Trusting the Billionaire (Weston Brothers Book 2)

by C. C. Snow

  “You’re not with him,” Troy growled again, his body still pumping out intense vibes.

  I looked Troy straight in the eye and used my semantics skills. “Jan was there for me at a time when I needed him.” I tilted my head to look at our second-floor apartment just as the light flicked on. Jan’s silhouette was visible as he stood watch over me and I felt affection fill me. He had offered me support without prying into my life. “I have come to care deeply about him.”

  I flicked my gaze back to Troy and a lump formed in my throat at the desolation and hopelessness in his face. “Troy, go home.”

  “Elle…”

  “Troy, it’s over between us.” Mentally bracing myself, I told the biggest lie of my life, “I don’t love you anymore. Please. If you care about me, let me go.” I clenched my jaw, fighting to hold his gaze, and as I saw the acceptance and resignation slowly enter his eyes, my heart started bleeding anew.

  His eyes moved over my face for long moments and he nodded. “Goodbye, Elle.” Then he turned around and walked away. Darkness swallowed his tall form and I lowered my head.

  “Goodbye, Troy.”

  Chapter 26

  Even as I opened the email, I knew she was manipulating me. The latest damnable subject line made my heart twist in my chest.

  Subject: To my sister

  Elle,

  Wherever you are, I hope you’re okay.

  As you can see from the subject line, I know we’re sisters. I’ve known since I was thirteen. I’ve just been too afraid to say anything and I’m sorry. I wish I had been braver so I could tell you how much you mean to me. You were a sister to me even before I found out about your mom and my dad.

  I want my sister back in my life and I’m mad you’re running again.

  Come home, Elle. I miss you.

  Your sister (in blood and in my heart),

  Gwen

  P.S.

  Elle, I understand why you negotiated for the ports. I know your loyalties were divided and you were trying to protect both Troy and me.

  P.S.S.

  Troy didn’t accept the ports. He said, “I only care about finding Elle.” I don’t know what happened between you guys, but he really loves you.

  I took a few gasping breaths, but they didn’t work and I buried my face in my pillow to hide my sobs of relief.

  The guilt strangling my heart loosened its grip for the first time in months.

  I felt like I had made a Sophie’s Choice when I made the call to Gwen, offering to let her save the company, but demanding she give up ownership of the shipping ports in Asia. I couldn’t let Troy take over the company and destroy my sister’s dreams, but neither could I cheat Troy’s family out of millions of dollars.

  I knew my tightrope act might ruin my relationships with two of the most important people in my life, but I had not anticipated the spectacular fallout. I had not expected Troy to find out before I had a chance to make a full confession. And I had not expected Carter to act so swiftly and vindictively. In hindsight, I should have sent him the fuck-off email on Monday at 11:59 am instead of Friday night after I hung up with Gwen.

  God. She knew we were sisters and instead of repudiating our relationship, she was embracing it. I laughed tearfully.

  I had a sister and our relationship was still salvageable.

  “Elle, don’t give up on us. I know I fucked up, but give me a second chance.”

  I shook my head, trying to expel those tantalizing words out of my head. “It’s too late. Too late,” I told myself.

  ***

  “Why don’t you come to Kalimpong with us?” Jan asked as he zipped up his equipment case.

  “Yes, it will be a nice break from the craziness of Kolkata,” Annabelle said. Jan’s girlfriend had arrived a few nights ago for a two-week long visit and the couple was headed to visit a Buddhist monastery to enjoy the quiet of the mountains.

  She was a tall, lean woman with dark blonde hair and a generous and forgiving nature. I had confessed to her that I kissed Jan as a ruse and she had brushed it off with a laugh. I doubted I could be as cavalier about a woman kissing—

  I shut down the thought before it could take shape.

  Shaking my head, I pointed to my camera. “Thanks for the invite, but I have to get back to work, especially since we have to leave India soon.” After the encounter with Troy last week, I had fallen into a slump and I was clawing my way out of it. Besides, I refused to be the third wheel on their romantic getaway.

