Dazzling

by Elizabeth Hayley

  He looked around and tried to see it through her eyes. The thought made him cringe a little. The marble floors of his foyer gave way to dark hardwood floors that sat beneath his white furniture. The open space led out onto a large balcony where he had set up a candlelit dinner. Candles were relaxing. Right?

  Siobhan walked in and scanned the space: his massive entertainment center, his floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked Manhattan, the spiral staircase that led to the second floor. She looked overwhelmed.

  “Wow, Derick. This is…this is really nice.” She meant it. He could tell that much. But it didn’t necessarily sound like she thought that was a good thing.

  Derick didn’t want the evening to get awkward so he stepped over to her and pulled her into a hug. “I missed you.”

  He felt her smile against his shoulder. “You just saw me two days ago.”

  “I miss you when you’re not with me.” The way she returned his hug and melted into him made him confident he’d made a positive turn in the evening.

  “Excuse me, Monsieur Miller. Would you like to start the first course now?”

  Derick felt Siobhan stiffen. “Yes, Philippe. That’d be great.”

  Philippe nodded and returned to the kitchen.

  Siobhan pulled back slightly and looked over her shoulder toward the kitchen. “Who’s that?”

  “Philippe.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I figured that much. Is he, like, your own personal chef or something?”

  “No, of course not.”

  Her shoulders seemed to sag in relief.

  “He’s a chef at Per Se.”

  Eyes widening, Siobhan took a step back. “You hired a chef from one of the most expensive French bistros in Manhattan. Even I’ve heard of that place.”

  Derick wasn’t sure how to answer, so he just went with the truth. “Well, yeah. I guess.”

  She looked at him curiously.

  Derick grabbed Siobhan’s hand and pulled her out onto the balcony where he gave her a glass of champagne from the table. “I had a culinary emergency. So I called Arnaud, the owner of Per Se, and asked if I could hire one of his chefs for the night. We’ve done business together and become friends. It wasn’t a big deal.”

  She looked out at the city skyline for a few moments before her gaze settled back on Derick’s. Her anxiety was almost palpable. “Sorry, but I’m suddenly not feeling great. I think I need to go home.” Siobhan walked over to a chair where she’d set down her purse and slung its strap over her shoulder. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Derick trailed after her as she began walking toward the elevator. “If you don’t feel well, why don’t you stay here tonight?”

  “No, thanks. I have a bad headache. I wouldn’t be very good company.” Siobhan pressed the button for the elevator and the doors slid open. She turned to look at him.

  “Siobhan—” Derick started, with a hint of anger and confusion in his voice, but Siobhan cut him off.

  “’Night, Derick,” she said, as she got on.

  As the doors started to slide closed, Derick knew he was losing her. He darted forward and pushed the doors open. “You know, one of these times, you’re going to run away, and I’m not going to run after you.”

  Chapter 19

  Siobhan looked down at the elevator floor. “I can’t do this, Derick.”

  “What is ‘this’ exactly?”

  Siobhan raised her head, a humorless laugh leaving her as she lifted her hands at her sides. “It’s everything. Penthouse elevators, private cars, a billionaire boyfriend. I can’t do any of it. It’s too much for me.”

  Derick’s head tilted forward, showing the broad strength in his shoulders as he kept his arms braced against the elevator doors. “You can’t or you won’t?”

  Siobhan shrugged. “Either. Both. Doesn’t matter. It was never going to work. We should just end it now.”

  Derick straightened his posture and crossed his arms over his chest. She shouldn’t have been thinking about how hot he looked standing like that, but she was. Damn him and his muscles.

  “Tell me why.”

  Siobhan stood there silently, not knowing what to say.

  “Don’t I deserve an explanation?”

  Hesitating for a moment, all Siobhan could do was nod her head and follow him off of the elevator when he stepped back.

  Derick walked to the kitchen and leaned in. “Philippe, thank you for all you’ve done, but could we have some privacy?”

