by J. D. Chase
Thrusting the DNA letter back into Xander’s hands, Isla’s father gave him the address of where she was staying. ‘She won’t know you’re coming – if I warn her, she’ll be pissed with me for even speaking to you. You have a mammoth task as it is. She’ll probably be out. She’s always loved walking along the beach. I suggest you start there. But please, Xander, promise me this: you’ll both stop by and say goodbye before you whisk her back to London.’
Xander grinned, his face lighting up as the tension receded. He nodded and dashed back to his car, shouting that he’d do his utmost to fulfil that promise.
Red’s father thinks I can do it. I have a chance. No, thanks to him I have a fighting chance
He programmed the satnav and drove, elated that just a few miles separated him and his Red. Just a few miles . . . and a mountain of misunderstandings to overcome.
He parked his car a short walk inland from the address Isla’s father had given him. If her father thought that the element of surprise would be useful then there would be no point in letting her see the Holden. He walked the long way to the beach, avoiding her cottage for the same reason. Despite the sunshine, there was a distinct chill in the air. Well, he reasoned, he was in Scotland. That also explained the number of golf courses that he’d passed and this picturesque town was not exactly lacking in those.
He found himself at a small harbour. There was a beach on the left and another to the right. And they were packed with holidaymakers and locals, enjoying the sunshine and braving the freezing cold Firth of Forth.
Great. School holidays. How the hell am I supposed to find her amongst the sea of sun worshippers? I’ll grab a coffee from the seabird place and sit and wait. It might prevent hypothermia from taking my fingers. How the fuck can those kids be splashing around in that paddling pool, never mind the North fucking Sea? They’re all mental. It’s freezing up here.
Making his way towards the café, he stopped mid-stride, almost losing his balance. There she was, walking towards him along the west beach. He’d know that red halo anywhere. The sun was shining on her hair, which was being blown around by the wind giving the impression of a flaming beacon.
His heart hammered in his chest. He wanted to run to her but he couldn’t bear the thought of her running from him. Besides, his legs were suddenly too heavy to move. Closer and closer she came. Her head was down, whether that was to protect her face from the prevailing wind or whether she was simply lost in thought, he didn’t know. His breath caught in his lungs when she turned, unseeingly into the harbour. She was merely feet away from him, walking on a course that would see her almost crash into him. And still his feet wouldn’t move.
She was almost upon him when a child ran past and brushed against her legs. It jolted her thoughts and forced her to look up. Xander scanned her tear-lined face and his heart contracted painfully. Her eyes swept past him, making his heart skip a beat. He thought she must be so lost in her thoughts that she was blind to the faces around her. But then her eyes darted back. He heard her gasp before her already pale complexion blanched, making her red-ringed eyes stand out even more.
Her expression hardened and, if looks could kill, he’d be flatlining, right there on the harbour. Instinct told him to tread carefully. As much as she was strong, she was fragile. As much as she was stubborn, she was fearful. One wrong move and he would turn this into mission impossible.
He fished in the inside pocket of his jacket and took out the DNA result and explanatory letter. He held it out, saying nothing.
He could see her fighting against herself so, praying he was doing the right thing, he pushed the letter into her hand, folding her fingers around the scrunched-up paper.
He tried to speak, but when he opened his mouth, no sound came out. Feeling utterly useless and totally petrified, he shrugged helplessly. His eyes urgently tried to communicate his wishes to hers but she stared back blankly, either unwilling or unable to help him. Fear gripped at his heart. If he couldn’t speak, how was he going to explain? But the stakes were too high . . . one wrong word and he could blow it.
So there he stood; the arrogant, self-assured alpha who was intimidated by nothing and no-one . . . Mr Shameless ‘Dirty Mouth’ Inappropriateness himself, reduced to a mute, uncertain wreck.
He saw her head shake – just the slightest movement – before her hand dropped to her side and the paper fell from her fingertips, on to the floor. She squeezed her eyes closed and shook her head sadly before sidestepping him and walking away.
