’m sorry, Mr. Knight .”

  “Get out .”

  She nods and escapes my office, closing the sliding glass door with a thump. I stare after her, thinking about those red lips. I can think of a punishment for her .

  Fuck. I need to blow off some steam .

  First the stupid tenants in the new house I bought are refusing to get the fuck out, and now I’m seriously thinking about fucking a woman I work with. I must be losing it .

  Planting my elbows on my desk, I put my face in my hands and let out a sigh. Nothing comes easy .

  Is Sandy her mom? Damn it. That last thing I want is more drama, more bullshit. Why are people so shocked at the thought of a single dad? What, women can’t be shitty parents too? Only men cut ties and run? Only men can be deadbeats? Jesus Christ, what is wrong with the world that we think only women are there for their kids, that men are the ones who leave, that it’s anyone’s business who Olivia’s mom is ?

  I don’t owe anyone a damn thing. And I certainly don’t owe my co-workers explanations on the dysfunction of my personal life .

  The best thing that bitch ever did was walk away .

  We don’t need her. Olivia and I, we’re just perfect on our own. I’ve got her, she’s got me, and we’re getting along just fine .

  Still furious, I stare at the paperwork on my desk and try to divert my energy to work. The tenants have to leave for me to renovate the house. I work on one project at a time, so the roadblocks are more infuriating. My hands are tied, and I don’t like being in a situation I don’t have full control over. My old man taught me to make sure I’m always on top .

  “Even a hooker is waiting to cut your throat and take your wallet,” he’d told me on my twelfth birthday. Great words for a young boy to hear. But he’s right. Everyone is waiting to see a weak spot to exploit .

  “You’ve got to strike before they have the chance .”

  Yeah, he gave me more gold than I give him credit for. But I would have traded it all. But it is what it is. I made myself. I took the information he gave me and used it to crawl out of the hole he’d dug for me .

  An eviction will take months. Maybe it’s time to take on a second project. I have to learn to live with this streak of perfectionism within me. It’s a dog that’s got me by the throat, and maybe it’s time to break out. It’s not like there aren’t other properties I’ve been looking at. I won’t stop until I own every worthwhile patch of dirt in this damn city .

  My phone rings, and I see the name and ignore it. I don’t want to talk to Connor right now. I don’t want to talk to either of my brothers right now .

  Chapter 2

  Emma

  J et nudges my back, and I give his nose a stroke. Leading the horses into the barn at the end of the night has been a chore I’ve had since I was five. I remember that first time like it was yesterday. Dad hadn’t known I was following him as he led an old mare into the barn. He had an endearing habit of talking to the horses. He’d divulge secrets to them he wouldn’t share with anyone else; not even me .

  And he was telling her that he needed a boy, some strong young son to take his place .

  A daughter, he’d confided as the mare shook her head and swished her tail, was trouble. He was certain I’d be like my mom, knocked up at sixteen and married off to the stupid boy she’d fallen in love with .

  The problem was, my mother wouldn’t be able to give him any more children. He would never have that son he so desperately needed to fill his boot prints when he was gone. No, my mother had bled out seconds after I’d been delivered .

  And something in dad burned out when she died. Something intangible, but I’d seen it in pictures of him before she was gone, pictures of him as a child, pictures of him as a handsome young man that dotted the walls of the old family farm house. Some spark that loved life just… fizzled out .

  Dad never blamed me, or if he did, he never made me aware o
f it .

  I think he blamed himself. I think that pain destroyed him, ate him alive inside, yet still, he somehow managed to give me a good life, a solid foundation, and the tools I needed to become someone stronger than he’d ever hoped a daughter could be .

  As he talked to that old mare that night when I was five years old, I’d walked right up and took the mare’s lead rope from him. In my best grown up voice, I’d told him I’d take her from here. He’d just stared after me, as if unsure what had happened or if he should argue with me .

  But he hadn’t. And from then on, he expected me to bring them in every night .

  A breeze kicks up and I lift my face toward the heavens. It had been a brilliant early summer day and the world still smells like warm apples and horses, hay and willow trees .

  I miss him .

  It’s different to lose a parent you’ve never really met. I didn’t know mom beyond the stories dad had told me. She’d been sweet, quick to love, and very unassuming. Dad told me I was like her, and I rebelled against that thought .

  I don’t want to be sweet or unassuming. There’s no place for either of those traits on a ranch. I need to be tough, rough, and able to roll with the punches life throws at me. And there’ve been a lot of punches .

  I stand still and look up at the stars that are beginning to blink overhead. The edge of the horizon is still fading orange and the chill is quickly destroying the warmth of the day. Jet lowers his head to nibble on the grass at our feet and I give his neck a quick rub. The old dirt road leading to the barn is lined with grass that’s short here and there where the horses have kept it in check .