Laughing, I hitch myself up in the seat, seeing my house come into view. “You sound awful proprietary, Mr. Knight.”
“I take care of my possessions,” he replies smoothly, both a compliment and a putdown at the same time. He tries to lessen the sting by adding, “I treasure them.”
“Like your Chihuly?” I ask with a great deal of snark as he brings his car to a stop at the curb, putting it in park. “You got over that pretty fast.”
Something flashes across his face, a few emotions that are easy to read. Anger. Denial. Something else I can’t quite put my finger on. His words are not surprising. “I would get over you just as fast.”
I don’t expect the sharp stab of pain that hits me in the chest, but I’ve heard far worse from Nelson. Next time, I’ll be ready for his careless words and they’ll do nothing more than bounce off me, but just so he knows my backbone is strong, I tell him, “Good. We’re on the same page because I’d get over you easily, too. The money I’d surely miss, though.”
Asher’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing. “Then we’re agreed. This is nothing more than sex. Something that could be gotten anywhere.”
“Exactly,” I say, reaching for the handle to open the door. I swing my legs out, pull myself into a standing position, and slam the door shut.
I turn to step onto the curb, but yelp with surprise when I see Asher standing there. His expression is bland, no trace of anger. Instead, he takes me by the hand and leads me up the little sidewalk. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
There’s no controlling the forces of gravity, and my jaw drops open. I try to pull my hand away. “There’s no need.”
Asher’s grip tightens, but he doesn’t try to argue with me. Why should he when he’s stronger and I couldn’t pull my hand away now if I wanted to?
When we reach the top of the porch, Asher pulls open the screen door while I fish for my keys in my little black clutch purse. I give him my back while I unlock the door, but I can feel almost every inch of him right behind me. I can guarantee you the man isn’t angling for a goodnight kiss because this isn’t really a date, and besides… I sucked his cock earlier tonight. What more does he need?
When I push the door open, getting ready to offer a “goodnight” over my shoulder, I’m shocked to feel him walking in behind me.
I spin on him. “What are you doing?”
Asher gives me a wicked smile and shuts my door, casually turning the deadbolt. “Staying the night.”
“I didn’t invite you,” I reply, and then taunt a little. “You said I wore you out at the club tonight.”
“You did.” He smiles slyly before stalking through my living room. I follow him down my hallway until he looks into the room he decides is mine—which is because the other has just a twin bed for Hope—and walks in there. He turns to face me. “But I’ll be recharged come morning, and I’m bound and determined to have you on a weekend.”
My eyes widen as understanding dawns. “You want to sleep here tonight, just because I told you I get weekends off, and you want to prove you’re really in charge by fucking me on a Saturday morning?”
“I’ll be satisfied with a blow job.” When he grins at me, I strangely don’t want to slap it off his face.
Oddly, I want him to stay the night. I wouldn’t mind starting my morning off with a little bit of Asher.
“I get up early,” I warn. “I like to be out of here by seven to go pick up Hope.”
Asher pulls his phone out, then starts tapping on the screen. Raising his head, he says, “I just set the alarm for six.”
Jesus, I’m going to be tired tomorrow. It’s just after one now, and I’m not even sure I can fall asleep with Asher in bed beside me.
But I can’t say no to him, either. “Fine,” I say blandly as I move past him to my dresser. I pull out a pair of pajamas—a cute short and t-shirt set—and slide the drawer shut. “But if you’re a snorer, you have to move out to the couch.”
Laughing, Asher lunges toward me. He snatches the pajamas out of my hands, tossing them to the floor. “Get naked. I want to feel your skin against mine tonight. Plus, it’ll be easy access in the morning.”
There’s a womanly part of me that responds to the intimacy of those words, as noted by a strange thudding in my chest. I hold onto it as I watch Asher start to get undressed, and then I follow along.