  Philippe looked confused, and rightfully so. He hadn’t even served them dinner and Derick was dismissing him. “Would you like me to at least clean up first?”

  “I’ll take care of it. Thank you.”

  Siobhan wandered into the living room while Derick showed Philippe out. When Derick returned, he settled onto his couch and looked at her expectantly.

  Siobhan didn’t know what to say or where to start. She looked at Derick, his amber eyes full of hurt. He was such a good man. A man who deserved the truth. “I know you went to a lot of trouble tonight, and I appreciate it. I do. But the hired chef, the formal dinner, I don’t want any of that. I’ve already had it.”

  Derick leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs, looking confused. “What?”

  “Look, I don’t need to work tons of shitty jobs to make rent. I don’t need to struggle to get by. I choose to live that way.”

  Derick looked confused. “Why?”

  And there was the billion-dollar question. “I do it because I can’t have the money and the art. I had to choose.”

  Derick’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean you had to choose?”

  Siobhan sighed and sat down in a chair across from him. “My parents have money. Well, my stepdad does. Not billionaire status, but he makes a good living. He and my mom run a successful cattle ranch in Oklahoma. They’re hardworking people who can appreciate art as something you hang on a wall, or as a hobby at most. But they can’t accept it as a full-time job. Especially not for their only child.”

  “So they refused to support you if you became an artist?”

  “Basically”—Siobhan looked down at her hands—“yes. They helped me get through college, and I’m grateful for that. But I don’t want their help anymore.”

  Derick stood and walked over to the balcony window, his hands in his pockets. He was quiet a minute before he turned back to her. “I don’t get it. What does that have to do with me?”

  “I’m feeling overwhelmed from every direction. I like you, really like you, but seeing you—well not actually seeing you, but being with you, reminds me of what could happen. My mother may have money now, but I didn’t grow up that way. I’m uncomfortable with all of this.

  “My mom married my stepdad when I was thirteen. My dad died in a car accident when I was four—I barely remember him—but my mom was the best. She was a teacher, but her goal was to be a professor. She was taking night classes to get her Master’s degree when she met my stepdad. And then…she just stopped.”

  “Stopped what?”

  “Stopped everything. Stopped taking classes, stopped talking about how much she loved teaching, stopped wanting to become a professor. When they got engaged, she quit teaching altogether. It was like her hopes and dreams completely collapsed and condensed to fit into his life, because he was the one with the money, so he was the only one who got a say.”

  Siobhan felt some of the tension leave with her words. But the cause for it was still there. “Your wealth is intimidating. Add it to the fact that I worry I’m reliving my mother’s life, and I just…I’m scared, Derick. I’m scared that I’ll just give up on my dreams because it’s easier not to pursue them.”

  Derick’s eyes narrowed. “You really think you’d do that?”

  Siobhan sighed. “Not intentionally. But my mom didn’t do it intentionally, either. No one knows how their life will turn out. Look at yours.”

  “That’s true. But giving up on a dream is an active choice. A choice I don’t think y
ou’d make. Do you?”

  Siobhan shrugged. “I don’t know. College was a break from the easy lifestyle I’d become accustomed to, so I welcomed it. But I can’t live like a college kid all my life, working a million odd jobs until my real career begins. Everyone has their breaking point. And I’d be lying if I said I want to live paycheck to paycheck for the rest of my life, chasing a dream I might never catch.”

  “You’ll catch it.” Derick’s words came out so quickly she wondered if he actually believed them.

  She swallowed hard. “It’s just that looking at all of this”—she gestured around his apartment—“and doing all of these extravagant things with you, it just reminds me that I’ll probably never earn a life like that on my own.”

  Derick breathed in deeply, and reached out to rub a calming hand on Siobhan’s back. “You realize the majority of the world doesn’t get to live a life like this, right?” Derick nearly laughed. “You can’t compare yourself to me, because we aren’t the same.”