  “Are you sure?” Annabelle asked, her eyes regarding me with concern behind her frameless glasses.

  “I’m positive. I already made plans to meet with Amala tomorrow.”

  With a nod of acceptance, she walked into their bedroom to finish packing.

  Tilting his head, Jan looked up at me and made a small humming sound.

  “What?” I asked.

  Pushing to his feet, he put his hands on my shoulders, his brown eyes assessing. “Elle, are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I said, pasting a smile on my face.

  He shot me a skeptical look. “I don’t want to stick my nose into your business, but it’s obvious you’re not happy.

  My eyes dropped under his knowing gaze. It was impossible to hide anything from his photographer’s eyes. After the confrontation with Troy, I had given Jan a bare bones version of what happened.

  “Look, based on what I saw the other night, I think you still have a lot of strong feelings for this guy. Are you sure you’re making the right decision?”

  Doubts had assailed me the moment I pretended to be with Jan to drive Troy away. And Gwen’s emails had only fed those doubts. The impulse to run after him, to tell him he was the only man I loved, was strong, but that was my foolish heart speaking. My head was in charge.

  I nodded, releasing a long sigh. “Yeah, it’s for the best. There have been too many lies between us and…” Unconsciously I raised my palm to massage the ache over my heart.

  He inclined his head solemnly and said, “I know you’re tired of hearing about my theories on art, but I’ll say it anyway. Art without risk is not worth doing. I’m sure you’re smart enough to draw the logical conclusion.”

  My heart gave a funny little sputter. For Jan, art was always a metaphor for life.

  He squeezed my shoulders in encouragement and bent down to pick up his duffel bag. “We better get going if we want to arrive before dark.” He called out in a louder voice, “Hon, you ready?”

  “Yup.” Annabelle walked out with her daypack.

  “We’ll see you on Monday,” Jan said.

  “Have a good time,” I said my mind grinding through his advice.

  With a wave, they exited, leaving me in the too-quiet apartment with my too-loud thoughts.

  Could I risk everything for Troy again? Life without him felt dampened, as if I were seeing everything through a thick veil. Through a lens. But if I opened my heart again…

  “I gotta get out of here,” I muttered to myself and stuffed my camera into my backpack. I started to walk into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge when I heard the rap on the door.

  Glancing at the table, I saw Jan’s keys and shook my head. “The only thing that man won’t forget is his camera.” Swiping them into my hands, I strode to the door, swung it open, and dangled them from my fingers. “Forget some—”

  “You said there’s nothing you wouldn’t forgive me for.” His voice sounded like it had been through a thresher.

  The floor tilted and the keys slid out of my slack fingers. I staggered back in shock. “Troy.”

  In daylight, I could see all the little details I had missed that night—the amber shine of his hair, the peacock blue-green of his eyes, the indent at the top of his lip. His normally healthy tan was gone, replaced by a sallowness that couldn’t be owed solely to the lack of sunlight in Chicago. Thick stubble covered his lower face. This was a man who looked like he had fought his way through hell.

  Ey
es locked on my face, he moved into the apartment and with a flick of his wrist, slammed the door shut. The ring of blue around his eyes seemed to glow with a fierce light.

  “Nothing. That’s what you said and I’m holding you to it,” he said, unyielding titanium underlying each word.

  My ability to talk fled as he stalked me like a tiger sighting his prey. With every step I took away from him, he shortened the distance with his longer legs. The back of my knee hit a chair and I changed direction, my eyes never leaving the dangerous creature in front of me.

  “You said you’d forgive me for cheating if I loved you enough never to do it again. How can you say that and not forgive me for being a stupid, blind fool?” he questioned, his tone quietly intent.

  My throat swelled with emotion at the wild, desperate look in his eyes. My leg bumped into the sofa and I bounced to the left, feeling like a pinball zinging around the living room.

  “I love you enough to forgive you for lying to me about your family. For lying about having no siblings.”

  My breath caught in my esophagus in a little trembling hitch.

  “I love you enough to forgive you for not trusting me.”

