by Erika Wilde
Knowing it would be for the best if she slipped out while Hunter was in the shower to avoid any awkward goodbyes, Elle got out of bed, found her panties, and slid them on. As much as she liked Hunter, she was forced to accept her time with him for what it was . . . a night of breathtaking, unforgettable passion she was certain she’d never again experience on such an intense and, yes, emotional level.
The sound of the shower turning off prompted Elle to hurry into the living room to put on her dress, which was easy enough to slip into, except tightening the corset fastenings at the back was more difficult to do on her own than with someone’s help, but she managed to pull the ties together so the gown somewhat stayed in place. She grabbed her purse from where she’d left it on the couch and withdrew her phone to summon an Uber while frantically searching for her shoes that had fallen off her feet when Hunter had been carrying her to the bedroom.
Her gaze swept the general area . . . where in the heck were they? Eventually, she discovered one on the floor near the hallway and picked it up, but the second one was nowhere to be found, and as much as she loved the crystal-encrusted shoes, she knew she’d never have a reason to wear them again, and they had been on the clearance rack. Regardless, she had no time to search further if she was going to leave before he had the opportunity to stop her.
She rushed to the elevator before Hunter came out of the bathroom, realized she was no longer in his bed, and came looking for her. Once inside the plush cubicle, she pressed the button for the ground floor just as she caught sight of herself in the mirror-paneled walls and cringed at her disheveled reflection.
She looked like a hot mess, but it was fitting considering that was the general state of her life these days.
Chapter 7
The moment that Hunter stepped out of the bathroom after taking his shower and saw his empty bed, he tried not to jump to the obvious conclusion . . . that Elle was gone. But considering how quiet his place was, he had a sinking feeling that the woman who’d fucking rocked his world last night had taken the opportunity to ghost him while she’d had the chance . . . without him finding out her last name or getting a phone number or a way to contact her so he could see her again.
Yeah, he’d been prepared to break all his rules with her, and while he’d told himself in the shower that there was no reason they couldn’t keep things noncommittal and enjoy their insane attraction and chemistry for as long as it lasted, he instinctively knew that what the two of them had shared was anything but casual. Elle wasn’t the type of woman to give her body, her trust, and her submission over to a man unless there was a deeper connection. And there was no denying he’d felt it, too.
Somehow, someway, she’d gotten under his skin and made him want more of her. Except Hunter was pretty sure that she’d already left the building. With a knot of apprehension settling in his stomach, he tucked his towel around his waist and ventured into the front rooms . . . just in case he was wrong.
And fuck, he wanted to be wrong in the worst way.
But as soon as he saw that her dress and purse were no longer where they’d been the night before and the living room and his kitchen were empty, the disappointment that washed over him was overwhelming, which was quickly followed by frustration. He jammed his fingers through his damp hair and turned to head back to his bedroom since there wasn’t anything he could do about finding Elle at the moment, but the sound of the elevator arriving on his floor had him quickly pivoting back around.
His normally passive heart raced expectantly as he walked in that direction. “Elle?” he called out, hoping against all hope that she’d changed her mind and had come back.
He reached the entry just as his sister stepped into his apartment wearing a pair of faded jeans and a casual white blouse, one side of her mouth quirked in amusement. “No, not Elle,” she said in a light, teasing tone as she took in his attire with a raised brow, which was just the towel secured around his waist. “Were you expecting company?”
“No,” he said, his tone more annoyed now that he was dealing with Tempest and not the woman he’d been anxious to see. “She just left and I thought . . .” Realizing how much he’d been about to reveal about someone he’d just met, he cut himself off and shook his head. “Never mind.”
“You thought that I was her returning?” Tempest persisted, trying to drag more information from him as she strolled the rest of the way into his apartment.
“It doesn’t matter.” His tone was as irritable as his scowl, telling his sister without words that the conversation was over. “Why are you here at my place so early anyway?”
“I thought we could head up to Maddux’s apartment together to find out what happened last night with Theodore,” she suggested. “That way he only has to tell the story once, instead of two separate times. I guess I should have called or texted you first, but I obviously had no idea you were otherwise busy.”
“I’m not busy,” he snapped, and his sister just smirked.
And how in the hell could he have forgotten about meeting up with Maddux this morning and finally being able to celebrate Theodore Cole’s ruination? Clearly, Elle had preoccupied his thoughts throughout the night, and the morning, to the exclusion of everything else, and that never happened with the women he slept with.
“Give me a few minutes to dress and we’ll head up to his apartment.” He returned to his bedroom, where he put on a pair of worn jeans and a plain T-shirt, along with socks and his most comfortable pair of Nikes, which was more his speed than the formal suit he’d been forced to wear the evening before.
When he returned to the living room less than ten minutes later, his sister was holding one of Elle’s sparkling crystal heels in her hand and was studying the shoe curiously.
Tempest glanced his way, a wry smile on her lips. “It appears your visitor left something behind. A crystal-encrusted shoe, of all things. Did you find your own Cinderella at the ball last night?” she teased.
