A Fragile Family Read online

  “My sister for one, our family for another; and after that the entire pack…” Jacob answered with another uncomfortable shrug.

  “No pressure then, good,” Myles growled, pushing to his feet. “So you’re going to tell me how to fix it all, is that it?”

  “Sorta,” Jacob appeared to be blushing now. “I’m gonna tell you what to do about Ashley, a little, and then…we’ll just take it a step at a time, huh?”

  Myles rolled his eyes. “A step at a time, then. Why not? What shall I do first, mate?”

  Jacob flashed him a smug grin. “Go to Ashley’s place and wait,” he told Myles, rising to his feet and throwing an arm across his shoulder. “I’ll call you when the time comes.”

  Myles shook his head, allowing Jacob to lead him. The young man had never been very forthcoming and that had obviously not changed at all. Oh well, what else could Myles do but what he was told? Hopefully things would be easier with Jacob’s inscrutable counsel.

  Chapter Four

  Home of Ashley West-Montgomery

  801 Hillsboro Avenue

  Tampa, Florida

  Ashley’s apartment had the feel of a place that had been empty for days, weeks– possibly longer. Myles walked into the bedroom and looked around. The bed was made but messy, as if its last occupant had simply reclined restlessly upon the comforter instead of crawling under it and sleeping.

  As he glanced around the room, Myles noticed the blinking light on the phone.

  Realizing that it was the answering machine, he pressed the prominent button in the middle labeled play.

  “Hello?” he heard Ashley’s out-of-breath voice panting. The machine had stayed on, recording the conversation.

  “Hey, sweet cheeks,” a man’s voice responded. “Just getting in? How was it?”

  “Hey, stud muffin! How’s it going?” she asked the man on the other end of the phone. Myles growled angrily at both the man’s and his mate’s words. He could hear noises as if she were moving around the room.

  “Sit, fun buns! Tell me. I need to know what I’m scooping up here. We have a marathon coming.”

  He heard a creaking, squeaking sound as if she followed her caller’s instruction and sat down. “I’m okay, Sherman, really.”

  “Truth, come on. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” the man said. Myles growled again low in his throat. He didn’t appreciate the easy familiarity between this man and his Princess.

  “It wasn’t much different than every other time, Sherman.” Sherman Landon? Of Landon International? He heard the strain in Ashley’s voice this time.

  “Was he there?” Sherman asked.

  “Course he was,” Ashley responded.

  “Did it hurt as much as always?”

  “Course it did,” Ashley responded. “More, even. More than ever.”

  “Words, Tasty Thighs, I need words—adjectives, adverbs…” Myles sat on the edge of the bed not liking the conversation he was hearing a bit.

  “Relentless ache, driving need, desperate throbbing hunger, excruciating yearning…” She took a deep breath. “I can go on, Sherm, only it goes downhill from there.”

  “Let me take you away from all this. There’s a typhoon in Japan, after that, we’ll head to flood ravaged Venezuela, and then back to the Philippines where typhoon Felion is bearing down on the little island nation once again.”

  “You always said you’d show me the world, didn’t you, pal?” Ashley sounded a little tearful.

  “I did, I did,” the voice of Sherman came back, his jesting tone a little hollow.

  “I’ll never take his place but I’ll keep your beautiful mind off of him as much as I can. You packed?”

  “I never unpacked. I hate to say it, but this is a good time for a disaster or two,” she told him. There was silence on the line. Myles could hear the waiting. “Sometimes it feels like I’m going to fly to pieces. You?”

  “Do you remember last year in Australia when those crocodiles were tearing up that cow?”

  “The part where you snatched me out of the gaping jaws of the hungry predator and I wished you were Myles?” Ashley answered back, her voice small and a little lost.

  Myles sat up straighter, his brow furrowed.

  “And I wished you were Lilith clinging to me for dear life? No, the part where the actual cow was disembodied and eaten alive,” Sherman clarified.

  “I’ll never forget it as long as I live.”

