Mastered by Malone (Haven Texas Book 6) Read online

  5

  She carried the dirty linen from her bed and Alec’s down the stairs. She probably should have made two trips, but she couldn’t be bothered walking up and down the stairs all the time. She was feeling tired as hell these days. She knew it was because she wasn’t sleeping—or eating. The nightmares were still plaguing her. And, even worse, she was about to run out of her meds. Which meant having to go to Alec to talk about getting more. Shit. She really didn’t want to do that.

  Maybe it was time she went off the meds anyway. Surely, she could do without them. Perhaps. Oh, hell. She wished she could talk to her cousin. She’d spoken to Jardin a few times and he’d told her Mike was worried about her but otherwise fine.

  She heaved up the pile of linen, determined to wash it all today. Most of it smelled a bit musty. She wondered how long it had been since it had all been washed.

  Mia took a step and stood on the hem of her pants. She immediately dropped the linen, trying to grab for the railing to keep herself from falling, but her fingertips slid off the wooden banister as she flung forward. She tensed, letting out a cry of alarm as she waited for her body to hit the stairs. But instead of slamming against wood, she came up against a hard chest. The person who caught her, let out an oomph as they braced themselves against the banister to keep them both from flying.

  She took in a shaky breath. Then another one. She didn’t want to look up. She knew it wasn’t West or Jaret or Tanner who’d caught her.

  She knew it was him and she did not want to look up.

  He just held her against his chest for a long moment. Her feet weren’t even touching the ground, they just dangled in the air. She had the crazy thought that she could just snuggle in against him as though they were cuddling.

  Then he set her down. Disappointment hit her hard.

  Stupid.

  She took a step back. “Sorry about that. Thanks for catching me.” She tried to move around him, but he grabbed hold of her shoulders, holding her there. “Umm, Malone? You okay?”

  Why wasn’t he saying anything? She risked a look up into his face, saw how tense his jaw was. He was glaring down at her. Was he mad?

  “Uh, is there something wrong?”

  “Something wrong?” he repeated.

  “Yes, is there something wrong?”

  Silence.

  “You’re. . .um. . .acting odd. Did I hurt you?”

  “Hurt me?”

  Why was he repeating everything she said? “Did I hurt you? When I fell against you.”

  “Did you hurt me? Hurt me? Fuck.” He stared down at her. Then he moved one hand to cup the side of her face, wrapped his arm around her back and pulled her in to kiss her.

  And, oh, boy, what a kiss it was. Her body sizzled from the tip of her toes all the way up to her hair. He didn’t just kiss her, he possessed her. He took complete control and all she could do was hang on for the ride.

  When he drew back, she couldn’t help but make a small sound of protest. She wanted more. Needed it. But instead of kissing her again, he swung her into his arms, one under her legs, the other around her back, and he turned, carrying her downstairs.

  “What are you doing?” she asked. She wrapped her arms around his neck, terrified he was going to drop her. But he didn’t even show a hint of strain as he carried her straight into his office and then set her down on the leather sofa that lay in front of the fireplace. He started to pace back and forth, and she just sat there for a moment, watching him, taking him in.

  Her lips still tingled, and her clit throbbed. Damn, if that’s what it felt like to kiss him, what would it be like to take things further? To have him touch her, taste her, take her?

  She cleared her throat. She got that he was angry. She just wasn’t sure why. She inched her way forward on the sofa, ready to stand. He must’ve seen her movements because he turned around and pointed a finger at her.

  “Stay.”

  She ground her teeth together. She wasn’t a damn dog. Her heart was still racing from her near miss. And that kiss. What the heck did that kiss mean? She had no idea. All she knew was that right now, the last thing she wanted or needed was an Alec Malone lecture.

  “Thanks for catching me,” she said. “But I need to go tidy up the mess I made. I’ve got to get the sheets in the wash. And I’m gonna be late getting dinner started if I don’t get a move on.”

  He moved closer, his hands on his hips as he loomed over her. “You fell down the stairs.”

