Hearts on Fire: Romance Multi-Author Box Set Anthology

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Hearts on Fire: Romance Multi-Author Box Set Anthology Page 89

by Violet Vaughn


  Of course she would know it was him but by the time she found out, he’d have left. He’d never have to deal with the shame of facing her again. The thought of it made him hang his head in shame and he felt guilty at the thought of doing this to her. It would crucify her. She would crumble.

  But it meant he could make a clean getaway for he believed she was the type of woman who wouldn’t come after him to get her money back. Money wasn’t the big motivator in her life, whatever she liked to think her reasons for wanting to be a success were. Andrea’s ambitious streak came more from her desire to prove things to herself, her parents mostly, that she could make it on her own.

  No, a woman like Andrea wanted what was lacking most in her life—and that was love. She would never own up to it, but he knew it to be true.

  Once he’d taken her money and run, he’d go to Mexico, or find a way to go back to the US eventually. Nowhere that she would find him.

  Admittedly, he didn’t like this plan as much. He’d grown fond of her, more than fond, he felt something for her. For the first time ever it made him feel bad that he’d used her this way.

  And he had a better plan in place.

  She was falling for him, or had been until the recent turn of events after which he sensed a little distance from her. He’d fucked her well, at each opportunity, the way she liked it. That was all it took. It would take a bit more work, more effort now that he sensed her caution. He was good at seducing. He had to try harder to remember to be there for her emotionally.

  In time, he saw himself proposing to her and getting married eventually. He could take care of things, make a respectable man of himself; marriage to an ambitious woman meant he’d be taken care of for life.

  He was already beginning to prefer this plan better.

  If he could convince her to lend him some money for now; maybe ten or twenty thousand dollars so that he could play the markets the way he knew best. Take no advice from Claydon. That coke-head could barely think straight. But sometimes his tips had paid off. This time he’d been too desperate for the quick cash injection and had let his need guide him, instead of playing it small and steady as he had been doing for most of the time.

  Tonight, he’d offer to take Andrea out. If he returned the suit he’d bought—a pointless exercise since he had never intended to go to the wedding—he’d get a refund; enough to take her out, wine and dine her and screw her all night. Then maybe tomorrow he’d tell her about his problems. Maybe even say he had to leave. When he spoke of taking off, it hurt her and after that it was all about taking advantage of her.

  With a loose idea in his mind, Riley left Andrea’s apartment.

  With the suit returned, he now had enough money for dinner. Riley walked into the warehouse full of his surprise plans for the evening. Until the sight of Leo wiped the smile off his face in one fell swoop.

  The man turned around and stared at him blankly. “Riley. Good to see you again.”

  Yeah, right. Riley could see straight through the lies. He knew Leo felt the same way about him as he did about Leo.

  “Hey,” Riley said, nodding his head and walking up. His insides tightened.

  “She’s gone to the bakery to get a pastry. Seems she’s addicted to those things.”

  “What things?”

  “The Danish pastries. You didn’t know?”

  Riley shook his head and looked around the warehouse, wishing that Leo would return to his office. He was desperate for Andrea to return. “I don’t want to disturb you buddy. Why don’t you carry on with your work?” He suggested, hoping to encourage the guy to leave.

  “She won’t be long.” Leo seemed just as anxious not to want to hang around too much. “I hope you’re feeling better now,” Leo said as he turned to head back into the office.

  “You know how it is.” Riley replied, slowly.

  “How what is?” Leo asked.

  “Andrea said you’re quite the expert on IBS.”

  “Is that a fact?” asked Leo, slowly.

  Riley adjusted the strap of his backpack on his shoulder and nodded. “You seem to know all about it.”

  “My ex-girlfriend suffered from it.” Leo explained.

  Riley nodded. “It’s meant to be brought on by stress, in some cases.”

  “Which makes it even harder for me to understand why you’re stressed? You can’t be stressed if you’re still on your extended vacation, or traveling, or whatever you want to call it.”