  Now that he knew she’d gone through it, Myles wouldn’t forget it either. There was a time when she would have written him about it. There was a time when she wouldn’t put herself in danger without knowing he was nearby to keep her safe.

  “That’s what my holiday was like,” Sherman sighed.

  “In that case, this three-disaster marathon should be a cake walk for both of us, huh?” Ashley returned, false cheer coloring her voice now.

  “I think it’ll be soothing for us, sweet cheeks. I’ll be there in half an hour. Don’t plan on being home for a month. Or so…”

  “I’ll be ready. Maybe we’ll get lucky this time, huh?” Myles heard the click and dial tone.

  Of course she wouldn’t care if her entire conversation with anyone was recorded.

  She was alone. Had been alone for so long. How had they ended up this way?

  Since he’d met her at eight years old, Myles had known that Ashley West was his mate. According to Mik, his adopted father and her step-grandfather, she’d known it since then, too. That had been fifteen years ago. He was thirty-nine now and she was twenty-three.

  ****

  Office of Lilith Landon

  Landon International

  Suite 2A, 5400 Peachtree Street

  Atlanta Georgia

  “As a company, of course, Landon International has always taken an interest in the rehabilitation of Georgia’s citizens, Mr. Aschtholdt.” The woman was beautiful, but Jack wasn’t fooled. There was just something about her. “The fact that my husband is dear friends with your daughter…well, that does enter into the equation, of course.”

  Bingo! Either this was a woman scorned or…Jack didn’t know. He would certainly tread carefully. Whether this woman perched on the edge of the desk facing him was friend or foe remained to be seen. He eyed her warily as she crossed one bare leg over the other, revealing a wealth of toned and tanned thigh.

  Jack wasn’t a conventionally attractive man, but prison had hardened his body and toned his muscles. He was in better shape than he had ever been, and at forty-six, he wasn’t yet past his prime. He knew he filled out his new suit well, and his bad boy attitude didn’t hurt either. Lilith Landon appeared to like what he had to offer.

  He decided to address her statement about Ashley, head on. “You must know, Mrs. Landon, that I don’t have a warm and friendly relationship with my, uh, daughter.”

  How he hated being reminded that the girl was his flesh and blood. He took a deep, calming breath. “I’m not sure what you hope to gain from me in that regard.”

  Oh, what a naughty smile she had. Jack was enchanted.

  “Yes, I know you weren’t close to her. Some of what you said in court the first time around makes particularly interesting reading. Oh! And do call me Lilith. I believe we’ll become quite good friends.”

  “Friends, huh?” Jack grinned. Leaning forward, he trailed two fingers along the edge of her very short skirt, coming to rest just inside her right thigh. She caught his hand and held it there. “You have a crumb…” he murmured.

  Lilith shifted so that the tips of Jack’s fingers lightly brushed warm strands of hair and heat between her legs. “I’m looking for a dangerous man who has a score to settle— specifically with the young lady in question. Do you know anyone like that, Mr. Aschtholdt?” she asked breathily.

  Jack spread his fingers, stroking the silky, warm skin at the crease of her thigh. So soft, so hot.

  “Please make it Jack,” he murmured. Daring, he stroked the outside of her partially shaved labia with o
ne finger. “Yes, Lilith,” he answered her heated question, dragging his index finger down and sliding it into her creamy sheath. “I do know someone,” he stood, unzipping and freeing his aching hard cock with his other hand. “I know someone just like that!” he grunted, moving in front of her and pulling her more fully around to face him.

  Lilith spread her legs wide, looping them around Jack’s waist and pulling his jutting erection toward her. “Do you, Jack? Show me…” she purred.

  With a flex of her legs and a little scoot, Lilith impaled herself on Jack’s cock.

  Jack groaned loudly, savoring the feel of his needy length buried in her tight heat.

  “Yeah, s’good,” he moaned, pulling back and plunging forward again. “Been about seventeen years since I got me some pussy. Saves me from finding a whore.”

  “Shut up and fuck me, Jack. Prove you can do a good job. We’ll consider this our handshake.”

  Jack complied with a growl. So she wanted to see what he had, did she? He slipped one hand under her buttock cheeks, pushing her flimsy skirt up around her waist.

