One Night to Risk It All

by Maisey Yates

  “You loved him?”

  “Always,” she heard a catch in her sister’s voice. “I’ve always loved him.”

  A tear slid down Rachel’s cheek. It was so easy to cry these days. “I’m so glad you married him, Leah, because I didn’t love him. I never did. And if I’d had any idea that you did...I would never have put us all through this.”

  “It worked out. More than worked out. I’m so happy with him.”

  “I’m just... I’m glad. I’m so glad.”

  “Okay, now you have to tell me about Alex, because I’ve been worried about you. We’ve been worried about you. Ajax, too.”

  Rachel smiled. “Yes, he would be. Of course.”

  “And Alex...he’s Alexios Christofides.”

  Rachel hesitated. “He is.”

  “Did you know?”

  She swallowed. “Not at first. But I did when I ran out of the wedding. I mean, that’s the thing that I sort of need to tell you all.” There was no easy or painless way to say it. So she just soldiered on. “I’m pregnant. Alex and I are having a baby.”

  “Oh... Oh, my gosh. I don’t know what to say. I’ll make you a candy bouquet for your shower.”

  Rachel laughed. “Oh, wow. Candy bouquet. Thank you. I don’t...I don’t think I want a shower, actually. I think I’m going crazy.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s not... He doesn’t... He wants to marry me because of the baby. I said yes. I finally said yes because he’s the father of my child and there’s no other man I want to marry. So yes seemed like the thing to say. But now I’ve said it and it just feels... I’m scared. About all of it. Having a husband who doesn’t love me. Having a baby when I can’t remember the last time I held one.”

  “I can...see where that would be terrifying.”

  “Right?”

  “And I know what it’s like to marry a man knowing he doesn’t love you. To have him look at you and know...and know it’s not you he wants.”

  “Oh, Leah...”

  Her sister paused for a moment. “If you don’t want to marry him just come home.”

  “I think I do. Want to, I mean. I think I need to.”

  “Because of the baby? You don’t, Rachel. We would all support you. You know that.”

  “I know,” she looked down at her hands. Except she didn’t know that. One more step out of line and she was finished. She was very likely finished already. “I do know that. I need to for me. Because as much as sometimes I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing with him, I know I wouldn’t be happy without him.”

  “That’s the worst. I totally know how you feel.”

  “Ajax?”

  “It’s all good now,” Leah said, sighing, “but at first...yeah. I had to make a choice. Did I want to be with him, even knowing that it wasn’t going to be ideal, or did I want to be without him.”

  “And obviously you chose to be with him.”

  “Yes, and it worked out. But it doesn’t always.”

  “I know that.”

  It was weird taking advice from her younger sister, but she badly needed it in a lot of ways. Because Leah was the authority on it, after all.

  “I know you know, but someone has to say it. Just in case it got knocked out of your head by Alex’s sweet, sweet loving, which, I’m assuming, is what drew you to him in the first place.”

  Rachel couldn’t hold in the borderline hysterical giggle that bubbled up into her throat. “There is that. But you know...there was something else. From that first moment, there was something else.”

  She wasn’t sure exactly what the something else was. And she was very sure she didn’t want to know. Though she had a suspicion.

  And like almost everything else involving Alex, it was the most exhilarating, terrifying thing she’d ever experienced.

  “You love him,” Leah said, in the knowing tone of someone who had been afflicted by the same thing.

  Her heart sank, and a burst of joy popped inside of her at the same time. It was terrifying. And wonderful. And horrible. Suddenly it was like the walls had come down, and there was no New Rachel or Old Rachel or Rachel With the Walls of Steel Behind her Heart. There was just Rachel.

  Rachel Holt, who loved Alexios Christofides more than anything. No matter what.

  “Yes. I do. I love him.”

  * * *

  “Hello, darling.”

  Alex walked into his bedroom, well, the bedroom he usually shared with Rachel, and stopped. She was standing there in nothing but a short lace nightgown, her expression nothing short of seductive.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked, undoing the top button on his shirt. He’d been conducting most of his business via Skype for the past couple of months, when possible, so even though he didn’t leave the house, the video chats made it so he still had to dress up.

  But he wasn’t wearing a tie in his own home.

  “Of what?”

  “The seduction. Because that’s clearly what’s going on here.”

  “I told them. My sister, my father. About the baby.”

  He paused, squeezing tight on the button he’d been about to push through its hole, the blunt plastic edge biting into his finger. “And?” If they’d hurt her...if they’d said anything to her to make her feel like she’d dishonored them in some way...he feared his actions would be less than noble. Possibly less than legal.

  Because Rachel was his. And no one was ever to hurt her.

  “They were...surprisingly calm. But I think relieved because I explained why I did what I did. I mean, it’s awkward having to say to your dad ‘I met a man and I was overcome by attraction to him’ but I managed. To be honest, I think he preferred it to ‘Dad, I put the car in a ditch while I was drunk’ or ‘Dad, I gave some guy a BJ and he videoed it.’”

