Dirty, Dark, & Dangerous: A Contemporary Romance Boxset

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Dirty, Dark, & Dangerous: A Contemporary Romance Boxset Page 48

by Luciani, Kristen


  “I hope you’re right,” she finally whispers, opening her eyes. Something is still lurking in the depths; I can feel it. And I don’t stop feeling it, even after we drift off to sleep. Our bodies are entwined, but there’s a distance between us, one I can’t close, no matter how tight my arms are wrapped around her.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  ARIANA

  I crack open my eyes. Sunlight slithers into the suite through the sheer curtains, blinding me. It’s a harsh reminder that the massive snowball at the top of the mountain is about to start its devastating descent, and if I don’t remove myself from its path, I’ll be crushed.

  I shift under the bed sheet, running my hands over the Egyptian cotton sheets. Twelve hundred thread count. Pure luxury. And I’d enjoyed every second we were tangled in them, in between the multiple bottles of wine and professions of love, of course. Dammit. My temples throb. All I want to do right now is shove my head in a toilet bowl… for multiple reasons.

  “Morning, beautiful.”

  A low, gravelly voice approaching my ear sends chills shimmying down my spine. Even in my current state, I welcome the idea of having Jeff’s taut body sprawled on top of me again, feeling his magical fingers exploring every orifice, experiencing his hot, hungry tongue tasting me from head to toe—

  “That alarm of yours has been going off for about ten minutes.”

  I let out a groan and flip over. “I can’t move.”

  “I think I can come up with a few ways to solve that problem.” He smooths back my hair.

  A smile lifts my lips. His deep brown eyes twinkle, making me forget everything for a blissful, fleeting minute. And then it all comes rushing back, like an all-consuming wave, ready to pummel me into the shore. My throat tightens, and the nausea is back with a vengeance. “No time. I have to go. Eva is probably flipping out that I’m not already upstairs.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.” The twinkle fades, the perfect white smile now forlorn. He has to know. I’m as transparent as a fucking clear glass window.

  “I had a really great time.” I rise, clutching the sheet to my bare chest. I want to tell him I’m crazy about him, that he’s all I can think about, but it’ll only make things worse.

  “Ariana…”

  I put my hand over his. “I really have to get ready now. Hair and makeup are on the way. You know what’ll happen if I don’t get back to the suite.” Bile rises in my throat as I throw my legs over the side of the bed. I can’t stay here for another second. I can’t tell him I’m a fraud, or that despite the fact that I love him, I’m a fucking liar, and this whole sham is about to crumble around us. I can’t tell him he’s been deceived by the same person he claims to love, not when he’s about to have his whole world shattered.

  “Don’t go. We need to talk. Last night, you told me—”

  I slip into my tight, black dress from the night before and slide into my heels. “I know what I told you. And I meant it.” I manage a weak smile and run my fingertips down the front of his chest.

  “Then why do you look ready to bolt? If I pressured you, I’m sorry. But at least be honest with me.”

  He grabs my wrist and my throat tightens. Be honest. Ha. The truth would crush him. I can’t do that, not today. I have to figure out how to cushion the blow. God, I fucking love him, and seeing that look of dejection in his eyes is shredding my heart. “It was all true, Jeff. Everything.” Tears spring to my eyes and I grab my handbag.

  “Then why are you pulling away? I don’t understand what changed from last night, but this isn’t over, Ari.” The pained look on his face tells me, in no uncertain terms, that he thinks I’m full of shit. How ironic that he doesn’t even know the whole sordid story.

  “Yes, it is. See you at the altar.” My lips brush against his forehead for a brief second. I squeeze my eyes shut, but it’ll only hold the tears at bay for so long. I pull open the door handle and dart from the room without a backward glance. Because I know if I look back, I won’t be able to drag myself away. It’s what I need to do, what I was supposed to do long before I ended up in his bed, and what I should have done last night. But fate…she’s a bitch with a sick sense of humor.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  ARIANA

  Waves crash against the cliff, sunlight glinting atop the crystal blue waters, the perfect backdrop to a fairy tale wedding. I breathe in the sweet smell of the Pacific, hoping it will calm my frayed nerves. No such luck. The soft music commences, the signal to begin my walk.

