His Forbidden Desire Read online

  Luca should have walked away right then and there. He knew a trap when he saw it, and this entire situation screamed danger in a way that had his instincts thrumming. Getting the fuck out of there was the only option.

  He dug into the bag and grabbed the suntan lotion.

  Cami hadn’t actually thought he’d do it. For all her teasing about him being a bull in a china shop, she was the one waving the red flag in front of his face and then being surprised when he charged her. She tried to relax, tried to act like she couldn’t feel his gaze dragging down her nearly-bare back to settle on her ass.

  “Lot of real estate here,” he murmured as she heard him squirt lotion onto his hand.

  Oh my god, he’s going to touch me.

  She tensed, ready to call the whole thing off, but then his palm was there, spreading warm lotion onto her back. The only warning she got was a slight pull on the strings of her top and then it went loose, falling on either side of her body. He just untied my top. She blinked. “Forward of you.”

  “No point in doing a job unless you do it right.” His voice was lower than before, rumbling like the first stirrings of an earthquake. He smoothed his big hand down her spine again and then both hands were there, carefully rubbing the lotion into her skin. His callouses dragged over her skin, sending sparks of pleasure in their wake, and his strength was clear in every movement of his fingers against her tight muscles.

  I wasn’t prepared.

  This was a mistake.

  “Relax, Camilla. I’m not going to rip off your swimsuit and fuck you right here in front of god and everyone on the boardwalk.”

  “Cami.” The word escaped on a sound that was almost a whisper.

  He paused. “Hmm.”

  “I prefer Cami.”

  Luca started up again. He went back for more lotion and spent an inordinate amount of time on her shoulders and arms. Despite everything, she couldn’t help relaxing. It felt good. She couldn’t remember the last time someone touched her like this … If they ever had. She’d had boyfriends, sure, but if they weren’t too terrified of her brothers to pull any moves like this in public, the only time they used a back rub was as a quick prelude to other things.

  This …

  This felt like the main event.

  Luca stroked his hands down her sides, his fingers unabashedly tracing the sides of her breasts where they were pressed against the lounge chair. She shivered—she couldn’t help it—and he cursed softly. “You’re nothing but trouble.”

  “And yet I’m the one just lying here.”

  He snorted. “Bullshit.” Luca reached her hips and paused, his fingers resting lightly on the top edge of her swimsuit. When he spoke again, his voice was lower yet. Thick with desire. “Sun’s strong down here by the equator. Would be a shame for you to burn something sensitive.”

  He’s asking permission.

  She should say no. Should make her excuses and get the hell out of there. For all that she enjoyed provoking him, he wasn’t hers to seduce, and she certainly shouldn’t let him do the seducing, either.

  But there in that moment, she couldn’t quite make her lips form the correct words. The heat of the sun had soaked right down to her bones, the soft sound of the waves coming in intoxicated her, and the feeling of Luca’s hands on her body was too good to stop. Not yet. Just a little more. “It would be a shame, wouldn’t it?”

  “Mmhmm.” He stopped touching her long enough to get more lotion. She half expected him to start straight on her ass, but apparently Luca was intent on surprising her. He shifted back and began at her left ankle, working the lotion into her leg. Up and up he climbed, inch by inch, stopping at the lower curve of her ass.

  And then he moved to her right leg.

  Cami couldn’t breathe. He hadn’t touched her in any meaningful place and yet she was so turned on, she couldn’t think straight. Her blood pounded through her body, her muscles going soft, a throbbing need pulsing between her thighs. She pressed her forehead hard against the lounge chair, but the pressure was no match for Luca’s hands working ever upward on her right leg.

  Again, he stopped just as the lower curve of her ass.

  He dragged his thumbs on identical paths mirroring the swimsuit bottom. Low on her hips and down to her crease. “Beautiful.” She was one hundred percent certain he hadn’t meant to say that aloud, but Cami didn’t care. He couldn’t take it back. He massaged her ass, cupping and squeezing until she panted with need and parted her legs slightly. An invitation she wasn’t sure she’d meant to make, but she didn’t want to take back.