  “I’m certain he did,” Alex said, his throat tightening. He wished he could get his hands on the scumbag who’d done that to her, that was for sure.

  But then he really would do something illegal.

  “Yes, well...I feel like I can’t worry anymore. About letting everyone down.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yes. I need to worry about me. And us. And the baby.”

  “Not so scared of the baby now?”

  “Oh, no, terrified. Utterly terrified. But I feel a little bit more like I can breathe again. Actually, I feel like I can breathe for the first time in a long time. Because... Because if I really am okay—as I am, I mean—if I really don’t just have to be a clone of my mother? Well then maybe I can focus on being a good mom because I won’t be working so hard to keep my façade in place. Does that make sense?”

  “As much sense as any of our issues make.”

  She laughed, so sweet and beautiful in a lace nightgown, blond hair spilling over her shoulder, a seductress. Giggling. There was something so perfect about it. Something so free.

  He wanted to capture it, hold it forever.

  But then...then she wouldn’t be so free. Then she would be in a cage fashioned by him, rather than one built by Ajax or her father.

  The thought unsettled him. And yet it didn’t diminish the need to hold her to him. To claim her.

  “I guess that’s true. I mean, none of it makes sense to anyone but ourselves, right? In here, though—” she put her hand on her chest “—it’s been the realest thing in my life. Trying to deal with that critical voice, trying to best it, to be better. While secretly dying of boredom. I haven’t even been able to be myself inside. I haven’t even had emotions that belonged to me because...I was told so often I was wrong.”

  “I let go of emotions because it was the safest thing.” Except he hadn’t let go of them, not truly. Anger, rage and that impotent longing of a young boy for some kind of affec
tion...it was all still there. And he hated it.

  Silence fell between them, the light in her eyes changed. She looked fierce. Angry. “You should never have been subjected to the things you saw. It makes me want... I want to go back and protect you and I can’t. It hurts to know that I can’t.”

  He felt like she’d reached straight into his chest, taken his heart in hand and squeezed tight. “I do not need protection.”

  “Maybe not now, but you did. I wish someone had done that. I think it’s wonderful that you love your mother, in part because no one else did. But I wish, so much, that someone had stepped in and protected you.”

  “You...care about me, Rachel?” he asked. They were hard words to speak, and yet it was harder not to say them at all.

  “More than that, Alex. I actually... I wanted to say—and I was going to wait until I had you all sex-sleepy, but—I love you.”

  Alex froze. “Say it again,” he said.

  They were the words he’d wanted from someone all of his life. Words that had never, not once, been directed at him. Not by his mother, not by his father, not by a lover. Now that he’d heard them he wasn’t sure what they made him feel. It was something deep. Something hot and cold. Something that made him want to pick up a car and throw it into the ocean, or just pull her into his arms and kiss the hell out of her.

  Instead he waited, frozen inside. Even his heart had stopped. He was certain of it. Because he couldn’t breathe, not at all. The world might even have stopped turning, just waiting, on pause, for the next words that might come out of her mouth.

  “I love you.”

  She said it again, and it all started again. His heart pounding hard, causing a shift inside of him that made him feel like he was crumbling, each beat compromising the stone walls built up around him for protection.

  He couldn’t think of what to say. Or what to do. And that rarely happened to him. When it did, though, Rachel Holt seemed to be the cause of it.

  “Why?” he asked.

  He hadn’t meant to ask the question, but the minute he did, he realized it was the word pounding through his head. Because it made no sense. Because no one ever had. And he wasn’t sure why this beautiful, incredible, ridiculous woman who seemed to light the world on fire when she smiled, would feel that way about him.

  Not when he’d used her. Seduced her for revenge.

  “Because I cried in front of you. I want to seduce you, and be seduced by you, and say dirty words for you. I can sing off-key in front of you. And you don’t judge me, or look down on me. You accept me that way, and I feel like I can accept myself that way, too.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Achieving self-acceptance isn’t big enough for you? Fine, that’s not all. The sex is good, too.”

  He didn’t feel torn about what to do anymore. He crossed the room and pulled her into his arms, kissed her until neither of them could breathe. Until his lungs were filled with her. Her scent. Everything.

  Until his blood was so hot with lust he thought it would scald him inside.

  He felt wild. Out of control. Unequipped to accept what she’d given him and unable to return it.

  But one thing he knew for certain was that she was his. Love would make her stay. He’d truly done it. He had made her love him, and now that she did, she wouldn’t go.

  He’d seen that growing up. He’d seen it with his parents.

  She would stay. His Rachel would stay.

  He felt the need, the intense, unendurable need, to brand her and solidify that bond. Vows. Legal documents. He needed that marriage now. Needed to strengthen his hold.

  Because she couldn’t leave him. He couldn’t lose her.

  “Show me how much you love me,” he said, his voice a growl he didn’t recognize. The feelings in him utterly foreign, something that was also beyond his recognition.

  “How?” she asked.

  “Show me,” he repeated, feeling desperate.

