In the laundry room that separated the garage from the house, she slipped off her sneakers and finger combed her hair, hoping she didn’t look as exhausted as she felt. She didn’t want to show him any more weakness than she already had by falling asleep.
It wasn’t her fault she hadn’t been able to sleep for more than an hour without being jolted awake by some sound that terrified her. It was just the way things were right now, but not for much longer. Soon she’d have the money to take some computer classes, and then she’d find a job doing administrative work for someone who did fundraising, and eventually she’d be able to direct people with too much money towards the causes she believed in.
It had seemed so much better when she didn’t know her sister was an entrepreneur. Sleeping your way to security might not be altogether ethical, but it was damned effective.
Megan pushed open the door to the kitchen, smiling to herself as she took in the empty room. This was a beach house for the Knight family, so it wasn’t as done up as their home in Beverly Hills or as modern as Brandon’s penthouse. The russet-tinged paint gave the cool granite countertops a cozy feel, the butcher-block island holding the obligatory fruit bowl. The room was women’s-magazine perfect, but not designer. She’d always felt comfortable here, probably because over the years she and Brandon had managed to have sex in every room of the house. Usually while there was a party going on. He loved the thrill of being caught, got turned on by seeing her act as if nothing had happened.
It was probably those little thrills that had kept him interested for as long as he had been. As long as she stayed a fantasy, he could escape reality. Once she actually needed him, he wasn’t interested and started looking for his excitement elsewhere.
She hoped. It nauseated her to think he’d been sleeping with Gemma while they were together.
She carefully set her bag by the door and cleared her throat. Before she could call out to Brandon, the hollow sound of dog nails scrambling for purchase and tap dancing across the hardwoods thundered down the hall as he ran full bore into the kitchen. She knelt down in anticipation of Money, Brandon’s boxer.
He was there all right, trying to climb all over her, but Megan barely noticed. Her entire world had narrowed to one black bundle of fur. She caught Cash, the cockapoo Brandon had given her for her twenty-first birthday, as he leapt for her.
Every wall she’d built to keep herself moving forward crumbled in that instant. She was crying and laughing at the same time, Cash yipping his approval of her return to him. Megan felt every inch of her dog, forever a puppy, making sure he was as perfect as the day she’d left him with Kimberly. It took a while for the excitement of the reunion to calm enough for Megan to notice Brandon too had joined the fray, sitting across from her with Money stretched across his lap.
“Thank you.” She clutched her dog to her chest and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “It will be hell to give him back to Kimberly.”
Brandon leveled his gaze at her. “Kimberly didn’t have him.”
Megan knit her brow. “She gave him to you? But how did she know—”
“She left him at the kennel last month and headed to Paris. When your credit card was rejected they tried to call you, but you were having your cell-phone issue. They scanned the chip in his ear for another way to find you and found me instead.”
She rubbed the soft fur of Cash’s ear. “How?”
“I bought him, Megan.”
“For me.” She held him tighter, panic seizing her. He couldn’t possibly want her dog. It was too much, beyond anything else he’d already ripped from her. Her money, her hope, her pride were all his, but she wouldn’t let him separate her from the one thing that truly loved her back. Everyone else only cared for her as it suited them, present company included. She and Cash had a mutual admiration society since she’d first set eyes on him.
“Be glad I didn’t make a distinction between what was mine and what was yours. They might have sold him to someone who can take care of him.”
“I can take care of him.” She wiped at her eyes again, hating the tremor in her voice.
He reached out, laying a hand on her knee. She jerked away, wondering just what she’d do to keep the dog. Probably more than she’d do to actually be able to rewind time like she dreamed about.
“Relax, Meg. I’m not going to let anyone take Cash.”
She nodded and squeezed her eyes shut, immediately wishing tears hadn’t rolled down her cheeks. She clutched Cash tighter, but he’d had his fill and wriggled away. With reluctance, she let him go. He didn’t go far, just into the living room to return with his favorite ball. At least Kimberly had left his things with him when she’d abandoned him.
No, it wasn’t her fault. She had a life, one as lacking in responsibility as Megan’s had been. She couldn’t stay in town just because she had another dog to look after. God, life was unfair sometimes. Megan pulled her knees to her chest and gave herself a good squeeze.
Cash changed everything. It was one thing to surrender Brandon to Gemma Ryan, it was quite another to think of the tramp with her hands on her puppy too. Brandon had made his choice, and in the end she wasn’t surprised he couldn’t keep it in his pants. Hurt and wrecked and angry and devastated, sure.
Surprised, not so much.
She sat up straighter as her mind wove its way around a new plan, and a slow grin spread across her face. Curling up into a ball of depression and drowning in the quicksand of self-pity wasn’t an option. These were the cards she was dealt, and better to play them than fold.
The only way to win the game was to play. She’d judged Ava too harshly in her survival tactics. They’d worked out well for her, so Megan steadied herself to take a page out of her sisters’ playbook. After all, it was the only surefire way to get rid of Gemma Ryan once and for all.