Hunter frowned. Elle had forgotten her shoe? Or maybe she hadn’t been able to find it and had been in such a rush to leave that she’d abandoned the heel. Reaching his sister, he took the footwear from her.
“Where did you find this?” he asked, running his thumb over the smooth crystals.
“Just underneath that chair.” She pointed to one of the armchairs he’d passed when he’d carried Elle to his bedroom, and he remembered hearing the drop of her heels onto the floor. “The toe of the shoe caught my eye, and unless you have some fetish I don’t know about, which is totally cool by the way,” she said humorously, “then I’m guessing that it belongs to your lady friend?”
“It does.” Why deny the truth?
Tempest crossed her arms over her chest. “Why would she leave it behind?”
“Because she was in a hurry to ditch me while I was in the shower, I’m assuming.” Hunter’s irritation returned tenfold at the thought of Elle’s desertion. Never mind that he’d normally do the same damn thing to any other woman he slept with, but this deep-seated craving he had for Elle told him that he wasn’t done with her just yet.
Tempest gave him a goading smile. “Was the sex that bad that she’d run off the morning after?”
Hunter’s jaw clenched in annoyance, even though he knew his sister was messing with him. “No, it was that fucking good.”
Tempest’s eyes widened in shock. “So, this woman . . . you actually want more than one of your normal one-night stands with her?”
He set the sparkly shoe on the end table to deal with later and shook his head indignantly at his sister. “You know way too much about my personal life.”
She shrugged. “One and done has been your MO since Natalie died,” she pointed out softly. “This is the first time in years that I’ve seen you so affected by a woman.”
Hunter didn’t respond and jammed his hand through his hair. The more difficult truth was that he simply couldn’t wrap his head around never seeing Elle again. Did he want to sink his cock inside her soft, sweet, giv
ing body a few more times? Definitely. But he didn’t just want her physically . . . he was shocked to realize that he wanted to learn about all those other intriguing nuances he’d seen glimpses of the night before. The sadness when she’d talked about the situation with her stepmother and sisters and her own decency despite their selfish decision to exclude her from the ball. And most refreshing was the fact that she had no ulterior motives when it came to him and his wealth, when he was so used to women trying to pursue him as a rich commodity.
For the first time in a long time, he’d just been himself with Elle. There had been no pretenses and no expectations between them beyond pleasure. During the first few hours they’d spent together at the ball, that cynical, jaded part of his personality he’d worn like armor for years had gradually faded away because she’d been so genuine, guileless, and so incredibly easy to be with.
“Considering how she left, I’m thinking she wanted to keep it a one-night stand,” Tempest said, cutting into his thoughts with her assessment of the situation.
Hunter shrugged, undeterred. “Then I’m going to have to track her down and find her and convince her otherwise.”
“Track her down?” Tempest frowned at him. “She didn’t give you any information about herself?”
He shook his head and rubbed at the back of his neck, realizing how little he had to go on. “All I have is her first name. Elle. That’s it.”
And who knew if that was even her real name? He’d have to start his search with Michael, the security guy who’d originally denied Elle access to the ball. Hopefully the other man would remember something that would give Hunter some kind of lead, though considering she hadn’t been on the RSVP list, finding her might prove to be more challenging than he’d anticipated.
“And you have her shoe,” Tempest said, amusement in her voice. “Returning it gives you an excuse to see her again so you don’t look like a total stalker.”
Hunter grunted indignantly. “I’m not going to stalk her.” He was going to charm and persuade her to see him again. Big difference.
“Come on, let’s head up to Maddux’s place,” his sister said, turning around and heading toward the elevator. “I’m dying to know what happened with Theodore last night.”
At the mention of the man who’d so carelessly and purposely destroyed their family, Hunter grew more serious. “I’d like to think that he’s curled up in a ball somewhere like a demented old man now that he’s indebted to Maddux and his entire life has been fucked up.” The thought brought Hunter great joy after waiting fourteen years to exact revenge for their parents’ demise.
They rode the elevator two floors up, and when the lift arrived, they walked into the foyer of Maddux’s penthouse and strolled toward the main part of the apartment, which was open concept, with the living room dominating one long area on the right and the kitchen located on the left.
Hunter spotted Maddux standing beside a beautiful younger woman who was sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter, her hair a bit disheveled and wearing what looked to be one of his brother’s T-shirts, judging by how large it was on her small frame. The girl’s eyes were big and round, like a deer caught in headlights, as she stared at him and Tempest as they drew closer. His brother looked oddly tense. Clearly, he and Tempest should have called first instead of assuming Maddux would be alone.
“You didn’t tell us you had an overnight guest,” Hunter said, his tone neutral. His brother’s demeanor was composed, but he sensed something was off. “Maybe Tempest and I should come back later to hear the details on Theodore?”
Maddux shook his head. “She isn’t the kind of guest you’re insinuating.” He exhaled a deep breath before saying, “This is Arabella Cole.”
Tempest gasped at the unexpected and shocking announcement, and Hunter’s body stiffened as he glared at a very uncomfortable-looking Arabella, who was clearly, by name, Theodore’s daughter. What. The. Fuck? A full range of emotions took hold inside him, the most prominent of which was complete and total anger. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what she was doing in Maddux’s place, looking as though his brother had spent the night fucking her. The plan had been to fuck over Theodore, not his goddamn daughter.