  A shiver runs through me, despite the warmth blanketing the air. My heart thrums, my eyes sweeping the crowd of guests lining the floral-adorned aisle. I blink quickly, praying the tears gathered at the corners of my eyes don’t fall and completely destroy my eye makeup. My heart aches, but I’ll be damned if the rest of me doesn’t look perfect. I take one step, then two, my throat tightening. I force my gaze forward, but my eyes betray me and latch onto Jeff’s dejected ones. Each step closer makes me die a bit more, but I need to be strong…for everyone’s sake.

  The lump in my throat morphs from a golf ball into a baseball. I’m a mere five steps away, and my knees wobble like I’m a little girl walking in her mom’s heels for the first time. I take my place, opposite Jeff. So many emotions pool in his eyes, but the most prevalent one is sadness. He saw right through me this morning, not that I made much of an effort to throw him off.

  I draw in a deep breath and force my head toward the end of the aisle. My sister Eva is a vision in white silk twill. After all of her angst and anxiety about the size of the dress, it fits her like a glove. She doesn’t walk, she glides. Her smile is brighter than the early afternoon sunshine as she makes her way toward us. I try to focus on her, but again, my heart betrays my mind. Jeff is in my periphery, setting my insides ablaze under his hungry stare. Why isn’t he looking at the bride, for chrissakes? Everyone else is! He needs to stop looking at me now! I manage a quivering smile as I fluff my sister Eva’s dress. She returns it with a glowing one of her own. Oh Eva, if you could only see what lies behind this smile, I’d really be fucked.

  I try to focus on the minister’s words, the vows of eternal love and everlasting devotion, and the heartfelt emotion in the exchange of rings, but too many thoughts cloud my mind. I grit my teeth and focus on blocking them all out, at least until I can get my hands on a glass of something heavily alcoholic.

  “I now pronounce you husband and wife. Damon, you may kiss the bride.”

  Damon pulls Eva in for a tight embrace before planting his lips on hers for the most un-chaste kiss I’ve ever seen at a wedding. Forget anything you’ve ever heard about church tongue because it just doesn’t apply here. At all. Good thing they opted for a secular ceremony because God would not have approved. I clap along with the rest of the guests, trying to ignore the tingling between my thighs. No, not from watching them kiss. That would be kind of sick. It’s from the memory of Jeff’s lips on mine…and everywhere else on my body last night. Much as I’ve tried to bury it all, I can’t. An icy sensation snakes around my heart and squeezes. I knew meeting him at the hotel room last night was a mistake, especially after what I’d found out from Nate. Not that I’d been able to find out anything that can help me save Jeff from his own fate. Dammit, I guess I just love self-inflicted torture. It’s the reason why things happened with Jeff in the first place. And the reason why they finally need to end, especially before his smoldering gaze has a chance to melt off another pair of my lace panties.

  I need to keep my head clear and my eyes peeled. It’s the only shot I have left at saving him from himself.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  JEFF

  Watching her watch them because she can’t look at me is fucking maddening. I grit my teeth, desperate to keep my mouth shut when all I want to do is yell. I fucked everything up when I told her I loved her. She’s not ready to go down that path.

  Maybe she never will be.

  I thought she could get beyond the issue with our families, tho
ught none of that would matter if she knew how I really felt. My gaze is unwavering. I have her pinned like she’s a bug being smoked under a microscope. She averts her eyes and shifts in those insanely sexy heels. God, I’d love to do bad things to her while she’s wearing nothing but those heels.

  Then there’s the Conlon thing, the big ass elephant in the room. Well, okay, not exactly, since it is Conlon we’re talking about. My fucking archenemy. She never answered me when I asked her if she was fucking him. My chest tightens, and the sudden urge to cripple him pummels me like a tsunami.

