Resisting the Brit

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Resisting the Brit Page 16

by Blair, Emelia


  Honestly, I don’t regret signing the contract. Working under Caleb provides me a lot of freedom since he trusts me. The only thing that eats at me is that now when Oliver leaves, it will be it. He hasn’t discussed his future plans with me, and I don’t know how to bring them up without getting my heart crushed. So, I’m taking this one day at a time, enjoying the feeling of being in love.

  “Well…” Terrence glances toward me. “The treatment will start tomorrow. It should be easy enough.” He starts discussing medicines. Most of it goes over my head. But Oliver trusts him, which means I trust him.

  “Thank you for this, Terrence.” When I smile, the man’s lip curve, his eyes lighting up. “Of course. When Oliver told me about you, I was so taken aback. But I’ve never seen him this happy. I almost didn’t recognize him when I saw him on coming here. Whatever you’re doing, it’s working.”

  His words warm me from the inside as I walk him out.

  I return to retrieve my purse. “All right, Dad. You’re settled?”

  My father nods weakly, and I touch him lightly on the shoulder. “Then, I’ll leave.”

  He opens his mouth, then glances at Fred. I understand his intent, and I shake my head. “Later, Dad.”

  I walk out, brushing past Fred, almost as if he doesn’t exist. The sentimental part of me that still holds on to memories of the past recoils in pain, and I wonder how easy it would be to just let go of everything. To give him a hug so things can go back to normal. I wish it were that simple, but things between us can never be the same again.

  I can see the pain on his face, but I stomp on my heart and walk past him.

  I know Oliver is working from home today. It makes me all tingly inside to think he’s waiting at home for me. He barely lives in the apartment the company gave him. Half his clothes are at my place. He spends nearly every night on and inside me.

  I have to do some grocery shopping on the way, then decide to pick up a pizza. After I park my car in the garage, I take the elevator to my floor. Humming under my breath, I’ve just stuck my key in the lock when something cold and metallic presses against my neck and a familiar voice murmurs, “Not a sound.”

  I freeze. Matt grabs me by the upper arm, then whirls me around until my back hits the door with a thud. Heart clenched with fear, I stare into the harsh lines of his face. There is a cruel glint in his eyes as he whispers, “Hello, Lana.”

  “What the hell do you want?” I hiss, forcing down my terror. “My family’s debt is cleared!”

  His eyes rake over my body, his smile holding no warmth.

  My blood runs cold.

  The gun is now buried in my abdomen. I hear the slow deliberate click of the safety being removed.

  “Do you know how long I’ve had my eye on you?” he questions, his tone oddly contemplative. “The first time I met your brother was when he came to ask me for a loan. When I came to demand the first payment, you answered the door. That was quite a few years ago, so you probably don’t remember. I asked for you at that time, but he refused. He fought me. Then he came back, begging for more money. I made sure to extend his payments so he kept taking more and more until he was drowning in debt.”

  He smirks.

  “I was going to push him into a position where he had no choice but to hand you to me on a platter.”

  My heart races at his words, waves of hot anger beating at me as he continues. “All I had to do was tell him that I’d stop your father’s treatment if he didn’t do as I say, so he did exactly as I expected he would. He was introducing you to me, defending me to you.” He steps closer until I can feel his breath on my face. “Did you think repaying off the loan would make me back off?”

  He lifts one hand to brush the hair off my face, then, in a deceptively gentle voice, says, “I invested years in you, Lana. I know your type so well—proud, stubborn. Breaking you would be so much fun.”

  My body trembles with disgust as he trails his fingers down my jaw and neck until his hand circles my neck. I bite out, “That sounds like a personal problem to me. Get your hands off me!”

  I try to push him off me, but he digs the gun in deeper. Again, I freeze.

  “Let’s go inside where we have more privacy.”

  Oliver’s inside!

  “I’m not opening the door,” I growl. He tightens his hand on my throat just as I hear a shout from the fire escape exit.

  “Get away from her!” Fred rushes toward us, his face taut with anger. I use Matt’s distraction to push the gun away.

  Matt’s face is cold. He raises his gun in Fred’s direction, calmly saying, “You’ve outlived your usefulness.”

  I throw myself at him as the loud shot rings throughout the hallway.

  “Fred,” I scream. He’s holding his arm, blood spreading over the pale white of his shirt. I try to rush toward him, but Matt pulls me back and tosses me onto the ground as he aims at my brother again. Overcome with fear and adrenaline, I grab Matt’s leg and yank, making fall down on his face. The gun goes off, ricocheting off the wall, only to hit the carpet at Fred’s feet.

  Matt snarls, trying to grab me, just as the door opens and Oliver steps on his hand. He looks down, his tone mild. “The police are on their way. Terribly unfortunate how you broke so many bones while falling down the stairs.”

