Defending His Heart E-Book

Ember Casey

• Herausgeber: Ember Casey
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

The thrilling hunt for Rinaldi's treasure continues...

And no one's life—or heart—is safe.

Donovan has wanted his teammate Sloane for as long as he can remember. But is he willing to risk his team—and the greatest treasure they've ever pursued—for a woman with so many secrets? 


DEFENDING HIS HEART is Book 4 of the thrilling Devil's Set series by  USA Today bestseller Ember Casey.

Leseprobe

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Books by Ember

Author Note

The Devil's Set

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

Books by Ember

Defending His Heart

THE DEVIL’S SET

Book 4

EMBER CASEY

Copyright ©2020 Ember Casey

All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Cover designed by Cormar Covers

You can contact Ember at [email protected].

Website: http://embercasey.com.

BOOKS BY EMBER CASEY

THE DEVIL’S SET

Claiming His Treasure

Hunting His Jewel

Protecting His Prize

Defending His Heart

THE FONTAINES

The Secret to Seduction

The Sweet Taste of Sin

The Lies Between the Lines

The Mystery of You

The Thrill of Temptation

THE CUNNINGHAM FAMILY

His Wicked Games

Truth or Dare

Sweet Victory

Her Wicked Heart

Take You Away

Lost and Found

Completely (short story)

Their Wicked Wedding

A Cunningham Christmas

Their Wicked Forever

STANDALONE NOVELS

The Billionaire Escape Plan

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A NOTE FROM EMBER

This story includes references to pregnancy loss. As I know this is a delicate subject for some of my readers, I wanted to include a brief note here so that those who are especially sensitive to this heartbreaking situation may choose whether or not they wish to proceed.

Much love to you,

Ember

O’er the lands and o’er the seas

The Devil’s set of hunters goes

In search of gold and jewels like these;

The treasures that will tempt men’s souls

PROLOGUE

Málaga, Spain

Five Months Ago

The air smelled like oranges. That’s what Sloane Dillon would remember most about this place—how every breath tasted of that sweet, citrus tang, how it filled her up with that bright flavor of pure life.

She stood on a small balcony only just wide enough for a single person, her hands clasped gently around the wrought iron rail as she looked down at the street below. This wasn’t her first time in Spain, but it was her first time here in the port city of Málaga, and part of her felt like she’d come home. She’d always had restless feet, but something in this place whispered for her to stay.

“Stay.”

The deep voice behind her filled her with so many twisted feelings—hope and sorrow, regret and longing. But it was that last emotion that swelled through her now, bolstered by that bright-sweet scent of life carried on the Mediterranean breeze. She felt so light, so buoyant, that her very skin tingled with it. And so she turned, slowly, letting herself lean into that longing the way she might lean into the warmth of a fire.

Donovan Kruger—her teammate, her dearest friend—stood just inside the door, watching her with those intense, dark eyes of his. Some people found him intimidating with those wide shoulders and that hard jaw, but he’d never frightened her. And those eyes…she didn’t know what it was about those eyes, but something happened every time they looked at her. Something that made her dizzy, made her heart beat faster.

“I can’t stay,” she said softly. “You know that.” They both did. The day that Roth had brought her in to the Devil’s Set, he’d made one thing clear to the entire team: no one was to touch her. If they did, for any reason, they’d be kicked out of the Set. Or worse. Roth had made all of them swear an oath on it, one after another. They may have been treasure hunters—and therefore willing to break any number of international laws—but among these men, an oath like that was as strong as blood.

Sloane had found Roth’s rule a welcome one at the time, especially given her history. It had made her feel safe as the only woman among all these men. Now, though…

Donovan hadn’t moved. Given his sheer size and breadth he was an imposing physical barrier, but that wasn’t why her feet remained glued to the tiled floor of the balcony. She stood with her back against the rail, trying to find the will to move, but those dark eyes kept her pinned in place.

“I have to go,” she insisted, her voice even softer than before. Back to my room. To safety and sanity.

“I know.” This time he took a step forward. “I’m not stopping you.”

She knew he would let her pass if she tried. He’d let her walk by him, never touching, and out that door. To her own room, where she belonged.