After I turn out the lights, we slip into bed. We face each other, lying on our sides. In a million years, I would never expect him to pull me into his arms to sleep, and he doesn’t. He just smiles at me in the moonlight before murmuring, “Goodnight, Hannah.”
“Goodnight,” I reply and close my eyes.
Despite my misgivings, I fall right asleep.
CHAPTER 15
Asher
As I drive to my father’s house the next Saturday night, I wonder what Hannah is doing. This morning was the second week in a row that I woke up in her bed.
I did the same thing I did last week and fucked her. Rolled her onto her stomach, spread her legs, and took her from behind. Christ, I came so hard I almost passed out. Just as good as every time before… if not better.
But when I left this morning, there was one dramatic difference.
I’d felt compelled to kiss her goodbye, and I did so without any thought. She’d looked surprised.
I felt surprised.
All day, I brooded about why I would so thoughtlessly do something that showed fondness for Hannah, and then I wondered about why I cared enough to brood about it.
So I hit the gym and lifted. Afterward, I ran five miles, thinking about Hannah the whole time. She’d said she didn’t have any set plans for the day. With a goofy smile of excitement on her face, she told me she liked to do whatever Hope wanted to before she pushed me out of bed to leave. At mile four, I found myself wondering if Hannah would think of me today. By the time I finished, I’d concluded I was turning into a girl.
It was my father’s phone call, insisting both his children have dinner at his house, that finally drove the consuming thoughts of Hannah far from my mind.
Sure, my dad and I occasionally meet in town for dinner and drinks, but I can’t remember the last time I’d been to his house for such an occasion. Certainly not since my mother died three years ago. She’d suffered a heart attack at age sixty that had killed her quickly.
It was horrible losing her. The pain I felt was so intense, and I’d realized it was the first time I’d felt much of anything since Michelle died. It took losing my mother to realize how much I’d inadvertently disconnected from life, from my family.
I can’t say enough good things about the way Christina and our mom supported me after Michelle’s death. Even though I know it killed them, they did so at arm’s length, somehow understanding I needed supportive space more than anything else. I got encouraging and loving phone calls and texts. We’d meet for lunch sometimes, and the talk would always be light and inconsequential.
Both understood my need not to discuss Michelle and the million potential reasons she decided to kill herself.
I think they both knew I had conversations with myself daily trying to figure it out. So they watched me carefully, ready to run in should I ever decide to fall apart.
I never did.
My father, of course, was a nonentity during the times I lost the two most important women in my life, but his support was never expected. He wasn’t that type of person.
The other thing my mom’s passing did was to remind me how precious my twin was. I had disconnected from her as well when Michelle died, and losing my mom shook me up.
While I knew I couldn’t open myself up to romantic love again, Christina’s heart was half my own. I’d needed to accept that in my life.
These past few years, we’ve grown closer than ever.
Which is why I’m on edge tonight. My dad will find some way to demean Christina, and I’m going to be poised to swoop in and defend her.
I arrive at Dad’s gated community.
The guard doesn’t recognize me because I don’t come over this way much anymore. He wasn’t here when my mom was alive, but that means he could have worked here anywhere from three years to three days, and I wouldn’t know. After I give my name, he checks his list, after which he opens the gate for me.
When I pull into Dad’s large circular driveway, I see Christina has already arrived. She’s waiting outside of her little Honda that probably has a hundred thousand miles on it. I’d love to buy her a new car, but she’d never accept it.
Well, that’s not exactly true. She’d accept it, thank me, and then sell it to give the money to some pet project of hers.
I’m grinning at the thought of my do-gooder sister as I exit my vehicle.
Nodding toward the house, I tease, “Afraid to go in without me?”
She laughs and nods, reaching out to me for a hug. “Is it bad I feel like I’m walking into an ogre’s house?”
Laughing in return, I squeeze her hard. It’s funny but sad at the same time, especially since we grew up in this house. It’s also telling that we never really refer to this as “our” house anymore. Rather, we both say it’s our dad’s. It became so when Mom died, as she was the only piece of glue that made us a family unit.
