Wounded Birds (The Grayson Series Book 1) Read online

  “This baby is the Dräger Drug Tester 5000 Analyzer,” he says with pride. “The analyzer is used to conduct random drug test on employees. I’m going to have it analyze Ariana’s saliva.”

  I’m startled by the sounds of footsteps from the terrace. I gasp as I gape at a tall man in a beige sports coat wearing a pair of black jeans and T-shirt. This must be Trent. He might be the youngest of the three, but damn, he’s built larger and taller than the other two. His hair is a golden blond, and he has big green cat-like eyes and long, thick lashes.

  “Thanks again for coming so fast,” Michael comments to Trent.

  “No problem.” Trent gives Michael a pat on the back.

  “Hey, Trent, great seeing you,” Josh says with an enormous grin over his face.

  “Same here. What are you doing?” Trent asks with curiosity, inspecting the machine.

  “I’m testing Ariana’s saliva.”

  I jump as the machine beeps, printing out a piece of paper. I stare at Josh with intensity as he runs his fingers through his hair. Do they all do that?

  “Well, what’s the verdict Josh,” Michael asks as he paces the room with a nervous edge to him.

  “The results came back with minimal traces of Xanax. She’ll feel tired, but Ariana will be fine.” Josh explains.

  So that’s what he tainted the chocolates with that bastard. I fold my arms across my chest. I jump as the divider collapses on the floor, producing an earsplitting crack that echoes throughout the apartment.

  “Shit! Not a smooth move,” I mutter to myself, and when I look up, my jaw drops as I watch all three men spin on their heels, alert and ready to attack. I go numb and feel the blood drain from my face and not because of their shocking faces. I’m staring at Trent, who is holding up a gun with a steady hand pointed at me. I freak out and let out a loud scream. “Jesus Christ, don’t shoot,” I squeal out as my knees buckle, and I crumble alongside the divider.

  “Damn you, Trent. Put the gun away,” Michael yells and rushes to my side.

  The huge gulp of air I sucked in is caught, and I can’t breathe. Everything is a blur. I’m on my hands and knees and my body chooses to go Jell-O on me as I struggle to get my sorry butt off the floor. I think my whole life just flashed before me. What did I get myself into?

  Michael grasps me by the arms, his warm hands penetrating into my flesh. I stare at his black shoes and follow the path of his long, muscular legs to his face, and our eyes meet, and a tingling sensation washes over me.

  “Now, do you think you can stand on your own?” He asks, and his facial expression changes from concerned to disturbed. The realization hits him. I was instructed to call him if I needed help getting out of bed. I didn’t follow orders from the commander-in-chief. I ease my way up to a standing position, and I salute him.

  “Don’t be a smart-ass, Ariana. What the hell were you doing behind the partition? You’re supposed to be resting,” He exclaims with a dark expression shadowing his face as he picks up the divider.

  “I wanted to know what was going on and to be honest; I don’t want you gentlemen involved.” I glance at his brothers with regret and worry about their welfare. How can I live with myself if something goes wrong and they get injured or worse? I can’t even think of the latter.

  “Too late,” he scolds, his voice raised and eyes cold and hard.

  I can feel the heat surging just beneath my skin. I am beyond furious, not only at him but also at myself for allowing this man to bully me. If I had the energy, I would choke this arrogant, overconfident, pompous ass. Hands on hips, I glower at Michael with lips pressed in a hard line and narrow eyes.

  Michael frowns, his expression overwrought with mixed emotions—worry, concern, and panic—but I don’t care.

  Both Trent and Josh back away as I approach their brother, glaring at him. I’m sorry Michael dragged them into this mess, and I’m wondering if that thought ever crossed their minds, or maybe not. They’re probably cut out of the same cloth. Bossy, egotistical asses.

  I let out a long breath, feeling fatigued from the wine and drug. The raw rage that was coursing through me has vanished. All I want to do now is settle beneath the covers of my bed and sleep. “We’ll. Discuss. This. Tomorrow. I’m too tired to argue,” I say through gritted teeth, poking him in the chest, my eyes growing wider with anger.

