Stolen Desire (The Lust List: Kaidan Stone #3) Read online

  Copyright © 2015 by Nova Raines

  Editing by Erynn Newman

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

  NoMi Press

  www.NovaRaines.com

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Stolen Desire (The Lust List: Kaidan Stone)/ Nova Raines—1st ed.

  The Lust List Series

  by Nova Raines and Mira Bailee

  The Lust List: Kaidan Stone by Nova Raines

  One Condition (The Lust List: Kaidan Stone #1)

  Tangled Trust (The Lust List: Kaidan Stone #2)

  Stolen Desire (The Lust List: Kaidan Stone #3)

  Scandal Exposed (The Lust List: Kaidan Stone #4)

  The Lust List: Devon Stone by Mira Bailee

  First Taste (The Lust List: Devon Stone #1)

  Second Chances (The Lust List: Devon Stone #2)

  Third Degree (The Lust List Devon Stone #3)

  Four-Letter Words (The Lust List: Devon Stone #4)

  Sign up for The Lust List A-List to be the first to find out when new Lust List books are released. You can sign up at NovaRaines.com

  They're going to kill my brother.

  That's the only thought I've had for the past few hours. That, and all the ways they might kill him. If they'll hide the body, if I'll ever find out what happened to him.

  The drug dealers my dad owed money to destroyed Rowan's apartment… because of me. I couldn't solve this problem on my own, so they went after him. And now he wants revenge. He has no idea how dangerous these guys are. It's been twelve hours since he called me, and he won't answer the phone. I'm probably too late to stop him from doing something stupid, but I have to try.

  My imagination hasn't let up since I got his text message this morning. I rushed home from the hotel where I spent the night with Kaidan, got my car, and drove to Santa Monica to beg Rowan's address off the bartender at Dark Star.

  As I turn down the street my brother lives on, my heart feels like it's going to explode. I can barely breathe.

  The paparazzi are on my ass again, stressing me out even more, but there's no losing them. They found my penthouse after the catastrophe at the HIT awards last night. They were waiting for me en masse this morning, and now they've followed me right to my brother's building.

  Rowan's apartment turns out to be a weathered four-story building half a mile from Santa Monica beach. When I park the car, my burning eyes start to tear up, and the lump in my throat is so thick I can barely swallow.

  I grab my purse and get out of my Mercedes. The paps are out of their cars in an instant, crowding me, snapping away, calling my name.

  “Hayley Wade!”

  “Hey, Hayley!”

  “What happened with Peyton last night at the HIT Awards?”

  I cover my face with one hand as I clumsily pull my pepper spray from my purse. They instantly jump back a step, giving me some space. I don't see the last guy I pepper sprayed here. Maybe he learned his lesson.

  I hide my face with my purse and run for the entrance. The paps stay outside as I enter the dingy, tiled hallway. No security. Why the hell does Rowan insist on living like this? The drug dealers had just walked right in. I head for the stairs at the end of the hall. Rowan's apartment is upstairs in 201.

  I race up the stairwell, my heels clacking against the tile, and when I get to his apartment, my breath catches. I bang on the door.

  Please be here.

  I bang again, harder. “Rowan, answer the door!”

  But no one answers. I wait another few minutes and knock three more times before sinking against the wall with my head in my hands, trying not to cry.

  If something happens to Rowan… He's all I have left. We might not get along, but right now I regret every mean thing I've ever said to him.

  A door creaks open across the hall, and my head jerks up. It's a gorgeous, toned brunette wearing short shorts, a loose neon blue tank top that shows her sports bra, and low booties.

  Her eyes widen in surprise. “You okay?”

  I wipe my tear-stained cheeks and try not to look like a mess.

  The girl saunters over and slides down next to me on the floor. She holds out a hand. “I'm Jade.”

  I take her hand, confused. She doesn't seem to know me at all. “Hay… Hayley.”

  “What's the matter? Havin’ a bad day?” She sighs. “I just died for the bajillionth time. Damn dragons. I'm about to start over as a mage.”

  “Huh?”

  She waves a hand, dismissing my confusion. “Now tell me what's the matter.”

  Tears start to leak from my eyes again, and I find myself confessing everything to a total stranger. “Lots of things. I'm worried about my brother… I'm broke. I need a freaking job.”

  Jade rubs my shoulder gently. “You live here?”

  She's got this weird, calm presence that makes me want to confide in her. I shake my head. “My brother does. I'm hoping he shows up soon. Do you know him? He lives there,” I say, pointing to the door.

  “Sorry, no. We just moved here. But… I can maybe help you with your other problem. I may have a job for you.” She pulls a little notepad from her purse and scribbles something on a sheet. She tears it off and hands it to me. “I'm actually on my way to work now. They're always hiring. And… you're beautiful, Hayley. Come check it out. No pressure.”

  She grins at me and gets to her feet. I glance down at her flowing script. An address in Chatsworth, in the San Fernando Valley.

  “Thanks. So you're a model?”

  She tilts her head to the side and gives me another smile. “If you really need work, just come check it out. We're having an open call Friday at 6 p.m.”