She couldn’t even explain to herself why she’d come to his room in the first place. The Set had just finished up another successful hunt, and most of the others were off celebrating at one of the bars on the next street. Donovan—who’d never been one for drinking—had stayed in. And Sloane had claimed to have a headache, completely intending to call it an early night.

Instead, she’d ended up here. And even though she knew what she risked, she hadn’t been able to keep herself away.

He took another step toward her, and now he was on the threshold of the balcony, his skin shining like dark bronze in the last rays of the sun. Even his thick, almost wiry hair caught the light, the dark strands briefly glinting like dying embers as he stepped out of the shadows.

They’d been teammates for over two years now, and she still couldn’t put her finger on exactly the moment it had begun—when they’d gone from teammates to friends, and then from friends to something beyond. The shift had been so subtle, so slow, that she hadn’t noticed it until it was too late to do anything about it—a glance, a brush of the arm, and somehow everything had changed.

How did you defend against something like that?

“Sloane.”

It sent a little thrill through her, hearing her name on his lips. But she tried to crush it down.

“I’m going back to my room,” she told him.

But still she didn’t move, even though he was reaching out to her now. His fingers gently grazed her bare arm, trailing from her shoulder down toward her elbow.

“I won’t stop you,” he told her again. “But I want you to stay.”

“If Roth finds out—”

“I know the consequences,” he told her in that deep rumble. “And I don’t care.”

She cared. She didn’t want to be the reason that Donovan lost his place here in the Set. She knew how much this team meant to him, what he’d found among the brotherhood here. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—cost him that.

But she also saw the look in his eyes, knew that no argument would change his mind. Her only option was to walk away, to go back to her room and forget the shivery thrill that ran beneath her skin.

“Why did you come here?” he asked. “Not simply to stare off my balcony, I assume?”

She wished she could answer that. She wished she could explain—to herself, not just to him—why now, after all these days and weeks, she was actually considering crossing the line she’d promised herself she’d never cross again. She’d made a similar mistake before, in another time and place, and she still bore the scars from it.

She blamed the oranges. The wild, fragrant, tangy oranges that invaded her senses and made everything so much more vivid.

“Why do you want me to stay?” she asked him in lieu of answering his question.

His eyes never wavered from her. “Maybe I’m tired of fighting it.”

“That doesn’t mean you should stop trying. You should keep fighting until—” Her voice cut off as his fingers curled around her upper arm.

“If that’s how you feel, then why did you come here?” he asked her again. “And why haven’t you left?”

She didn’t have an answer for that. God help her, she didn’t.

His eyes finally dropped from her face, falling down her body to the tiled floor of the balcony beneath them. There wasn’t room for both of them out here. Not unless they were tangled together like one person.

“Sloane.” His voice was thick like syrup, melodious in a way that reflected his childhood on the outskirts of London. Every once in a while, there was the hint of something else, too—a touch of the South African accent he’d picked up from his father, or even bits of an American cadence that had developed during his time among the Set. His voice was beautiful. “Sloane, if you want to leave, then I need you to leave.” There was something tight in his voice, like a stone on the verge of cracking. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold myself back.”

He raised his eyes again, and if she’d thought his gaze was intense before, it was nothing compared to the maelstrom she saw in his eyes now. She knew something of the scars on his soul, knew what he risked by even considering this. And she knew he was not only losing the battle, but that it was already lost.

And the maelstrom caught her, too. She felt herself being dragged in, caught in the swirling tides, tugged forward no matter how much her mind fought against that wild current. Donovan’s hand moved up her arm again, skimming across her skin, gliding over her shoulder to cradle the side of her throat.

And still she remained frozen.

You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this again, she thought desperately. She’d been down this road before—fallen for the man she shouldn’t, let herself be dragged under his spell, and she’d paid the consequences for her actions.

There would be consequences for this, too. She knew it in her soul. And yet she didn’t pull away, not even when his head dipped down toward hers.

Maybe he was right. Maybe the time for fighting this was past. Maybe this was inevitable. After all, she was the one who’d come to his room, for reasons that still weren’t clear to her. She was the one who refused to leave, even though she knew she should.

