Her Alpha Avengers [The Hot Millionaires #7] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
The Hot Millionaires #7
Her Alpha Avengers
Sabine Hilton, discovering that she’s been defrauded by her mother’s boyfriend, tracks him down to Florida. Lured to a lonely beach, she finds not the whistle-blower she’d gone there to meet but a corpse. Worse yet, the murderer is standing over the body.
Fin Landon and his buddies Otto Prentice and Gabriel Yorke convince Sabine that they didn’t kill anyone and that they too are looking for Pearson. Throwing in her lot with her three unlikely avengers, Sabine lets herself go and indulges in a wild sex fest with them.
The three commitment-phobes have at last found a woman they can all love, but first they need to help her find Pearson so she can get some sort of closure. But Sabine has other ideas. Not prepared to lean on them, she takes matters into her own hands, and her avengers must race against time to save her from her own folly…
Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length: 43,448 words
HER ALPHA AVENGERS
The Hot Millionaires #7
Zara Chase
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
HER ALPHA AVENGERS
Copyright © 2012 by Zara Chase
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62241-724-7
First E-book Publication: October 2012
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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HER ALPHA AVENGERS
The Hot Millionaires #7
ZARA CHASE
Copyright © 2012
Chapter One
“Come on, sweetness.” Sabine tugged at Mulligan’s leash, trying to drag him away from a spill on the parking lot’s tarmac that enthralled him. “We need to get to the doggy beach.”
Mulligan wagged his frondy tail but kept his nose buried in the spill.
“Please come on!” The urgency in Sabine’s voice reflected anxiety that had nothing to do with Mulligan’s preoccupation. “We won’t have the place to ourselves for much longer. We’ve got to meet this guy, and he was quite specific. If we’re late, he won’t wait.”
The dog was distracted by a kamikaze squirrel that dashed across the lot. He yelped and leapt forward, almost pulling Sabine from her feet in his optimistic attempt to pursue it. At least he was moving, she thought gratefully, even if he was heading the wrong way. She gave the dog’s ears an affectionate rub.
“We really need to do something about your sense of direction,” she told him. “Dogs are supposed to know these things instinctively. Still, you’ve been traumatised, what with being abandoned and all, so you’re forgiven.”
With the squirrel long gone and the spill forgotten, Mulligan trotted obediently enough beside Sabine as she headed for the dog beach. Mulligan, not the brightest of canines, finally recognized where they were and set up a volley of excited barking.
“Hey, we’re supposed to be working undercover,” she told him. “Best not blow it by making too much noise.”
Mulligan nodded his shaggy head like he understood but barked even louder.
“You’ll never make a good investigator,” she told him in a tone of mock severity, astonished by just how quickly she’d taken to the stupid mutt. She’d only owned him—if that’s what she actually did—for a few weeks, but already she couldn’t imagine life without him. “This situation calls for subtle. We don’t want to spook the guy. And just remember, you’re here to make me blend in. I mean, why would I be on a dog beach at the crack of dawn,” she reasoned, glancing at the fiery ball of sun just peeping up over the sea, “unless it was to walk a dog?”
She lost Mulligan’s attention as soon as they reached the sand. He knew he’d get to be free of his leash and splash in the ocean, chasing his ball, and was in a hurry to get going. He wound himself round Sabine’s legs, tying her up in the leash, wagging like crazy. Sabine laughed as she extracted herself, happy to give him his freedom whilst she concentrated on the meeting with her contact.
Finally.
“Don’t go near the turtles’ nests,” she warned him as she threw Mulligan’s ball as far out to sea as she could, smiling as he bounded after it with his ungainly gait, all lanky limbs and good-natured enthusiasm.
“Right, that’ll keep him occupied for a while,” Sabine said, doing what she always did when she was nervous, talking aloud to herself. “Now, where is this guy? By the main pier at the end of the dog beach, he said.”
She glanced about but couldn’t see anyone. He worked here, apparently, so he’d be dressed as a ranger. That didn’t help much since she had no idea what he looked like. Still, how many rangers would there be in this particular location at this ungodly hour?
None, it appeared. The place was deserted. She scanned the beach, shading her eyes with her hand even though they were already covered with sunglasses. The guy was nervous about meeting her, and it had taken her days of gentle cyber persuasion to set up this meeting.
