Seducing Her Rival

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Seducing Her Rival Page 11

by Seleste deLaney

And she wasn’t ready to give in.

  She quietly rose from the bed and put on enough of her clothes to sneak back down the hallway.

  Chapter Nine

  Mercedes spent her entire day in Jamaica wondering when—if— Lucas would show up. He wasn’t on her excursion or at Margaritaville after. She didn’t even run into him shopping. As much as she knew she should be relieved—especially since she hadn’t managed to get Eva on the phone to discuss options—she missed having him there. Missed the sniping and the knowing glances and the way her insides heated and coiled when he touched her.

  She wasn’t going to hunt for him though. Even if she’d had the desire—and she convinced herself at least once an hour that she didn’t—she wasn’t ready to spill her guts to him. She might never be.

  Her plan had been to make him fall in love with her to help save Better Todays’ playground project, but she’d discovered the price was just too high.

  Beyond that, she needed to get back to the ship if she wanted her massage. After walking all day and the stress of the week so far, she could definitely use it. So much for having a relaxing vacation. As soon as she was on board, she raced to her cabin and took a quick rinse in the shower then tore off to the spa.

  A massage! An hour and a half of peace and quiet and time to think about anything other than Lucas. She hoped and prayed the masseuse would be able to shut her brain off. When she got back to New York, she might just have to kiss Kelsey for suggesting the extravagance.

  “Ah, Ms. Vega, right on time.” A tiny woman waved her toward the table on the far side of the room. The woman didn’t look like she’d have the strength to ease the tension building throughout Mercedes’s body. Seconds later, she forgot her cares as the little masseuse worked kink after kink from her back and shoulders. Her body felt like Jell-O and time melted away. She had to blink a few times before her brain registered the words when the masseuse asked her to turn over.

  With a groan of ecstasy, Mercedes flipped onto her back. Her crazy discomfort over having a stranger touching her so intimately had completely disappeared. The little woman could do whatever she wanted as long as it made Mercedes feel like this.

  She’d just closed her eyes and was sinking into oblivion when the masseuse pressed her fingers against the skin just below her collarbone. Mercedes flashed back to that first night with Lucas as he massaged her shoulders in the jazz club. For a little while, he’d made her forget her cares too, made her believe she could do everything she needed to and enjoy her life in the process.

  More than Kelsey, more than Marco even, Lucas had made her believe there might be light at the end of the tunnel. Some joy to strive for. Then in one stupid moment, he’d moved from her savior to her rival. She’d avoided talking about the property so far because of the damn plan, because she knew she couldn’t keep calm for that discussion. But what if she hadn’t made him fall in love with her at all? What if he’d been on the way from the beginning and she’d only managed to delay it when she walked out? Delay the chance that he might back off—for her.

  Had she screwed everything up by trying to get this stupid revenge after all? No. Lucas Bellamy didn’t fall in love—not if his trail of women was any indication. And none of those women in his past came from Mercedes’s background. Cole’s hateful words rang in her ears.

  She would’ve just been another number to him. The only way to win the dating game with Lucas was to beat him at it. And, like it or not, she wasn’t that girl. He hadn’t even known what game they were playing, and he’d still beaten her. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes by the time the masseuse told Mercedes her time was up. She managed to sign for a tip before she wrapped the towel tight, grabbed her clothes, and raced from the room. She needed time to think—alone.

  Steam room. Steam room. There it was. She ducked inside, throwing her clothes into the alcove. Once she had the inner door shut, she sagged against the wall, the strange jumble of emotions boiling over. She’d been pushing so hard for forgiveness from her past that she couldn’t tell if that very forgiveness was here in her present. Was he an angel or just a demon in good lighting? Either way, Lucas was right. She was afraid—terrified—both that he was the path to her redemption and that he was just one more mistake for her to make.

  She had to choose. It boiled down to a man whom she really knew as nothing more than a face on the society pages…and the kids that meant so much to her. If she came clean to Lucas, if the truth of what she’d been doing and the hidden reason why she’d been doing it came out…

  She couldn’t have both.