And she was the one who tipped her face up, slanting her mouth to meet his.

That first touch of his lips nearly toppled her. It was gentle, a shiver of a whisper of a breath, as light as a butterfly’s wing. He was testing the waters, perhaps, waiting to see if their world would come crumbling down around them the moment they crossed this line.

But the world stayed as it was, wild and wicked and heady with the scent of oranges.

His next kiss wasn’t nearly so soft.

She heard herself gasp against him as his mouth met hers again, more passionately this time, demanding and pleading all at once. There was something hard behind this kiss, something desperate, but she wasn’t sure whether that desperation was coming from Donovan or her.

She only knew she needed more.

He pressed her back against the balcony rail, his arm snaking around her, and any lingering thoughts she had of leaving slipped away on the Mediterranean breeze. There was no turning back now. No denying the hunger that had been building, slowly but steadily, over the weeks and months. Now she was ravenous, and Donovan was offering her hungry heart exactly what it desired.

She would have given herself to him right there on the balcony, in full view of the street below. In that moment, she didn’t care about propriety. She didn’t care that they might get caught. She didn’t care about her past, or any possible future consequences. There was only this moment.

Both of Donovan’s arms were around her now. And he was lifting her, hoisting her up against his chest as if she weighed nothing at all, carrying her back into the room. To the bed.

If she was being honest with herself, she’d known the moment she’d walked through his door that she would end up here. But she hadn’t imagined it would feel like this, sweet and dangerous and magical at once, like a wicked dream.

Donovan’s lips tasted like the air of this place—heady and citrus. His hands were hot, roaming over her body like twin flames, leaving a scorching trail of desire in their wake.

He pulled her shirt over her head. Slid her jeans down her legs. Piece by piece, he stripped her last barriers away until there was nothing left, until she was naked before those dark eyes.

He lifted his head then, let himself drink in the sight of her, and though a distant voice in her head whispered that she should be ashamed—that she’d done it again, and that she’d pay for her sins—it was easy enough to ignore beneath that gaze. It was easy enough to push aside the fears about what Roth would do if he ever found out about this. The maelstrom in Donovan’s eyes still churned, but it was tempered by a different emotion now, one that made her breath catch in her throat.

But before she could analyze it too closely, he looked away from her again. He made quick work of his clothes, throwing them aside until he was as bare as she was.

She’d seen him nearly naked before—a side effect of their work together. But this was different.

Her hands reached up, her fingers finding the hard planes of his chest. She’d known he was magnificent, but she’d never allowed herself to appreciate it before.

For a moment he remained as he was, poised above her and still, letting her explore. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes, a glimmer at the edges of the maelstrom, and it made her heart swell even more, knowing he was enjoying her enjoying him.

It wasn’t long, though, before the muscles in his arms began to tremble, and she knew it strained him to hold himself back. So she looped her arms around him, pulling him down on top of her.

He didn’t need to be urged twice. His mouth attacked hers once more, and she succumbed to him, sinking beneath the weight of him, the scent of him, the heat of him.

There will be consequences, her mind continued to protest. There’s no going back from this. But it was done, the decision made. She clung to Donovan, her only anchor against the turmoil, and refused to let go.

When he slipped inside her, there was a part of her that felt as if he’d belonged there all along. But even as her body arched and quivered in the carnal joy of this long-awaited union, that voice in her head never quieted.

Just this once, she promised herself, her fingers curling against Donovan’s back. Just this once, this one night. This is all I want. Tomorrow she’d be stronger. Tomorrow she’d make the right choices again. Surely she could have this one night, one mistake.

She squeezed her eyes shut, clinging to Donovan, and let the scent of oranges carry her away.

CHAPTER ONE

London, England

The Devil’s Set Headquarters

Present Day

One hundred and eleven days. That was how long it had been since Donovan Kruger had spoken to Sloane. Since any member of the Devil’s Set had spoken to her, or heard even a whisper of where she might be. One hundred and eleven days since she’d disappeared without a trace, and instead of hunting for her, he was being forced to deal with this bullshit.

The platinum-haired woman sitting in front of them crossed one leg over the other, a smug smile on her red lips.She was almost aggressively polished from head to toe, from her airbrushed face to her designer shoes. “Well? Don’t you boys have any response to what I’ve just told you?”

