Betrayal (Secrets, Lies, and Deception Book 2)

by Heather Walsh

  He kissed her again, so softly. “I’m not your hero, Kat. I’m just a man who’s madly in love with you. One who’s made so many damn mistakes where you’re concerned. But I’m asking for your forgiveness. Asking you to give us a chance.”

  Ethan moved his hand into her hair, gently bringing her forward, increasing the pressure of his lips until she opened her mouth beneath his, his tongue sliding against hers. And it was impossible not to fall under Ethan’s spell again when he was saying all the things she’d always wanted to hear, when his tongue slid against hers in a slow sensuous dance. Just like last night when she’d been so seduced by his words, by his touch, unable to push him away.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Holy fuck.”

  Alex’s hiss came through Stephen’s earpiece, mirroring his thoughts exactly. He sucked in a breath, trying to convince himself not to run across the street and rip Ethan’s hands from Kat’s body as they stepped out of the limo. The media covering the senator’s event was immediately whipped into a frenzy as recognition dawned, the relentless explosion of camera flashes dogging Kat and Ethan’s every step, clamoring around them, desperate to get that perfect photograph.

  And there it was. The million-dollar shot. The shot that would headline the eleven o’clock news. Be plastered on the front page of every single newspaper tomorrow. Kat and Ethan, turning toward the cameras, posing as if they were royalty. Brighter than a thousand flashes, Kat’s beautiful smile lit up the night. Ethan held her close to his body, an unmistakably possessive arm around her, his hand on her waist, claiming Kat as his for the world to see.

  Jesus, she was stunning. So incredibly fucking sexy.

  “Stephen,” Xavier snapped in his earpiece.

  “What?” he snapped back, freezing mid-step. He was supposed to be covering Kat from afar, not thinking of ways to kill her date. Turning, he headed halfway down the block, entering the event through the parking garage.

  “Take the stairs. Third floor terrace is dark enough to blend in.”

  That from Alex, who was covering the back entrance, aka the employee entrance. Xavier was covering the senator.

  The third-floor bar was chic and modern, blue lights casting a glow over the dancers, packed nearly shoulder to shoulder. A live band along the east wall belted out a song by Coldplay, one of Kat’s favorite bands. This crowd was younger, mid-twenties to late-thirties while the senator’s more conservative supporters were two stories below.

  Which is currently where the senator was, according to Xavier. Stephen wound his way through the crowd and stepped out onto the terrace. He grabbed a glass of wine from a passing waiter, but didn’t drink it. A few fire pits made centerpieces for seating areas, adding heat to the already warm night. The Albany skyline stretched before him, but the beauty of it was lost on him. He looked for an empty corner where he could still keep an eye on the bar, feeling like the worst kind of voyeur, knowing he should have told Kat he’d be here tonight.

  Too late now. If he stayed hidden, she’d never have to know, but the chances of that happening? Slim to none. Pretending to sip his wine, he watched the entrance to the inside bar, spotting Kat and Ethan as soon as they came through.

  “They’re here,” he mumbled for Alex and Xavier’s sake.

  “So is Mark Prescott,” Xavier said. Their goals for the night were simple. Xavier’s job was keeping an eye on the senator and Mark Prescott, see who they spoke to. And after the party, follow Mark Prescott and never let him out of his sight. Because hopefully, Mark would lead them right back to Matthew Harrington. Anticipation hummed in his veins. This could be it, the end of his hell.

  ***

  Ethan twirled her on the dance floor, his warm hand on the small of her back, sending shivers up her spine. Her cheeks ached from smiling, losing herself in the fun, the excitement of the political fundraiser completely unexpected. She’d expected a string quartet playing softly in a corner somewhere, an elegantly stuffy atmosphere. Maybe an older distinguished crowd discussing the latest political agenda. Something, she admitted, she knew nothing about.

  Instead, the bar felt like a smaller version of Jen’s club, the only difference being the state of dress. Men in tuxedos and women in elegant gowns filled every space, some gowns more revealing than others, yet all of them classy. The pulsing beat of the music surrounded them, making it impossible not to get caught up in it all.