  Another of those delicious low curses that seemed dragged from his lips. “You were sent to torment me.”

  “Maybe.” Though she was the one being tormented. If he didn’t touch her soon …

  “I wonder.” He gripped her upper thighs and nudged them a little farther apart, lifting her ass the tiniest bit. “If I pulled this tease of a suit aside, would I find you wet and aching for me?”

  Now was the time to deescalate. To say something to spark his temper so he’d leave her in peace. “Look and find out.”

  “Wicked little thing, aren’t you?” He hooked her suit with his thumb and tugged it to the side. “Christ. I can see your need from here.”

  She shivered. “Touch me. Please.”

  “Nah, I don’t think so.” His hand shook, just a little, where he gripped her ass while he held her suit to the side with the other. She could feel his gaze there as if he’d stroked her.

  Pleasure coiled tightly through her, almost painful. “Please, Luca. Touch me.”

  “You’re an independent woman, and you’ve sure as fuck proven you don’t take orders from me. You want that orgasm you’re craving? To come quick and dirty right here with people up on that boardwalk not knowing the difference?”

  “Yes,” she practically sobbed the word.

  “Then take it.” He yanked her suit fully to the side, her body jerking with the force of the movement, and then she felt the weight of his hand an inch below her barely spread thighs. “Back up onto my hand. Use me.”

  She couldn’t. It was a step too far. She might want him in this moment, but this was a mistake.

  Cami slid back that inch that separated them, gasping when his big hand cupped her bare pussy. “Oh god.”

  “This doesn’t have anything to do with god, and you damn well know it. This is sin, pure and simple.” His voice went rough and tight and he lifted his fingers slightly, right against her clit. “Ride my hand. Take what you need.”

  She shouldn’t …

  But the thought had no weight here in this strange moment of in-between. Cami rocked back onto his hand and then forward. The slightest movement that sent a spiral of pleasure through her. She whimpered and did it again. This was so wrong. There were people right there.

  She couldn’t stop.

  Not with his low words reaching across the negligible distance between them, seeming to be pulled from him despite his best intentions. “Naughty girl, using me like this. You love that shit, don’t you? I could be anyone. Some schmuck who wandered over to help you lotion up, letting you grind on him while he thinks about taking you back to his villa to fuck you seven ways to Sunday.”

  This wasn’t happening because of some random guy, though. This was solely because of Luca, and the lure he exuded that she responded to despite herself. It was him touching her so intimately, flexing his fingers ever so slightly every time she rocked against them. Her breathe sobbed out. “It’s not enough. Too much. I don’t know.”

  “Don’t stop.” The command lashed her, and she thrust back against his touch, grinding herself hard against his palm.

  There. Yes. She gripped the sides of the lounge chair by her hair and bit her lip hard as she came. “Oh shit.” Cami closed her eyes and tried to focus on recovering. On figuring out how to get out of his situation gracefully.

  Luca flexed his fingers again.

  She moaned. She couldn’t help it.

&n
bsp; “Greedy girl,” he ground out. “You’d keep fucking my hand until the sun goes down, wouldn’t you? Grinding that sensitive little clit against my fingers, coming all over my palm.” He dragged his hand out from beneath her slowly, stroking her as he did. “Yeah, that’s exactly what you’d do. Have to wonder if you’d do the same on my mouth?” A sound, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’d just sucked his fingers, wet from her orgasm, into his mouth. “Fuck, Cami, but you’re something else.”

  “Thanks?” Was that her voice? So breathy and, yes, needy.

  She wanted more.

  The realization had her biting back a whimper. She had no business wanting this man. Wanting any man on this island. What had gotten into her?

  You know what.

  Or, rather, who.

  He must have seen her tense up, because he pulled her swimsuit back into place and then tied her top straps again, all business. “Dinner’s at six.”