  “Traveling isn’t all that it’s cut out to be.”

  “How long were you planning on staying here anyway?” Leo asked him.

  Riley advanced slowly until he was no more than a foot away. “Am I missing something?” he asked. “Because you seem to have a problem with me. Is it because me and Andrea are together?”

  “No. I have a problem when she seems upset—”

  “Upset? When?” She’d been quiet lately but he wouldn’t have considered her as being stressed.

  “When I met her for a coffee on the day she should have been at the wedding.”

  “You met her?”

  “She didn’t tell you?” Riley saw the smug look of satisfaction across Leo’s face. “There was obviously nothing to tell. She went out for grocery shopping. I was recovering in bed. IBS, a bug, a touch of something bad I ate, who knows. The thing that bothers you is that she was at home taking care of me. You can’t get your head around that, can you?”

  Leo said nothing.

  “Does she know?” Riley asked, all too aware of the man’s feelings for Andrea.

  “Does she know what?” Leo’s tone was defensive, thick and coarse.

  “The way you feel about her?”

  “We’re business partners, nothing more. She trusts me.” Leo appeared to dismiss the idea. “I find it quite odd how fast this has all come about.”

  “What’s that?” Riley took another step forward.

  “You met in Bellagio and you followed her here and you’ve stayed here ever since. Didn’t you find what you were looking for in Bellagio?”

  The muscles in the back of Riley’s neck tightened. Had this guy been checking up on him?

  “It was the best thing I did, go to that hotel the same weekend Andrea was there.” Riley told him, then, in a lower voice. “It’s killing you, isn’t it? That she’s in my bed and not yours?”

  He saw the skin around Leo’s eyes tighten. And he didn’t like the way the man stared at him—as though he could see right through him.

  Did he know? It wasn’t possible.

  Unwilling to lie down and accept defeat, Riley asked him. “Do you ever wonder why she comes to work with that big smile on her face?” He wanted to wipe that grin off Leo’s face, and fast. Riley smelled victory and watched the Adam’s apple on Leo’s throat rise and fall. “Some days she can’t walk straight,” he whispered, “and she loves it.”

  Leo grabbed him by the wrist and squeezed it hard. He was deceptively strong, Riley thought. All this time he’d wrongly assumed Leo was a softie, he was a few inches shorter than Riley, and was thin and wiry, compared to Riley’s bigger, thicker body, but the man had a grip of steel that Riley was unable to get out of. Funny how he never came across that way; always lurking around in the background. Time he stayed in the background for good, decided Riley.

  The sound of the bell at the door had them pull apart quickly. Riley turned around to see Andrea’s reaction. She looked surprised, and then her attention drifted to Leo’s face as though she’d dreaded some sort of exchange between the two men.

  “I told him you’d gone to buy your favorite pastry.” Leo explained, cheerfully enough, and then walked back into the office.

  “Mid-afternoon sugar craving,” she explained, walking up to him and returning to the office with a cup of coffee and a brown paper bag.

  “Hey,” said Riley, reaching out for her waist and pulling her towards him. He planted a kiss on her lips. She smiled stiffly.

  “What brings you here?” She aske
d. He didn’t like the guarded tone in her voice but followed her into the office.

  “For you,” she said to Leo, in a voice that was markedly lighter than the one she’d used for him. She handed Leo a cup of coffee.

  “You didn’t have to, but thanks.”

  Riley didn’t like the way these two were getting on—and he felt invisible even though he stood at the door of their small and cramped work space. Their easy banter made him feel like an outsider and he remained in the doorway, not taking a step in.

  Andrea turned to Riley and offered him the brown bag. “I didn’t know you were coming so I didn’t get you anything but this is delicious. Try it.”

  He waved a hand, dismissing the offer. “You have it. Leo says it’s your favorite.”