  “Yes, well, I just tripped. I’m sure I would have been all right. Sure, I might have had a couple of bruises—”

  “You tripped halfway down the stairs,” he interrupted her. “You could have broken a leg or an arm or hit your head or anything. This has to end.”

  “What has to end?” she asked.

  “This habit you have of getting yourself into trouble,” he snapped back at her. “Why the hell were you trying to carry your weight in linen down the stairs? You couldn’t see anything. You didn’t even see me coming up the stairs.”

  “I thought I could get it all down in one go. And I tripped because my pants keep slipping down. And I don’t make it a habit of getting into trouble, you know. Do you think I wanted to fall? Do you think I want all these things happen to me?”

  How could he go from kissing her to scolding her like a naughty teenager caught out after curfew?

  He blew out a deep breath. “You need to take more care. No more carrying heavy things down the stairs. Got it?”

  “This a new rule, is it?”

  His jaw was tense as he glared down at her. “Yes. Another rule. And why are you even doing the washing? Your job is to cook. It’s not to clean my grandmother’s lamp. It’s not to hang out the washing. It’s not to wash all the linen. It’s to cook. And it’s to do as I tell you. I am in charge of your safety and I will get you to that damn trial in one piece, even if no one told me the biggest risk to you would be you.”

  She looked up at him for a moment. All right, so obviously that kiss hadn’t meant much to him. Certainly it didn’t mean he cared about her.

  She stood. Not her home. Not her family. She needed to remember that. “Fine. Sorry for overstepping my bounds. I’ll get out of your way.”

  She got to the door when he called out to her.

  “Yes?” She turned back to look at him. Maybe he was going to apologize for being a jerk. Miracles did happen, right?

  “Your pants are slipping because you’ve lost weight. You need to eat more. You need clothes that fit better.”

  “Is that it? Nothing else you want to add that you find lacking about me? Maybe my hair? Or my makeup?”

  “You don’t wear any makeup.”

  Awesome. She guessed he liked curvy girls who dressed with style and were made-up from the minute they got up until they went to bed. Not walking disasters who tripped over their own pants.

  He moved over and sat at his desk. “If that’s all, I have work to do.”

  Damn, he was an ass.

  Alec walked over to his whiskey and poured a drink, taking a sip. At this rate, by the time the damn trial rolled around, he was going to be an alcoholic. His hand shook and he looked down at it in shock. After the things he’d seen and done, he thought it would take much more than this to make him tremble. To make his gut clench in fear. But seeing her stumble, watching her flying through the air, the worry that he wouldn’t make it up there in time to catch her, yeah, he’d realized he did have something to fear.

  He feared failing to keep her safe.

  And it wasn’t even the hit man who was the biggest threat to her health at this stage. It was her. He sat on the sofa and took a deep breath. She was going to be the death of him. He could still feel her lips against his, still had the taste of her in his mouth.

  Fuck. What had he been thinking, kissing her? He knew as soon as he’d kissed her that it was the wrong move. But he’d been scared. Scared he wouldn’t be quick enough and she’d fall and hurt herself. Fear wasn’t so
mething he was used to, and he didn’t cope well with it.

  He should probably apologize. He also needed her to stop staring at him like she wanted him to fuck her. His control had slipped, and he’d kissed her, if it happened again who knew how far things would go. So, instead of chasing after her and apologizing for being the world’s biggest ass, he sat on his sofa and sipped his whiskey, wishing like hell he’d never agreed to this in the first place.

  6

  Mia sat in the small living room she’d commandeered as her own. This house was just begging for a family to live in it. To have kids running around, filling up the eight bedrooms. For some reason it felt like the house was as lonely as she was.

  It was crazy to feel alone when she could walk over to the bunkhouse and have plenty of company. It was poker night. She could join in. She had an open invitation. But she just didn’t think she could handle all of them right now and Jaret was with his girlfriend in town.