  Still pumping his hips like a pistoning jackhammer, Jack brought one finger to his mouth, wetting it with his saliva. Angling her forward, he reached around behind her for her exposed puckered opening and pushed his glistening finger in deep.

  “Oh! Oh! Oh, Jack!” Lilith shrieked, wrapping her legs tight around his hips and her arms around his shoulders.

  Her sheath clenched snugly around his jerking length, squeezing him. “Shit!” he bellowed, the tingling in his balls elevating to tiny explosions as his hot semen erupted like lava deep into her wet center.

  Carefully, slowly, Lilith unwound her legs from Jack’s middle, pushing to her feet and adjusting her skirt. Jack stepped back on wobbly legs, casually zipping his pants and tucking his shirt in.

  Lilith turned and handed him a moist towelette, arching a brow at him. He took it with a smug smile, ripped it open and wiped his fingers carefully.

  “Come with me and I’ll show you to your new office,” Lilith murmured, all business now.

  “What, specifically, will my job be?” he asked, following her out of her large feminine office into a smaller one, more masculine, situated just next door.

  “You’ll be my personal assistant, Jack. My beck-and-call man. I’ll assign you personal projects which you will carry out, answering only to me. Think you can handle that?”

  Jack grinned widely. “Of course I can handle that.”

  “Good,” she said decisively. “Your first assignment will be to find everything you possibly can about Ashley West-Montgomery.”

  Chapter Five

  Home of Ashley West-Montgomery

  801 Hillsboro Avenue

  Tampa, Florida

  As he poked around her small apartment, Myles was stunned at the barren way that Ashley lived. The refrigerator held a bottle of water and nothing else. She had plenty of books, a laptop—now dust covered, and some of Tav’s paintings on the wall. Tavist Darke, the renowned artist, was her stepfather.

  He found pictures of Jacob and Christopher, and Serena and Victoria, her younger twin half-sisters who were now fifteen. There were pictures of her parents and her uncles, Lakon and Riker Montgomery with their wives Mya and Bethany. There were even pictures of Philly—Ashley’s best friend who had married to Lakon, Riker, and Myles’ cousin, Yancey.

  Opening a cabinet, he found two photo albums filled with pictures of Ashley and him. He leafed through them watching her grow up in the pictures. Had he grown up, too? At thirty-nine years old, he wondered if his growth had arrested when he turned twenty-four.

  He didn’t feel bad about poking through her life while she was gone. She was his mate. They had mated and he’d left his mark on her.

  On the afternoon of her eighteenth birthday, she’d taken a nap in his bed. He’d lain down next to her not realizing that she was even there. When he’d made love with her, he’d thought he was having a beautiful dream.

  What a dream it had been, too. Her sweet voice whispering, “Touch me, Myles, mate with me, ” still resounded in his head.

  She’d tasted so beautiful—felt so good under him. Their mating had been perfect.

  And then he’d destroyed it, and her, in a matter of seconds.

  He’d awakened with her beautiful body in his arms, still buried deep inside of her.

  He’d been licking the bite he’d made on her shoulder when he realized that he was no longer dreaming. She was real. He’d mated with his Princess.

  Myles couldn’t remember word for word what he’d said to her. He could recall the gist of it, though. He’d yelled that he’d slept with a child who didn’t know her own mind. He accused her of making him a child molester.

  He’d gone so far as to suggest that her being in his bed in the first place proved her very immaturity. Worse than the things he’d said, he’d seen her going paler and more still by the word but somehow he just couldn’t shut up.

  She’d stared at him from those dark chocolate eyes of hers as if she were memorizing the scene. Finally, she’d stood and pulled on the clothes she’d worn before she’d napped—all but the thong he’d destroyed at some point during their mating.

  “Well,” she’d answered him brightly, “I guess you told me. I am now firmly sorted out.”

  “Princess, wait!” he’d reached for her. Some imp of sanity had finally kick-started his brain but it had been too late.