  She giggled, and stole a look at Leo. “I’ll be piling on the calories within the month.”

  Riley watched Leo’s face, and could tell, from one man to the other, that the man had an opinion on that but he wasn’t about to voice it right now.

  Feeling superfluous, Riley told her. “I returned the suit, and I was on my way back home when I thought I would meet you after work.” Even though Leo pretended to stare at his computer screen, Riley could tell the man was listening to their conversation.

  “Oh,” said Andrea, still holding the pastry in her hand. She looked as though she was waiting for him to leave. “I had plans to work late tonight. I’m in Milan for two days this week.”

  As Riley watched her reaction, he now knew for a fact that her attitude towards him had been decidedly colder. It had been ever since the wedding. And now that he knew she’d met with Leo on that day, it made more sense. He wasn’t going to let her know that he knew; best to keep that news to himself for now but all the same, he wondered what else they might have discussed.

  “I was hoping to take you out tonight. I know it won’t make up for it, but in my own small way to apologize for you missing the wedding.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said quickly. It hadn’t been the type of reaction he’d anticipated.

  “I want to. I can’t take you away on vacation. This is something small I want to do.”

  “I’m going to be away for a few days and I have so much to do.”

  “You’re going to Milan this week? I thought it was weeks away.” She’d been talking about making another trip and something to do about visiting more suppliers.

  “I’m going tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” He could have sworn she hadn’t mentioned it. “You never mentioned it.”

  “Yes, I did,” she said slowly. “You’ve been busy with your own stuff.” True. He had been quite occupied. He’d have to work much harder to win her back.

  “Just you?” he asked, and from the periphery of his vision, he saw that Leo had looked up.

  “Why?” she asked, turning on him like a tiger.

  “I wondered, that’s all.”

  “I’ll be going alone. I need Leo to stay behind and take care of things.”

  He shuffled around in the doorway. This hadn’t gone as he’d intended but with her away in Milan though, he had ideas for another plan. “How about I wait for you in the coffee shop and you come by when you’re finished? We can go home together and I’ll make something to eat.”

  “That sounds like a better plan,” she said. “And thank you—for considering dinner. This hasn’t been a good week.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said softly, then pointed to the hanging shelf on the wall behind Leo’s desk. “That looks loose. You might want to get that fixed.”

  Leo looked behind him and above his head.

  “We should take it down,” said Andrea. “I’ll see you in an hour?” she said, looking at Riley.

  “Come and get me when you’re done.” He walked out.

  29

  “I’d better go,” announced Andrea as she slipped on her jacket. Leo nodded. “Go,” he told her, “and good luck tomorrow.”

  “It’s worth a try, isn’t it?” she said, she seemed to be lingering around.

  “Of course it is, especially if it’s another factory owned by the Massaris. Everything should match perfectly and it will be a great opportunity to cross promote both the cribs and the nursery furniture. Which parent wouldn’t want both?”

  “Shipping will be a pain,” she commented.

  “It doesn’t have to be.” He sat back in his chair and watched as she tidied up her desk, neatly arranging the notebooks and desk tidy the way she always did at the end of the day.

  “Is that some ritual you’ve got?”

  She frowned. “What?”

  He nodded at her desk. She had a way of lining up her diary and her notebook so that they lay flat on the table side by side with the edges at perfect right angles to one another. He was sure that if he measured it with a ruler that they would be equidistant from the edge of the table.

  “I like to be neat and tidy. An organized desk is the sign of an organized mind,” she said, picking up her handbag and cell phone.

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  “Sorry to leave so early but Riley’s waiting for me…”

  “No problem,” replied Leo. “That’s considerate of him.” The words were hard to get out, especially when he didn’t believe in them, but he had promised himself he would try harder not to say anything negative about Riley. Still there was something that was biting at his insides. Something he couldn’t ignore easily.

  Andrea paused at the door. “He says he’s going to cook for me.”