  He breathes a sigh of relief, and a few whistles reverberate in the background. “Let me help you to bed. I’ll check in on you after I speak to my brothers.”

  “Michael, I can take myself. I’ll call you in the morning,” I huff out.

  Michael gapes at me with a befuddled look on his face. “Ariana, I’m not leaving you by yourself. I’ll sleep in the guestroom. I promise to be a perfect gentleman.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

  “You are going home, Michael. I appreciate all you’ve done for me.” I hold my head to ease the pain and take a deep breath to calm my temper. I knew he was going to be a handful. “Thank you for everything. You’ve been such an angel,” I say with a genuine smile.

  He stares at me, bemused, speechless as if no one has ever called him an angel.

  Josh and Trent chuckle, making sly remarks, smirking at Michael.

  “Angel?” Trent asks, both his eyebrows lifted as he looks at Michael.

  “Michael?” Josh queries and they both erupt into fits of laughter.

  “You must be mistaking Michael for someone else,” Trent chirps in.

  “Shut the hell up,” Michael shouts, glaring at his brothers over his shoulder.

  He turns back with smiling eyes. “Angel,” he whispers, brushing his fingers across my cheeks. The sweet sting of his touch warms my inner soul, making my heart pitter-patter. “That’s a first. I’ve never been called an angel before,” he says proudly. “I know I can be a bit overbearing at times,” he says.

  “A bit,” I answer with a sarcastic tone, and his brothers snicker.

  He holds his hands up. “Okay, maybe that was an understatement. I guess my natural instincts as a man to protect you took over.” He shrugs, and his face softens. “I phoned for a nurse earlier. I’ll call them for confirmation.”

  He walks over to the sofa and retrieves his cell phone from his jacket and taps it a few times. “This is Michael Grayson. I’m calling to confirm the nurse I hired to care for Miss Ariana DiMarco for this evening . . . yes . . . at nine . . . and her name? Tina O’Conner . . . Thank you.” He ends the call, shoves his phone into his pants pocket and rubs the back of his neck.

  I glance at the time, and the damn numbers won’t stay still. I laugh at myself. I’m besotted, not only from the drug and wine but from the man standing before me.

  Trent approaches us. He’s the biggest of the three. His physique is almost double the size of Michael and Josh. Okay, so I’m exaggerating a bit, but the man is big and husky with a lot of muscle.

  “Miss DiMarco, my name is Trent. I’m the youngest and cutest.” I have to chuckle at his comment. Trent is also self-assured.

  You can’t deny it; he is blessed in the gorgeous-male department, in fact, all the Graysons’ are. Trent possesses a youthful bad-boy appearance with short, blond military-style hair that emphasizes his green eyes.

  Michael and Josh cough at Trent’s comment.

  “Sorry, for the interruption. They’re a tad jealous of me.” He points to his brothers. “A pleasure to meet you, Ariana. I’m a big fan. I’ve watched your show several times. I own Grayson Investigations and Security.”

  I extend a hand to shake his, and he grabs me, pressing me up against his solid chest, lifting me off the ground with a fierce bear hug, deflating my lungs. “A pleasure . . . to meet you as well,” I manage to spill out, panting for breath.

  “Trent, enough! She can’t breathe for God’s sake,” Michael scolds.

  Trent places me down, and I take an invigorating breath of air into my poor lungs. Sweet Jesus is he strong.

  “Trent, Josh, thank you both for coming out. I appreciate all your h
elp. Now, if you gentlemen don’t mind, I’m a bit tired and I’d like to get to bed.”

  “We understand. It was a pleasure meeting you Ariana. I’m relieved it wasn’t a life and death situation. Be careful,” Josh says with a smile.

  “The same applies here,” Trent says and gives me another big hug and kisses me on the cheek.

  “I’ll walk you to your room,” Michael offers as I head in that direction. Michael startles me in the library as he lifts me up off the floor. I wrap my arms around his neck afraid that I might fall. He kicks the doors open with his foot and lays me on the bed, but I can’t release the hold around his neck.

  “Ariana … sweetheart, this is only going to work if you let go of me.” He grins, his eyes soft, sparkling with speckles of turquoise in his green eyes.

