Passionate Obsession by D.M. Mortier
Chapter Twenty-Five
Mac
I have never felt so damn conspicuous in my life. I should be used to people staring at me because, at more than six and a half feet tall, I was usually the tallest person in any room. However, standing in the back of a crowded, predominantly black Baptist church in Atlanta, next to my dark-skin wife and lily-white twin sons, my miniature replicas, who clung to my wife, to say we drew attention was putting it mildly.
My face heated in a reluctant blush because I had deliberately brought this scrutiny on us. I had wanted to flaunt my ownership of Kat and blatantly show how fertile our relationship had been with the presence of our sons. Given the danger in store for all of us, and the escalating price tag on our heads, I should be ashamed of how ruthlessly uncaring I was to flaunt our presence here today.
And no one, seeing the saintly, charismatic, flamboyant Reverend Dr. Treyton Willard, or was it Reverend Bishop Treyton Willard? I don’t know, nor do I care! But no one seeing that saintly bastard would blame me for marking my territory. I hated to admit it, but the bastard was handsome and suave. And I understood perfectly why women would flock to him. The congregation was ninety-five percent women! And more than half of them were under thirty years old.
Still, I had to show the saint that Kat was mine. I was determined that he noted every inch of her belonged to me. That I had been all up in that. I smiled viciously as I looked down at her, looking so sophisticated, so prim and proper in her elegant Chanel crème-colored dress, cinched at her waist with a gold accent belt. Her V-neckline couldn’t contain her generous bosom and a pencil skirt ending just above her knees, which only emphasized the voluptuous curves of her ass and the length of her gorgeously long legs. Yeah, she might look serene and sophisticated, but those marks on her neck and bosom, no matter how she tried to hide them, told how hot she had recently been for me. Not even her rapid healing could hide my amorous marks.
If good old, saintly Bishop Willard had heard the cries, the pleading, the shrieking she’d done for me a few hours ago as she gripped my cock in her tight channel, he would be emptying that flask of holy water all over Kat’s head.
She had been pissed with me for making her wear that dress. But no amount of pleading, sulking, or glaring would sway me. And to make sure she wore what I wanted her to, I had ruthlessly destroyed every other article of clothing she had brought with her, except for her tight pair of jeans and a tank. I told her that if she wanted to wear that instead, I was perfectly okay with those too. The dress won, hands down.
“The men who are after him are here,” she whispered under her breath, knowing that I would hear her and would act accordingly.
I melted from my seat as Saint Treyton preached on.
There were six of them. With Imani’s shield, even without my super strength, it would have been child’s play to disarm and incapacitate the mercenaries. However, I did have super strength and speed, so not only did I disarm and incapacitate them, but I was able to deposit them in the waiting van for their transport.
It was Kat’s idea of how to deal with them, and I liked it. The van, being driven by men who worked for the Agency, would relocate the bastards to the United States Penitentiary of Atlanta. In a few hours, those men would be waking up in various cell blocks, having a hell of a time trying to explain their way out of there. Thanks to the Director, they would spend years trying to be heard.
I returned to Kat’s side less than ten minutes later, and the Saint was still blowing his pipes. I simmered with rage at how rapt she seemed to be with every word out of his mouth. She didn’t even acknowledge my return, despite the arm I threw around the back of her seat, my fingers sinking into the silky depths of her hair. She acted as though I were a bloody old shoe to be picked up and put down on a whim! I was fuming, throwing an internal tantrum, and didn’t care if she knew. I hoped she picked up on it. Hell, I hoped she realized how close I was to carrying her ass out of here.
“What is wrong with him, Mama?” Liam whispered. However, it wasn’t much of a whisper because several people turned to frown at him.
I smirked evilly when one old lady had the nerve to look at me with disapproval stamped in her expression. She was clearly trying to reprimand me for not teaching Liam how to behave in church. The saint was exhibiting all the traits of a typical minister in some black churches, who sometimes erupted in a rhythmic, rhetorical emphasis and dramatic speech that, for our Bishop Willard, was sounding suspiciously like a chant and sometimes a song or rap. Personally, I found it highly entertaining because I knew Kat hated it. She had told me once that she had always loved the elegance, pageantry, and soothing calm of a Catholic service. So, I had to wonder how the hell she’d thought she could have ever reconciled herself to be this guy’s “first lady” of the church.