  Impossible not to get caught up in Ethan. In the feel of his hands on her, which hadn’t left her once for the hour and a half they’d been there. At the passion and devotion that lit up his entire face. As if she was the only woman in the room. She felt loved. Adored. Cherished.

  She felt like a princess.

  And who’s your prince?

  The thought slithered through her mind, but she shoved it away.

  Forcefully.

  As the song ended, the lead singer announced that the senator was on his way up. Applause filled the room. Kat checked her phone when it buzzed in her clutch, following Ethan off the dance floor. It wasn’t the text she’d been waiting for.

  A picture of her and Ethan filled the small screen, taken only hours ago when they arrived. It must have already hit the airwaves. Jen’s words followed a second later.

  Holy shit, you two look hot!

  Kat laughed. Ethan turned the phone toward him, his answering smile beautiful. “We look perfect together,” he said in her ear before kissing her softly on the lips, the heat sending another shiver through her.

  Did they? Her black hair contrasted sharply with Ethan’s blonde, her small body fitting perfectly in his bigger one. Sipping what she promised was her last glass of champagne when Ethan handed her a glass, Kat smiled up at him. She tucked her phone away before Jen had the opportunity to send more texts. Ones she may not want Ethan to see.

  Just like at the ski house, Senator John Harrington was given a short introduction by Mark Prescott, appearing on the stage seconds later. His charismatic smile filled the room. His gray hair took on a blue tinge from the lighting for a second before the color changed, a spotlight now aiming directly at him. But Kat was too preoccupied with Ethan’s hand running up and down her bare back and ignored the senator’s spiel as he rehashed his previous accomplishments, listing all the wonderful things he’d done for New York State, all the wonderful things he still needed to do. Blah, blah, blah, she thought.

  Clutching her glass, she glanced around the room. And there she was. Genevieve Harrington, looking beautiful in a long blue gown, her auburn hair done up in an elegant French twist, looking every inch a politician’s daughter. She slipped beside Mark, her attention focused on her father. Relief filled Kat, nervousness a close second.

  She was caught off guard when applause once again filled the room and the senator stepped down from the stage. “That was fast,” she said to Ethan.

  “He knows his audience,” Ethan responded with a laugh, watching as the senator began making his rounds. On stage, one of the band members hit a button, pre-recorded music spilling from the speakers, softer than the live band had been. Guests took the opportunity to refill their drinks and fill their plates from the buffet table that lined the wall opposite the stage.

  “Are you hungry?” Ethan asked as Kat cautiously sipped her champagne.

  “Maybe later.” She pulled her phone out again.

  “Any more pictures?”

  “Nope,” Kat said easily, smiling up at him as she slid the phone back into her clutch. And no missed texts or calls. Yet.

  “Kat—”

  Senator Harrington and Mark Prescott came up behind Ethan, Genevieve not too far behind.

  “Ethan, Miss Collins, a pleasure to see you again,” the senator greeted, shaking their hands. Kat was surprised he remembered her name. “You remember my daughter, Genevieve.”

  “I do,” Kat replied. “You look exquisite tonight, Miss Harrington. And thank you, Senator. This is a great event,” Kat complimented.

  “Thank Mark,” the senat
or said with an easy smile. “He insisted it was a great way to connect with younger supporters.”

  “And it sounds like I was right,” Mark Prescott laughed before holding out his hand to Kat.

  A glint of gold.

  Kat shook his hand, her smile freezing on her face. Mark Prescott, the man who’d been going into Jessica Adam’s room, carrying balloons and flowers, when she’d been leaving. “Good to see you again, Miss Collins. Ethan, I’m happy you were able to make it tonight.”

  Genevieve caught Kat’s arm. “I think I could use a glass of champagne. Would you like one?”

  “Sounds wonderful,” Kat agreed. She slipped her hand from Ethan’s, following Genevieve toward the bar, still turning the new information over, coming up with nothing.

  “110,” Genevieve said under her breath.