  I ease my arms away from his thick neck. A chuckle rumbles through his chest. He pulls the duvet over me, making me all warm, snug, and cozy. He turns down the bedside table lamp to low. He leans over to tuck me in. He examines the bump on my head, and I flinch from the pain.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he murmurs. I shake my head and gaze into those eyes, getting lost for endless miles. God, he’s breathtaking. I start when Michael says something, interrupting my fantasy.

  “Ariana, I need a few words with my brothers before I chase them out. The nurse will be staying here with you for the next two evenings. I’ll head back home after she arrives. I’ll swing by sometime tomorrow night. I have several meetings scheduled, but I’ll be calling periodically to check in on you.”

  “I don’t need a baby-sitter.” I exhale out, all flustered and angry with Michael and his authoritative, commanding demeanor.

  “Ariana, I’m done arguing with you. You heard what Josh said. Unless you want to pay a visit to the hospital.”

  “No,” I blurt out.

  “I knew you’d say that. Good night, Ariana. It was ... eventful,” he whispers, bending toward me, and his sweet breath brushes over my face.

  “I’m sorry we missed the opera.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll go another night. Please, promise me one thing,” he whispers against my ear, making me shiver.

  “W-what?” I stutter.

  “You wear the sexy dress you wore earlier this evening with the pair of four-inch red heels that caught my eye when I was in your closet,” he pleads, nuzzling his face in the nape of my neck, making every cell in my body dance with glee.

  I nod, and rush out, “good night, Michael.” He pulls away and stands there with a pleased look on his face. He leans down and places a kiss on my nose and walks out.

  Chapter 6

  The Flowers He Planted

  I wake up to the soft ray of sunlight filtering through the sheer drapes. I squeeze my eyes shut and release a frustrated breath as I begin to recall yesterday’s drama, sending chills up and down my spine.

  I rise from the pillows and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. I’m startled by a voice and jerk up to find a red headed woman in a ponytail standing at the doorway, wearing a white shirt and dark blue jeans. She appears to be in her fifties.

  “Good morning, Miss DiMarco,” she greets me with a unique accent.

  “Good morning,” I reply back with wary look. She must be the R.N. Michael hired.

  “My name is Tina O’Conner, but you can call me Tina. I’m the nurse Mr. Grayson hired to look after you for two evenings. Did you sleep well?”

  I smile mesmerized by her sweet Irish accent. “Yes, like a baby, thank you. I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to meet last night. I fell right to sleep from pure exhaustion. Were you able to find everything you needed?” I ask sounding groggy.

  “No need to apologize, my dear. Mr. Grayson was accommodating. I’m glad to hear you slept well. I was worried you wouldn’t fall back to sleep after I woke you up several times during the night to make sure you were okay.”

  “I hadn’t noticed. I must have been in a coma,” I say with a smile. “What time did Mr. Grayson leave?”

  She pauses for a moment. “I think he left about eleven. He was working on his laptop and on the phone. Would you like me to call him for you?”

  Just the mention of Michael’s name has my heart over the moon and doing somersaults. “No. Thank you,” I blurt out.

  “How about some breakfast?”

  I nod. “Yes, please.” I slide off the bed and sway as I plant my feet on the cool wood floor. Tina rushes over, taking hold of my elbow and shoulder.

  “Are you steady now, my dear? I think you stood up too fast.”

  I take a few steps, regaining my balance. “Yes, I’m fine now, thank you.”

  “The security guard downstairs buzzed earlier,” Tina says. “A Melinda Candles wanted to come up. She said she was your cleaning lady. I told her you were still sleeping and to come back later. I hope that was okay with you.”

  “Of course, it slipped my mind. I forgot all about her, thank you, Tina.”

  “Call me if you need me,” Tina calls out as she leaves the room.

  I nod and walk toward my enormous bathroom, which is the size of one of the guestrooms. I’m blessed and thank my grandfather every day for the generous gift he left me.

  I brush my teeth and stare at the lump sitting above the temple. I wince, and with a gentle touch I press over it. Damn, this hurts like hell.

  I take a long hot shower. I’m extra careful when I wash my hair, avoiding the bump, now black and blue. At least my long bangs can cover most of the bruised area.