  By the time she managed to lift her head, he was gone, just a figure striding up the sand to the walkway leading back to the casino. If her body wasn’t thrumming with pleasure and satisfaction from her orgasm, Cami almost could have convinced herself it never happened. Or that she didn’t desperately wanted it to happen again.

  Almost.

  5

  Cami took her time dressing for dinner. Even though the mirror told her otherwise, she couldn’t shake the feeling that her body still maintained the flush of her earlier orgasm. It felt tattooed on her skin, written for anyone who cared to look. She wanted to seek Luca out, to ask him how they’d gone from sniping at each other to that, but doing so meant showing her hand. The only protection she had at this point was the aloofness she gathered around herself like a cloak.

  She studied her gown. It was high-necked and white, though the back was mostly nonexistent. It flared from her hips and would kick out a little with each step she took, giving the impression she floated an inch above the ground. She had a closet full of dresses at home, but she’d very specifically chose the virginal ones for this trip. The ones designed to make her look young, innocent, and breakable.

  An enemy who underestimates you is an enemy you can beat.

  Yael’s gravelly words rolled through her and she pressed her hand to her chest. She missed that cranky old woman. Five summers spent in the Nibley country house and she felt closer to Lady Nibley than she had to most of her own family.

  She couldn’t win this without the training and knowledge Yael had imparted during those summers spent together.

  Cami took half a second to make sure her pink lipstick was in place and then she left her villa. Prolonging seeing Luca again wouldn’t make a single bit of difference in the Hunt, and she couldn’t risk being late and ending up disqualified before the games even began.

  Fifteen minutes later, she was led to the same room they’d had drinks three nights ago. Cami didn’t allow herself to pause in the doorway this time. She drifted into the room, vividly aware of eyes on her. No point in theorizing their impressions. It was clear to anyone who cared to look. Interest on a few of the men’s faces. Curiosity on one of the women’s.

  Two of the four low tables were fully occupied, leaving her with the options of the two women she’d seen the first night, or the dangerous-looking man with his sponsors who she’d overheard someone referencing as mob people. Russian or Irish or both—Cami hadn’t been quite clear on that. The fact the women were the only people seated at their table, though, told her everything she needed to know.

  The mob people were the lesser of two evils.

  She walked up to the empty chair and touched the back of it lightly. “Is this seat taken?”

  The woman glanced at her with interest. “Not at all. Sit.” Her husband made a low sound that might have been a laugh and she glanced at him. “What? The longer she stands there, the more likely she is to change her mind.”

  Curiosity flared and Cami slid into the empty seat. She extended her hand. “Camilla Fitzcharles.”

  “Fitzcharles of the Thalanian Fitzcharleses?” The woman took her hand and gave it a solid shake. “Keira. This is my husband, Dmitri.” She jerked her thumb at the man on her other side. “This is Liam. Not to be a total dick or anything, but he’s going to kick your ass in the Hunt.”

  Liam sighed. “Keira. Some tact wouldn’t be ill advised.”

  “Do you know how many favors we had to pull to get you into this thing? I don’t have to be tactful.”

  Cami laughed. She couldn’t help it. “They certainly don’t make it easy, do they?” She offered her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Liam. Even if the friendship won’t last the night.”

  He took Cami’s hand. He really was quite attractive, in the tall, dark, and handsome sort of way. Big, though not as big as Luca. Much more polished as well. This man was dangerous, but he didn’t beat a person over the head with that fact. He pressed a perfectly polite kiss to her knuckles. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

  She started to say something to keep the small talk going, but the door at the back of the room opened and all four Horsemen walked into the room. Death came first, wearing another suit that spoke of menswear but managed to be so feminine and sexy that it stole Cami’s breath. Next was War in another red gown that almost seemed made of liquid, clinging to her body sensuously. Pestilence and Luca moved as one, again reinforcing a familial resemblance that had nothing to do with the surface. It went soul deep.

  Death smiled, the expression making Cami’s stomach drop.

