What Belongs to Her (Harlequin Superromance)

by Rachel Brimble

  “That’s nice, but—”

  “Nice?” He pulled the phone from his ear and stared at it. Nice? He put it back to his ear.

  She laughed. “What’s wrong with nice?”

  He scowled, his male pride well and truly dented. “Sasha, when a man has taken a woman on a kitchen counter and had her whisper her pleasure in his ear, he doesn’t appreciate being called nice.”

  “I can’t believe you just said that.” She laughed. “My God, you’d better be alone right now.”

  “I am.” He grinned. “Where are you?”

  “Outside Marian’s.”

  “Cancel the taxi. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” He snapped the phone shut and strode to his desk. Whistling, he yanked his jacket from the back of his chair and his keys from the desktop.

  Walking outside, he locked the office and made his way through the fair, talking to as many employees as possible, telling him they were on their own for the afternoon and making sure they had his cell number. Nerves leaped through him. Sasha’s words of warning about Freddy pummeled at his conscience no matter how hard he tried to fight them.

  He couldn’t stay here day in and day out, waiting for Freddy’s next move. When or if it came, he’d deal with it. Deep inside, the right thing was for Sasha to have Funland and make it hers. Once he found out the real reason she wanted it so badly and that it wouldn’t bring her more pain—or that Kyle hadn’t done anything to make someone else want it more and potentially threaten her—he’d find out for sure if his suspicion that the contract clause would be invalid now Funland was his. If he was right, John would hand it over and didn’t want a penny in return.

  Until then, he’d watch her back and hope she came to care for him as much as he cared for her. He’d yet to find a way to break through the barrier of distrust that lingered like a black shield in her eyes. He yearned to explore the feeling that Sasha was his destiny. A destiny he would never acknowledge Kyle had unwittingly—or wittingly—brought about.

  He strode toward his car and slid onto the seat. Turning the ignition, the engine roared to life and John left the parking lot.

  * * *

  IT HAD TAKEN ducking into Marian’s for a can of diet soda to cool the fire burning in every feminine pore from Sasha’s lips to her panties after John’s referral to her ear whispering. Hardly an hour had passed since their kitchen thing without her quivering as she reminisced over a snatched moment or two. Her memories were driving her insane. Once John had left her apartment the night before, she’d bounced from being relieved he was gone and knowing it was for the best, to wanting to yank open her apartment door and slam him against the elevator wall for some more wild sex.

  Like an itch she couldn’t resist scratching, he provided a tantalizing combination of pleasure versus pain every time she looked into his sea-blue eyes. His humor, his protectiveness and even his anger toward Kyle resonated through her, making her want John more and more.

  At the sound of an approaching engine, Sasha snapped her gaze to the right. His car moved slowly through traffic, indicator flashing. She straightened her shoulders and ignored the knot that yanked tight in her lower regions when he pulled his stupid fancy car to a stop at the curb.

  The warm temperature was the perfect excuse to lower the roof. Why did the sight of his car with the top down fill her with such girlish excitement? Clearly, her lack of interest in boys and their first cars when she’d been a teenager had left behind a residual need to play passenger in a hot car with a hot man.

  He moved to get out of the car and she quickly yanked on the passenger door handle. “Stay where you are. I’ve got it.”

  He slumped back and smiled. “You really don’t like me opening doors for you, do you?”

  “Among other things. I’m sure by the end of the day you will have managed to add a few more to the list.”

  She flashed him a smile and slid into the luxury of butter-soft leather, instantly reminded of Liam’s revelation that John was a multimillionaire, albeit from his father’s less-than-moral earnings. If John came away with a different feeling about Kyle after being reunited with him, he had the money to do whatever—and go wherever—he wanted. For her, the entirety of her money would be used in getting the fair back, if he agreed to sell it back to her, of course. She’d have the fair and she’d be in Templeton, just like she always wanted.

  So, why did that scenario suddenly make her feel trapped instead of free?