“It’s the way they preach in a Baptist church, honey,” Kat whispered. “It’s different from what you’re used to, but it is an important part of you. It’s an important part of the African American heritage.”
“Why?” Colin frowned up at her.
“I will explain later, honey,” she told him calmly, ignoring the old lady, who was now turned completely in her seat to give us a disapproving glare. Kat smile serenely back at her.
I maintained my dark smirk and wished like hell that I had Kat’s ability to snatch senses. That old biddy would be blind and deaf right now.
An hour later, we stood at the entrance of the sanctuary along with the large congregation waiting for an opportunity to greet the Saint. Yeah, although Kat was right in coming here to save his ass, it didn’t mean I had to like it.
The look of shock, and unholy lust, on the Saint’s face when he saw Kat had me wanting to smash his handsome face in. The Saint’s lusty gaze roamed her entire figure, her legs, the long slit in her skirt that reached mid-thigh, her shapely hips, and enticing bosom. If the bastard even hinted at ever being intimate with her, I would level him. I know she came to me a virgin, but she wasn’t completely innocent. No woman who gave head as skillfully as she did was innocent. Jesus! I hated that fucking image in my head.
“Katia? Is that you?” The Saint moved forward and embraced her before I realized the bastard intended to touch her.
I wrapped my arm around her waist possessively. What the fuck?! Didn’t he get the message from my markings on her? The ring on her left hand? Mine! I was feeling all territorial and elemental male. I pulled Kat away from him in blatant male jealousy. I didn’t give a fuck that it made me look like a primitive asshole.
She had the nerve to frown up at me as if to say, You’re being a jealous fool again.
And I gave her a long look that said, Yeah, and what’s your fucking point? Yup, I’m that jealous fool she was accusing me of. As long as he wasn’t touching her and she wasn’t touching him, I would live with whatever damn label she wanted to give me. She had better be grateful that the fucker was still breathing.
She looked away to smile gently at the saint. “Hello, Treyton.” Kat’s smooth sultry voice washed over my senses, and I couldn’t help tightening my arm around her.
The Saint, ignoring the rest of his congregation, stared down at Kat intently. “How are you here?” He gazed at her with awed fascination.
Yeah, Kat looked sensational. Elegant, classy, and sexy as hell. I get it. Still, what the fuck!
“The doctors told me that you were dead. We even had a funeral service for you and everything.” His gaze was glued on her, sparing not even a glance for me or our boys.
“Is there some place we can speak privately?” Kat asked him quietly.
“Sure.” The Saint was too damn eager as far as I was concerned.
“Bishop?” An impatient female voice intruded. “You have a luncheon with the pastors of the church,” she reminded him. The woman placed her hand on the Saint’s arm in a show of possession and stared daggers at Kat.
Kat smiled at her serenely.
The Saint gave the woman an impatient look. “I have to speak to Katia. Go ahead and let them know that I will be delayed.”
“But they will be waiting for you at the restaurant and won’t start until you get there,” she persisted.
“Sister Evelyn, please apologize for me.” Treyton spoke softly, but the impatience in his demeanor was unmistakable.
“Do you want me to stay and take notes for this meeting?” Sister Evelyn was nothing if not persistent, and she hadn’t removed her glare from Kat’s face once.
“Trey, we have to speak to you,” Kat told him gently. “What my husband and I have to say is very important.” She wrapped her arm around my waist. Although I knew that she did it for Sister Evelyn’s benefit, it went a long way to assuaging my anger. “This is my husband, Andrew, and our sons, Liam and Colin. We urgently need to speak to you.”
The green-eyed monster of jealousy wasn’t completely gone from Sister Evelyn’s gaze, but at least she didn’t look ready to scratch Kat’s eyes out anymore.
