by Coleen Kwan
His voice rose to a roar on the final question, but she didn’t flinch. She stood her ground, her face white. “It—it’s a possibility.”
He shook his head, a red haze clouding his vision. “I don’t fucking believe it.”
The muscles in his arms shook with the urge to smash something. He strode over to the window, flung open the curtains, and stared out at the darkness, fighting the impulse. He didn’t know how long he stood there struggling, but then he heard her voice from close behind him.
“You came back to San Francisco to make peace with your father,” she said, her voice low and trembling. “I saw him tonight. He looks like a hard man to please, a bit like my dad. He’s also not well, and you want to win the Halifax Hotel for him. I understand that.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. I want to win because it would mean the world to my dad. And because it would make people see that I’m serious about my career at Rochesters, that I’m not just a lightweight airhead.”
He flexed his fists, feeling the anger burn inside him like corrosive acid. “That’s nice, Holly. But you don’t understand my position.”
“Then tell me. Make me understand. Please.”
He kept his gaze on the ribbons of light ringing the bay foreshore in the distance. “I remember going with my mom to Sausalito. We sat on the beach and had ice cream. We couldn’t go far because she was too weak. That was our last outing, two weeks before she died.” He kneaded a hand over his aching chest. “A few days before she died, she was in bed, lucid for a change, and she took my hand and made me promise that, whatever my dad did, I would always try my best to reconcile with him. Then she died, and things got worse. As soon as I turned eighteen I left home. I think my dad was glad to see the back of me, and Eric definitely was.
“So I was out on my own. Slept on the streets some nights. Somehow I ended up in Texas, and I built a new life from scratch. But I never forgot the promise I made to my mom. I sent my dad postcards regularly, at least twice a year. He never replied or gave me any encouragement to return. Until a month ago. Amazing what a bit of mortality can do to an old man. But of course he’s not giving me a free ride. What my father values above all else is winning. I have to prove I’m worthy of the Schofield name before he’ll allow me fully into the fold. I don’t care about that, but I do care about honoring the promise I made to my mom.”
Silence fell. Then he heard Holly drawing in a shaky breath. “I thought it might be something like that.”
He turned around to face her. “There’s more. My sister Saffron. She’s only fifteen. If my dad dies, Eric becomes her guardian and trustee. I can’t let that happen.”
“I see.” She passed a hand over her mouth, and when she dropped it her chin was quivering. “Oh, Dane. You’ve just given me two compelling reasons why you’d do anything to win the Halifax.”
He stiffened. “You think I’d honor my mother by stooping to dirty tricks?” The acid in his stomach rose. He wanted to throw up. “If that’s what you really think, then you don’t know me at all.” He pushed past her and headed for the exit.
His hand was on the doorknob when she cried out, “Wait!”
The next second her body slammed into his back as she launched herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck.
“Don’t go! Please.”
He choked up, and not because of her stranglehold on his neck. Turning, he gripped her arms.
“Holly—”
“Don’t go. I’m confused and upset, but I want you to stay. Please, Dane.”
He scowled down at her. By rights he should pull himself free and get out of there. But her eyes were glimmering, and her body was shaking against his, and he didn’t have the strength to resist.
He pushed his fingers through the fine, pale silk of her hair. “You want me to stay?” His voice was a suppressed growl in the base of his throat.
“Yes. Please.”
Something burst inside him, like the snapping of chains. Gripping her hair, he bent down and ravaged her mouth with his. After the first startled gasp, she responded, her fire almost keeping pace with him. It wasn’t enough. He dragged his lips down her neck and bit her shoulder, causing her to start.
“Still want me to stay?” he muttered as he rasped his jaw against her smooth skin.
“Y—yes.” Her voice hitched.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
He grabbed the edge of her T-shirt in both hands and tore it off. She was bra-less underneath. He cupped a breast, drew the nipple into his mouth, sucked until she was arching her back and digging her nails into his shoulders. Tucking his fingers into the waistband of her sweatpants, he shoved them down. She was still wearing the lace thong he’d encountered earlier that night. She started to pull it down, but he stopped her, and ripped it off himself.
She stood naked in front of him, panting slightly, her delicate ribcage rising and falling. He was already hard as granite and in no mood to play nice. He unbuckled his belt, slid down his zipper. As his rigid cock sprang free, she started to get down on her knees.
“No.” He drew her upright.
She licked her wet lips. “But…I thought it’s time to pay my tab.”
As much as he wanted her to suck him off, it was too passive for his howling mood. He found a condom and sheathed himself, and then he pressed her up against the door, hands and mouth roving over her, one leg grinding between her thighs. She kissed him back, writhing and desperate. When she was wet through, he lifted her up and sank himself into her heat. And then he lost track of everything except for the fever between them, the itch that could never be satisfied, the play of emotions on her face as he pounded into her until she cried out, and his own sharp climax exploded.
Afterward, he held her as she collapsed into his arms, and his conscience prickled as reality returned.
“Holly.” Damn, he’d hurt her. He lifted her up in his arms. “Babe, was I too rough?” Shit. He was such an ape.