I blew it! I’ve done my best to tread softly and not antagonise her and still I’ve blown it. Well, so much for the softly, softly approach . . . time to do what comes naturally. What the fuck do I have to lose?
Snatching up the crumpled piece of paper before it blew away, he stormed after her. Taking her by the shoulders, he spun her around, catching her in his arms lest she fall, then sealed his lips over her astonished mouth before she could protest. As soon as she recovered her wits, she tried to push him away but one arm was clamped around her holding her firmly in place. She tried to pull her head back but he simply lowered his head, keeping his lips on hers as his other hand gripped the nape of her neck.
‘I’m not—’ he began but she shook her head from side to side, her squeal drowning out his words. That just made him growl in frustration and grasp the back of her head.
‘You stubborn creature. I’m going to kiss you until you either succumb to it, or you agree to listen to what I have to—’
‘Oh no, I’ll—’ she interrupted, attempting to knee him in the bollocks.
But he was holding her too close to him so she missed. He grabbed the back of her head firmly and crashed his lips back on to hers, holding her face against his. He felt a sharp pain and then tasted blood when she bit his lip. He took advantage of her open mouth, sliding his tongue inside, and searching for hers. She bit that too but he found himself chuckling into her mouth. ‘Careful, Red. Don’t you know that just turns me on?’
She screamed in frustration into his mouth, stamping on his foot for good measure. But still he didn’t release her. She began to thrash around and managed to pull her head out of his hold but he was too quick for her. He banded both of his arms around her, trapping her arms to her sides and effectively pinning her against him.
‘I’m just going to hate you even more for this,’ she spat. ‘If that’s possible. You have five seconds to release me before I scream rape. Four . . .’
‘I’m not the father. I have proof that Janine switched the DNA samples. I’m not the father, Red. And I can show that I left her because I can prove that I’m the petitioner for the divorce. Either Janine told Jamie a pack of lies, or they’re both as bad as each other. I don’t know who did what yet. I just know that my DNA does not match the one used in last week’s paternity test. I resubmitted a sample last night. I cannot be the baby’s father, Red. If I could trust you not to run, I’d let you go so that you can see for yourself. Let’s turn the clock back to last Friday, Red. Nothing’s changed. I’ve done nothing wrong.’
‘It doesn’t matter. Do you know what hurt most? You pushed me away when you found you were the father. You detached yourself and you vanished. I had no fucking idea where you were . . . whether you were safe . . . whether you’d gone back to her . . . you just dropped the fucking bombshell and walked away. So much for never leaving my side, never letting me down . . . and all the other shit that you spouted the last time you tried to get me to take you back. How long until the next time, Xander? How can I know you’ll be there when I need you?’
‘I give you my word. Come on, Red. I thought I was the father. Bang went my chance of getting a quickie divorce. I was a married man with a newborn baby . . . You’d taken me back because I’d told you that I was categorically not the father and that I was divorcing her as quickly as I was able. What grounds did I have for divorce if I was the father? I couldn’t prove that she’d committed adultery. She’d contest the petition that I’d already filed. Plus
, you know . . . I’d just been told that I’d fathered a child with a woman I couldn’t stand. My head was fucked. Forgive me for not acting rationally but my world had splintered into a million pieces. And no, I didn’t stop to think that the test result was faked . . . not even I could have predicted that Janine would stoop so low.
‘All I could think of was that some poor kid had a father who could never bond with him, never love him because his father blamed him for losing the best thing that ever happened to him. Can you imagine growing up knowing that your father was miserable because you’d been born? That the one person your father had ever loved with all his heart had left him because of you? All I could think of was his guilt – and mine. His resentment – and mine. I couldn’t stand it. And I couldn’t face up to a showdown with you. I was still sore from the events of the week before. I just needed to get out of there. I had no idea where I was going . . . I just needed to escape.’
Isla shuddered as the memory of her own desperate dash from the hotel sprang to mind. She understood completely – and she’d only had to face up to sleeping with Dean. Xander’s situation was far more severe. ‘So where did you go? Why didn’t you at least speak to me, or let me know you were safe?’