  My back hit a wall and my knees became jelly. I leaned into the smooth surface, glad to have something solid to support my weight. My damp palms flattened on the wall on either side of me.

  “I love you enough to forgive you for pretending to be with another man.”

  Skin stretched taut over his bones, Troy pressed his body into me and cupped my face, his fingers shaking, digging into my cheeks too tightly. His thumbs pressed into the soft underside of my jaw. Every cell in my body strained toward him, as if he were the north to my compass.

  “I love you enough to forgive you for lying about not loving me. How can you not forgive me for the simple sin of being an ass?” His eyes bored into me, into my soul. “Baby, please forgive me.”

  Oh God.

  Something huge shoved against my chest, frantic to get free.

  “I love you so damn much, baby. I can’t breathe without you.”

  I couldn’t either.

  “I don’t want to breathe without you. I know you don’t believe me now, but I will prove to you every single day of my life that I won’t hurt you again. Baby, we’re stronger than our past mistakes. Be brave for me. I need you.”

  Be brave. God, I wanted to be brave for him. For us.

  I didn’t know what my eyes were communicating, but gradually his hold gentled and a glint entered his eyes.

  “You said you wouldn’t take me back even if I signed over my fortune to you, but what if I’m willing to give up more than that?”

  His face swam as my eyes filled, but I didn’t dare blink.

  “Would you take me back if I traded in my scotch for bourbon?”

  Involuntarily my mouth twitched and the mischievous glimmer grew, turning him from gorgeous to irresistible.

  “Would you take me back if I promise you never have to listen to another banjo again?”

  My lips parted and a small, shaky huff pushed out. I felt that force surge harder, crashing against my ribs.

  “Now you’re really driving a hard bargain, but will you take me back if I promise never to steal another piece of pie from you again?”

  The dam inside me broke and I sobbed and laughed at the same time. My head bobbed madly as I whispered, “yes” over and over again.

  Relief burst into his eyes and then he slanted his head. There was hunger and forgiveness and hope in the kiss. But most of all, I tasted the sweetness of love. With a muffled cry, I wrapped my arms around his shoulder and pushed myself onto my toes, needing to feel every inch of him. The rich scent of his skin wafted into my nostrils, saturating my lungs.

  Fingers yanked at the rubber band in my hair, liberating the thick mass. Our tongues met. Dueling. Caressing. Savoring.

  He pulled away and blew out a breath. Then took my lips again. This time it was slow and unhurried, as if he were making love to my mouth. He sucked and licked every inch of my mouth and I felt every tug as if he were kissing me between my legs.

  His mouth glided to my chin. “I need to hear it, baby.”

  Protecting my heart had been a futile task because this man had held it the entire time. It had never been mine to guard. “I love you. I love you enough to trade in my bourbon for scotch.”

  He froze and made a low noise—halfway between a groan and a chuckle—into my skin.

  “I love you enough to listen to banjos and fiddles for an eternity.” I twisted my head to reach the hard line of his jaw and kissed him right below his ear. His stubble was coarse and prickly against my lips. I dotted a kiss on his lobe before whispering, “But if you ever steal my pie, I’m going to make you pay.”

  His body shook with laughter as he brought his lips to mine. I opened my mouth and it felt like he was feeding me joy and happiness. As the kiss turned solemn, Troy broke away and nestled his nose into my collarbone.

  “I’ve missed you so much, baby.” He inhaled unsteadily. “So goddamn much.”

  “I missed you too,” I choked, clutching his neck, my tears gushing.

  Lifting his head, he stared at my wet eyes and cheeks and wiped them gently with his thumbs.

  “Don’t cry, baby,” he said, his own voice clogged, and kissed my eyes tenderly. “We’re never going to be apart again.”

  He bent down and took my lips, this time with sensual intent, his tongue and teeth clearly projecting his intent. And I answered with equal fervor. The months without him were a time of famine and drought for my senses. I was starved for him, the solidness of his muscles, the soft-rough texture of his skin, the silkiness of his hair.