Her smudged eyelashes flickered open. She gave him a bleary smile. “In the best way possible…”
Cradling her to his chest, he carried her into the bedroom and laid her down on the pillows.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked as he smoothed her tangled hair away from her brow.
She caught his wrist, blue eyes widening. “You’re staying, right?”
“Yeah.” He couldn’t leave her. Even though she’d basically accused him of sabotage, he couldn’t drag himself away. He eased down next to her and tucked her into his side, splaying an arm over her.
“Tomorrow, we need to talk,” she murmured.
“Do we?” He thought he’d talked too much already. All that stuff about his mom. He hadn’t told that to anyone. Ever. Now Holly knew, and it made him feel squirmy inside.
“Okay, maybe we don’t.”
She drew her fingers over his chest, tracing the outline of his phoenix tattoo. Then she replaced her fingers with her lips. A few seconds later, he was surprised at the lust flaring up again so quickly. As if sensing it, she rolled on top of him and began to lick him.
“I think it’s time to pay off my tab,” she murmured, a wicked grin tilting her lips.
His groin started to throb. Sweet Jesus, he was a slave to her. Later he might regret this, but right now all he could do was obey. His blood thrummed as he sat up to watch her.
***
Bright sunlight pricked Holly’s eyelids, waking her from sleep. She yawned and stretched, wondering why parts of her body ached so much. Of course. Dane. Smiling, she rolled over to face the pillow next to her. The empty indent caused her heart to dip. He wasn’t here.
Well, of course he wasn’t here, she told herself as she sat up and blearily checked the time. Eight-thirty. Way past her usual wakeup time. Being a Saturday, people in her building would be bustling in and out, on their way to the market, the coffee shop, or the park. Dane had left early to spare her the complication of anyone seeing him. That’s all.
But why hadn’t he woken her to say goodbye?
Ugh. That was the kind of question a woman would ask her boyfriend. Dane was not her boyfriend, and they were not in a relationship. The only reason they saw each other was because they were too horny to keep their hands off each other. That was all. They both knew there was no future, not even a short term one.
As she rose to her feet and shrugged into a silk bathrobe, her thoughts drifted back to their tense conversation last night before the sex. Her accusation, his rebuttal. And then his account about his mother. She had to admit it had made her choke up. Dane had brushed over the details, but his father must have been awful to him to make him leave home at eighteen and travel clear across the country to get away from his family. How lonely and hard that must have been. And then, despite all the rebuffs, to come home again, yet still be expected to pass a final test before his father would accept him. That was really difficult to swallow. Plus, he now had a sister to worry about.
If only he hadn’t left so early; he might have opened up a little more. Maybe she’d call him, suggest they meet for lunch or coffee—No, she couldn’t do that. Hadn’t she just told herself they weren’t in a relationship? She shook her head. Honestly, she needed a strong cup of coffee to pull her back to reality.
Tightening the belt of her bathrobe, she walked out of her bedroom. For an heiress to a fortune, her apartment, though in a prized location, was on the modest size. Her galley kitchen was just a few steps down the hall. She had almost reached it when a slight noise from the adjacent living room caught her attention. Her bare feet made no sound as she padded to the open doorway.
She stopped short. Dane was in the living room, crouched down on the other side of the coffee table. He was fully dressed, his dark head lowered as he studied something in his hands which she couldn’t see from this angle. A peculiar feeling wormed in her stomach.
“Morning,” she murmured.
He started and jerked to his feet, a faint blush passing over his high cheekbones. Her gaze fell on the familiar blue document in his hands.
Her design proposal for the Halifax Hotel, and the details of the financial bid.
Ice ran through her veins.
“What are you doing with that?” Her voice sounded strange to her ears, high and shaky.
He placed the document on the coffee table. “I sat down to put on my boots, and I saw it lying under the couch. It was open when I pulled it out.”
“I see. And you just couldn’t resist reading through it, huh?”
His jaw compressed. “I glanced through it, that’s all.”
“That’s all?” Her voice was shaking even more, and she couldn’t seem to control it or the trembling taking hold of her body.
He took a step toward her. “Babe—”
“Don’t ‘babe’ me.” She retreated a step.
A deep frown darkened his brow. “Not this shit again. You think I read your entire proposal so I’d be able to outbid you? Is that what you think?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what to think. But the fact is, you’ve accessed confidential information behind my back. What were you planning to do? Photograph the pages with your cell phone? Lucky I woke up when I did because you were very quiet getting out of bed this morning, weren’t you?”
“Oh, for crying out loud.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, revealing eyes that were dark and wild. “And I suppose in your paranoid mind I engineered the whole thing. I came over last night, saw the document there, and then fucked you so I could get hold of it.”
She flinched at his deliberate crudeness. Wasn’t that what the last asshole she’d dated done to her, too? He was only with her for what he could get out of her. At the time she’d vowed never to put herself in the same position, and yet here she was. Only, this time, the hurt was depthless, the consequences far more damaging.