‘Safe? I’d plunged into a world of despair . . . I was probably suffering from temporary insanity. I needed to blot it out. I’m not proud of myself for this, but I did the only thing that would blot it out . . . I went on a bender. On Saturday morning, I woke up on some filthy fire escape in the middle of Shepherd’s Bush with the hangover from hell. I got a cab back to my suite and then proceeded to drink that hotel dry.
‘I woke up yesterday morning and, when I found myself in such a state that I’d pissed myself, I took a long look at myself and realized that blotting it out didn’t make it go away . . . and that I needed you. I cleaned myself up and set off to persuade you to stick with me. I thought maybe I could be a decent father if you were by my side. But I was too late. Your neighbour told me you’d gone to your parents’ so I set off to come and get you. Your resignation letter didn’t make any sense and, during the long drive up here, I began to realise that the DNA test result might not actually be the true result. I couldn’t understand why Janine had made your ex give a sample. Or why she’d told him that the result showed that he was the father. It just didn’t add up.’
‘No, you misunderstood. She told Jamie he was the father before the test was taken. She asked him for a DNA sample to prove it and then called him to deliver the news that it was yours.’
‘Ah, right. But you said that she told him that on Thursday? I paid for the test to be done. Only I’ve had the results – I haven’t even told Janine the result yet and the clinic won’t disclose it to her. I checked. And I promise you, I only got the result late afternoon on Friday. So Janine didn’t have it when she told Jamie that the baby was mine. You saying that she’d told him on Thursday was what made me suspect foul play. I decided to give a new DNA sample and check that it matched the father’s sample that Janine sent off. Knowing that she had a sample from Jamie made that result suspect – at least in my mind.
‘So, I paid a ridiculous amount of money to a lab in Edinburgh last night and to the lab in London so that they’d agree to share the DNA analyses. By nine o’clock this morning, it was confirmed that my DNA did not match the father’s sample so there was no way that I was the father. I think it’s safe to say that Jamie is, since he also provided a sample. That devious cow knew all along so she sent off his sample in my name.’
Isla nodded.
‘Look, here’s proof,’ he said, releasing her with one hand so he could pass her the letter.
‘It’s okay,’ she insisted. ‘I believe you. My parents are the only people who know I’m here . . . if you convinced them, and I know they’re no walkover, then I know what you say is true.’
‘Thank fuck for that. Why do I feel like there’s a “but” coming?’
‘Why did you buy the hotel?’
‘Huh? What do you mean? I told you, I just stumbled upon it when I was looking for an avenue to divert cash away from Janine’s claws. And it was cheap for Kensington. Temptingly cheap. So, instead of investing in someone else’s venture on the quiet, I took the plunge after agreeing with Gerald that he’d keep it in his name until my divorce was through. Look, I’m not proud of that but, after what she’d done? At the time, I felt it was justified. It turns out it was a life-changer, regardless of whether Janine manages to prove I own it or not. Because I met you. Let them take it away. Let them take it all away. As long as I have you, I don’t give a fuck what else I do or don’t have. I don’t need anything else. I just need you and fuck, right now that’s the scariest thing I’ve ever faced.’
‘Scary? Why?’
‘I’m scared that you’ll still walk away from me. That because of Janine’s malignant actions, we’re tainted somehow. But what I’m most afraid of is that even if you stay, you don’t need me, or not enough, not like I need you. You’re strong, you’re as feisty and independent as fuck and I love you for that but you’ve consumed me. I’m so intoxicatingly bewitched by you. You occupy my every waking moment, regardless of what I’m doing. And I’m not just thinking of you, lying there beneath me . . . or your lips around my cock . . . or of leaving my marks on your soft, pale skin . . . oh, make no mistake – I think about that a lot. But I’m also thinking of us. Together. Until we’re old and wrinkly and I can’t find my cock any more. I’m thinking of loving you, protecting you . . . making you smile, watching you smile . . . pushing your buttons just so you retaliate, because I love it when you put me in my place. I don’t care about my bank balance, my house, my hotels, my car . . . I don’t care about anything or anyone except you. I just want to make you happy. I know that together, we can be happy. Wherever we are, whatever we have; we can be happy. But you need to need it too.’