  She pushed his shirt from his shoulders and kissed his neck, his chest, her fingers working at his belt, and the closure of his pants. Soon she had him naked, soft hands skimming over his body.

  He just wanted to drown in it all. In her touch. In the moment. To never have this moment pass so that he could live in it forever.

  But it was already passing, changing. And he couldn’t regret it because of where it put her hands. The way that she cupped him. Squeezed him. Teased him. Her hands sure on his body, her lips soft, her tongue hot and slick.

  She moved away from him and a kick of fire burst through him. Her not touching him was going to drive him insane, but he had to let her stop, because he had to see what she would do next.

  He was powerless to do anything but watch her.

  She took the lacy nightie off, exposed her body to him slowly. And in her eyes he saw her emotions. She wasn’t pausing to make jokes. Wasn’t interrupting the moment, the tension, with a comment.

  It was the first time she’d simply met his eyes and taken her clothes off.

  He was glad she wasn’t talking because he was sure he couldn’t have spoken if he’d wanted to.

  She returned to him, full breasts pressed against his chest. He pushed his thigh between her legs, felt her wetness on his skin. Her desire for him.

  He put his hand on her lower back and rocked against her. Her head fell back, lush lips parted, a sweet sound of pleasure escaping her mouth.

  He cupped her chin, held her steady, bending to kiss her as he continued to move, continued to pleasure her.

  He would give her this. Not love. But this. And she loved him, so it would be enough. Because she’d said he made her feel good. And that the sex mattered.

  He would show her just how good he could make her feel. Just how much sex mattered. He would give her everything that he had to give. Everything.

  He slipped his thigh from between her legs and walked her backward to the bed, pushing her down so that her butt was resting on the mattress and her legs were over the side. “I need you,” he said, the words painful to force out. “You don’t know how much.”

  He hooked her legs over his hips and thrust into her. Her back bowed off of the bed, her round breasts thrust into prominence. He took one nipple in his mouth and sucked it in deep, until she moaned. Until he felt her internal muscles tighten around his cock.

  She grabbed his shoulders, her fingernails digging into his back as he thrust into her, hard and uncontrolled. He didn’t have it in him to be measured. Wasn’t able to take his time.

  He needed her too badly. He needed to keep going, to run from the roar of blood in his ears, to push toward a release that would make the ache in his chest go away. That would make everything clear and calm. An orgasm to purge him of all the longing and pain that were weighing him down.

  He gripped her hips, tugged her to meet his body with each movement. He couldn’t get enough. He didn’t think he ever would. He’d never felt like this before. Like he was unraveling at the seams.

  She cried out her release and it pushed him over the edge, his climax engulfing him as he leaned forward, hands braced on the mattress on either side of her as he shuddered out his release. His muscles were shaking, his body trembling. It had been the most intense sexual experience of his life.

  But it hadn’t taken away the weight. The pain. The confusion.

  But it had left one thing deeply rooted in him. She was his.

  He moved away from her, lay down on the bed beside her, his legs off the edge like hers, as he tried to catch his breath.

  “I will plan the wedding for as soon as it can possibly be coordinated,” he said.

  “What?”

  He looked over at her, watched her breathe hard. It was rewarding when she was topless. And yes, even with all of his inner turmoil he appreciated the gentle motion o
f her breasts. Or perhaps, because of the inner turmoil, he appreciated it particularly.

  “The wedding. There is no point in putting it off. Your pregnancy is going to become evident soon.” He put his hands on her stomach, it was a bit fuller than the last time he’d done that. A strange surge of pride shot through him, one he didn’t want to examine too closely.

  “Maybe I like the maternity bride look.”

  “Do you really?”

  “No.”

  “Okay then, since you’ve made the decision. And since you love me...I see no reason to put it off.”

  “You’re high-handed.”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re the younger man. You’re supposed to be my boy toy, but you’re all alpha and stuff.”

  He rolled over and put his hands on either side of her, his chest touching her breasts. “You like it.”

  “I do.”

  “So don’t complain. We will be married within the next couple of weeks. I’ll hire a coordinator and you can submit all of your ideas to her.”

  “Well, that sounds...easy.”

  His heart seized up. “You have a complaint about it?”

  “No, not at all. Not really. I already kind of just planned a wedding. For the entire last year of my life. And I ended up not going to it, so this is kind of... I don’t really care what this one is like.”

  That hit him wrong. “You don’t care what your wedding to me is like after you spent a year planning your wedding to Ajax?”

  “Don’t be that way. That’s not what I meant. I’m just... The wedding itself doesn’t seem that important, all things considered. It’s what it means. It’s what our lives will be after.”

  “And what will our lives be?” he asked.

  “We’ll be together.”

  Yes, she was his. She truly was. His muscles relaxed, his entire body getting the post-sex languor he’d been anticipating.

  There was nothing to worry about. He’d been in control of all of this, from beginning to end. Sure, things had gone off the rails a couple of times, but in the end, he was getting what he wanted.

  In the end, he was getting her.