Chapter Four
“Do you think I could take a bath? The tub upstairs is divine.” Megan stretched her arms over her head, her lush breasts pushing at the thin fabric of her T-shirt. “Of course, I don’t have anything to change into. Would you mind if I ran these clothes through the wash?”
Brandon grinned. Now this was his Megan. A sexy minx full of innuendo and ripe with sensual possibility. They’d once used the soaking tub upstairs so thoroughly she’d actually claimed she couldn’t get herself out.
He pushed up from the floor and stood, extending his hand to her. “Make yourself at home, babe.”
She slipped her hand in his and lust snapped around him like a whip as he pulled her up. She slid right into place, her body skimming his as she stood. He recognized the passionate promise in her gaze. Blood thrummed in his veins, anticipation simmering as her eyes met his.
Her shining blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders, the waves curling about her face. He lifted a finger to her cheek, tucking the loose waves behind one ear and then the other. She really was breathtakingly beautiful, with features fit for the most fairytale of princesses. Before he could think about the repercussions, he moved his hand to the nape of her neck and threaded his fingers in the warm, silken strands. He curled his hand around the back of her head to hold her still, because he couldn’t stand for her to turn away now. He lowered his head, hesitating for a split second before his lips found hers.
A bolt of sensation shot through him as the world faded into a whirling haze. With the kiss he tried to show her just how much he’d missed her, how much he hated that he had a hand in what had happened to her family. But as his body went from hot to blazing, he could only think of how long it had been since he’d had her naked.
He skimmed his hands across her soft skin, loving the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips. Her body had always screamed sex to him. He saw her and went hard at the promise of sizzling, wild, mind-blowing sex.
It took nothing but a look and he was ready for anything she had on offer. He moved his hands around to her bottom and pulled her closer, his erection pressing into her belly.
Megan’s hands p
ushed at his shoulders, breaking the kiss. She arched a brow and gave him a naughty smile. “I think I’ll take that bath now. Alone.”
“Are you sure?”
She gave a coquettish giggle and nodded. “I’ll let you know if I need help with anything, but I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
She stepped back into the laundry room and pulled her shirt over her head. The cream-colored lace edging on her black bra sent his pulse running. She tossed her shirt in the washer and started it up. She stretched for the detergent on the shelf over the machines, but couldn’t quite reach.
Thankful for a reason to get close to her again, he made his way into the small space and snagged the container. She gave him a smile as she added soap to the wash, but it was painted on, not genuine like before. He knew he’d pushed too far with the kiss. He just couldn’t help himself after so long without her.
“Megan, I know things between us are complicated right now, but—”
“We’ve always been very uncomplicated, Brandon. Pleasure for pleasure, no responsibilities, no awkward complications.” She undid her belt and slid it from the loops, then set it atop the dryer.
“It feels awkward right now.”
“That’s because we want different things.” She unfastened her jeans and slid them over her hips and down her legs. Her blue eyes sparkled as she grinned this time. “You want to take care of me, and I want to take care of myself.”
She was the queen of the double entendre. He couldn’t count the number of times she’d worked things into conversations at parties and events that had him ditching everything to be alone with her. He cleared his throat and fisted his hands for strength as she bent over to step out of her jeans. Her breasts were amazing, but when she leaned down they were delectable.
After tossing the jeans into the wash, she reached behind her for her bra clasp. Brandon swallowed hard, and wished for time to speed up. He ran his hand over the top of the dryer, his fingers playing with the soft leather of her belt.
“Do you remember that Labor Day party when we tested out the spin-cycle theory?” She shrugged off the bra and added it to the mix.
Brandon could only nod and pray she wanted a repeat performance. Though he didn’t remember it being one of their better moments, he’d settle for anything right about now.
“I think that’s what’s happened to us.” She hooked her fingers in her panties and pulled them down. She leaned over and he had to close his eyes. If he watched any more he’d be inside her within ten seconds with no preamble or permission. “We had fun for a while, but when it came down to it, the cycle ended.”
His eyes shot open and he wanted to disagree, but she’d already left the room. He scrambled out in time to watch her shapely bottom sway with each step up the stairs.
Megan made it all the way to the bathroom before her bravado cracked. Her hands shook as she turned the taps for the bath. She and Brandon spent most of their time together naked, but that was before she knew he was spending time that way with Gemma Ryan. Even the woman’s name made her shoulders tight. Gemma came from a family with money they didn’t earn, just as she had. The difference was that Gemma’s family still had both their money and their status, while she had neither.
Brandon loved money, evident by the names he’d given their dogs—though he claimed Cash was named after the man in black, she never actually believed him. She shouldn’t have been surprised when he found her dissolving liquidity a turn-off.
And Gemma had lots of boy toys, which meant she had lots of bedroom experience to dazzle Brandon with. Megan had only ever been with him, so if he hadn’t done it, neither had she. Maybe Gemma’s resume has been the attraction. He wanted someone who knew how to be wicked in ways she’d never even thought of.
Bile burned her throat at the thought of him and the leggy bottle blonde. Her stomach twisted and knotted as she opened drawers, telling herself it wasn’t to find evidence that he’d been here with someone else lately.