“Yes, of course,” Treyton told Kat. “Sister Evelyn, please convey my apologies.” He turned to Kat. “It seems we have a lot to discuss,” he said in a hard voice. “I am most interested in how you’ve gone from being my fiancée to being another man’s wife and mother of his children.” There was a trace of bitterness in his voice and demeanor as he turned to escort us through the building.
As soon as he led us into a well-lit and air-conditioned office, which we could see was clearly his domain, I stepped in front of him, deliberately standing close and looking down at him, which forced him to look up to me. “Just so we understand each other, my wife owes you nothing,” I drawled. “Don’t ever speak to her like that again.”
Kat placed her palm on my chest and stepped in between us, which forced me back because I didn’t want her that damn close to the saint.
I wrapped an arm around her again, pulling her close to me. With her palm still on my chest, she settled against my side as if she and I were joined at the hip and as if she was made to fit against me just so. Yeah, finally! All the anger I was feeling from when we woke in England drained out of me. I felt mellow as hell.
“Trey, you have every right to ask questions and be upset,” Kat said gently. “If the situation were reversed, I know that I would have been angry.” Kat looked at our sons as if to assure herself that they were okay.
I almost grinned with pride and satisfaction at their stance near the door to the office. They stood perfectly still, their legs apart, their arms folded, and their eyes gleaming with alertness. Already, they were used to being on their guard and ready to protect Kat.
“I didn’t contact you before because I couldn’t without placing you in danger.” We all sat as Kat spent almost an hour explaining the situation with the saint without reference to the serum or our abilities. She told him just enough for him to understand the danger we were in and, by extension, how much danger he was in by association.
“Of course, my husband will deal with Dr. Everette and Dr. Forbes in the next few weeks.”
Yeah, and after the solution Kat gave me for the mercenaries, because she refused to kill anyone, I was thinking up a particularly interesting place for our scientists.
“In the meantime, we need you to take a vacation, perhaps take Sister Evelyn with you.” Kat smiled at the frown on both my and the saint’s face. Yeah, I wouldn’t wish that female on anyone.
“I have been meaning to take some time, but I need a few days to clear my calendar.”
“You have a few hours,” I told him coolly. I might not still be pissed with Kat for being here with him, but I still couldn’t like the bastard. He was too damn saintly. And it didn’t help how understanding he was being. Full of bloody forgiveness and humbleness. He had to be faking this shit. If Kat ever left me like she did him, blood would be spilled. Just sayin’!
“I don’t—”
“Look, I just removed six mercenaries from your ass today.” Okay, so I wasn’t being very respectful, and the sharp elbow to my side from Kat told me that. I sighed and spoke with a little less surliness. “Given the resources these scientists have, that number will be quadrupled when they realize that we are in the city and helped you escape their trap. I have a jet ready to take you and whoever else you need to an island I own in Greece. You and your guest will remain there until the scientists are dealt with.”
“You own an island?” Kat gave me a look of incredibility.
“We own several islands, lass.” I smirked.
She shook her head and gave me a frown as if I were embarrassing her with our wealth. Yeah, with Saint Treyton around, I guess I was a disappointment.
“Trey, I’m sorry that this is all sudden and disrupts your life, but these people are very dangerous, and killing you would mean nothing to them.”
Of course, the saint acquiesced to her gentle entreaty. It was almost worth all the heartache when good old Treyton escorted a pretty young thing onto the jet with him. A pretty young thing that he wasn’t married to, I couldn’t help stressing to Kat as they boarded the jet.
“You forget, I had been tracking Trey for years. I know better than anyone all his sins.” And she had the audacity to smirk at me.
I scowled because we both knew that she never kept such close tabs on me.
As I placed Kat and the boys on a jet to Ireland, the land of my ancestral castle, I took another jet to the Bahamas. With the Director’s blessing and the assured support of the Agency as backup for an international mission, we were going for the generals and the scientists. After the confirmation from Kat that our targets were still in Cuba, there would be no better opportunity than now to get rid of those bastards once and for all.
With Colt and Justin in place on a yacht in the Bahamas, I used the Agency’s considerable influence to prepare the extraction packages out of Cuba. Colt was chomping at the bit to retrieve the generals and wasn’t too happy about my several hours’ delay in Atlanta.