  A shiver whispered up her spine, and she snapped on her seat belt. She glanced toward John.

  He frowned. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She forced a smile. “It might be best we move away from the bakery, though.”

  He glanced past her toward the shop window, and she followed his gaze. Marian stood at the other side of the glass, scowling at them, her hands fisted on her hips. Sasha waved, and Marian promptly shook her head. Sasha turned to John and quirked her eyebrow. “Do you think?”

  He checked the mirrors before pulling into traffic. They sped from Templeton with only the radio breaking the silence. Yet the atmosphere didn’t feel awkward or tense, and Sasha slipped deeper into the seat, her head falling back against the headrest. It felt comfortable and right. Her gaze danced over his hands as they maneuvered the steering wheel, down to his biteable forearms with their sinewy tendons and muscles, up to his biceps encased in black cotton...

  “You’re staring.”

  She started and flicked her gaze to his smiling profile. “So?”

  Without hesitation, he reached for her hand and lifted it onto his denim-clad thigh and held it there. Her heart stuttered, but she didn’t pull away. She’d allow herself to enjoy this drive and be thankful she wasn’t alone on a train, going through each anticipated second of her visit with her mother.

  This was better, much better.

  “Shall I program the GPS? Or will you direct me?” His voice broke through her happy reverie.

  “I’ll direct you. It’s about an hour’s drive. I hope that’s okay? I did warn you about leaving the fair too long.”

  He glanced at her, his gaze meeting hers. “I’m glad. It gives us a chance to talk.”

  “About what?” She stiffened, knowing it was only a matter of time before he mentioned what happened at her apartment.

  He smiled. “Anything we want.”

  Relief that he wasn’t pushing her softened her rigid spine, and she shifted back into the comfort of her seat. Maybe he would let her outburst about her mother go. She lifted her finger toward the windshield and a sign directing them from Templeton toward the neighboring town. “Follow the signs to Abbeyfield. Once we get there, I can direct you again.”

  The next few minutes lapsed into silence, and Sasha pondered the prospect of seeing her mother again after three months of non-face-to-face contact. She tapped her fingers to the music from the radio and tried to think of a way to bring up the subject of Kyle talking with her mother without simply demanding answers from her.

  Her mother would most likely withhold the information Sasha wanted if she sensed her desperation. Her best strategy would be to keep ahold of her temper and play it as cool as possible.

  Sasha pressed her hand to the trembling in her stomach. If she learned her mother had betrayed her, it would be another blow to her already wafer-thin sense of trust. It was one thing to deal with her mother not helping to get the fair back, but quite another if she’d had a hand in taking it from her and her granddad in the first place.

  “Do you want to talk about last night?” John’s voice broke into her thoughts.

  Damn it. Her body tensed. “Which part?”

  “The part where you mentioned your mother knowing something and not doing anything about it.” He glanced at her, his blue eyes apologetic. “I know it’s none of my business, but I care about you. I want to help you even if I can’t give you Funland just yet.”

  She eased her hand from his and laced her fingers tightly together in her lap. Her knuck
les ached. “It happened a long time ago. It’s not important.”

  “Yet you threw a glass of wine all over the place and cried.” He glanced at her. “If you don’t want to tell me, I’ll have to accept that, but don’t expect me to believe it’s not important.”

  She turned to stare at the passing view of cottages and green fields, her heart a lump in her throat. Liam’s words about appealing to John’s softer side filtered through her heart and mind, sending her emotions into a tailspin. How could she trust John as she trusted Leah? Resistance to surrender even a small amount of control over what happened to her in the past rippled through her.

  “I can’t tell you.”

  Her heart beat loudly as the longing to share with this man ebbed and flowed. She turned and stared at his profile. His expression was unreadable. He concentrated on the road ahead, a muscle moving in his jaw. The seconds beat with her heart until he reached out and lowered the volume on the radio. She held her breath and waited.

