The Millionaire's Revenge

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The Millionaire's Revenge Page 8

by Wendy Byrne


  “Your twin used to live in Manhattan?”

  “Don’t know the whole story about how he ended up leaving, but he’s getting married in the spring. He’s actually been living in Iowa while helping his fiancée run an Italian restaurant.”

  She took a bite of hot dog. “What did he do before he moved?”

  “He worked for a land acquisition company that operated across the country. He was the deal maker, but gave it all up when he fell in love.”

  Luke could hide many things, but his skepticism about his brother’s impending marital status wasn’t one of them. After a disastrous childhood, he found it hard to believe in marriage or a happily ever after. And while he and Rafe didn’t agree on most things, he’d thought they’d reached a common bond in that neither one of them would ever get married. Who would want to take a chance, considering that kind of familial history?

  “That’s such a cool story.”

  She finished off her hot dog and took a sip of her drink before leaning her head against the back of the chair. The sun trailed a path across her face, highlighting its beauty. He was so comfortable around her—they had fun together, he could relax and be himself—and he grinned in spite of his pessimism.

  “I could sit here forever I think…except sooner or later the police would pick me up for vagrancy and then I’d be stuck in a cell with a woman named Bertha.” She laughed, the sound sending a warm wave of emotion down his spine. “And you know that never ends well.”

  Every time he was around her, he slipped farther and farther down the abyss to that place he didn’t want to be: wishing they could have a future. But instead of giving voice to his negative outlook, he changed the conversation as they finished off their lunch. “What is it you wanted to show me?” He grabbed her trash and his as they stood.

  “It’s a couple of blocks this way.” She pointed in the general direction of the river and trepidation stair-stepped up Luke’s spine. With close proximity to his building…he tried not to think about the possibility, but that was damn near impossible. Maybe something else—totally unrelated—had drawn her attention. He didn’t want to be confronted with his lost dream head-on.

  “I have the code to get in. We close on the building in less than a month.”

  Once she said the words, that sinking sensation weighed down his gut. This experience would be a test of his determination.

  Not five minutes later, they stood in front of the building that should and would be his. Being here and feeling that sense of why he wanted the place so badly overcame him in a rush. He clenched and unclenched his fists to dispel some of the anger that had pooled inside him. In that moment, he felt like that poor kid who people looked at with condescension, their expressions alternating between disdain and pity. This building was his FU to the world, to his childhood, to himself. And one man was trying to make sure that never happened.

  In contrast, Grace had a huge smile on her face, as if her victory was his defeat. But she didn’t know that—she had no idea he was behind LRM.

  “I found this building on a walk one day and encouraged Dad to buy it. He was against the idea initially and wasn’t keen on my ideas, but eventually, he worked with an architect to develop the most amazing plans. You really have to see them.”

  Luke ground his teeth together and tried not to react. Now he knew she had been the initiator of this fuck-over-Luke fiasco and it crushed him.

  “You’re awfully quiet.” She grabbed his hand, drawing him out of his downward spiral. But he wanted to stay rooted to the rage of his opponent playing dirty.

  He shrugged as nonchalantly as he could. “Hard for me to envision the concept.”

  “I imagine architectural stuff is not in your wheelhouse. But trust me, this place is going to be magnificent. My father has his shortcomings, but he’s the best at scooping up buildings and making them Manhattan landmarks—places people pay any price to live in.”

  Luke was pretty sure he’d be visiting a dentist after all the teeth grinding he’d been doing over the last week. Torn between wanting her to elaborate and knowing the surge of fury that would follow, he erred on the side of encouragement. “Tell me the plans, and I’ll get a better idea.”

  No way would the guy come close to replicating the masterpiece Luke had created in his drawings. He’d envisioned a lot of his buildings, but this one felt different. His ideas were so unique he still couldn’t believe he hadn’t secured the purchase with the blueprints he’d submitted.

  “We haven’t started work yet. There’s some kind of hold up with the city.” She didn’t even have the good sense to avoid looking at him when the lie spilled from her lips. Whitaker Development’s only roadblock was LRM, and he intended to keep it that way.

  Luke couldn’t believe his mistake in blaming Cyrus alone. After this revelation, it had become increasingly clear she was just as guilty.

  “Preserving the details of the period this building was built rather than bulldozing it gives so much more richness to the condos, don’t you think?”

  That wasn’t Cyrus’s normal modus operandi. It sounded suspiciously like… He couldn’t do anything but nod.

  “Picture lofts with exposed brick and ductwork, fireplaces, and two amazing penthouse units that have their own rooftop decks.”

  What the fuck?

  They’d stolen his plans, on top of stealing his building?

  His insides boiled until he thought his skin might peel back from pressure alone. Impotent rage. Only when his father smacked his mother had he been more furious.

  “I also convinced him to offer ten subsidized units. Affordable housing in New York is pretty much non-existent. Doing that would be a way to give back and seal the deal with the city as I know there were other bidders for the project.”

  Other bidders? Hell, he was the only other one and Cyrus knew… Wait a damn minute.

  His mind halted like it had slammed into a brick wall.

  “Subsidized?”