‘I do,’ she whispered. ‘I thought you’d gone back to her to play happy families and that if you came crawling back, it was only because she’d changed her mind again. It broke my heart. I thought Jamie had broken my heart . . . but he can’t have done because what I felt then was nothing compared to the excruciating pain and sense of loss that I felt when you walked out and didn’t come back. Then when Jamie told me that Janine had said you’d only bought the hotel because of me, to prove to her that you knew about Jamie—’
‘What?’ he roared, drawing concerned glances from all around. ‘I’ll fucking kill her. I’ll strangle the very life out of her with my bare hands.’
‘Shhh!’ admonished Isla, pulling him closer to her. ‘You can stand in line, Mister.’
‘Miss Isla Hamilton?’
Eyebrows raised, she replied, ‘Yes, Mister Rho— I mean . . .’
‘It’s okay, it’s okay. Yes, that’s how Janine used to refer to me. But it wasn’t in the sassy way that you do it . . . she said that Xander was a stupid name, so she refused to use it most of the time. She would say that my mother probably couldn’t spell Alexander . . . or that she was too high or pissed to say my name right when she registered my birth.’
‘Ouch! What a bitch. So you don’t mind me calling you Mister Rhodes?’
He smiled. ‘Not one little bit. Especially if you’re being feisty . . . it gives me a reason to put you over my knee and spank that beautiful, bountiful arse of yours . . . and we know how it calls to me, begging for more attention once it’s glowing nice and pink.’
Isla smirked. ‘What were you going to say anyway, Mister Rhodes? Was it important, Mister Rhodes?’
He gave a low growl. ‘Careful, Red. I thought I’d lost you. Again. And I can’t lose you. You’re mine. Perhaps you need to be permanently covered in my marks, so that you remember that. And maybe, just for good measure, you should feel me every time you move, just so there’s no confusion.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Just shut up and fuck me.’
Xander stepped back theatrically and put his hand on his belt buckle. ‘What, here? In front of al
l these people? Oh well, if you’re sure . . . I’m game.’ He began to unfasten his belt as he double pumped his eyebrows.
Isla grasped his wrist and headed towards the house she’d rented for the week, tugging him along behind her. Xander muttered, ‘Chicken. You’ll pay for teasing me and then making me wait. Perhaps I’ll slap those enormous tits at the same time as spanking your arse . . .’
She snorted. ‘Ha. Perhaps I’ll sit on your face and take my pleasure . . . you know, for putting up with all your shit.’
He snorted back and turned her to face him. ‘Yeah right. It’s all about the cock for you. But go on, I’ll lie there as you slide your delicious pussy up and down my face . . . I get to taste you, to make you come and you . . . you’ll be as frustrated as fuck afterwards. You’ll be begging for my thick, solid cock to be buried inside you. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll be content to sit and stroke my cock as I watch you drool before you resort to rubbing that pumped up clit good and hard in an effort to sate your greedy pussy. But it won’t. It will only make it worse. And eventually, once you’ve taken my cock right into the back of your throat to make sure it’s punishingly hard . . . I might oblige. But by then, my balls will be blue so my cock thrusting will be brutal. And it might not be your pussy that I’m slamming into. So, my gorgeous sex kitten, are you sure you want to sit on my face?’
Isla swallowed hard. Eyes wide, she nodded in earnest. ‘Oh yes.’
He laughed. ‘I should have known better. You greedy, filthy bitch. You’ve just made my cock angry. Very angry. Forget brutal . . . you’re not even getting off that lightly now.’
He swooped down and lifted her clean off her feet, throwing her over his shoulder. He jogged down the road, with Isla shrieking with laughter in between giving directions to her house. He burst through the door and barged up the stairs before throwing her on the first bed he found.
‘Get naked. Now. It’s been too long.’