  “W-what?” Matt’s confidence wavers. Oliver grinds his foot down on Matt’s hand, making him whimper. Before I can open my mouth, he says, “Go tend your brother.” And then he hauls Matt up by the back of his shirt and throws him inside the apartment, the door slamming shut behind them.

  I blink in shock at the sudden proceedings. But then, hearing Fred’s pained moan, I scramble to my feet and rush over to him. “Are you— How badly are you hurt?”

  “The bullet went through,” he whispers, his face pale. “Are you okay?”

  I swallow, ignoring the way my dress is torn from my shoulder, not remembering when it happened. “I’m fine. We need to call an ambulance.” I frantically fumble for my phone, my eyes burning and my face hot.

  “It’s just a flesh wound, Lana,” Fred tries to reassure me.

  I shake off his words. “Then why are you bleeding?”

  After I manage to call an ambulance, the wait is terrible.

  “What were you thinking?” I scold him. “What if he actually managed to kill you?”

  “What did you expect me to do?” he growls back. “Let him hurt you?”

  “You were willing to let him do that before,” I quietly point out.

  Fred’s face blanches. He shakes his head, his voice small. “I would have stopped him. Even if something were to happen to Dad, I would have stopped him. I never meant—Lana, I never meant for any of this to happen.”

  My shoulders droop. “Well, it did.”

  I have my scarf pressed against his wound. The bleeding has slowed. Fred is looking worse for the wear, and he doesn’t seem to be able to talk much. He’s leaning against me, face wan. Barely ten minutes have passed until the door to my apartment opens. Oliver steps out, tossing an unconscious Matt on the floor. The man is bruised up, having been beaten so brutally that my mouth goes dry.

  “What did you do to him?” I gasp out, and Oliver raises a brow. “I taught him not to mess with what’s mine. You all right there, Fred?”

  Weakly, Fred nods.

  I finally hear the sirens, relief filling me.

  The police and the paramedics arrive at the same time.

  Matt is carted away. As Fred is tended to, I sit by his side, holding his hand. We both know that forgiveness isn’t going to be an easy journey, but we will get there. I ride with him to the hospital. It’s midnight by the time Oliver and I finally get home.

  At some point, Oliver brought in the groceries before coming to the hospital. They’re on the counter, unattended. Although I’m tired, I move to put them away only to be stopped by Oliver.

  “What’s bothering you?”

  “Nothing.” I purse my lips.

  He
guides me to the couch, then drags me into his lap. “Something’s been bothering you for days. I want to hear it.”

  It’s been too hectic of a day for me to get into this, so I snap, “Well, maybe I don’t want to talk about it!”

  He keeps holding me so I can’t get up. His tone is calm as well as exceedingly arrogant. “Well, good thing I didn’t ask your permission. Tell me.”

  I’m getting more and more agitated. “Look, things are great between us. Why are you trying to ruin it?”

  “I don’t believe that is what I am trying to do.”

  I glare. “Go ahead. Make your jokes. I hope you’re laughing when you’re all the way back in London while I’m stuck here.”

  He blinks, clearly confused. “Why am I going to London?”

  My lower lip trembles, but I firm it. “Well, aren’t you, once your job is over?”

  He raises a brow. “No.”

  The casual denial makes me blink. “What?” I raise my head, dumbstruck. “What do you mean?”

  Oliver shrugs. “I don’t want to go back to London. You aren’t going to be there. So, when Caleb offered to keep me on as a consultant, I said yes.”

  My heart is drumming so loudly in my chest I fear he can hear it. “You’re not going back?”

  Oliver flashes me a smile before pressing his lips to my forehead. “How can I when my heart is in D.C.?”

  I furiously brush away the tears forming in my eyes. “Oh… Oh.”

  I reach for him, then cling to him. I’ve suddenly learned how to breathe again. If he feels his shirt getting wet, he doesn’t say anything.

  “You won’t leave,” I say loudly, more for my own benefit than his.

  Oliver’s mouth is on any exposed skin he can reach. “Not if I can help it. And I if I do, you’re coming with me, contract or no contract.”

  I ignore his words, the contentment flowing through me. If he stays, there is hope. I can stick it out if Oliver is by my side. The sigh that leaves my lips is one of relief. “Oh, thank God.” I lean my forehead against his. “I was so scared of losing you. I’ve never been in love—”

  At his stunned look, I suddenly realize what I’ve said. Suddenly, he crowds me into the sofa, demanding, “Say that again.”

  My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

  “Lana, do you love me?” he asks. Hearing the yearning in his voice, I bite my lip.

  “I didn’t want to tell you right now,” I admit.

  “But you do?” he asks.

  I press my lips to his, breathing, “Yes.”

  He grabs me in a fierce hold. His mouth streaks over my face reverently, every touch worshipful, then I hear his words as he repeats them like a mantra.