  Eva and Damon finally break their kiss and walk down the aisle toward the reception as husband and wife. I know the timing is bad; it usually is when I decide to act. But I can’t have these unanswered questions hanging over me. I need answers, even if they aren’t the ones I want to hear.

  I grasp her wrist before she has a chance to slip past me. “We’re partners,” I murmur. “You can’t escape.”

  She gives me a half-smile. “I wasn’t trying to.”

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” She links her arm with mine as we follow the happy couple. Fuck, I want to be part of a happy couple. Why doesn’t she want the same thing? “Tell me you didn’t feel the same things I did when we were together.”

  “Jeff, it’s so much more complicated than you know. But I can’t talk about it right now.”

  “Why not?” I hiss. “What are you so afraid of?”

  She turns and looks at me when we reach the end of the aisle. Throngs of guests mingle around us under a silk canopy as champagne flutes are passed. Her eyes are wide, and I can see so much in the depths – panic, sadness, and fear. “Me, Jeff. I’m afraid of me.”

  She pulls away from me and hurries after Eva, but not before she stops to take one long look at me from a few feet away. She’s conflicted, I can see it written all over her face. I clench my fists. I’m not letting her go. She’s going to have to tell me she doesn’t love me before I’ll give up this fight.

  I won’t be able to move on unless I hear those words from her. And even right now, as I catch a glimpse of her pained expression, I know she can’t say them. That gives me a shred of hope and a sliver of a chance.

  I never fought for the important shit before, but I’ve learned my lesson the hard way. I can’t give up. Not yet.

  My iPhone vibrates in my pocket and I grab it. Rand’s name flashes across the screen. I stab the Accept button and walk back toward the desolate area where Eva and Damon just said their I dos. Luckily, everyone is swimming in booze right now, so nobody is paying attention to me.

  “Talk to me, Rand.”

  “Jeff, what the fuck? I’ve called you about five times since yesterday.”

  “Yeah, and my son just got married, remember? I’ve been a little busy.”

  “Just got married. As in, now. That doesn’t explain why you ignored me all night. Kegs told me about Ariana Carlson. Does she have something to do with it?”

  The ocean breeze whips through my hair and I rake a hand through it. “Maybe. But Kegs already read me the riot act, and I don’t need to hear it again, got it?”

  Rand lets out a sigh. “Jeff, you need to stay away from her.”

  “Why? What fucking difference does it make?”

  “Monday was supposed to be the day…but Conlon…set up…ready...and then—“

  “Wait, you’re breaking up. Tell me again.”

  “Because…Conlon…transfer….money…showed up…”

  “What the fuck is going on? I can’t understand what you’re saying! Who showed up? Did he do the transfer?” Goddamn this place and its crap ass reception.

  Rand is still trying to speak, but his words are getting fewer and farther between until they just drop altogether. Motherfucker.

  “Jeff.”

  I spin around to find Kate approaching. Great timing, as usual. I stuff my phone back in my pocket and fold my arms over my chest.

  “I don’t know why you have to give me that confrontational pose. I’m not here to yell at you.” She cocks an eyebrow. “Unless there’s something going on that would make me want to yell at you.”

  “Nothing I can think of.” I force a tight smile even though I want to throw a chair or two off this fucking cliff. Something happened, and I have no idea what or when the hell I can find out more, especially with Kate on my ass.

  There is a small part of me that’s relieved, though. I can’t lie. If Conlon acted and we missed our window, the jig is up. I can finally leave it all behind me, along with my demons, clearing my path for a real future.

  Kate tugs at one of my arms. “Come on. You shouldn’t be out here by yourself. Besides, I need to talk to you. Privately.”

  I shake off her hand. “I’m not in the mood for games, Kate.”

  Her eyes narrow. “Who said anything about games?”

  “Mom! Dad!” I look up to see Damon waving us over. “We need you for pictures!” Saved. Thank God. The last thing I need right now is Kate bitching at me for something. I need to find Ariana. I have to find out what the hell is going on in her head and why she keeps pushing me away.

  “Let’s go,” I say in a gruff voice, brushing past Kate.