  “Thanks,” I say again.

  She gives me a little wave and takes off down the stairs.

  I lay my head against the wall for a few minutes, trying to stop the tears, then finally wipe my smeared mascara away and shove the paper into my purse.

  “Hayley?”

  Rowan’s standing at the top of the stairs—his green eyes wide in surprise, face flushed, brown hair tousled.

  A little sob bubbles up in my throat. As he steps onto the landing, I bound over to him and throw my arms around his neck.

  “I was so worried.”

  He goes rigid, muscles tensing, then hugs me stiffly, patting my back with one hand. “I'm fine.”

  I suddenly feel awkward, and I step back and wipe at my eyes. “You're message…”

  “What's with all the paps outside?”

  I let out a laugh and lean against the wall again, my legs like Jell-O. “They're mine. Sorry. Didn't you see the news?”

  Rowan's face hardens. “On what TV?” He goes to his door and unlocks it.

  I follow him inside, looking around. His cramped apartment is clean now, everything back in its place, but the table across from the tattered leather couch is empty where the TV must have been. The smashed glass coffee table from the picture is missing, too. He sinks down in his arm chair and runs his hand through his hair.

  I shut the door behind me and linger next to it.

  He's silent, staring into space, so I gingerly step around him and sit on the edge of his couch.

  “Peyton Mackenzie threw her drink in my face last night on network television.” br />
  Rowan chokes out a rough laugh. “What the hell?”

  “Yeah. It happened.”

  He shakes his head. “That would happen to you.” Then the flicker of amusement fades. “Why are you here? I told you not to worry about this. It's not your problem anymore.”

  “No. It's our problem.”

  “I'm taking care of it.”

  “How?”

  “I have friends tracking them down right now. I'll find them, and they'll pay for this. They won't bother us again.”

  “Listen to me. Dad owed them eighty grand. When I was late with the first payment, they doubled what they want. They're serious.”

  Rowan's jaw tightens. “Aw, shit. It would have been nice if you’d shared that when you came to Dark Star.”

  “I'm sorry—you weren't taking me seriously and… You have to drop this. I'll find a way to pay them back, and they'll go away.”

  “Do you really believe that? If you pay them once, they'll be back for more. You don't get rid of guys like this that easily. Do you even know for sure that dad owed them money?”

  I swallow. “I never… How would I know? I just assumed…”

  “Exactly. Maybe they're playing you.”

  “But isn't that what Dad did while he was here? Have wild parties with unlimited cocaine?”

  Rowan closes his eyes and rubs his temples. “I stayed away from him as much as I could. But yes, it's possible Dad did owe these guys money.”

  “Please promise you'll stay out of this until I can get the money together. They're dangerous!”

  Rowan lets out a breath and folds his arms across his chest, meeting my gaze. “So am I.”

  “They'll kill you if you go after them.” My voice cracks. “They have guns.”

  “So do I.” He doesn't blink as he says it, and my whole body goes cold.

  His face is a blank mask now, and I shift away from him slightly, trying to make sense of this man sitting before me.

  “Why are you saying this stuff? You're not… like those people.”

  He meets my eyes. “You don't know me. You don't know what my life has been like or what I've done since you left. I'm taking care of this.”

  A little shiver runs through me at what he’s insinuating. “They told me they have friends in the police department.” My voice rises without my permission. “But I think it's time to go to the cops.”

  His eyes flash, and I catch a glimpse of the anger he's suppressing right now.

  “Did you already give them money?” Rowan asks harshly.

  “A little—”

  “Then they can bring you down with them. They stole my shit, and I'm getting it back. Don't engage them again.” He stands up and goes to the door. I get up from the couch reluctantly.

  “It's not like I talk to them on purpose. They stalk me! They picked me up once and threatened me. And you! Please… just wait.”

  He shakes his head and wraps a hand around the door knob. “I have work today, so I'm not going to do anything yet. Okay? Just go home, Hayley, and lock yourself in the penthouse. I'll call you in a few days when it's been taken care of.”

  My chest tightens as he opens the door, and I stand in front of the couch, trying to come up with something to say. He's getting rid of me, just like all those times when he made dad send me to Char's when we were younger.

  Fiery anger burns its way up my throat, and I go to the door and poke Rowan in the chest.

  “You're being stupid. I'll never forgive you if you get yourself killed.”

  “Go home.”

  “No. I'm not leaving until you promise not to do anything. We need to go to the cops.”

  Something like regret flickers across his face as he pushes my hand away. “Get the fuck out of my building and take those paps with you.”

  His voice is cruel… like a knife in my heart. He's such a dick. I nod, unable to speak, and take off down the stairs. I hate myself for leaving him, not insisting he talk to me, let me help fix this, but he doesn't want me here. He never wants me around—has never wanted me around.

  But still… for the first time, I'm realizing he's not the kid he was. Someone else has taken his place, a stranger I don't know or understand.

  The sharks circle me when I get back outside, and I run to my car, slam the door, and get the hell out of there.