  “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

  My heart is full to the point of bursting, happiness nudging aside the sorrow that had settled there, replacing it. I reach for Oliver’s clothes, determined to feel skin, to lose myself in this man. Oliver is of the same mind.

  But this time when he makes love to me, there is a tenderness in him. With each touch, he carefully and painstakingly adores me, shows me how much he loves me. When I come, it’s with breathy sighs and moans, wrapped around him so tightly that we seem like one person.

  Life isn’t perfect. But, through all this mess, finding somebody who understands me so deeply is a gift I plan to cherish.

  17

  Epilogue

  Oliver

  Lana frowns at Caleb. “That’s fine and all, but she hardly has the qualifications the rest of the applicants have.”

  Caleb looks annoyed. “Just hire her, Lana.”

  As I watch the exchange between the woman I love and her boss and friend, I know she’s not going to come out on top.

  Lucas sits nearby, going through some contracts.

  We’ve all pulled a late night since it’s going to be my last day at the office. It’s been six months since I started, and I’m not sad to leave. Lana still plans to continue her work since I’m staying on as a temporary consultant while working on my own business, which Caleb insists on investing in.

  He’s a sharp businessman with the nose of a bloodhound.

  I close the folder before me, then stand. “All right. We have to leave. Are you done, Lana?”

  Lana gives Caleb a dirty look, tucking the file of the girl Caleb wants as PA under her arm. “Let’s leave.”

  Caleb isn’t bothered by her attitude. He just waves us off.

  It’s oddly cool for a September night, so we decide to forgo a taxi and walk.

  Lana looks happier.

  Her father’s surgery was a success, and her brothers are working toward rebuilding their bonds with her. It amuses me how they watch me warily and with open dislike, as if they think I’m not good enough for their baby sister.

  It makes me wonder if Lana had ever said yes to any of the men they tossed her way, would they have even let her go through with it?

  “So,” I say, tucking her under my arm. “What do you think about traveling to London with me for a week?”

  “London?” Lana looks startled. “Why?”

  I shrug. “Just thought I could show you my family estate. Maybe take you out on a yacht where you can sunbathe in a tiny bikini and let me rub lotion over you.”

  Lana grins. “Didn’t you rub lotion all over me last night, you pervert?”

  I release an ever-suffering sigh. “My patience ran short last night. There was still so much we could have done.”

  Lana’s laughter is one of the best sounds in the world. It wraps me up in its delight and happiness. I want to bask in it.

  Insincerely, she pats my chest. “There, there.”

  I glare down at her laughing face.

  These past few months have brought about a transformation to this woman. She’s more open, relaxed, the hostility she wore as a shield has dropped down. I eye the bracelet around her wrist, which I had gifted her, feeling pride at the idea she wears it every day.

  She doesn’t like me buying her jewelry, but this bracelet is something that barely leaves her body.

  As she leans into me, I feel a swell of happiness. Reaching the edge of the bridge that looks over the shimmering water body, I spot a bench and suggest, “It’s a lovely night. Why don’t we sit here for a while?”

  “It’s cold,” she complains as I maneuver her to the bench, then drag her into my arms. It’s moments like these that fill me with contentment.

  We sit in silence. I feel the small box pressed against my leg, hidden in my pant pocket.

  “So, London?” I ask.

  “I could take a week off work.” Lana appears thoughtful as she stares at the reflection of the moon in the water.

  “Before we go, however, there is something else I was thinking of doing,” I say.

  Lana must nots something in my tone because she turns to me. “If this is another set of diamond earrings, so help me God—”

  I laugh loudly. “It’s not earrings. You might even like this particular bit of jewelry.”

  “Damn it, Oliver.” Lana sighs. “Why do you have to be so… Wait! What’s that?”

  Her eyes grow wider and more luminous when she glimpses the box in my hand.

  “That’s—that’s a—” She glances at me as if I’m suddenly going to tell her this is a joke.

  I have no intention of doing so.

  “It’s my grandmother’s ring,” I say softly as I open the box. “It’s been passed down in my family for generations. From my grandfather to my grandmother. My father proposed to my mother with this. And now, I want you to wear it.”

  Lana’s mouth trembles before she firms it, giving me a beseeching look.

  “Are you proposing?”

  I tilt my head with a faint smile. “I should think so.”

  “You’re not down on one knee,” she says faintly, clearly for lack of anything better to say.

  “Do you want me to get on my knees?”

  She just reaches forward to cup my fa
ce in her delicate hands, then crushes her mouth to mine. “No. No, I don’t,” she breathes.

  When we pull apart, I hopefully ask, “So, that’s a yes?”

  Lana grins happily. “Ask me properly… and I’ll answer you properly.”

  I lean forward. “Will you marry me, Lana Hill?”

  Lana’s face bursts into a beautiful smile. “I guess I have to now.”

  And this time, I kiss her as I slide the ring on her finger, a ring that claims her as mine.

  THE END

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