  And from the way he gripped too tightly, too urgently, I knew he felt the same.

  Reluctantly separating, I entwined our hands and tugged him toward my room. Sex against the wall sounded erotic as hell, but I wanted his body to blanket me until our very molecules merged.

  As soon as we stepped through the threshold, I had my hands on the bottom of his shirt, yanking it off.

  “You’ve lost weight,” I said with a small frown, fingers following the ridges of his ribs. He had always been sculpted, but now he looked like a fighter shedding weight for the fight of his life.

  He stroked my cheek, his eyes a deep blue. “The only things I have been able to do for the last two months are to look for you and to go to the gym.”

  I spanned my hands over his pecs. He felt like he was cut from granite. Feeling weepy at what I had put him through, I dropped my head onto his shoulder and kissed his clavicle. “I’m sorry.”

  A hand pushed under my fall of hair, grasping my nape. “No more sorrys. Let’s promise each other we’ll do everything possible to never have to say those words to each other again.”

  “I promise,” I murmured and planted another kiss on his neck. Opening my mouth, I lightly sucked at a patch of skin and Troy groaned. My hand slid down until I reached his erection, hard and urgent. My core answered with a release of moisture, eager to take him deep into my body.

  His hands clasped my waist and set me away from him, making me blink in surprise.

  “I’ve been dreaming about this for months. I don’t want to rush this, baby.” His eyes ran greedily over the length of my body, making my skin burn. He reached for the buttons on my sleeveless blouse and I lifted my hands to help. Wrapping his fingers gently around my wrists, he shook his head, his eyes imploring. “No. Let me take care of you. Let me touch and kiss you.”

  With a nod of acquiescence, I let my hands fall to my sides.

  His fingers started to undo my buttons, one by one. His chest expanded more deeply as more of my skin was revealed.

  When his knuckles brushed against my breasts, I couldn’t contain the small moan of need from escaping. My nipples beaded painfully in my bra, aching for his touch. He paused, his eyes on my tight peaks, but with a small shake of his head, he continued with his task, freeing each button with single-m
inded determination. As the last one came loose, he made a small sound of satisfaction and pushed my shirt down my arms until it floated to the floor.

  Dipping his head, he placed a kiss on one shoulder. Then the other. Then he grazed his lips along the slop of my torso, letting the tip of his tongue drag across my skin. My chest heaved as he nipped the patch of skin above my bra.

  “Troy,” I whispered, the note of need in my voice loud and clear.

  He reached behind me and unclasped my white cotton bra. With a few tugs, it too met the floor. With a twist of his neck, he covered my nipple with his hot mouth and sucked. I cried out and brought my hands to the muscled expanse of his back, holding him to me as he drew hard, then soft, then hard again on my flesh.

  He switched sides and my mind slid into a haze of pleasure. Just when I felt like I was on the verge of begging, he released my nipple and stood back, his eyes trailing from my face to my torso. My hands dropped back to my sides.

  I glanced down and flushed at seeing my full breasts, pouty and wet from his mouth. My eyes returned to him and I felt a fresh wave of arousal at the expression on his face. He looked like a man staring at his first meal after a forty-day fast. My eyes darted to his groin and at the sight of his cock straining the blue denim, I felt my sex pulse with hunger.

  “You’re so gorgeous. Every time I see you, you’re more beautiful,” he said hoarsely.

  Eyes following his hands, he raised his palms and ran them down my arms. Then up. My skin heated up with every pass until I felt feverish. There was a reverence in his touch that prompted me to be patient. To not rush this as he had requested.

  Instead I focused on the flex of his biceps and chest muscles as he moved his arms. “You’re the gorgeous one,” I said, watching his abs ripple.

  “I’m glad you think so, baby, because when we get home, we’re going to stay naked for a week…no a month.” He brought his hands to my breasts and circled both nipples with his thumbs. “Then I could make love to you whenever and wherever I want. I’ll fuck you hard and fast against the window or let you ride me nice and slow on the sofa, my cock staying in your tight pussy for hours.”