  Yet a part of her—a huge part of her, if she was honest with herself—wanted to choose the person who she knew would break her heart and desert her in the long run.

  A sob caught in her throat as the door opened.

  …

  Lucas’s workout hadn’t done a damn thing to reduce his stress over Mercedes walking out last night. The only thing he could pat himself on the back for was that he hadn’t chased her. Otherwise, he was a mess. He’d almost speared himself in the foot fishing in Jamaica. After the near miss, he’d come back here and hit the treadmill. And the weights. And the treadmill some more. He couldn’t get her out of his head. Sure, he wanted answers, but he wanted her more. And he was near ready to take her on whatever terms she’d offer.

  Then he’d dragged his aching body to the steam room, and her ghost stood in the mists.

  Since meeting her, Lucas had never seen Mercedes looking as small and fragile as she did in that moment as steam billowed around her and she tried to shrink back into the wall while she gasped for breath. What the hell had happened since she left last night?

  He twisted the knob by the door to lower the temperature and stepped forward, reaching out as if she were an injured animal that he feared would bolt. Her jaw trembled under his touch, but she leaned into the press of his skin. “Mercedes?”

  “You win. I can’t do this anymore. Whatever you want, you win.” Something too warm to be sweat or steam trickled down her cheek and over his thumb.

  He wiped the tear away and inched closer, wanting to pull her into his arms and hold her close. This was what he’d been missing all along—seeing inside her, the vulnerability beyond her armor. It left him aching for her, desperate to know her at last. “I just want you, Mercedes, every part of you. I don’t know if it’s your beauty or your heart or the fact your smart mouth never backs down from mine. All I know is the minutes when I’m with you are the brightest ones in my day, but I can’t handle only having part of you.”

  “But I hate you.”

  He started, jerking back from her as if she’d slapped him. If she’d hated him, she never would have stayed this long. He advanced again, another couple inches closer until he could see her through the veil of steam. “No, you don’t.”

  Frowning, she pressed her lips together, rolling them and making them swell. “No, I don’t, but I should. I want to. It’d be so much easier if I could, but I don’t.”

  “That makes no sense, but I will happily listen while you explain everything to me so I can understand.” Emboldened, Lucas ran his thumb over her full bottom lip. “I want you to trust me enough to tell me everything. No matter what you say, I won’t run and leave you alone. I’m not going anywhere, Mercedes.”

  “You say that now…”

  “Yes. And I’ll say it tomorrow. And the next day. And the next.”

  She shook her head, her hair hanging in a damp, heavy curtain. “And the next you’ll say good-bye. I won’t give you my heart so you can dump it at the curb the instant your limo stops at a light. I can’t.”

  A fist clenched around his heart, squeezing it until he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t want good-bye to come on Sunday, but with his track record… If she knew anything about his personal life, no wonder she didn’t trust in what she felt. Hell, he didn’t know if he could trust himself, only that he wanted to. He’d found perfection in skin and he’d finally realized he didn’t want to let
her go.

  “Even if I could promise you forever right now you wouldn’t believe me, we both know that, but I don’t want to quit on something that feels this right just because there are stupid obstacles in our path. So give what you can today, right now, and we’ll deal with the rest as it comes, but you have to meet me halfway.” He’d said it all, every truth he had to offer. Now he had to wait and hope somehow it would be enough.

  They stood like that for several minutes—his hand cupping her cheek, her back against the wall—as steam condensed on their skin. Droplets carved rivers down Mercedes’s neck and chest, only to disappear at the edge of her towel. He counted them as they formed. When he reached ten, his fingers started to draw away from her warmth.

  She’d obviously decided. His one attempt to go for something real and it had turned out just as he’d always expected—he lost her. He should just leave with what pride he still had intact.