  She wished she could call Mike. Her cousin was the only person she had left in her life. The only person who loved her. After her parents had died, she’d gone to live with her aunt and uncle. Her uncle had been away a lot and her aunt, well, calling her cold was an understatement. She’d always done her best to remind Mia that she was a burden. A responsibility. That she wasn’t family.

  The only person who’d ever treated her like family was Mike. She’d often wondered how such a kind man had come from such a mean woman. Not that she’d ever said that to Mike.

  She worried at her lower lip. Maybe she should ask Alec if she could call him. He never said she couldn’t call, just that she couldn’t do it without his permission.

  Except she’d made a vow never to talk to him again. Okay, that wasn’t going to be possible, but she was going to do her best to stay away from him. She tapped her pen against the pad of paper in her hand, looking down at her list with a frown. The only reason she was making one was because she didn’t want him sending one of his brothers to pick up whatever they thought she might need. She’d probably end up with twenty pairs of G-strings.

  “Warning: the next story contains some disturbing images of the victims of a mass bombing in the. . . ” The rest of the announcement faded out as she reached frantically for the remote. But she was too late, the images flicked up on the screen.

  She sucked a breath in, trying to stave off the black creeping into her vision. Spots danced in front of her eyes. Her hand fumbled the remote. Her fingers and toes grew numb, her lungs were starved for oxygen. She slid down, off the couch and curled in on herself, her head on her bent legs, her arms over the back of her head.

  She couldn’t breathe.

  “Mia! Fuck, Mia.” The words barely penetrated. She flushed hot then cold. “Mia, it’s all right. You’re okay. You’re safe. Just breathe. In and out.”

  She tried. She really did. But her throat was so constricted, air didn’t want to make its way in.

  Then she felt herself being moved. And her stomach instantly protested.

  “Breathe for me, baby. You’re safe. You’re safe.”

  But it wasn’t lack of air that was the problem now, it was the nausea bubbling in her gut. Vomit. She was going to vomit. She opened her mouth to warn Alec, right as she threw up all over herself and him. Immediately, she started to sob. That breath she’d been fighting for entered her lungs then left on a huge wail.

  “Oh, God. I’m so sorry. Oh, God.”

  “Sh, baby. Hush. Don’t cry. Fuck. Please, don’t cry. It’s all right. I’ve had worse.”

  “W-worse?” she asked in a trembling voice as he carried her out of the room and down the hallway. Instead of heading for the downstairs bathroom he carried her upstairs. “How could there be w-worse?”

  “Hush, Mia.”

  “You’re going to get vomit everywhere—”

  “Hush, Mia.”

  “You should put me down and strip. I’m so—”

  “Hush, Mia. I’m not going to tell you again.” His voice was soft but there was a hint of steel running through it.

  And so she hushed. After all, she’d just vomited all over the man, the least she could damn well do was shut up.

  Another quiet sob left her mouth as he carried her into his bedroom. The scent of him was stronger in here. Not a bad scent. Not at all. It was masculine. He smelled like the outdoors. Sometimes she wished she could wrap herself up in that scent.

  Mortification warred with the lingering traces panic. Oh, God, he’d seen her in the middle of a panic attack. And she’d vomited all over him.

  How was she ever going to look him in the face again?

  He sat her on the counter in his bathroom. It was done in gray tile with white fixtures. It was simple, masculine, and it suited him.

  “Wait there,” he told her. Then he moved over to the huge, walk-in shower, turning on the water. She took the opportunity to slide off the counter. She knew he didn’t really want her here. She’d just go back to her room and clean herself off, climb into bed, and try to forget that this ever happened.

  Yeah. Good luck with that.

  “Mia. Freeze.”

  She stilled at the doorway.

  “Jesus, I have never met a sub who had a harder time following direct orders.”

  She got the feeling he was talking to himself, but she couldn’t help but comment as he grabbed hold of her and started to pull off her sweatshirt.

  “I’m not a sub.”