  Everything else in her plan sounded identical to his, except for the subsidized part. Profits would be cut in half, maybe more, which didn’t sound very Cyrus-like.

  “That’s what Garrett alluded to during the costume party the other week. I didn’t want to announce anything until the deal officially closed and was splashed all over the media.” Pride lit up her face. “People will be offered a lower price if they fall below the income guidelines. It would give working class people a chance to have a fresh start paying a portion of the total cost. Of course, those places won’t be quite as extravagant as the full price ones, but they’ll be comfortable and a nice place to call home.”

  “That was your idea?” He finally found his voice as he ran through the numbers in his head, coming up with very little profit for Whitaker Development. Something didn’t add up….unless….Grace wasn’t like her father at all.

  She nodded. “I studied the homeless population when I was working on my master’s dissertation at Harvard and it became a passion of mine, as you might have guessed, based on the charity event. I wanted to marry the idea of permanent housing with a great new development that included the haves as well as the have-nots.”

  “From what you’ve told me about your dad, I’m surprised he went along with your idea.”

  “I’m shocked my father went along with it, too. He hates my involvement in the charity, which is why I try to keep a low profile. He’s of the ‘pull themselves up by their bootstraps’ mentality.” She shook her head. “I guess he occasionally listens to his business consultant. What do you think?”

  “It’s not what I expected when you told me you wanted to show me something.”

  “I know. It’s weird that a building gets me so excited.” She huffed out a breath. “It kind of speaks to my soul, if you can understand that.”

  Luke nodded. “I understand perfectly.”

  The sooner they got out of there, the quicker he could get in contact with Sal and ask him what he’d heard about the subsidized units and dis
cover in whose pocket the ten grand he’d found in Grace’s drawer would land.

  And to find out, he’d pull out all the stops. Ethics be damned. Two could play this game.

  “I’ve got a great ending to this day.” She grabbed his hand. “But it’s a surprise.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Grace felt like an ass. Not an oh-I-made-a-faux-pas ass, but a big honking ass. Luke had come over to help cure her hangover after being subjected to all manner of female craziness the night before, then she dragged him to a lingerie store, despite the fact they hadn’t gotten to that part of their relationship, then they’d had that awkward thing with her father, and then she’d forced him to ooh and ahh over a pet project of hers he clearly had no interest in.

  Somewhere along her path of pure self-indulgence and silly tests, she finally remembered her gift from Garrett.

  Taking him here felt like the right thing to do. She wanted to bring back the carefree, fun-loving Luke she’d grown to…lo…no, not that L-word…expect. Yes, that was the word she was searching for.

  “You’re not going to tell me where we’re going?” he asked as they entered the cab.

  She rattled off the address rather than the name. “Nope. It’s a surprise.”

  “Does it involve nakedness?” Although a grin spread slowly across his face, she spotted a hint of reluctance as well.

  “It might.” She hated playing the coy role, but she wanted to get him to relax. Although he tried to hide it, she sensed the tension in his tight jaw.

  “You mention the word naked to a guy and we’re there.” He nuzzled her neck. Tingles shot from head to toe. Ever since the near miss at her place last week, he did everything he could to stay in physical contact with her, providing they were in public. Once they were alone, he backed off.

  “Just a couple more blocks, and your curiosity will be put to rest.” This felt so weird not telling him what she was up to, but guys liked intrigue didn’t they? “It’s sexy and fun.”

  “Nakedness and sexy. I think I’m going to like this.” Even though she could tell his heart wasn’t in his words by the distracted look in his eye, he helped her out of the cab and studied the sign outside. That slightly spicy smell she’d come to know as Luke tickled her nose, and she snuggled against him to block the wind that picked up as the sun started to set.

  She stopped in front of the doorway and, for once, took the initiative and kissed him, letting her tongue slide into his mouth. His arms went around her waist, snuggling her closer. It was like something in him unlocked. Loosened. Everything about him felt so right, so amazing. The part of her that dreaded the eventual tumble into reality was getting smaller and smaller. Luke might be everything she imagined.

  “This is the place?” He glanced at the door, his eyebrows furrowing. “The Cave?”

  “Trust me on this.” She grabbed his hand and walked inside the door.

  …

  Luke glanced around, taking in the dimly lit surroundings, the soft music playing in the background, and an uneasiness began to take over.

  “What is this place?” Backpedalling. That’s all he could think about at the moment. Well, that and getting the hell out of there. This had all the makings of a place that tortured guys with hot wax on their balls.

  “Pampering. I took the liberty of booking a couples appointment while I was in the dressing room earlier.” She looked at him with those innocent and sexy eyes that tried to convince him this wasn’t about pain and torture.

  “Pampering?” So that’s what she called it? He called it a get-the-hell-out-of-Dodge moment.

  “It will be fun, don’t you think?”

  “Fun?” He could barely get the word out of his mouth as he searched for an escape route. “I…” Nothing seemed to come to mind as an excuse.

  “What’s the matter? You seem anxious.” She studied him like he was on an examination table.

  He shook his head. Bad visual. Definitely needed to block that from his mind. Maybe he should take one for the team. But then the visual of the hot wax sprung to his mind and his dick shriveled.