  “Clearly.” Siobhan laughed for the first time since she’d entered Derick’s apartment. “Your bathroom’s the size of my whole apartment.”

  Derick gave her a playful squeeze on the back of her neck, which made her shiver. “That’s ridiculous. You haven’t even seen my bathroom. It’s probably only like half the size.”

  Then Derick pulled her in close and his voice sobered. “We’re not the same because you have a goal you’ve been working the majority of your life to reach. And more importantly, you have the talent to actually achieve it.”

  Siobhan pulled back so she could look Derick in the eyes. “You really think that’s enough?”

  “I do.” Derick gave her a kiss on her forehead. “Plus, you’ve got an amazingly sweet boyfriend who will do whatever it takes to cheer you up when you’re upset.”

  Siobhan’s eyes raked over Derick’s hard body, which she just noticed looked especially delicious in his perfectly fitted dark-gray button-up. “Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?”

  “Dinner?” he answered with an amused grin.

  “Hmm, I was kind of thinking we could eat late tonight.” Then she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

  Chapter 20

  Derick’s mouth moved slowly in response, parting hers with his soft tongue. Somehow it was exactly what she needed. All her remaining reservations seemed to melt away the moment she kissed him. Maybe that’s why she did it.

  Her body responded instantly as he leaned her back onto the couch slowly and held himself above her. His lips moved from her mouth down her jawline and neck and he stopped only to remove her shirt.

  Neither of them spoke, and they didn’t need to. The physical connection and the way their eyes locked as Derick slipped the rest of her clothing off said more than any words could have. She watched him undress, retrieving a condom from his wallet and sliding it over himself as he stood above her.

  As he lowered himself to her, his skin pressing against hers, she ached to have him inside her. But it wasn’t just a carnal need as it had been before. Their previous encounters had been full of passion—an urgent attack of hormones rushing them to an inevitable end.

  This time it was something more—a slow melding of bodies as he pushed into her and the two of them became one, a slow rock of his hips as Derick moved inside of her. Their movements remained in sync as they gave each other gentle touches and slow kisses.

  Gradually their breaths became heavier and their moans grew louder. What had begun as a steady climb was now becoming something else. It wasn’t rushed or frantic or unpredictable. Just a quickening of Derick’s thrusts and the smooth retraction as he pulled out almost completely before driving back in. It was warm, easy, comforting.

  Siobhan felt herself get closer to release with every sharp jerk of Derick’s hips, and she urged him on, wrapping her legs around him tightly to get the friction she craved.

  She could see his muscles tensing, his neck flexing with the anticipation of the climax she knew they were both chasing. The noises escaping from Siobhan’s lips became louder, more erratic. And Derick groaned softly.

  Her nails clawed at his back as her fingers ran up his spine and back down to his firm ass. She couldn’t hold off much longer.

  Derick dropped his head to hers and let out a few soft curses against her ear. He told her how good it felt to be inside her, to have her to himself. And that was what did it. The tickle of his breath on her sensitive skin combined with the pull and push of his long cock had her tumbling over the edge, her body quivering below Derick’s as he continued to drive deep.

  As her orgasm began to subside, Derick found his own, his cock twitching sharply inside her as he let go. His hard thrusts became slow glides as he emptied himself.

  Derick pulled back to look at her and ran a thumb along her jaw. “I have something I want to show you tomorrow.”

  Chapter 21

  After sleeping in the next morning, Derick had a car pick them up. Other than saying he knew of a good diner that’d be a bit of a hike for them, he didn’t tell her much about where they were going.

  “I spy something blue,” he said, once they got in the car.

  Siobhan’s head jerked toward his. “What?”

  “I said,” he replied, drawing out the words, “I spy something blue.”

  Her lips quirked up into a smile as her eyes scanned the car. “The driver’s coat.”

  “You cheated.”

  A laugh burst out of Siobhan. “How can you cheat at I Spy?”

  “I’m not sure, but you clearly managed it.”

