Mastered (The Enforcers 1)

But again, he hadn’t become successful in business—or in personal matters—by hesitating when an opportunity presented itself. When—not if—Evangeline gathered her shaken senses, he wanted it to be on his turf. Where she couldn’t run from him. No escape. He couldn’t very well pull out every weapon of persuasion in his arsenal if he was persuading thin air. Which was where she would have vanished if he hadn’t taken swift advantage of her shock and momentary loss of her wits.

If that made him a bastard . . . Well, he’d certainly been called—and for that matter, was—a hell of a lot worse. In the end, what mattered was that he got what he wanted.

Evangeline. Angel. His angel.

In his apartment. His bed. Under his firm hand and protection. For as long as he wished her to be there.

For the first time, he hadn’t already put a finite time on a liaison. Hell, he wasn’t even considering this anything so casual. The days of one-night stands, or even the occasional weekend when he kept the same woman and sated his desires until Monday morning when his workweek began, and the rare weekend he took off, were over.

All he knew was that she was here. With him. About to enter his home. A place he never took a woman—any woman—and he had no intention of letting her go any time soon.

He frowned, uncertain of what to make of that particular revelation. For the time being, he shoved it firmly away and compartmentalized it in his mind to reflect on later. Much later. After Evangeline was taken care of and the matter of their relationship settled.

He opened the door, reaching for Evangeline’s hand, even knowing she couldn’t open the opposing door into the street. She didn’t resist when he stepped onto the sidewalk, carefully pulling her with him. He anchored his arm around her waist as she too stepped from the car, and he ushered her quickly to the entrance and into the lobby where the elevator doors had already been opened by the doorman who worked the night shift.

The doorman courteously extended his arm toward the inside of the elevator and murmured a respectful, “Good night, Mr. Donovan.” But Drake didn’t miss the quick lift of one eyebrow as the doorman’s gaze swept over Evangeline huddled against Drake.

Drake sent him an icy look that had the man retreating as Drake inserted his key card for his floor. He was well aware of the doorman’s surprise, given that Drake never brought women to his home, but the man should have had more discipline than to allow his thoughts to be broadcast through his body language.

As the elevator began its ascent, Evangeline wobbled slightly against him, and he silently cursed those damn shoes he’d been forced to put back on her swollen feet. Then he simply bent and wrapped his fingers around one delicate ankle, ignoring her gasp of surprise as he lifted first one foot to remove the offending heel and then the other. She was forced to hold on to his arm to maintain her balance.

When she reached to take them, he simply shoved them underneath his other arm before once more curling his free arm around her waist, solidly anchoring her back to him.

“You won’t be working in these again,” he said bluntly. “You won’t be working at all. The only time you’ll be wearing heels is if you’re out with me or I want to fuck you in them.”

She stiffened and her eyes sparked when she tilted her head up so their gazes met. She opened her mouth but the elevator stopped, the doors opening immediately, and Drake took advantage by pulling her forward and into his foyer.

They had walked only a few steps when Evangeline abruptly halted. He glanced down, bracing for the inevitable protest, the regaining of her senses, or perhaps she’d finally figured out exactly what she wanted to say but had been too overwhelmed to do so before. But she merely stared wide-eyed, not at him. She wasn’t paying him the slightest bit of attention.

Her gaze swept the sprawling, spacious open-concept apartment, a dazed expression on her face. And then she finally swung it up to meet his, puzzlement and awe swirling in her eyes.

“This is your apartment?” she barely managed to whisper. “I didn’t think they made apartments this large in New York.”

He wanted to kick himself in the head. His wanting to get her to his apartment as quickly as possible was because he didn’t want her too overwhelmed. If anything, seeing and being in his apartment had tipped her the rest of the way off the ledge.

Not knowing what else to do or say at just that moment, he started to pull her into the shelter of his arms to offer her comfort, but just as his fingertips brushed over her arms to take hold, his intercom buzzed.