My Cruel Salvation Read online

  He felt small then, and alone. He wanted her arm back around him. “I know. I won’t.”

  “Good.”

  He heard the relief in her voice. He hesitated, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking the question. “It’s not really love, is it?”

  Her throat moved as she swallowed. “No. It’s not. And you’re too smart for your own good.”

  He smiled because he knew that’s what she wanted. But he didn’t feel smart. If he were smart, he would know how to make her not be scared. He’d know how to not be scared himself. He sat up straighter as an idea occurred to him. “Don’t tell me anything else about my momma,” he said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because it might make him mad. And people get dead when he gets mad.”

  “Alex … you should know about her.”

  He nodded slowly. “Okay. But if he finds out, I’ll protect you. I was too little to protect her, but I can protect you. I will. I promise.”

  He saw fresh tears in her eyes as she smiled. “You’re a good boy, and you’re going to grow into a good man.” Her voice caught as she continued. “You’re going to be just like your daddy. Strong and powerful and—”

  “You fucking bitch.”

  Alex froze. He hadn’t seen his father step in through the kitchen doorway. Aurelia must have, though. That was why she’d said that. But it didn’t help. With his father, nothing ever helped.

  “You telling that boy about the kind of man he’s going to be? You think because you spread your legs for me that gives you the right to talk to my son like you know who he is?”

  “I—no, Daniel. We were just—”

  “Fucking little whore. That’s all you’re good for. That’s all any woman is good for, Alejandro. You remember that. You remember the day this worthless bitch sat her cunt self beside you and tried to tell you what kind of man you would be. You’ll be the man I tell you to be. The kind of man you should be. Not some pussy with a woman’s ways. You hear me, boy?”

  He lifted his chin, forcing himself not to look at Aurelia, because if he did, he might cry. “Yes, sir.”

  “Simpering little bitch is sitting here telling you you’re special, isn’t that right?”

  “I—” He swallowed, unsure what to say.

  “You,” The Wolf said to Aurelia. “Get out of here.”

  She nodded, shot a quick glance toward Alex, then bolted toward the kitchen.

  “Special.” His father’s lip curled into a snarl. “You aren’t special, boy. You could be, but you have to work for it. Grow into it. You’re nothing until you do that. You have to make something of yourself. You have to grow your legacy like I did. Grow it bigger than mine. Prove yourself, just like I did with what your grandfather left me, and his father before him. Your great-grandfather started out running alcohol over the border during Prohibition. One of the Tequila People they called him. But he was more than that, and so was his son, my father.”

  Alex swallowed and nodded.

  “Now I have surpassed them both. I’ve grown those tiny seeds of a business into an empire.”

  “Yes, Father.”

  “You must do even better, Alejandro. You must make me proud. Until you do that—until you make your own way—you are nothing. Un-molded clay. And in case you didn’t know, wet clay looks a whole hell of a lot like shit.”

  Chapter Three

  The present…

  “I’ve never seen you nervous before,” Ellie said, stepping up beside Devlin as he straightened his bowtie for the fourth time that night. She met his eyes in the freestanding mirror that took up one corner of the penthouse suite’s bedroom, her smile laced with a hint of a tease. “The great Devlin Saint with tummy butterflies. It’s kind of adorable.”

  “It’s not nerves,” he said. “It’s—”

  “What?”

  He exhaled. “Okay. Maybe it’s nerves.” They shared a smile. Him and his El, the woman he loved. The only person he could truly be himself with. The only person to whom he was willing to admit how much tonight meant to him.

  Beautiful inside and out, she’d enchanted him the first time he’d first seen her on her sixteenth birthday. She’d smiled shyly at him—just one glance before her eyes had darted away from his—but he’d felt that glance ricochet all through him. He’d been eighteen, and he’d known in that moment that she was his. Even if nothing ever happened between them—and how the hell could it?—he had claimed her completely.