  The instant Lucas stopped touching her, Mercedes launched herself at him. Her lips pressed against his, the salty taste of her tears trickling through the spaces between their mouths as her hands tangled in his hair. She opened to him without hesitation, without fear, and she tasted glorious, like pain set on fire to burn to the sky. She tasted like freedom.

  His mouth never leaving hers, Lucas eased her onto the bench along the wall. He grazed her body with his touch even as his cock reared to life, screaming for attention. And then her hand was there, under his towel, wrapped around his length.

  He groaned against her lips. “We’ve got the place to ourselves. We’re the only ones signed up for the steam room right now, but I didn’t bring anything. I—”

  “I am protected and clean, amado, and I need you. If you can say the same…” Slick from the steam, she pulled gently on him.

  Hell, yes, he could say the same. He tugged their towels free, arranging them beneath her, and found her center with his fingers, easing in, only to find her wet and ready. The way she clung to him, nails digging into his skin, desperate and hungry, made him want to do anything for her.

  And right now, he could at the very least do this. Only… “You need to promise. No more shutting me out.”

  She shuddered out a sigh. “I already told you. You win. I’ll tell you as much as I can without breaking.”

  There was no way he would push her far enough that would even be a question. And for now, the revelation that point existed was enough to satisfy him, at least until he’d given her the release she so desperately seemed to need. He pressed his tip into her opening until she whimpered, the sound nearly shattering his control.

  “Please… Please…”

  Mercedes said it over and over, like she couldn’t quite decide what she was begging for, only that she wanted it.

  Obliging, Lucas pushed into her, savoring how tight and slick she was—how much she wanted him, regardless of how she’d run away. He moved inside her as he trailed kisses from her lips to her shoulders and up her arms. So far their nights had been all about primal hunger. This was more.

  For reasons he didn’t understand, Lucas cared about this woman. He wanted to make her feel like more than just some warm body. He wanted her to feel treasured.

  And they were having sex in the damn steam room.

  The thought made him pause. What was he doing? He needed to take her to his suite and throw rose petals on the bed or something. Not this.

  “No. No, no, no. Amado, do not disappear on me now.” Mercedes held his face in her hands and forced him to look at her—at the agony written on her features. “Please. I don’t know if I can do this again if you disappear.”

  The rose petals could wait. “Then consider me your constant companion, because I have no intention of letting you walk away from me again.”

  He ground his hips against hers until her eyelids fluttered and she tipped her head back. With such an open invitation, he couldn’t resist and lowered his head to bite at her neck. She bucked under him, gasping and twining her legs around his waist.

  More? He swelled inside her, wanting to give her everything, every piece of him she craved and then some. Their bodies melded, pressed together as they thrust and slid—hot and wet and wonderful. Her body went taut and she cried out his name as she came, her muscles squeezing him until he followed her on a wave of orgasm.

  Even if she hadn’t broken yet, he had. She’d promised to answer his questions, and there was no way he was letting her go until she did. He wasn’t sure he’d ever want to let her go now. He collapsed, still inside her and holding her close, like he could keep the moment from ending. “Come back and stay with me again tonight.” Mercedes tensed in his arms until he started stroking her hair. “Hell, stay with me every night.”

  Sighing, she settled into his embrace and nuzzled his neck. “Yes. I don’t think I can say anything but yes to you anymore, amado.”

  …

  If Mercedes didn’t stop calling him “beloved,” she was going to cut out her own tongue. They’d had sex in his room again before they both passed out last night and she must have used the endearment a dozen times. At least the conversation thing hadn’t been too invasive. For the most part, he’d let her off easy—the most deeply personal questions being about Kelsey…and Eva. At least the latter came after the former, and Mercedes was able to tell the truth without revealing everything.

  It would get harder though. Lucas was trying so damn hard to break down the few walls she had left that she’d used dress shopping for the fund-raiser as an excuse to leave this morning.

  Shopping. Ha! She didn’t have money for a new dress, especially not anything she could buy here. She’d been spending her meager budget on activities and fun, completely forgetting that she’d need a dress for the fund-raiser.