She braided her hair as she checked the room. Megan couldn’t find any evidence that he’d brought the tramp here, even her own bottle of almond bath oil was still tucked in a cabinet.
It was too bad she couldn’t find something to stoke her ire.
She was starting to doubt her ability to carry out her plan to seduce Brandon.
Not his willingness, she knew him well enough to know she could have had him on the washing machine long before the spin cycle. She didn’t know if she could have sex with someone she wasn’t in love with. She couldn’t love Brandon anymore, not after what he’d done to her father, and what he’d done with Gemma Ryan.
She poured some of the bath oil into the deep garden tub, the warm water activating the sweet almond scent. From the cabinet beside the shower, she grabbed a white towel and set it on the ledge beside the tub. Sliding into the warm water was the closest thing to heaven she’d experienced in months.
By the time the tub filled enough for her to turn off the taps, Megan realized that while she knew she couldn’t love Brandon anymore, she hadn’t exactly stopped. The water sloshed around her as she sank deeper, remembering how touched and sweet he’d been all those years ago after he realized a little too late that she was still a virgin.
The next weekend he’d declared a do-over and they’d made love slowly with dozens of candles flickering around his bedroom. Now that was a night to remember.
“I really hope you’re thinking about me.” His deep voice filled the room and warmed her from the inside, the way it always had. She didn’t even startle at the sound.
“I’m thinking this tub is as wonderful as I remembered.” She didn’t open her eyes, but noticed the room darken. He must have turned off the light.
“I remember a couple of amazing nights that started in this tub.” The water rippled around her, the movement feeling like a faraway caress.
Before she let herself get pulled under by the sensuality of the past, Megan opened her eyes. He’d taken off his shirt so he wore only his jeans as he crouched beside the tub. “Is that why you brought me here? You wanted to have sex and my apartment wasn’t doing it for you? Were you too afraid someone might see us at the penthouse?”
Brandon pulled his hand from the water as if it burned him. “I wasn’t the one who wanted our relationship to be a secret, Meg. That was all you.”
“You loved it though. The secrecy and sneaking around made it hot for you.” She met his gaze, hating the mocking stare he gave her.
“It was hot for you too. I am not the big bad wolf in this, and you are not an innocent little red riding hood. My mistake was in not pushing you to be honest with your family about us years ago. That’s where I went wrong.”
“Nope, that’s not it.” She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. Every time she thought of where things went wrong, her mind supplied her with a montage of images of Gemma Ryan plastered to his face. “We’ve seen how the media has picked apart the relationships of our friends. Keeping things private was the right choice. Can you imagine the press if they’d known about us when your little deal went down? It would have been absolutely brutal.”
“And this isn’t? I’ve spent two months thinking you’d chosen your father and the islands over me, and then I find out you never left, but couldn’t be bothered to even let anyone know that you’re all right? These last few weeks have been torture, knowing you were working yourself like crazy and that you’ve lumped all your anger over what happened on me.”
“I can’t absolve you of your guilt. You did a bad thing, a couple of them.”
“No, I—”
The water rippled as Megan raised her hand out of the water and held it up. “Stop making excuses for what happened. You had your reasons for blindsiding me. I’m never going to think they’re any good. And in light of what’s happened since, you don’t make a very strong case.”
He paced the bathroom and pushed his hands through his hair, creating a disheveled disarray that reminded her of wh
at he looked like in the morning. Her heart squeezed with longing to see him that way again. Her love for him wasn’t a switch she could flip or a dial she could turn down. He’d hurt her horribly, betrayed her completely, and yet her soul still held on to him as if he were the prince she’d always hoped he would become.
He turned to face her and put his hands on his hips. “What do I have to say to get you to see I didn’t do any of this to hurt you?”
“I never thought you did. You just didn’t think outside yourself enough to realize that it would.” She leaned forward and pulled the drain, the gurgling sound of the disappearing water filling the silence.
Megan both craved and hated what she was about to do. A part of her wanted to be with Brandon and feel alive and happy the way she used to, but another part hated the idea that by being with him she’d be bartering her body for the security he could provide. She wished she had more options, but it seemed options were the only thing she had less of than money.
She couldn’t leave without her dog, and she couldn’t take him with her. Animals weren’t allowed at her apartment complex and she couldn’t afford any place else. She was as trapped as Wendy from the coffee shop. When she found a way out of this, she’d also find a way for the Carlton Houses to accept pets. Her fundraising abilities had slipped since she’d become persona non grata with the charitable set, but it wouldn’t be like that forever. Now that she knew how desperate and trapped it felt, she’d do whatever it took to make pets an option for the women at the shelters.
Just like she’d do whatever she had to now to keep Brandon from his new lover, and keep herself with Cash. She hoped that someday the ends would justify the means.
As the water swirled down the drain with the remains of her stubborn pride, Megan pushed up and stood in the tub, letting the water sluice down her bare body. Even in the dim room, it caught Brandon’s attention immediately.
Private Scandal Page 5