  He cleared his throat. “I don’t want you to do or say anything you don’t want to. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.” He met her eyes. “But I’m not going anywhere for a while if you want to talk about it, okay?”

  Not going anywhere for a while, but you will eventually.

  A huge, unwanted sense of loss enveloped her. She stared at him. It was now or never. If she didn’t leap now, she never would. It felt right. He felt right. She took a deep breath.

  “I was twelve.” The words slipped out and a strange sense of release washed over her. “I thought I was in love.”

  He smiled as he stared ahead. “Don’t we all at that age?”

  She swallowed. “He was older than me...a lot older.”

  His smile vanished and Sasha noticed the way he gripped the steering wheel a little harder until his knuckles showed white. “Right.”

  Stop talking. Stop talking now. “It was a Saturday afternoon when I first saw him. I was working at the fair, as always. Helping out, but mostly getting under the stallholders’ feet. He was new there. I’d never seen him before.” She huffed out a wry laugh. “I’d never noticed anyone look at me the way he did that first time. It made me feel...” She inhaled a shaky breath. “Grown-up, I guess.”

  He continued to stare through the windshield, his lips pursed tightly together.

  Sasha blew out a steadying breath. The floodgates to her heart had burst wide open. Confessions and admissions danced on her tongue, scalding it. The only way to stop them was to get them out. Get them out of her body and into the open. She prayed they would be caught on the wind, never to return.

  “Now I’m older, I see so clearly it was his fault what happened and how easily I walked straight into the scenario he had planned. The years of blaming myself, of hating myself, lasted a long time, but I’ve learned to live with them.”

  “Where is he now?”

  The tight, strained and incredibly unnerving tone of his voice sent a shiver down her spine.

  She swallowed as her mouth went dry. “I don’t know. He disappeared. As far I know, no one saw him again after those three days.”

  “Did he...?” The skin at his neck shifted.

  “He didn’t rape me, but he did make me do things I didn’t want to do. I was terrified, strangled by inexperience and fear...but I said yes anyway.”

  “You didn’t know how to deal with that situation. How could you have?”

  “I was young, but it was still me that let him—”

  “You didn’t know, Sasha.” He reached across and took her hand, tightly holding it in his lap, and she welcomed the pain of his grip. “Do you get that? You didn’t know.”

  “I know I didn’t. But I still find it hard to believe it happened to me. That it still happens to kids every day, all over the world.”

  He maneuvered the car to the side of the country road and killed the engine.

  Panic gripped her. It was easier to talk and confess when he wasn’t looking at her, when his soft, blue eyes were focused on the road and not her. She didn’t want to see pity in his gaze. Didn’t want to witness his caring when she was over her ordeal—over it in spades and all the stronger for it.

  She swallowed. “What are you doing?”

  His gaze wandered over her face, lingered at her mouth and then tentatively, gently, he leaned closer and took her jaw in his hands. He stared deep into her eyes. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  He gently wiped his thumb across her cheek. “For trusting me. Finally. It means a lot you shared that with me.”

  A traitorous tear broke and trickled over her cheek. She smiled. “You’re welcome...and I do trust you.”

  His lips touched hers, warm and in control. So comforting, so trusting, so loving that she never ever wanted to have to say she let John Jordon go. She reached up and gripped his shoulders, pulling him closer and kissing him deeper. Her heart left her body and moved under his skin, beneath the shield of his ribs to merge with his. There would be no going back. Only forward. God, please take me forward.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  AWARE OF JOHN’S gaze on her back, Sasha walked around the street corner from where he sat in his parked car. Once she was certain she was out of his view, she exhaled a shaky breath and leaned against someone’s garden wall. She needed a moment before she saw her mother and asked her questions she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answers to. Her heart beat erratically and her hands shook.

  She had to get this done. Had to remember the real or imagined promise in John’s kiss. He would be there for her—even temporarily—after her mother’s revelations. Just knowing that, she could get through whatever happened in the next few minutes.