  A woman stepped out from in back. “Grace. It’s so good to see you. We’re all set for the two of you.”

  He started to back for the door, but she grabbed his hand. “We’ll be in the same room. It will be fun.”

  He steeled himself as he followed the woman down the darkened hall into a room. “Take your clothes off and put on this robe. I’ll come get you in a few minutes and bring you to the couples’ room.”

  Although he searched for a plan to get out of this, he couldn’t think of a single one. Finally, he managed to croak out, “Does it hurt?”

  The woman laughed. Sadistic bunch at this place. Without a word, she walked out the door.

  Luke ripped off his shirt and paced the room. How badly did he want this? Pretty damn bad. First things first, he fired off a text to Sal about the subsidized units being part of the contract and asked him to monitor any suspicious activity with either Gage or anyone else at the city.

  Then he focused on the imminent emergency and did a quick Google search on his phone to see what he was in for, which only confirmed what he’d already imagined. The whole experience hurt like hell.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  Payback. It was his damn fault for playing with Grace. He’d made his bed, now he had to lie in it, as dear old Dad used to say. Crap. Thinking of his father only made the situation worse. Maybe he could have an emergency client call. If it were closer to April 15th he might be able to get away with—

  “Luke? Are you almost ready?” Grace’s voice filtered through from outside as she knocked.

  He was so screwed. No escape route now, short of blowing the whole boyfriend thing. He kicked off his pants and slipped on the robe. He’d keep on his boxers in case there was a stay of execution.

  Maybe they could have a sudden fire in the building. He should have thought of that earlier and thrown a match into the wastebasket. Instead he opened the door and tried to smile.

  “We’re so lucky. You have Henri. He has dancing fingers. I swear he’s the best in the business.”

  A man dancing his fingers over him? Was that before or after the hot wax? For the second time, words failed him. As they walked down the hall he felt like he was marching to the execution chamber. Geez, he sounded like a chick.

  “Take off your robes and lay down on the table.”

  He managed to focus on the room and everything inside it. Contrary to the picture in his mind, he spotted two massage beds in the center of the room. As relief washed over him, Grace slipped off her robe, placing her crisscrossed arms in front of her naked chest before she laid down and pulled the sheet up her back. A tiny red thong covered her bottom—he couldn’t help but notice.

  He grabbed her robe, hanging it on the hook followed by his own, and laid down in the bed next to her. She linked her fingers with his.

  “Are you still nervous?”

  He started to laugh, somewhat surprised when the words spilled out. “I thought when you said pampering you meant something else entirely—female-type things that I’m not sure about—that have something to do with hot wax and pain. I get there’s pressure on women to get sensitive parts of their body hair-free, but thinking about it makes me shudder. A guy’s gotta draw the line somewhere with this metrosexual thing.”

  “You thought…”A bubble of laughter burst through her lips. And once she started she couldn’t stop. Within moments tears were running down her cheeks. “A couple’s waxing…” Her voice trailed off as if there wasn’t such a thing. Now that he thought about the idea, it didn’t sound like a spa would get many takers for that experience. “That would be over-sharing to the max.”

  He shrugged and tried not to focus on the way the nipple on her left breast peeked from beneath the sheet. “I have an active imagination when it comes to worries about my manly parts.”

  She hiccupped. “I’m sorry. I…was…I didn’t expect you to get hair-free f
or me because…well…that’s kind of crazy.”

  “Why did you make me believe there was hot wax and pain involved?”

  “I never said anything about hot wax. Do the words overactive imagination ring a bell?” Her smile was infectious as her eyes crinkled up in the corners simultaneously.

  “Talking about that kind of shit is enough to give a guy a limp dick syndrome.”

  “Is that a medical condition?”

  “If it isn’t, it should be. You get hot wax anywhere near mine and I’ll be scared straight for life.”

  He linked his fingers with hers as two masseuses came into the room. Laying here with Grace felt right. Did that mean he was getting closer to cracking through her barriers, or did it mean something about his own barriers?

  Something was happening inside him, and he wasn’t sure he liked how much he enjoyed being with her.

  For the entire time they lay on the table, fingers intertwined like lovestruck teenagers and getting de-stressed, he didn’t for one moment think about the Hudson River Project, her father, or even revenge.

  How could she be related to her father, but not like him in so many ways? He couldn’t reconcile what he now knew about her with what he’d anticipated from the start. It was all mixed up and jumbled in his head, and nothing made any kind of sense.

  After their massages, they got dressed and met back at the front desk. “Thanks for the massage, but you didn’t have to do that. I actually had a good time last night. Nothing like body-guarding a bunch of drunken debutantes to keep a guy on his toes.”

  “But today you came to my rescue again with your concoction of tomato juice and bath elixir.”

  “Okay, I’ll admit it, I’m your knight in shining armor.”

  “Let’s not get carried away. I’m sure you have some secrets I’ve yet to figure out.”

  He gulped back a dose of guilt as he hailed a cab and opened the door for her. Before helping her inside he gave her a quick kiss. “Thanks again.”

 

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