  I dress in a pair of jeans and black tank top along with a lightweight baby-blue sweater. I slip into my Ralph Lauren loafers.

  I’m rejuvenated and refreshed with a clearer mind. Amazing what a good night’s sleep and a shower can do for you. I stare at myself in the mirror, brushing the long, thick black hair I inherited from my grandfather, along with his piercing blue eyes. I have my mother’s height and stand at five foot seven, just six inches below Michael. My father was the same height as Michael.

  I brush over the swelled bump by accident, and the cold realization slaps me hard across the face. There is a psychopathic stalker out there taunting me, having immoral fantasies about me and sending me as he so calls them, love letters, but the most disturbing part is that he knew about my lunch with Michael and where I live. He must have been following me. Damn it.

  As I stare at myself in the mirror Michael’s face flashes before me. I won’t confess this to him, but I’m relieved he was with me and grateful to Trent and Josh, who are willing to go out of their way to help me.

  The wonderful aroma of bacon and eggs catches my attention. I pop my head into the kitchen, and Tina is pouring a cup of coffee. “Smells wonderful,” I say.

  “Why, thank you, Miss DiMarco. I hope they taste as good, although my husband never complains.”

  I laugh. “Most men won’t ever complain. Put a plate of food in front of them, and they’ll eat with glee.” I giggle. “And, please, call me Ariana.”

  “Thank you, Ariana, would you like your meal outside or in here?” she asks, holding the breakfast dish.

  “The counter would be perfect. It’s too cold at this hour for the terrace,” I answer, gazing out through the glass doors.

  She sets the plate down, and I begin to devour the mouthwatering feast before me, savoring every morsel. I had no idea how hungry I was.

  “Has Mr. Grayson called?” I ask, not wanting to sound anxious.

  “Yes, he phoned at six and seven this morning. He said he’ll be calling back around nine.”

  I glance at the clock on the wall, reading eight thirty, and I smile waiting with anticipation. To soothe my anxiety, I gaze at the radiant colors on the foliage nestled on the trees, a reminder of autumn.

  That reminds me . . . the charity ball is approaching. The theme is a masquerade on Halloween night. I’ve been preparing this event for eight months. This is going to be such a special evening for the ladies. I can’t wait to capture their excitement and glowing
faces.

  I’ve decided to dress up as Cleopatra, the Queen of the Nile. Blake and Francis will be joining me. I could ask Michael to come along and dress as Mark Antony, but him being at the event may spark up a thousand questions, which I’m not comfortable answering now, or maybe never.

  I squirm in my chair like a schoolgirl, waiting for Michael’s call. I’m spinning with a multitude of emotions—joy, bliss, ecstasy, anxiety, terror, and panic all rolled into one ball. I don’t know what to do with these feelings. He has me all twisted up in knots.

  I dated a few handsome, successful men after Danny, nothing serious. Nevertheless, not one has ever made me feel so alive and roaring with want. I won’t lie to myself. I find him attractive, and we share a powerful chemistry between us, but it scares the hell out of me. After so many years of formidable darkness in my soul, Michael gallops into my life and triggers the light that once glowed with vibrant colors inside me.

  I start when the phone rings. God, he couldn’t wait another fifteen minutes. Tina hands me the cordless, and I push the talk button to answer.

  “Hello, Mr. Grayson,” I answer, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Well . . . well . . . well . . . sorry to disappoint you, baby doll.”

  I gasp and freeze, feeling the blood drain away from my face making me light-headed and numb. I glance toward Tina, unable to speak. My heart is beating painfully against my ribs.

  “I love you sweetie, please don’t be scared. I’ll never hurt you. You belong to me. We are going to marry one day. Hello?”

  “W-who is this?” I stutter out, my heart enlarged in my throat. The slime sounds like he comes from a toxic waste dump.

  “You’ll know soon enough, baby doll,” he answers with a terrifying laugh.

  “What do you want?” Silence. “Hello . . . hello,” I call out, but only the piercing sound of a dial tone vibrates from the phone. I place the receiver on the table with trembling hands and move away to the other side of the counter and sit. I place my hands over my chest to ease my racing heart.