Tempest glanced from Arabella, whose cheeks were flushed with what Hunter assumed was embarrassment, to Maddux, confusion etching her features. “Maddux . . . what’s going on?” she asked, voicing the question that Hunter had been about to ask, but not nearly as eloquently.
“Clearly, we need to talk,” Hunter snapped angrily before his brother could reply.
“Yes, we do.” Maddux’s voice was gruff as he jerked his head toward the opposite side of the apartment. “In my office.”
Maddux turned and headed in that direction. While Tempest walked past Arabella with a disapproving frown, Hunter wasn’t so kind. He glared at her in resentment, because she didn’t belong there, and he couldn’t imagine a scenario where Maddux would have even allowed her into his penthouse. She averted her gaze and shifted awkwardly on the barstool.
As soon as they were in Maddux’s office and the door shut behind the three of them, Hunter didn’t hesitate to confront his brother.
“What the fuck is going on, Maddux?” His voice was as furious as he felt. “We trusted you to stick to the plan and take down that bastard who killed our parents, and instead you decided to bring his daughter up to your penthouse so you could screw her?”
Maddux’s jaw clenched, though to his credit, he remained calm. “I didn’t screw her.”
“What happened?” Tempest asked more reasonably, her arms crossed over her chest. “Obviously, things didn’t go as planned.”
Maddux rubbed his fingers across his forehead. “Everything was proceeding as we’d discussed, until Theodore’s daughter, Arabella, made her presence known at the door, along with the fact that she’d eavesdropped on the conversation inside the room.”
Tempest frowned. “Was she aware of her father’s debt or gambling problem . . . or anything else Theodore is responsible for?”
Maddux shook his head. “No, she was, and is, innocent and oblivious to her father’s lifestyle and criminal activities.”
Hunter dropped into one of the leather wingback chairs in the room, his long legs splayed in front of him, feeling the fury radiating from his core. “Then maybe you should fucking tell her so she’ll hate her father as much as we do.”
“When the time is right, I’ll make sure she knows everything,” Maddux said.
“Okay, so Arabella overheard,” Tempest said, ignoring Hunter’s outburst and getting back to the conversation at hand. “That still doesn’t explain why she’s here and Theodore is a free man.”
“He’s not a free man,” Maddux said, leaning his backside against his desk. “I still own him. His three-million-dollar debt and all his assets, and now, his only child and daughter, which was a deliberate and calculated choice I made.”
“Really?” Hunter asked, his tone edged with disbelief.
“Yes, really.” Maddux sent Hunter an impatient look. “Once Theodore realized he was now indebted to me, he nearly had a heart attack—”
“Too bad the fucker didn’t die,” Hunter interrupted bitterly.
Maddux continued. “With her father’s health at risk, it was Arabella who jumped in and begged me to take her in exchange for backing off of her father. And it was a split-second decision based on the fact that Arabella’s offer nearly pushed Theodore over the edge. So, I agreed, knowing it would eat away at the old man that I had complete control over his daughter, which seemed like a nice bonus at the time.”
Gripping the edge of the desk with his hands, he glanced from Hunter to Tempest, clearly trying his best to smooth things over. “Look, I know this wasn’t the plan, but it’s the way it turned out and I’m going to play the situation with Arabella by ear for now. But make no mistake. I’m not done with Theodore Cole. Not by a long shot. I’ll give him a week or so of thinking the worst about Arabella living here with me, and
even after I decide to give her back, I still have every intention of taking him down and exposing him for the corrupt, immoral bastard he is. I have his debt. I own every single one of his assets, and when his illegal activities come to light, his reputation and his life won’t be worth shit. This doesn’t change anything.”
“No, it just delays it.” Hunter’s caustic tone came through loud and clear.
“Hunter—”
Hunter held up a hand to cut off Maddux as he pushed to his feet, his gaze narrowed. “Look, you do whatever you need to do with Cole’s daughter. Play your little cat-and-mouse game with her. Get her out of your goddamn system if that’s the issue and then get your fucking head on straight and finish what Theodore started.”
Beyond irate at his brother’s choices when they’d had a specific plan, Hunter stormed out of the room. Luckily, Arabella was no longer in the kitchen, which was a good thing, because he probably would have had a few choice words for her. And despite how much Hunter hated her father for killing their parents, Maddux had assured him and Tempest that Arabella had no idea about her father’s criminal past, the massive amounts of people he’d swindled out of money, and the few he’d actually murdered.
Hunter needed to calm down, because for as angry as he was right now, he had to trust that Maddux knew what he was doing . . . and that the outcome would still result in Theodore’s financial, mental, and emotional downfall.
Chapter 8
Despite the unpredicted insanity of the past two weeks with his siblings and the situation with Arabella and Theodore Cole, Hunter had managed to find out who Elle was—more formally known as Elaina Darian—thanks to Michael’s stellar memory of that night and the name on the invitation she’d presented to him.