“What do you think he wants?” she asks me as we pull apart.
“No clue,” I reply, taking her hand and marching up the wide stone steps to the double front door.
Our dad’s butler answers, regally inviting us in before announcing, “Mr. Knight is in the study, and he wishes you to join him there for drinks.”
Christina snickers, and I shoot her a chastising look. The butler is just doing as Dad expects him to do—to always give that air of superiority to all aspects of his life.
We continue to the study, its double doors already open to us.
Dad is standing near an empty fireplace hearth. As far as I know, it has never seen a fire, seeing as we live in the hot desert. Beside Dad is an incredibly gorgeous woman.
She seems to be the typical type of woman my dad has dated since our mother died. Much younger than him, probably in her late thirties or early forties, she’s a big-busted blond. While I can’t tell by looking at her, I’m guessing she’s not very smart. He doesn’t like women who know more than he does.
Our father turns to greet us, a big, warm smile on his face. He leaves the woman, rounds a couch that separates the room, and sticks a hand out to me. “Asher… so glad you could make it on short notice.”
After I shake it, I watch in astonishment as he turns to Christina and gives her a hug.
A hug.
I can’t ever remember seeing him do that. Christina’s face is utterly shocked as she widens her eyes at me and awkwardly pats our father’s back.
Pulling away, he smiles at Christina briefly before returning to the woman. Sliding next to her, he puts an arm around her waist. She smiles at us nervously.
“Asher… Christina… I want to introduce you to my fiancée, Mandy.”
“Fiancée?” I ask, not able to hide the censure in my voice. And not because she’s a young Barbie doll, but mainly because he was dating someone else just a few weeks ago. “Tell me you’re kidding.”
Mandy’s smile crumbles, and my dad’s expression turns cold. “That’s rude, Asher.”
“My apologies, but how can you marry someone you’ve probably known for five minutes?”
“That is none of your business,” he retorts icily.
With significant effort, I tear my eyes from my dad to Mandy. I give her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Mandy, but I’d really like to talk to my father alone if you don’t mind.”
“She doesn’t have to go anywhere,” my father snaps, pulling her in closer to him.
“It’s okay, Carl,” Mandy says. She gives him a slight pat on his chest. “You should talk to your children alone. I’ll just go into the kitchen and check on dinner.”
Not saying anything, my dad accepts her chaste kiss on his cheek. It’s deadly quiet as we all watch her leave, pulling the study doors closed behind her.
The moment the doors shut, my dad turns to me and points a finger. It shakes slightly, which is a weakness I’m sure he’d rather I not see. “You will not ruin this for me. I’ve waited a long time to find love again—”
“You’ve found love with several different women since Mom died,” I say dryly. I also happen to know he found love with other women when Mom was alive, but I don’t mention that.
“Mandy’s different,” he snarls.
Christina moves to the couch to take a seat. She’s not going to offer an opinion one way or the other, as I’m sure she doesn’t care.
Rubbing my hand across my face, I sigh. I really don’t care either, but I want to make sure he’s protected just in case he’s only thinking with his dick right now. “Fine. She’s different. It’s true love. But at least get a prenuptial signed.”
My dad narrows his eyes at me. “Do you think I’m stupid? Of course I’ll get one signed. I’ve already discussed it with her.”
“And you’ll ensure that Knight Investment Group is protected?”
His voice is pure ice, his glare menacing. “I taught you everything about our business. I built that company. Do you think I’d endanger it over a woman?”
No. I don’t believe he would. He might think he’s in love with Mandy—hell, maybe he is—but he loves power and money more than anything. He’s always been that way.
I’m not given a chance to answer. My dad pivots to face Christina, who sits on the edge of the couch cushion, her hands clasped loosely on her lap. “And do you have anything to say about this?”