  He remembered that he could actually feel a chill in the air the closer he’d gotten to her. He might have caught up with her but she’d run into Mya and Lakon in the yard.

  She’d wrapped an arm around Mya and chattered seemingly happily from his house to Mik’s a short walk away.

  After that Ashley was always polite to him. She even seemed affectionate to him in front of others. He could feel the river of ice flowing between them, though. Whenever he came near her she threw up shutters like an old house before a storm.

  Continuing to look around, Myles spotted a tape in her VCR. On it, written in Sharpie were the words Ashley/Sherman Disaster Documentary. Curiosity piqued, he inserted the tape and turned it on.

  The picture opened on Ashley dressed elegantly in a purplish-colored skirt suit that followed her figure, tucking in at the waist. The straight skirt ended just above the knee with a series of tiny pleats. Her long dark brown hair waved around her shoulders and down to the middle of her back. She was seated on a couch next to an elegantly dressed and very attractive man.

  The man was young looking although his hair seemed to be silver. Maybe it was silver and blonde. He wore an expensive lightweight Armani suit in a dark gray color. He was about six feet tall and made Ashley look even more petite than she already was at five feet nothing.

  Across from them sat a thin, studious looking man with shaggy, dishwater blonde hair. He began to speak. “Let’s just do this casually. You can even drink if you want.”

  The thin man began speaking.

  “Nope, don’t drink—not usually.” Ashley’s beautiful smile hit Myles in the gut.

  “We drink once or twice a year, usually in a foreign country.” We? Turning to Ashley, the man text to Ashley said, “He was going to ask about that incident in Nepal, Sweet Cheeks.” This must be Sherman.

  “Coffee then?” They nodded. “Now, tell me how you two met,” the studious man asked.

  “It was at that hospital opening, wasn’t it? Your uncle?” Sherman looked at Ashley.

  “Yeah, Uncle Marc’s new hospital,” Ashley confirmed.

  “You also call Lakon and Riker Montgomey Uncle, don’t you?” She nodded.

  “Tavist Darke is your father, right?” The blonde man asked. She nodded again. “Is West your husband’s last name?”

  I guess that’s me. I’m her husband…

  “No. Tav is really my stepfather. I guess we never got around to the adoption. West is my mother’s maiden name. I kept it,” Ashley answered him.

  “Was that hospital open
ing after you quit dancing for the London Modern Dance and Ballet?” The man asked. She nodded with a smile. “So what happened when you met?” He looked at Sherman again.

  “I was by the bar; she was near a chattering group of people.” Onscreen, Sherman took her hand drawing a deep growl from Myles. “I looked over and our eyes met.”

  Myles continued to growl. “I’ve never seen such stark hopelessness.” The man’s words shut him up.

  “Besides in the mirror you mean?” she smiled sadly.

  “From my own endless despair, I looked out into the eyes of winter,” Sherman squeezed her hand, bringing it to his lips.

  “A corporate raider with the soul of a poet.” Ashley rubbed the hand holding hers and then tugged away.

  “That begs another question, Sherman. Your company is in the top one hundred of the nation’s Fortune Five Hundred companies. What are you doing? Why are you two…” he couldn’t finish the question.

  “Dead babies,” they said together.

  “What do you mean? Did you both lose babies?” Myles held his breath. He didn’t think she’d gotten pregnant but…

  “The loss of hope, Harvey. Dead babies are the end of hopes and dreams.” At her words, Sherman leaned over and took her hand again.

  “The only babies we have lost are those we aren’t allowed to have.” Sherman rubbed her hand in his and released it. She crossed her arms in front and rubbed them as if chilled.

  “You are both estranged from your respective spouses, aren’t you?” the man asked them.

  “Good save, Harvey. Yes, in fact we are.” Ashley’s hands moved to her lap.

  “As well known as the two of you are, why do you do this?”

  “We’re having an affair, Harvey and this is the only way I can show her the world.” Sherman looked straight at the man as the camera moved in a little.

  “As you said, we’re both recognizable. However, nobody would notice us carrying on in the middle of a disaster now would they?” Ashley sounded serious, too.