  Then, by some miracle, what he knew in his heart came true. It had been a long and harrowing road, but despite everything, they were finally, truly together. She was a treasure. His miracle. And now here she was standing in front of him, her eyes shining with love despite who he was and everything he’d done.

  “You deserve this,” she said, clearly reading his mind. She put her hands on his shoulders to smooth the line of his tuxedo jacket, her head tilted up so that she could look into his eyes. “You’re an incredible man. You’ve come a long way from being Alejandro Lopez, the Wolf’s son. Or even from being Alex Leto, my first boyfriend. You’re Devlin Saint now. Influential. Powerful. Incredibly sexy,” she added with enough of a leer to make him smile. “You’re the man I love. The most incredible man I’ve ever known. And you’ve built something amazing.”

  She stepped back, looking him up and down. Then her eyes met his again, and the pride he saw reflected back at him nearly made his heart stop. “The World Council Award for Humanitarian Services. It’s amazing. An acknowledgement of everything you’ve worked for. Recognition of everything the Devlin Saint Foundation has accomplished. Aren’t you proud?”

  He drew in a breath. “I am,” he admitted. “This was the one thing my father got right.”

  Confusion flickered in her eyes, and he smiled. “He used to tell me that I was nothing unless I built something of my own. Made something of myself. Well, I did. And what I built is a hell of a lot more valuable than anything that sonofabitch ever accomplished.”

  “Yes,” she said simply, the word filled with so much love and pride he thought his heart might burst. At the same time, though, he knew that this conversation was only about the Devlin Saint Foundation, the philanthropic entity he’d established about five years ago. An organization involved in the rescue and rehabilitation of human trafficking victims, education, and so much more.

  But how would she answer if he asked her about the other organization that he’d founded? One that he held just as dear. Saint’s Angels did incredible work, but it operated below the radar. It had organized the rescue of hostages and kidnapping victims, true, but no humanitarian organization would hand over a plaque. In part because no one knew Saint’s Angels existed. More importantly because no one gave awards to vigilante groups who fired bullets through the heads of the kidnappers, ensuring they never tortured children again. Least of all Ellie, with her cop heritage and strong moral code.

  Still, she knew the truth now, and she was standing at his side. He wanted her full blessing, but for now at least, he was going to have to be satisfied with the absence of condemnation.

  “Devlin?” She was looking at him, her brow furrowing as her mouth turned down into a frown. “Did I lose you?”

  “Sorry. My mind was wandering.” He forced the thought of the lingering breach between them away, focusing instead on what he was most grateful for—her.

  “Do you know what else I’m proud of?” he asked.

  She studied him, then slowly shook her head.

  “To be seen with you on my arm. Believe me, El. I couldn’t be prouder than to be the man you love.”

  He watched as her cheeks flushed with pleasure.

  He grinned, then mimicked the way her eyes had roamed over him earlier. “Of course, it doesn’t hurt that you look so damn gorgeous.”

  She laughed, delighted. “I take it you like the outfit?”

  “You know I do.”

  They were in Manhattan for the award ceremony, and she’d told him yesterday that she was go
ing to go shop for the perfect gown while he was shuffled through his various PR appointments as this year’s award recipient. “I’ve lived here for years,” she’d said, “but I’ve never had a reason to do any serious shopping. Fifth Avenue, here I come.”

  Now, he made a spinning motion as she twirled for him, showing off the slinky, bronze gown that glimmered in the light, seeming to reflect fire with every tiny movement. She wore strappy sandals that perfectly matched the dress’s color, and the four-inch heels not only gave her the height to almost look him in the eye, but added a delicious curve to her calf, revealed by the thigh-high slit.

  He took it all in. The way the material clung to her ass in a way that his palm envied. The curve of her waist. The swell of her breasts against the low-cut, draped bodice, and the smoky topaz set in bronze that accentuated her cleavage and brought out the red highlights in her brown hair that hung in loose curls around her face.

  She was stunning, and the more he looked at her, the more awed he was that she belonged to him. This woman, the greatest miracle of his life.