  “When?” Her mind switched gears instantly. God, she hoped she was ready for this. Once again butterflies settled in her stomach.

  “Twenty minutes, half hour at most. I’ll text you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No,” Genevieve laughed. “Thank you.” She glanced behind Kat, her smile dimming a little. “I think my father’s in speed mode tonight. Duty calls,” she sighed.

  Kat turned from the bar, handing Genevieve a glass of champagne. “Don’t forget this.”

  “Thanks. I need it.”

  Kat grabbed a glass she knew she wouldn’t drink as she made her way back to Ethan. Ten minutes later, they were back on the dance floor when the band started playing again. The song was slow and sweet, and Ethan took full advantage, pulling her close. She inhaled deeply, trying to lose herself in his scent, trying to get that feeling she’d had before the senator had given his speech.

  But it was useless. Her fragile bubble had burst, her thoughts now filled with Stephen and what she was about to do.

  “Hey,” Ethan said softly in her ear. “Where’d you go?”

  “Nowhere,” Kat responded instantly, glancing at the dancers around them. Everybody was still having fun, nobody paying any attention to them. “I’m right here.”

  “Look at me.”

  Oh, God. She didn’t want to do this right now. His plea sounded desperate. Urgent. But Kat couldn’t bring herself to do it. She’d expected him to let it go. But he surprised her, forcing her head farther back, and she knew he wouldn’t release her until she did as he asked. And when she did, when green eyes finally met blue, the pain in his nearly knocked her off her feet, stealing the breath from her lungs she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

  “You don’t trust me,” he breathed, incredulous.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Ethan,” she said quickly. “Of course I trust you.”

  He studied her far too closely. “You don’t trust us. My feelings for you.”

  Her heart broke with those words, so painfully spoken. And now she wondered if she didn’t trust them or didn’t want to trust them. “I love you, Ethan. You know that. I can’t stand the thought of ever losing you—”

  “Do not finish that statement with a but, Kat,” Ethan growled.

  Is that where she’d been going with this? She didn’t know anymore. She was so damned confused, her emotions tumbling end over end, she didn’t know which way was up. So easily she could picture a life with Ethan, the man of her dreams. At least, once upon a time.

  But the thought of Stephen not being in her life?

  The pain went well beyond emotional, it was physical, as if she could feel the crack in her heart. Before Kat could respond, the music changed, louder than it seemed before. Ethan led her closer toward the bar, waiting for the bartender to grab them another drink she didn’t want. When he reached in his pocket for a tip, Kat took her chance and made her escape to the bathroom.

  But she barely made it into the hallway before he grabbed her from behind, pulling her toward the fire exit. Before she could yell at him, his voice was in her ear.

  But it wasn’t Ethan’s.

  “Was there a but, Kat?” Stephen growled in her ear. “Or were you about to pledge your undying love? Let him sweep you off your feet to your happily ever after?”

  Kat gasped, unable to turn around for fear of what she’d see in Stephen’s expression. Because if his tone was anything to go by, well, she’d never heard it so infused with sarcasm.

  Faster than she would have thought possible, they were through the fire exit door, standing on the metal grate, the sound of the party muffled, the sound of her breathing loud.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” she hissed, hating the way her heart was hammering. With guilt. With the excitement of just seeing him, though she refused to acknowledge that fact while she angry. Still, it made her words sharper than intended, an effort to push him away. An MO he was familiar with, one that would no longer fool him.

  “Answer me,” he demanded, ignoring her question. Big surprise, that.

  She shot him a look, reaching for the door. Enough, she thought. She’d had enough of the both of them right now. “Knock it off, Stephen. I’m sick and tired of being caught up in this game between the two of you, screwing with my head until I don’t know which way is up.”

  Stephen caught her arm, whipping her around to face him, the dim red light casting an eerie glow over his face. He backed her against the door, trapping her between the warm hard steel of his body and the cold hard steel of the door.