She gives him a bland smile. “I’m happy for you. I wish you a beautiful marriage together.”
This takes my dad aback a bit. He’s not used to having much interaction with Christina at all, and I think he expects her to be judgmental because they’re not close.
He nods, coughing slightly before saying, “Well… okay then. It’s settled. I’m marrying Mandy, and I’d appreciate it if you two were nice to her. I’m going to get her. If you’d like to stay for dinner, we’ll meet you in the dining room.”
Christina and I watch him walk out of his study, closing the doors behind him.
When we’re alone, we both release pent-up breaths. She laughs awkwardly while I roll my eyes.
“Is it me, or has he just gotten really weird?” Christina asks as she stands up.
“I have to admit I never saw something like this coming,” I muse aloud as we head to the doors together.
“Are we staying for dinner?” she inquires with a smirk.
“Sure,” I say with a shrug. I don’t have anything else to do since Hannah is with Hope. There is no desire in me to go to the club without her. “It could be entertaining.”
“I wish Jack would have come to see this,” she says dreamily as I open the door.
Chuckling, I gesture her ahead of me toward the dining room. Who am I to judge what my dad is doing as long as he’s legally protected in case she’s just after his money?
Which I’m fairly sure she is, because my dad isn’t the most engaging person.
Maybe he’s just lonely and wants companionship. Of course, he can’t just choose a nice elderly widow or something. He has to have a woman who looks like a porn star, but to each his own, I guess.
“This could be you one day,” Christina murmurs.
“What?” I ask. Startled, I come to a stop in the hallway.
Her look is pointed, and there’s no more amusement or joking about the situation our father just shared with us. Her voice is filled with concern. “You’ve closed yourself off to the possibility of love with another woman. I know you don’t like to talk about it, but this will be you one day, Asher. You’ll wake up, find yourself old and lonely, and you’ll grab on to whatever affection gets thrown your way.”
I want to scoff and blow her off. Want to be angry and tell her to mind her own business. I want to disregard everyt
hing she’s said, but deep down, I know she’s right. It’s something I’ve probably known since I found Michelle dead in our bed. I realized then I couldn’t ever open myself up to such a connection to another woman.
My mind automatically drifts to Hannah, specifically last night. We fell asleep in the bed with space between us, just as we had the week before. But when I woke up this morning, I found I had somehow pulled her into me during the night. She was on my side of the bed, completely tangled up with me. Surprisingly, my first thought had been that I liked it.
Michelle and I were never big cuddlers, in or out of the bed. I wonder why that was. Was it me? Her? The way we were raised? Were we just too damn superficial? Something about that last question resonates with me.
Michelle was a good match on paper. We ran in the same wealthy circles. Both loved to discuss politics and world affairs. She made me laugh, and I did the same for her. The sex was good and plentiful. I was satisfied.
But I can’t deny that it wasn’t passion charged. Not the way it is with Hannah. Whether at the club, my apartment, or her house, I lust after her equally. Doesn’t matter if I’m riding her from behind while people watch us at The Wicked Horse or if I’m slowly giving her a morning fuck after we wake up in her bed. It’s all fucking better than anything that ever came before it.
Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to stay at her house.
Or have sex in my apartment.
Maybe I just need to keep my contact with her limited to The Wicked Horse, so the boundaries stay respected. I can’t let myself be drawn into something that could cause me pain. Hannah, I’m fairly sure, could cause a world of hurt on me if I ever admitted to a very small truth.
I like what she makes me feel just a little too much.
CHAPTER 16
Hannah
“Want to have a drink first?” Asher inquires as we step out of the elevator into The Wicked Horse.
“Sure,” I tell him, and he leads me over to the bar. After he has accepted a bourbon for himself and glass of wine for me, we head to a tall table in a quiet corner. The Social Room serves alcohol, but it doesn’t supply much seating as the goal is to encourage people to mingle and get to know one another.
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