  “I’ll just find you later for our little chat,” she calls out. “You can’t escape me forever, Jeff.”

  I grit my teeth. Maybe not, but I’m damn well gonna try.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  ARIANA

  The bartender hands me another crystal flute, and I guzzle it, just like the four others sitting in front of me. Pretty impressive, considering we were taking family pictures up until twenty minutes ago. My vision is a little fuzzy, but not enough to miss the tall, skinny blonde bitch pawing at Jeff. I narrow my eyes. Does she have to press her huge fake boobs into his chest while laughing like some ditzy teenager? I slam the delicate glass on the bar. Goddammit! I did this. Me.

  Despite what I know, I can’t walk away from him. I did something really stupid. A livelihood-crusher. I fell in love with Jeff, craving him with every inch of my being. He’s my crack. One taste, and I was never the same again. But the withdrawal is agonizing, and I’ve crumbled a few times too many. Each time, I swore it would be the last, just like I did last night.

  I can’t seem to drag myself away from the one person who, in the most unlikely of circumstances, has actually made me feel something. And it hurts like hell, knowing I can’t have what I so desperately want.

  I thought this promotion was it for me. I was wrong. So very wrong. And now my hands are tied. Not in the good way, either.

  “Looks like you could use another.” A husky voice startles me out of my salacious thoughts.

  A tall, handsome guy grins at me and sticks out a hand. “Tanner Matthews.”

  I force a smile. “Nice to meet you, Tanner. And yes-s, you’re right. I can definitely use another.” Shit, I just slurred. Not good. I grip the edge of the bar. My eyes scour the crowd, hoping for another glimpse of Jeff because not even Adonis himself could pry my fixation off that juicy forbidden fruit. Have I mentioned how very screwed I am?

  Tanner waves his hand at the bartender and orders another round for us. He turns back to me, his eyes raking over my body, which admittedly, is a bit too tightly crammed into this mermaid-style thing Eva has us all wearing. Blech.

  He hands me a full flute. “So, you’re alone. That’s a shame, but maybe we can do something about that.”

  Mid-gulp and woozy as I am, the innuendo impales me like a hot poker. “What makes-s you think I want to do anything about it?”

  He leans in closer, and the stale scent of scotch has me clutching my midsection. “I’ve been to enough weddings to know how things work. Single, hot girls revved up on booze and starry-eyed under the magical spell of love and romance, all with the intent of getting laid.”

  I choke on my next attempt to gulp the remaining champagne, and bubbles spew from my nose. Damn, that burns.

  “Aha. So I caught you.” Tanner’s gaz
e morphs into something decidedly more like a leer. “You can be honest. That’s why you were hanging out here by yourself. I can read the signs.” He sweeps a hand through his longish blond hair, and the dimples that should have made him irresistible were now just placeholders for the areas where I wanted to land my punches.

  This guy’s slime is just oozing from every crevice. I’ll need a scalding hot shower, bleach, and a wire brush to scrub off the lingering stink of douchebag. I narrow my eyes, trying to kill him with my mind, but darn it, he’s still wearing that shit-eating grin. Could he be any more disgusting and lewd? “I’m pretty s-sure you can’t, s-since the one plastered on my forehead clearly s-says Fuck Off.”

  He chuckles. Really? Like this is supposed to be some twisted game of cat and mouse? “I’m a glutton for punishment, I guess. I like a challenge.”

  I clench my fingers around the glass, pretending the stem is his neck. “Well, s-since you 100% make me want to throw up in my mouth, I’d have to s-say I don’t agree.”

  He leans closer, the scent of spice swirling around my nostrils. Yep, I’m definitely about to hurl. Any person who can take the delicious essence of Prada and turn it into something so noxious is one to be avoided at all costs.

  “I’m a fun guy, I promise. Come on, let’s go find a coat closet, and I’ll prove it to you.”

  My mouth drops open. I’ll admit it, being propositioned by a guy whom I’ve told, in no uncertain terms, that he makes me physically ill is foreign to me. “I think you’ve already demonstrated everything I need to know.”

 

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