  “Is that what you think this is, Kat? A game?” His eyes were flashing fire, his words furiously whispered as his fingers slid through her hair, forcing her to continue meeting his gaze when she would have looked away. “Because I’ll tell you right now, this is not a fucking game. It’s an all-out fucking war. One I don’t intend to lose.”

  Kat sucked in her breath, turning her head at the last minute, just in time for Stephen’s mouth to skim her cheek. He tightened his grip, the sharp, slight tug of pain arching into pleasure throughout her body, settling at her core. Oh, God. “Don’t…” Weakly whispered, no heat behind the word.

  “Fuck that,” he growled. Then his mouth landed on hers, their kiss instantly out of control, his words heating her as much as his touch. She should have resisted, possibly might have, but the second her hands landed on his chest, they found their way into his hair, gripping his silky strands just as fiercely as his.

  It wasn’t a sweet kiss. Instead he ravaged her. Devoured her. Kissed her as if he was desperate.

  Kissed her as if it was their last.

  And that thought brought such a shock of pain to her system, her whimper of denial was instant. A whimper Stephen obviously took for arousal. And perhaps it was. He let one hand fall, sliding it down her bare back to cup her ass as he bent at the knee. There was no mistaking his arousal when he pressed himself against her, lifting her until she felt him at her core. Her body shaking with need, Kat moaned into his mouth, sliding herself against him.

  Stephen answered with his own masculine groan. Breaking the kiss, he nipped his way down her neck, back up to whisper in her ear. “I’m fighting for my life, Kat.”

  Somewhere through the haze of desire, she knew his words were important. But at the moment all she could think about was his teeth grazing her neck as he nipped and licked his way to her cleavage, his hand moving from her ass to the deep slit up the side of her dress. “Please.”

  Begging.

  She didn’t care.

  Stephen’s scent surrounded her, his touch inflamed her. Delirious with need, Kat cried out when he slipped his hand behind her knee, resting her leg on his hip. She nearly groaned in anticipation as he buried his fingers beneath her panties, his sexy growled curse when he found her soaking wet vibrating through her entire body. Without warning, Stephen shoved two fingers inside her. She bit his neck, muffling her scream, her body shaking with the impact, quivering with the need to climax.

  “Please,” she begged again, moaning when he pulled his fingers out and pushed them back.

  “Say it,” Stephen demanded on another sexy growl. “Tel
l me what you want, what you need.”

  “You…” Know what I need. But those words never made it past her lips. Not when she was gasping again, desire so fierce, her need so great it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

  “Exactly.”

  And somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought she heard warning bells, but when Stephen thrust his fingers inside her again, she was lost. Lost in a sea of sensation as her orgasm exploded through her, Stephen’s mouth once again crashing down on hers, thrusting his tongue inside her mouth just as he did with his fingers, swallowing her scream, holding her body tight as she exploded against him in blinding pleasure.

  His breathing was just as heavy as hers as she slowly came down, her body still shuddering with aftershocks as his kiss changed from ravaging to sweet. His fingers were still inside her, moving slow, an easy press against her g-spot that made her moan, needing him still, wanting more. So much more. Because that was definitely not enough.

  “You. Are. Mine.”

  Everything inside her froze. She tried to back up, the door halting her progress as her blood ran cold. “Is that what this was about, Stephen? Another strategic maneuver in your game—”

  “Don’t,” he warned. “Do not turn this into a fight. I just told you this wasn’t a game. This was about proving you want me just as much as I want you—”

  “A deliberate, calculating move on your part then.”

  “Don’t you dare,” he hissed. “You’re twisting my words, purposely picking a fight. Do you forget how well I know you? Know the games you play?”

  “Screw you—”

  “With pleasure, sweetheart. Anytime.”

  His eyes burned into hers. Determination. Arousal. Fear. An aching, hungry desire that went far beyond the physical.

  And that changed everything, didn’t it?

  She noticed how breath-stealing beautiful he looked in his tuxedo for the first time. Looking every inch the gentleman he definitely was not, the raw power of his sexuality unable to be hidden behind the elegant façade. His hair was messy from her fingers, his lips swollen from her kisses.