  “You spend your days trying your best to keep everyone happy, to give them what they need, usually at the expense of yourself.”

  He had her sweatshirt and T-shirt off quickly and was crouching in front of her to remove her pants. She was so caught up in thinking over what he’d just said that she didn’t even notice him stripping her down to her bra and panties.

  “That doesn’t mean I want to . . . that I’m interested . . .”

  “You practically salivated when I talked about my paddles.”

  “I did not!” Fuck. I almost did.

  He just gave her a knowing look. “Don’t try to fool me, little girl. We both know you’re very interested.” He shook his head. “This is a damn stupid idea.”

  “What is?”

  He just studied her for a moment. Then he took off his shirt and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Got to do better than this.”

  “I don’t understand anything of what you’re saying,” she wailed. “I’ve just had a panic attack, vomited all over us, and now I’m standing in your bathroom in nothing but my underwear while you’re distracting me with all those abs and skin and whatever . . . so if you want me to understand what you’re saying, you’re going to have to lay it all out.”

  He cupped her face between his wide hands, and she realized she was trembling. After effects. Mostly after a panic attack, she crashed into bed exhausted. Of course, she was usually alone. And she’d never thrown up on someone in the midst of one.

  First time for everything. Yay.

  “Sh, Mia. It’s all going to be okay.”

  “It’s not. It’s really not. My life is shit.”

  “Don’t swear, baby.”

  “Don’t call me baby.”

  He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. Then he did the best thing ever. He held her. Just held her. Even though the shower was steaming up the bathroom.

  He held her.

  He ran his hand up and down her back. A quiet murmur of reassurance reached her ears every so often, but for the most part they just stood there. And gradually she became aware she wasn’t shaking as much. The coldness that usually engulfed her during one of these attacks was being replaced by heat. So much heat.

  She tried to pull back. To her surprise he let her move.

  “I should . . . I should go use my bathroom.” She shouldn’t be there. With him. Both of them partly naked. It was a bad, bad idea. A man like Alec Malone wasn’t for her. He’d chew her up and spit her out and they both knew it. In fact, he already kind of had. Several times.


  He didn’t pull punches. He could be a little mean.

  And she really wanted to bury her head against his chest and feel his arms wrap around her again.

  “You should. But you’re not going to.”

  “What?” She stared up at him in surprise. Her brain wasn’t working properly. It was full of cotton, something that was pretty normal for her after a panic attack. What wasn’t normal was ending up half-naked with a man.

  “Mia, you just had a panic attack. You couldn’t breathe. Then you threw up. I can’t leave you on your own right now,” he answered her patiently.

  Oh. Right. He just wanted to make sure she was all right. That was nice, she guessed.

  Too bad she didn’t really want nice. She’d rather have hot. Have him declare he couldn’t resist her. That he’d been wanting to do this ever since she’d arrived on his doorstep. He needed to ravage her. Possess her.

  Damn, you’ve got an overactive imagination.

  “It’s okay, I’m used to being alone after an attack. I’ll just have a shower and go to bed.” She looked around the bathroom then down at herself. “My clothes.”

  “Are in the hamper. They need to be washed.”

  “Right . . . right . . . do that tomorrow.”

  “Mia, look at me.”

  She couldn’t quite figure out why she wasn’t moving. She should head to her own bathroom, shower then sleep. Or maybe just sleep. She wanted a shower, but she didn’t know how she was going to manage it.

  He grabbed hold of her chin, raising her face so he could look at her.

  “You’re really beautiful,” she told him.

  Whoops.

  He smiled. Actually smiled. Alec Malone didn’t smile much. Not that she ever saw anyway.

  “You shouldn’t smile.”

  “What?” he asked, looking surprised. Why wouldn’t he? She was making absolutely no sense.

  “When you smile you go from beautiful to irresistible. Shit. Didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

  “Honey, you’re not yourself. And I’m not leaving you alone like this. So your choices are a shower with me then bed or I run you a bath and you have one while I shower then bed.”