“Do not let me down now, Spencer,” she said anxiously. “It’s taken me over a year to find a single lead, and you’re it.”
There was a small boat tied to one of the pier’s supports, close to shore, with a powerful-looking outboard lifted clear of the sea. She didn’t think private boats were allowed to dock there but was too anxious about Spencer’s nonappearance to give it much thought.
A noise coming from the dunes attracted her, and she turned away from the sea to see what it was. There was something, or someone, moving about. The tall grass was being pushed aside as if a person were running through it, crouched low. Sabine’s heart quickened. She’d been jumping at shadows these past days, seeing things that weren’t there, but this time she definitely knew something wasn’t right. That grass wouldn’t move on its own because there was no breeze to agitate it. The fauna and flora on the beach were more dormant than Sabine’s bank account.
Perhaps Spencer had come that way, and he’d called out to attract her attention. She was the only tall brunette with a shaggy great mutt on the beach, so he had to have recognized her. He’d been so wary about meeting her that perhaps he’d taken the scenic route to get here. She wasn’t the only one who was afraid of shadows.
She raised a hand in greeting, dashed up to the dune, and stopped so abruptly when she got there that she almost fell over her own feet.
“Oh, my God!”
She clapped a hand over her mouth, but a shriek slipped past it when she saw a small man dressed as a ranger lying flat on his back, blood pouring from a wound on the back of his skull. It darkened the sand beneath him only briefly before being absorbed into the arid earth like it had never existed. She didn’t need to touch him to know that he was dead. She could tell that by the vacant expression in his open eyes and the fact that he didn’t appear to be breathing.
But they weren’t Sabine’s only clues.
His murderer stooped directly over him, calmly rifling through his pockets. Shock and inertia gave way to fear. Sabine’s survival instincts kicked in, and she turned to run. She had no intention of being this man’s next victim. Before she could take two strides, a strong hand grasped her arm just above her elbow.
“He’s dead,” the owner of the hand said grimly.
“Well, obviously you’d know that because you killed him.”
Damn it, why couldn’t she pretend to be a flighty female and faint or something? That way he could escape, and she might get to see tomorrow. Unfortunately, Sabine wasn’t made that way, and if someone confronted her, she tended to give as good as she got.
“Come on, we’ve gotta get out of here.”
The guy turned toward the beach, seeming to think she’d calmly place herself in his murdering hands.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“You’d better, if you want to keep breathing.”
Fear caused common sense to evaporate. Instead of placating the man, she gave her aggression free rein. “What, don’t want to bump me off here as well? Getting picky about your murder locations, are you?”
“Don’t be so fucking stupid!” He placed his other hand on her shoulder and shook her. “I’m trying to help you.”
“What are you? My guardian angel?”
“Like it or not, right now I’m the only hope you’ve got.”
Is that supposed to make me feel better? “In that case, I’ll take my chances alone.”
She whistled to Mulligan, who, to her utter astonishment, came bounding straight up to her, shaking water all over them both. Good dog! So far he’d proven to be a stalwart protector and never had she felt greater need of that trait. She confidently expected him to bark at the murderer and sink his teeth into the guy’s shins. If he did that, she could escape, or at least get to the can of Mace she carried in the satchel slung across her body. Once again he surprised her by meekly sitting down and wagging those damned fronds.
“I don’t have time to discuss the issue,” the man said curtly. “If you wanna stay here and be fitted up for murder, then—”
“Me! That’s rich.” She shook her arm, hoping to dislodge his hand, but he only held her tighter. “You’re the murderer. Let me go, and I won’t say anything.”
God, how lame does that sound?
“Come on.”
He dragged her toward the sea, causing her to suppose that the boat illegally tied to the pier was his. Sabine put up one hell of a fight, but whatever she did, she couldn’t dislodge his hand from her arm.
“Let. Me. Go.”
“Not a chance. I know how it looks, but don’t fight me, goddamn it! I’m saving you from yourself.”
“Using me to save yourself, more like. Let me go, or I’ll set my dog on you.”
“Nice dog,” he said, scratching Mulligan’s big head with his free hand.
Mulligan, the traitorous mutt, lapped it up and didn’t show the slightest inclination to attack. The least he could have done would have been to growl, or bare his teeth, or pretend to be brave. He needed to be reminded who’d taken him in, fed him, and made a big fuss of him when no one else gave a toss about him.