  “How much did that necklace set you back?” he teased. “For that matter, the outfit?”

  She waved her hand. “On my reporter’s salary? Let’s just say I’ll be paying it off for the rest of my life.” She slid into his arms. “Fortunately, my boyfriend is worth it.”

  “Hmm,” he said, making a note to replenish her bank account first chance he had. “Well, you can’t put a price on perfection.”

  Her smile widened, making her caramel-colored eyes gleam. “I love you,” she said, and miraculously, his heart swelled even more.

  “Careful, or we won’t get out of here on time.” The front desk had called up a few minutes ago to say the limo would arrive in fifteen. They needed to start heading down.

  “I’m not worried,” she said, moving closer and easing her arms around his waist. “You’re the guest of honor. Nothing starts without you.”

  She rose up on her toes to kiss him, and though his entire body tightened with the need to throw her back on the bed, strip her bare, and work out every one of his roiling emotions in hot, wild, demanding sex, all he did was shake his head and push her gently but firmly away.

  “No.”

  Her brow rose. “No?”

  “Not that you aren’t temptation personified,” he told her. He meant it, too. Was there ever a time he didn’t want her? Under normal circumstances, he craved her. Right now, things were definitely not normal, and that only worked to increase his need. He felt off, as if he should be shying from this award. As if he should believe himself undeserving or hypocritical because of the secrets he held.

  But he didn’t.

  He knew the good he did. He’d worked all of his adult life to try and make the world a better place. To ease suffering, fight crime, provide education. Whatever could be done, was done, and the foundation he’d built brick by brick and day by day had acted as the solid base for so many lives that were now back on track. So many victims who’d been rescued. So many of the lost who’d been found.

  He thought of all the children he’d hugged, the parents he’d consoled, the abuse victims he’d sheltered. And, yes, the many villains he’d personally killed, their life taken in payment for their crimes, and without a shred of remorse on his part other than that he hadn’t found and destroyed the bastards before they’d had the chance to inflict even one more moment of pain.

  Ellie’s smile was gentle as she reached up, then slowly traced the line of his scar, moving over his brow, his eye, along his cheekbone. A battle scar he wore with pride, because it represented the downfall of one more bad guy. Another pawn in a never-ending game of chess.

  “I hate that you were hurt,” she said. “But you do look damn sexy with your warrior scar and your tuxedo and those tortoise shell glasses.”

  “I’m very glad you think so.”

  “You know what else I think?”

  “Tell me,” he said as he cupped her ass and pulled her close enough that he knew she could feel his hard cock against her belly.

  “Exactly what you’re thinking,” she teased, wiggling just enough to drive him a little crazy. “But like you said, right now we have a limo waiting downstairs, and we need to go so you can be the man of the hour.”

  “We do,” he said, releasing her ass so that he could take her hand. He paused at the door. “I’d give it up, you know.” He looked at her hard, wanting to make sure she understood the heart of what he was saying. “I’d give everything up if that’s what it took to keep you by my side.”

  He watched her face, assuring himself that she understood fully what he meant. What he was willing to walk away from in order to keep El in his life.

  “I believe you,” she said, taking her hand in his. “But if you did, you wouldn’t be you. Now come on before we’re late.”

  Chapter Four

  She tempted him in the limo, of course. That dress with the slit that revealed way too much thigh. How delicious would it be to burn off some of this pent-up energy? To take her here in the back, with the privacy shield up? To fuck her hard as the sights of Manhattan flew past them? To have the taste and scent of her on him when he stood at that podium and made his speech?

  She made him strong, his Ellie. And God knew, she’d been his talisman throughout the long journey of his life. The beacon that had shined along his path to becoming the man that he was. Good. Bad. However you took it, he was that man because of her. Hell, he was hers.

  And she was his as well.