  It’s beginning.

  No going back now.

  Next to her, Liam’s breath hitched, and she managed to draw her gaze from the foursome to find him staring at War, some kind of recognition flaring in his dark eyes.

  It didn’t matter. She had to focus. She turned back as Death spoke, “Enjoy your last night of indulgence, my friends. The morning will find you in much less comfortable circumstances.” She motioned and a picture appeared on the wall behind her. It was a satellite image of the Island of Ys. The smaller one looked a little like a crab, it’s pinchers extending to create the bay both casinos and the boardwalk edged up against. The larger island was more crescent shaped. It housed some beaches, what looked to be cliffs, and much higher rolling hills.

  And jungle. Lots and lots of jungle.

  “Capture the White Stag within the seven-day time period and the prize is yours. Fail …” She shrugged. “Murder is not expressly condoned, but it’s a risk you take by participating. The White Stag will have a twelve-hour head start on you, but they will be entering the island with the same materials allowed the competitors. Limited rations. Water filter. A knife. A beacon that, when triggered, will be an automatic disqualification and an immediate extraction.”

  Cami noticed she didn’t say appropriate clothing. The sinking in her stomach got worse. On the surface, this seemed like every other Wild Hunt the Horsemen had hosted in the past, but she couldn’t shake the suspicion that another shoe was about to drop.

  Death didn’t make her wait long.

  “This year, however, is special. Our dearest War has proven herself more than a match for anyone who tries to best her.” There it was again, that cat-with-the-canary smile. “As such, we’ve decided to even the playing field.” Her dark gaze landed on Cami, the only warning she got before Death said, “And that’s why Princess Camilla Fitzcharles will play the part of White Stag in this year’s hunt.”

  Cami gripped the table in front of her, fighting against the sensation of falling. She kept her chin up, kept her gaze on Death. Even as she promised herself she wouldn’t do it, she looked at Luca, dreading finding a glare or a superior expression there.

  All she saw was shock.

  Shock and a growing rage.

  He moved to Death, grabbing her arm and speaking low in her ear. Whatever she said back was lost in the low murmur of the room. Death leaned back and looked at the spot where he held her with such menace that Luca dropped his hand. She turned back to the room
, reclaiming her smile. “As in years’ past, the betting will open at midnight. Good luck, my friends.”

  War wove through the tables and extended her hand to Cami. “Let’s go.”

  Because she’d need every second of head start to keep away from the people hunting her. Cami took the woman’s hand with numb fingers, allowing herself to be tugged to her feet. She could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on her, but it was nothing like before. They studied her for weakness, for something to exploit, for the key to unlock her—and their win.

  Even Liam, with his gruff smile and sweet introduction, was doing it.

  They would cut her down, and they wouldn’t think twice about it. She knew that. Of course she’d known that. But it felt different when they were all still on the same playing field, all still hunters.

  Now Cami was undeniably the prey.

  War didn’t speak until they were inside Cami’s villa. “Change while I talk. You don’t have much time.”

  Twelve hours could be a small eternity in certain scenarios, but the people hunting her were all highly motivated to see her taken down. Twelve hours was barely a drop in the ocean.

  Cami threw herself into motion. She stripped out of the gown and pulled out the backpack she’d put together before she left Thalania. It wasn’t large as such things went, only containing the allowed items and a change of clothes. She pulled on a pair of pants, boots, a sports bra and a tank top. The nights didn’t get particularly cold this time of year, but she had a jacket stashed just in case. She walked out of her room to find War waiting for her.

  The blonde took her in. “Okay, good. I was hoping you’d be at least a little prepared.” She worried her bottom lip. “Look, it’s nothing personal. Or, well, it’s mostly not personal. Death has her reasons.”

  Somehow, that didn’t make Cami feel the least bit better. She lifted her chin. “If I avoid them for the full seven days, I win the favor.” I win my freedom.

  Sympathy flared in War’s amber eyes. “You can try, little princess.”