Donovan glanced over at his teammate. Leonardo “Leo” Moretti was mostly a level-headed fellow—or at least he had been, before chasing a girl around the Caribbean and getting shot a couple of times—but even he looked unsettled by their surprise visitor. They’d been the only ones here at the Set’s private headquarters when Alyssa Berry herself had appeared at their door, strutting into their lives on four-inch stilettos and complicating what was already the most complicated treasure hunt of their lives.

Alyssa Berry. The fiancée of the late Vincent Rinaldi, the eccentric billionaire who’d hidden his fortune in pieces all over the world. This was the biggest hunt the Set had ever attempted to tackle, and it was proving far more dangerous and twisted than any of them had anticipated.

How did this woman find us? Does she even know who we are? Or what we’ve been doing? The Set didn’t exactly advertise their services, especially when tens of millions of dollars were on the line. And they certainly didn’t share the address of their private headquarters. But here she was, sitting across from them and making all sorts of dangerous claims.

Alyssa twirled a strand of platinum hair around her finger. There was a certain air to her, a poise that often accompanied those who know their place in the food chain and had every confidence they’d get everything they wanted. This woman knew exactly what she was doing, which is why they had to be careful.

“I’m waiting, boys,” she said. “Are you always this slack-jawed around a pretty woman, or do I simply bring out the worst in you?”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you want from us,” Donovan said. While Leo sat behind the desk, he stood to the side, instinctively bracing himself for a fight.

Alyssa focused her gaze on him, batting her unnaturally thick lashes. Her eyes were an odd, almost violet color, probably enhanced by colored contacts.

“I think you understand me quite clearly,” she said. “I’m here to collect what’s mine. Now, are you boys going to help me or are we going to be enemies?”

Her tone was almost flirtatious, and Donovan had no doubt it would have worked on many men. There was no denying she was beautiful. He knew from his team’s research that she was pushing forty, but she looked at least ten years younger than that, with her flowing hair and skin that had probably seen its fair share of diamond-speckled face creams. She had the sort of looks he would have loved to sketch when he was a younger man.

These days, though, her particular brand of “beauty” did nothing for him. He craved a different sort of woman—one who many men would overlook.

Sloane. She’d always had a tendency to hide herself behind messy hair and glasses and large books, but there was something infinitely intriguing about her, something that had gotten under his skin and haunted his dreams—even more so in the one hundred and eleven days since she’d disappeared.

And now this gold digger is keeping me from going after her. This morning he’d received a tip from one of his contacts. It was probably just another dead end—there’d been so many bloody dead ends in his search for Sloane—but he didn’t care. He’d keep searching if it killed him. He just had to get this woman out of the way.

“How is it you believe we can help you?” Donovan asked, unable to keep the edge from his voice. He didn’t have time for this shit. He had a train to catch.

Alyssa laughed. It was a practiced sound, though Donovan thought he detected some real amusement in it. “I’m not here to play games. I know exactly who you are and what you’re doing.” She glanced between him and Leo, who was uncharacteristically quiet. “You work for a man named Lucas Roth. He’s leading you on an expedition to recover the fortune my late fiancé left for me.”

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” Donovan told her. “We have no knowledge of any of this.”

Her gaze sharpened. “I’m not a fool. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t treat me like one.” She stood. Even though she was wearing those ridiculous stilettos, she still barely came to Donovan’s shoulder. “I came here to negotiate in good faith. If you have no interest in doing that, then I’m happy to go straight to the police.”

“Now hold on there,” Leo chimed in finally. “Let’s see if we can’t work something out. Please, Ms. Berry, have a seat. Can we get you something to drink? Some tea?”

“Tea would be lovely.” A satisfied smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she lowered herself into her chair once more. Donovan shot a look at Leo. What was he thinking, entertaining this woman? They had more important concerns at the moment—Sloane being at the top of that list.

I have to find her. A lot could happen in one hundred and eleven days—especially to someone in their line of work. If something had happened to her… If she’d been kidnapped, or hurt in any way…

Just the possibility infuriated him. He’d let that anger boil and stew inside him, fueling him through the sleepless nights. Life had taken so much from him already. He refused to let it take Sloane, too.