  As if he had to prove it, he pressed his hand lightly on her thigh, then started to slide it up her bare, silky skin. He heard her soft intake of breath and noted the way her nipples tightened under the thin material that covered her breasts. Her legs parted, and her soft moan did a number on his cock before she gently pressed her hand over his, halting his upward trajectory.

  “There is no way you’re getting me mussed up before you accept this award.”

  He heard the heat in her voice, and his pulse kicked up in response, his cock twitching in anticipation. He smiled. How many times had he told her how much he got off on anticipation?

  “And after?” he asked.

  Her hand remained on his, but she spread her legs wider. He was watching her, the gloss on her parted lips, the promise in her eyes. “After’s a no-brainer. How many girls get to say they fucked the Humanitarian of the Year in the back of a limo?”

  “Would hate for you to miss out on that.” He brushed his thumb back and forth on her thigh, his whole body tightening as he watched her body tremble in response to that minuscule touch.

  “Good. Because I don’t intend to. Still…” She trailed off with a smile, then laid her hand back on top of his again. For a moment, she just held it there. Then she slowly—so wickedly slowly—started to slide his hand higher until his thumb brushed her bare pussy. “Just a preview…”

  He moaned aloud.

  “Baby, how the hell do you expect me to make a speech knowing what you have on under this dress?”

  She squeezed her legs together, trapping him in place. Practically insisting that he slide his eager fingers inside her slick folds. “I have faith in you,” she said. “Think of this as inspiration,” she added on a sigh as the tip of his finger found that sensitive spot that made her arch back and then gasp in pleasure.

  “Oh, no,” she said, her words belied by the breathiness of her voice as she tugged his hand away. “That’s for later. We’ll take the long way back to the hotel.”

  “Yes,” he said, his mind on the return trip and not the speech he was about to give. “We will.”

  She grinned at him as she settled back in the seat, her head on his shoulder as he slipped an arm around her. They still had a few more minutes before they arrived, and silence lingered as the limo traversed the city blocks.

  After a moment, though, she reached for his hand again. “Are you okay?”

  He understood why she was asking the question. After all, the la
st few weeks had been significantly out of the ordinary. Anna Lindstrom, one of his oldest friends and his executive assistant at the foundation, had proven herself to be a traitor to him and the organization.

  As if that weren’t enough, an old enemy had appeared on the horizon. And he’d almost lost Ellie herself, only fate, timing, and the deep roots of an ancient tree had kept her from falling to her death before he’d arrived in time to save her.

  As much as it pained him to lose Anna, her death and betrayal had been almost nothing compared to the knowledge of how close he’d come to almost losing Ellie.

  And the biggest miracle of all? That even though she’d been reeling after finally learning his deepest and darkest secrets, that night when her car had gone over the cliff, she’d been on her way to tell him that she still loved him. That she still needed him.

  She was his goddamn universe. And Anna had almost stolen her from him.

  “Devlin?”

  “I’m fine,” he assured her. He caught her eyes and saw the worry that lingered there. “I only—”

  “What?”

  He frowned, not sure how to put voice to his fears. She’d come back to him even after learning the truth about the Myers assassination. More than that, after learning that he was the brains and funding behind Saint’s Angels, a super-secret, off-the-books vigilante organization that, as far as Devlin was concerned, did at least as much good in the world as the very above-board and internationally lauded Devlin Saint Foundation.

  That, however wasn’t common knowledge. And with her background in law enforcement, it hadn’t been something he’d expected Ellie to understand. It had been his biggest secret … and his biggest fear.

  And yet here she was, right at his side. Their love stronger than even the most potent of obstacles, including her own hesitations about what he did.

  “Devlin?” She was studying him, her forehead creased with concern.

  He stroked her cheek. “I’m fine. I only—”

  “What?”

  He swallowed, the doubts he’d pushed away rising back to the surface. “This award,” he said. “What do you think of it?” Was she proud of him for what the foundation had accomplished, or did she think that the existence of Saint’s Angels and its methods made a humanitarian honor hypocritical?