  “Whatever. It’s my turn.”

  Once the car came to a stop outside the city, Siobhan got out and asked, “Where are we exactly?”

  “Forest Hills,” he answered. Though he knew that didn’t mean much to her. She knew Brooklyn because she lived there, and was starting to become more familiar with Manhattan. But her knowledge of the other three boroughs was virtually nonexistent.

  He looked down the tree-lined street in the quiet Queens neighborhood trying to remember what it looked like the last time he’d been here. It had probably been at least seven or eight years. But other than a few trees that had been removed from a yard across the street, the neighborhood didn’t appear to have changed.

  Derick thanked the driver and, after confirming with Siobhan that she didn’t mind taking the train back to the city, he let him know that they wouldn’t be needing him anymore today.

  When the car pulled away, Derick put an arm around Siobhan, who looked in awe of the homes surrounding them. Derick couldn’t blame her. He remembered what it was like to be amazed by homes like this. They were beautiful. Large, brick or stone colonials full of so much character and charm that even the landscaping told a story.

  He threaded Siobhan’s fingers through his and drew her hand up to his lips for a quick kiss and then brought it back down, giving a gentle squeeze. “I want to share some things about my childhood with you. I think it’ll explain a lot about why I’m the way I am.”

  “Okay.” She looked curious, though somewhat tentative.

  “Starting with this house.” Derick nodded toward the three-story Tudor in front of them. Its plush green lawn was manicured to perfection, and the mature trees in the front yard cast shadows across the tan stucco in the late morning sun.

  “Is this where you grew up?”

  Derick gave her a small smile, one where his lips didn’t even part. “No, I grew up in Queens, but not this part.”

  Siobhan tucked her wavy hair behind one of her ears, looking confused. “Then whose house is this?”

  Derick breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of freshly cut grass. It was the one thing he couldn’t get in Manhattan, no matter how much money he had. “I have no idea.”

  Siobhan’s eyes narrowed.

  “It’s the house my mom always wanted. When my brother and I were growing up, she used to take us by here and tell us that one day she’d buy it for us. She loved the way the roofs wer
e angled and how those flowers bloomed every year.” He pointed to the bushes in front of the bay window. “She said we could make a treehouse in the backyard and that she’d plant a garden with tomatoes and peppers.”

  Siobhan looked up at him as he spoke, but she didn’t say anything.

  “It never happened though.” Derick dropped his head and dug the toe of his shoe into a patch of grass in one of the cracks in the sidewalk. “We knew it wouldn’t. Cole and me,” he clarified. “At least, we knew once we got a little older. Some of these houses were close to a million dollars even back then. But my mom always said if she worked hard enough, eventually she could give us the home—and the life—we deserved.”

  “That’s sweet. I think parents need to have dreams for their children. Even if those dreams never end up coming true.”

  “I guess so.” Derick nodded slowly and looked back up at the house. “She passed it every day on her way to work after she got off the bus. Walked right down this street and by the house that would never become her home.”

  “Where did she work?” Siobhan asked.

  “She cooked and cleaned for a family on the next block. The wife owned a boutique a few miles away, and the husband was a corporate lawyer in Manhattan. Had two boys right around our ages.” Derick shook his head, imagining what her job must have been like. “It was like watching a life she knew she’d probably never get to have.” Derick let go of Siobhan’s hand and put his hands in the pockets of his navy-and-white plaid shorts.

  “What about your dad?” Siobhan’s voice was hesitant, like she wasn’t sure whether she should be asking.

  But he liked that she did. “My father never did a damn thing for us. Best thing he ever did was leave. I haven’t seen him since I was three, and I don’t want to.” Derick rubbed a hand against the back of his neck. “My mom did everything on her own, and I never heard her complain. That’s why I swore that one day I’d make enough money to buy her this house, take care of her like she tried to take care of us. I just didn’t realize that when that day finally came, she wouldn’t be here to enjoy it.”