  “I heard,” Leo replied, and once again they locked eyes. He felt sure she was about to say something and when she didn’t he said, “Lucky you.”

  She paused and he wondered why she was taking her sweet time to leave. “I’d better go,” she said finally.

  Leo nodded at her. For a quick moment he wondered if he should have told her that he’d let it slip to Riley that the two of them had met for coffee on the wedding day.

  “Bye,” she said.

  “Good luck tomorrow.”

  Maybe he should have warned her.

  When she finally left he heard the sound of the bell followed by the clack of the door as it closed. He let out a deep breath and brushed his hand over his face, feeling uneasy at the prospect of what he’d done.

  It had been irresponsible of him to let out that they’d met on the day of the wedding; the last thing he’d wanted to do was to make trouble for Andrea. It was no good wishing that Riley wouldn’t say anything to her. Why had Andrea kept that from Riley?

  All he knew was that mention of Bellagio had stirred something up , even as Riley James had done his best to remain calm and unaffected. The tell-tale signs, a narrowing of the eyes, a shifty glance, a tenseness of his jaw—all these things Leo had noticed.

  What secrets did Bellagio hold? There was only one way to find out. He tried to remember when Andrea had gone for her weekend. Was it sometime in June? He knew exactly where to find the answer. Eyeing the neatly arranged diary and notebook on her desk, Leo walked over to it and then thumbed through the diary for the month of June. He found the dates. Andrea was ever so efficient:

  Villa Costanza, 17th June.

  He didn’t hold out much hope for anything since hotel receptionists weren’t likely to give out the names of their guests let alone any other information but it was worth a try. He looked online and found the number of the hotel, then dialed it quickly before he changed his mind.

  “Good evening, Villa Costanza. How may I help you?”

  “Good evening,” said Leo, putting on his best voice. “I hope you can help. I’m calling from the US Consulate General.” Even as he spoke, he considered hanging up, feeling eerie about the way he was checking up on Riley.

  Too late now. He cleared his throat and continued. “There’s been a terrible accident and we need to inform the next of kin. I have a guest who stayed at your hotel sometime in June. I understand the gentleman is traveling through Italy at the moment and I was w
ondering if there is any chance you might have his contact details?”

  Even as he said this, Leo didn’t know what information he hoped to glean from the conversation. It had felt like a foolish ruse from the moment he’d picked up the phone and even though he’d asked for Riley’s contact details, because that seemed like the obvious thing to ask for, he wasn’t sure he particularly wanted them. He wasn’t sure what he was after.

  “Of course, in that case, we can help. What did you say his name was?”

  “Riley James.”

  “Do you know the dates he stayed here, Sir?”

  “I believe it was during the weekend of June twentieth.”

  “One moment, please.”

  Leo slipped his finger along the edge of his collar and loosened it. He felt hot and uncomfortable all of a sudden and was starting to think that this was a waste of time—looking for something where there probably was nothing. Just his overactive imagination and intuitive dislike of the man getting the better of him.

  “Yes, Sir, we have a contact number. One for the United States and one for here, a cell phone.”

  “I’ll take both.” Not particularly wanting either, Leo wrote the information down anyway. All it told him was that Riley had been at the hotel that weekend and that he was from the US, as he’d told them. No new information at all.

  “He stayed there for that weekend?” said Leo, getting ready to hang up.

  “Yes, for that weekend only. Oh, wait. There’s something else.”

  Leo stopped writing.

  “I have a notice here saying that the gentleman and his fiancée had been due to get married that same weekend but the wedding had been canceled earlier.”

  The hairs along Leo’s arms crept up slowly before the hairs on his neck did the same.

  A wedding? Riley’s wedding?

  It had to have been a mistake. “Which gentleman?” Leo was sure he’d either misheard or the receptionist had the name wrong.

  “Riley James.”

  Riley James?

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, Sir. I have it here. The wedding was canceled about a month before the date of the event.”

 

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