If anything has happened to her, I’ll personally track down each and every man involved and make him pay. That was the promise that had driven him through these weeks of searching, of following every hint and whisper of her across Europe. Twice now he believed he’d come close to finding her, only to lose the scent of her again. It was like chasing a shadow.

“I’ll take some Earl Grey,” Alyssa said.

Donovan realized she and Leo were looking at him. Scowling, he stalked into the kitchen.

I don’t have time for this bullshit. Every day that passed, every moment that slipped away, the guilt ate at him. It wasn’t that he felt responsible for her disappearance, not exactly…but at the same time, he couldn’t shake the niggling fear that he was partially to blame.

Things had been strange and awkward between him and Sloane after that night in Málaga when he'd let things go too far. They’d both agreed that it was best to pretend that nothing had ever happened, but he hadn’t expected such a chasm to open up between them during the weeks that had followed. There’d been nearly two months between that night in Málaga and the day she’d disappeared. Maybe, if he hadn’t allowed such distance to stretch between them…

Cursing at himself, he slammed the kettle down on the stove.

The Set was falling apart around him, and he felt so damn useless. Over the past few months, members of the Devil’s Set had been disappearing one by one. First there was Tavish. Then Sloane. And then only this morning they’d received word that two more had gone missing on the team’s recent expedition to Yellowstone National Park in the U.S.—Charlie, a recent addition to their ranks, and Roth, their leader. Without this team—without brothers he trusted with his life, or the woman who haunted his dreams at night—then what did he have?

He’d carry Alyssa out of here over his shoulder if he had to. God help her if she got in his way.

Steaming mug of Earl Grey in his hand, he stalked back out into the parlor.

While he’d been gone, Alyssa had made herself comfortable. She lounged back in her armchair like it was a throne, looking perfectly at ease.

“There you are,” she said, beckoning him with a flick of her wrist. “That’s a good boy.”

Only a warning look from Leo kept Donovan from making good on his mental threat to throw her out of the room. He could read the concern in his teammate’s eyes—whatever Donovan’s feelings about this woman, Leo clearly saw her as a big problem. One they couldn’t just ignore. He shoved the tea into her hands and took up his position at Leo’s side once more, braced and ready for anything.

“Now,” Alyssa said, curling her hands around the mug. “Where were we? Ah, that’s right—you fellows were going to agree to deliver my fortune to me.”

Donovan fought down the growl that had risen in his throat. “And why is it you believe we know where this fortune is?”

“Oh, please. Can we just drop this charade?” She batted her dark lashes. “We all know the story already. My fiancé left me all of his worldly possessions. And yet somehow before he died he forgot to inform me that he’d hidden the most valuable of those possessions all around the globe.” She gave a little titter of a laugh. “Vinnie was absent-minded like that. Brilliant man, but often he’d forget the most important things.” A shadow passed across her eyes—so briefly that Donovan thought he might have imagined it—but then that smug smile was spreading across her lips again. “Fortunately, you gentlemen were kind enough to puzzle out the truth. I only wonder why no one ever thought to tell me.” She blew across her steaming tea.

“We’re under no obligation to tell anyone anything,” Leo said carefully. He was doing a much better job than Donovan at maintaining his patience. “We simply came across some information—that we acquired through completely legal means—and interpreted it to the best of our abilities.”

“Completely legal?” Alyssa raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I’ll grant you that you purchased my Vinnie’s personal effects fair and square. But let’s not pretend you haven’t since participated in some less-than-savory activities.” She sipped at her tea. “Legally, the items he hid on this little treasure hunt of his still belong to me, per his will. I challenge you to find any court who will rule otherwise.”

Donovan wasn’t sure if that was the absolute truth, but he wasn’t willing to challenge it. On the other hand, he also wasn’t willing to just hand over their spoils to this woman. Not only would Roth strangle them, but Donovan had no interest in rewarding this woman for delaying his search for Sloane.

Leo drummed his fingers against the desk. He’d been remarkably calm and collected during this conversation so far, but it was clear he was edging toward his limits.