  This was why Kelsey was normally the face of the charity.

  Before she’d even gone to the stores, she’d pawed through her clothes. She had a dress she could wear tonight, but it was more casual than cocktail and definitely not formal.

  She huffed out a breath and swatted at a strand of lights that dangled from the trees in the shopping area. Giving her head a fierce shake, Mercedes frowned at the gown in the window—all dusty rose and copper. Gorgeous and probably expensive enough that the amount on the price tag could feed a homeless family for at least a few months. She hated herself for even wanting it. That’s who she’d been with Cole—the girl willing to do anything for something beautiful. She wasn’t that person anymore—luxury wasn’t supposed to appeal to her.

  What killed her was that, like Cole, Lucas could afford the gown. Hell, he probably wouldn’t even blink at the price. He’d already committed two grand to Better Todays, so she couldn’t give him grief about how he spent his money, but it still gnawed at her. If it wasn’t just a game anymore—and damn her for not being sure—how could she exist in a world where that kind of money was normal? Where luxury was normal? She didn’t know where she fit in that picture. Did Lucas?

  What would he think of her if he knew her past? Knew that because she and her rich boyfriend had needed a fix a kid had gotten shot? Because she’d been too stupid to read the writing on the wall with her ex?

  He’d find out soon enough though. There’d be no avoiding it if they kept the conversation up—there’d be no avoiding anything. It was time to give up what was left of the game. She’d lost herself to him whether she wanted to or not. Maybe when her history came out she could make him understand how much the kids of Queens needed the playground…maybe he’d call his hounds off the property.

  If that wasn’t a wish fulfillment fantasy right there, she didn’t know what was. Maybe the dress. But she wasn’t Cinderella, and her fairy godmother was back in Queens trying to make sure their grants came through before Bellamy Enterprises got their zoning approved.

  Could Lucas’s happily ever after have room in it for an ex-druggie from Queens? And could she ever be the type of woman who walked into a store and bought something extravagant just because, without beating hersel
f up with guilt? She stared at the dress for another long minute then sighed and walked away from the shop without a backward glance.

  Chapter Ten

  Lucas stood in the shadow of a tree, sipping his coffee, and watched as Mercedes stared longingly at the dress in the window. Then she walked away without even bothering to go in and try it on. She’d done the same thing at every place she stopped in front of. Instead of heading to another store, she stepped purposefully into the cupcake shop.

  Was that really how women shopped when they were alone? Somehow he doubted it—except maybe the cupcake part. No, this was likely a combination of her money woes and whatever thoughts plagued her mind enough to make her walk out this morning.

  She said she’d meet him for lunch, so he wasn’t overly worried about her dashing out. She obviously needed space for a little while. The former issue he could do something about though, at least this time. Setting aside his empty cup, he strode into the shop.

  A young woman about Mercedes’s height with sun-bleached hair smiled at him, recognition lighting her eyes. “Can I help you, Mr. Bellamy?”

  “Yes, I want to buy a dress for a friend. She’s about your height…”

  Within thirty minutes, the dress was wrapped in the pretty white box he had tucked under his arm. He headed back toward his suite but he had one more stop to make first.

  …

  Mercedes’s smile was a little too forced when she came back to the suite for lunch. Lucas didn’t move from the piano, continuing to play, wondering when she’d notice the box on the bar behind her.

  “The piano still works?”

  He laughed, his hands still moving like they had a mind of their own.

  “I’ve never heard that song before. It’s beautiful.” She perched on the bench next to him.

  His fingers kept dancing over the keys. “Enjoy it now because it’ll never be heard again.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I don’t actually play. My mother hired half-a-dozen people to try to drill lessons into my head when I was little. I learned just enough to not sound like shit when I mess around.” He finished the improvised number with a flourish and grinned at her. “However, if you’d like to hear the one song I remember from years and years of lessons…” Without waiting for a response, he tapped out “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.”

 

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