The man actually managed a brief smile at Mulligan’s reluctance to come to her rescue. She shot him a scathing look that was ruined when she absorbed the full force of that smile of his, and a small exclamation slipped past her guard. Since when had murderers become so damned handsome? Weren’t they supposed to be hard, mean, and scar faced? Sabine shook her head, wondering if she was sickening for something. She was struggling for her life against some heartless gangster, and all she could think about was how devastatingly good looking he was.
Worse yet, she didn’t actually feel that afraid of him. Wasn’t it called the Stockholm syndrome? Something like that anyway, when captors turned captives to their way of thinking. If that’s what was happening here, he was a damned fast worker.
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on,” she said, striving for a reasonable tone. For a variety of reasons not necessarily connected with fear, her heart was thudding so loudly that she couldn’t hear herself speak over its pounding in her ears, so she was unsure if she’d succeeded. “But whatever it is, it doesn’t involve me. Just let me go. I’ll only slow you down.”
“Come on,” he said again, dragging her along. “I don’t have time to debate the issue with you, Sabine.”
She let out a yelp, and this time the drumming of her heart was all to do with fear. “How did you know my name?”
“In we go.”
They’d reached the edge of the water. Was she supposed to wade out to his damned boat? The hell with that! Presumably sensing her hesitation, he sighed and muttered something about stubborn women. Then he swooped her right off her feet, cradling her against a chest that felt like it had been carved out of granite. A bit like his heart, she supposed, the murdering bastard. He had deep-green eyes, brown hair that fell across them in thick, silky waves, and a cleft in a chin that sported at least a day’s worth of stubble. It suited him.
Sabine gave herself a mental shake. She was being abducted in almost broad daylight, and no one was about to help her. He’d probably chuck her over the side as soon as they got away from the shore, and that would be that. And yet, instead of plotting her escape, she was wasting time admiring her captor’s features. Rather than wasting time appreciating the view, she ought to do something to help herself. Struggle, bite, kick any parts of him within range of her feet. Any damned thing to let him know that she was no wuss.
Sabine did nothing. She just let him carry her like it was no big deal, feeling safe and comfortable in his arms. How screwy was that? And damn, he was strong! Sabine was five ten and weighed one forty—on a good day. Not that she’d been particularly good recently, she reminded herself guiltily, thinking of all the comfort junk she’d consumed since arriving in America. Then there was the weight of the heavy satchel she wore across her body. That had to add at least another fifteen pounds. She hoped the combined weight gave him a hernia.
/> No such luck, of course. He acted like she was a featherweight, and it took just a couple of strides of those long legs of his before they reached the boat and he dumped her into it.
“Stay!” he said, as though talking to Mulligan.
Like hell she would! She stood up, ready to leap out of the boat and make a dash for it. Unfortunately, her timing was off because Mulligan, at a softly spoken command from her abductor, jumped into the boat and knocked her right back down again. He seemed very pleased with himself and enthusiastically gave her face a thorough wash with his lolling pink tongue. Of all the times to get affectionate! By the time she’d pushed Mulligan away and managed to stand up again, the murderer had started the boat’s engine, let the rope go, and they were heading out to sea.
“You won’t get away with it,” she said, folding her arms beneath her breasts and glowering at him, wondering if she could leap over the side and swim to shore before he recaptured her. Probably not, but she was still desperate enough to give it a go. “Someone will have seen your boat.”
He shot her a speaking look that immediately shut her up. The only person to have seen the boat was her. Steering one-handed, he pulled a cell phone from his pocket and hit a key.
“He’s dead,” he said curtly to the person who answered. “Yeah, I know.” He listened. “She’s with me. There’s a green Jeep in the parking lot. Get it over to our place before questions are asked about it.”
“Hey, don’t you dare touch my car!”
He ignored her. “Get Otto to check her condo.” Sabine’s mouth fell open when he reeled off the address of her rented apartment. “She can’t stay there. They’re on to her. Get him to bring all her stuff back to the house.” He listened some more. “Right. I hear you. No, no it was definitely a setup. I can see flashing lights already. Someone called the cops the moment it went down. They wouldn’t have got here that quick otherwise.”