  I leave Santa Monica and head into LA. There's a police station close to my law firm, and that's where I'm going. I won't let Rowan get himself killed. It's time to report what's going on and take a risk that Luis doesn't have the reach he claims. If the gangsters try to take me down with them… let them. I have a good lawyer.

  The whole time I drive, the paps are right on my ass, and a flame ignites in my chest. Why the fuck won't they leave me alone? I know they'll just go back to my house, but I really don't want them following me to the station, asking questions, sparking gossip. As soon as I'm off the freeway, I take a sharp turn onto a side street, trying to lose them.

  The paps speed up to catch me, so I take another sharp turn, my tires squealing against the pavement. A truck pulls out of a parking lot out of nowhere and doesn't see me coming, doesn't stop, and I let out a scream as I slam on the breaks. I screech to a stop inches from his door. But the paps behind me are still hurtling around the corner at full speed, and there's no way they can stop in time.

  I brace myself, horrified, everything happening in slow motion. The first pap's car slams into my bumper, and my car rams into the side of the truck.

  I careen forward, and the world goes dark.

  My eyes flutter open, and I blink against the bright light.

  “She's coming to,” a distant voice says.

  Then all the sounds of the street rush in on me. A beep in the distance, people talking, and the red and orange lights of an ambulance. I focus on the face above, and recognition dawns on me. Charles. Kaidan's driver and bodyguard.

  I realize I'm lying down, and I try to jerk up, but a gentle hand presses me back down. I look to the side and find a paramedic there.

  “You were in an accident and passed out,” the medic says. “How do you feel?”

  Why is Kaidan's bodyguard here?

  “Hayley?” The medic repeats.

  “I feel fine.” Everything's hazy, but my mind is clearing.

  The paramedic shines a bright light in my eyes, and it shocks me fully awake.

  “She's tracking,” he says. “Do you have a headache or neck pain or any pressure in your head?”

  “No. No. Nothing.” I say, insistent. I sit up and swing my legs over the edge of the gurney I'm on. I'm instantly woozy and reach out a hand. Charles grabs me, steadying me without saying a word. He’s huge, with broad shoulders and dark brown skin. My eyes lock onto the holster at his waist, and a chill runs through me. Why does everyone I know have guns?

  I tear my eyes away to glance behind him, to the crowd on the sidewalk. Paps are snapping away. I shoot them daggers and scoot over so Charles's back blocks their view.

  “Are you nauseous?” The paramedic asks. “We need to make sure you don't have a concussion.”

  “I'm fine.” I wave the paramedic away and look up at Charles. “How did you know I…?”

  I trail off as a car pulls up on the other side of the ambulance. Kaidan jumps out, dressed in a well-tailored black suit. He's clean-shaven, his hair perfectly styled.

  My chest expands, and warmth shoots through me as he heads my way. When he's at my side, he cups my chin and lifts my head, examining me for visible wounds. I stare up at his deep brown eyes filled with worry, at the curve of his jaw, and my muscles relax, the tension going right out of me. My cheeks flush as I remember last night, but Kaidan isn't thinking about that now, and I shouldn't be either. He lets go of my chin and grabs one of my hands and squeezes. My chest caves, and I slump forward on the gurney, fighting back the sudden urge to cry.

  “Is she okay?” he asks the paramedics.

  “I'm fine.” I peek between Charles and Kaidan
and see the blue car that hit me. The pap who was driving it is pale-faced and sweating, leaning against his car, not looking my way. He has a phone pressed to his ear. I frown, and my nails bite into my palms so hard it hurts. Then I catch a glimpse of my Mercedes in front of the pap's. The front and back bumpers are completely mangled.

  I sigh. “I'm fine, but my car isn't.”

  Kaidan turns my face away from the mess and meets my gaze. “I don't give a fuck about the car.” He looks back to the medics. “Are you taking her to the hospital?”

  “I'm clearing her, but we can take her if she wants to go.”

  “No. I'm taking her to my doctor.”

  “Kaidan—”

  “Shh. Charles—make sure you get all the necessary insurance information and get her car to the shop. If she needs to give a statement, she'll give it after I've taken her to the doctor.”

  Kaidan helps me off the gurney, and tears brim in my eyes as he leads me back to his car. “Are you sure you're okay? Charles said you passed out.”

  “I feel a little woozy… My head hurts a little. But I don't think I have a concussion or anything.”

  Kaidan opens the door for me and lets go of my hand so I can sink into the seat. He runs back to my car to grab my purse and give Charles the information he'll need when the cops show up.

  I sink back in the seat and inhale the masculine scent of Kaidan's cologne. My heart's thumping fast, and my chest is too tight when he gets into the car and pulls back into the street.

  What the hell just happened? I should feel grateful Kaidan showed up to take care of me, but it feels like I lost control of my life yet again. How did Charles find me so fast?

  Kaidan's clenching and unclenching his hand on the steering wheel, and he grips the stick shift tightly, switching the gears fast… and not smoothly.

  “Tell me exactly what happened,” he finally says, his voice deep and even.

  “Didn't Charles tell you? Was he following me?” I’m being snappy, and I don't know why. I feel like I'm on the edge of a cliff, about to go over.

  “I want to hear it from you.”