“I wouldn’t put it past you.” The barriers were rising again, higher than before. She lifted her chin. “You’re your father’s son, after all.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw, and she knew she’d found a mark.
“And you’re as warped and prejudiced as your father,” he ground out. “I wouldn’t bother submitting that.” He flicked a hand at the document on the table, the corner of his lip lifting. “It doesn’t stand a chance. Not against mine.”
She gritted her teeth. “I’ll let the Gilberts decide that.”
She felt like she’d swallowed a razor.
He stalked toward her, and she fell back, shrinking away as he passed. At the door he paused and turned. A pulse ticked in his temple, and his face was a strange, pasty gray color.
“Holly,” he started to say, but then he paused.
Part of her was screaming for him to go before she collapsed. But part of her longed for him to grab her and kiss her and carry her back to bed where the rest of the world didn’t matter.
She scowled. Only her anger was keeping her upright. “What?” she croaked, her throat raw.
“It doesn’t have to be like this. In almost every situation there is a choice, and you get to decide. I want you to know this.”
Her insides were collapsing like wet sand. She couldn’t take this for much longer.
She forced a smirk to her lips. “Are you writing self-help books now? Thanks, but I’m good.”
He gazed intently at her as if he were trying to memorize her face. Then he turned and left, shutting the door quietly behind him.
Chapter Eleven
“Hi, Holly. Good to see you again.”
“Morning, Chad.”
Stepping out of the elevator, Holly pasted on a smile that felt as brittle as her bones. Chad Litchfield didn’t seem to notice, perhaps because the sixteenth floor of the Halifax was abuzz with activity.
“Everyone’s here already,” he said.
“So I see.”
She’d deliberately showed up late at the hotel with the aim of avoiding being alone with Dane. Seemed her plan had worked.
“That reporter’s here, making a nuisance of himself.”
Holly made a non committal reply. She wasn’t interested in anything except getting out of here as quickly as possible.
“Well, it’s all over now,” Chad said. “Bids are in, nothing we can do except wait for the verdict.”
And suffer more endless days and nights of torture. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to confess to her father and brother that Dane had seen their bid and how she’d let that happen. Couldn’t bear to see their incredulity, dismay, and disappointment. So, after a weekend of self-flagellation, this Monday morning she’d sent off the bid by courier. Now, she and the rest of the contestants were back at the Halifax to dismantle their suites, as instructed by the Gilberts.
“Are you okay?” Chad asked as he walked with her down the corridor. “You look like you didn’t get much sleep.”
Make that zero sleep all weekend. She’d spent two days pacing her apartment, tossing in her bed, and avoiding friends and family. Today, she’d had to fortify herself with three cups of strong, black coffee before she could make it to the Halifax.
She lifted her shoulders. “I’m fine, thanks.”
At that moment Dane stepped out of his suite. The sight of him made her heart seize up, causing her to stumble.
Chad grabbed her elbow. “Hey, are you sure you’re up to this?”
Studiously avoiding Dane’s eyes, she straightened herself and smiled at Chad. “Thanks, I’m sure.”
She brushed past Dane without looking at him, her nerves juddering at the proximity. It might have been her imagination, but she sensed him inhaling as she passed him. Afraid she’d somehow give herself away, she hurried to her suite and slipped inside.
She shut the door and leaned against it. Her stomach was roiling, and the back of her neck was clammy. She glanced down at her unsteady hands, noting the ragged fingernails she’d chewed to the quick. Seeing Dane again had been worse than she’d anticipated. She couldn’t even look him in the eye
for fear of coming part.
It would get better, she told herself. After today there was just the Gilberts’ cocktail party to get through, and then once the competition was over, she need never see him again. She could get on with her life. The pain would fade with time, though she would never trust another man.
One step at a time. Her immediate priority was to clear the suite. In her eagerness to avoid Dane, she hadn’t left herself much time for this task. The movers were arriving soon to cart away the furniture, and her dad’s art installer would take care of his paintings. But first she had to pack all the soft furnishings. She dumped her purse on a nearby console table and waited a full minute before cautiously opening the door. The hallway appeared deserted, so she walked out and headed for the utility room to grab some storage boxes.
Reaching the utility room at the end of the corridor, she pushed open the door. Only to freeze when she spotted Dane bending down to pick up a few cartons. The back of his T-shirt had ridden up, revealing a band of smooth, hard muscle around his waist. She sucked in an audible breath. He rose and turned, his frosty green eyes spearing into her. His face was like granite, except for the muscle flexing in his jaw as he gritted his teeth.
The churning in her stomach ratcheted up. What had he done after reading her bid? She didn’t want to believe he’d used the information. That wasn’t the man she’d come to know, but then again, she’d only met him a few weeks ago.
She moistened her chapped lips. After a weekend of soul-searching, she was no clearer to an answer, but the way his presence affected her told her one thing—forgetting him would be impossible.
“Dane—”
Before she could say anything further, the door banged open behind her. The reporter stuck his head in.
“Oh, sorry,” Pete’s oily voice rang out. “Didn’t realize there was such a crowd in here. Any space for one more?”