  Pushing away from the wall, Sasha lifted her chin and smoothed her hands over the legs of her jeans. Here goes nothing.

  She strode forward, past the houses of people she didn’t know, toward a block of apartments where her mother had lived since she left Templeton. Sasha gritted her teeth. How could her mother have insisted the fair made her aware—no, ashamed—of her Romany roots? It hadn’t rung true with Sasha and now she knew why...her mother had been talking complete rubbish. Spewing excuses rather than reasons.

  Pressing the buzzer to apartment 410, Sasha drew in a long breath. The intercom crackled and her mother’s voice came through. “Hello, darling. Come on up.”

  The buzzer sounded and Sasha pulled open the door.

  Throughout the brief elevator journey to the fourth floor, Sasha’s mind whirled and her confidence wavered. She met her eyes in the mirrored wall of the elevator and pulled back her shoulders. She had come here for the truth. Once she had it, she could move on, let go of her family’s reluctance to help her secure Funland for her own and deal with her only option. To overturn Kyle’s clause and to convince John no further harm would come to her if he sold it to her.

  Her heart twisted. His hesitation to pass her the fair had very little to do with his anger toward Kyle now and a hell of a lot to do with his feelings for her. Feelings that were wholly—and scarily—reciprocated.

  “He’s going home, stupid. He’s going home.”

  She whispered the words that had kept her awake half the night, and echoed in her head while they kissed in his car. Sooner rather than later, John would return home to his own life and career.

  The doors pinged and slid open.

  Pushing John to the back of her mind for the time being, Sasha strode forward and stopped outside her mother’s closed apartment door. Swallowing against her desert-dry throat, she rapped her knuckles against the door. Barely two seconds later, it swung open and she came face-to-face with her mother after a three-month separation.

  Sasha forced a wide smile. “Hi, Mum.”

  “Darling.” Her mother grinned and opened her arms. “It’s so lovely to see you.”

  Stepping into her embrace, Sasha closed her eyes as they hugged. Her mother might have done something Sasha would be hard-pressed to forgive, but they did love each other. They slo
wly parted and, with hands joined, the door was closed and together they entered the apartment.

  It was modestly decorated in shades of pale green and cream. The three-piece sofa suite was black leather and invitingly adorned with cushions of varying sizes. The windows were open and the soft July breeze lifted the gauzy, floor-length curtains. Feeling the tension in her mother’s grip, Sasha turned and smiled.

  “This is lovely, Mum. You must be happy here.”

  She sighed. “I’d be happier if you were here with me.”

  “That’s not going to happen.” Sasha eased her hand from her mother’s and walked farther into the room.

  Snapshots of Sasha and Tanya adorned nearly every available surface, occasionally interrupted with pictures of her dead father and their childhood family Labrador, Beau. She picked up the picture of her father. “I wonder what Dad would make of you moving away from Templeton and my wanting to stay.”

  “He’d understand.”

  Irritation rippled across the surface of her forearms as Sasha replaced the photo. “Would he?” She met her mother’s gaze and their identically dark eyes locked.

  “Why don’t we sit? Do you want coffee? A cold drink?”

  Sasha moved to the sofa and sat, crossing her legs. “No, thanks. I want you to tell me what happened between you and Kyle and then I’ll go.”

  Her mother hesitated, her face a closed mask. “I’m glad you came. I’m glad you want answers. It’s time.”

  Biting back the urge to shout that she’d always had the right to know what happened with regard to Funland, Sasha leaned back into the cushions and waited.

  Her mother sat beside her. “I had no choice, Sasha. I did what I thought best to protect you.”

  “From what?”

  “From...from what happened to you.”

  Sasha breath caught painfully in her throat. “You knew. You really knew. My God, does Tanya know, too?”

  “Of course not, I would never have—”

  “Never have what? Kept my molestation from her? Or the fact you struck a deal with Kyle? A fact you’ve kept from me?”