“What were you doing there?” I asked him, no longer able to contain myself. “At the ... auction. Why were you there?”
Of all the questions, that was the one that refused to quit screaming inside my head. It was a full-on battle cry of uncertainty and doubt, and I couldn’t ignore it.
I had to know.
I had to strike out the idea that my Kieran was someone who went to those places to buy girls like puppies. I had to be sure I wasn’t in love with someone capable of that, that he wasn’t like David.
“I inherited it,” he replied. “My dad owned several places like that. I’ve been going through his investments, seeing which ones to keep and which to sell. The auction house was one of them. It was my first time there.”
I wasn’t sure how that made me feel. Relieved, maybe. But it didn’t answer my question.
“Why were you there?”
His lashes lowered over his eyes. “I didn’t realize what kind of auction it was until I arrived.” His gaze lifted to mine. Intense. “I didn’t go there for the girls. I’m not my father. You’re the only one I even noticed.”
It was my turn to look away. “You must have been surprised.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” he confessed. “But mostly, I was scared and angry.”
I peeked up at him. “Why?”
A muscle tensed in his jaw. “Because those men wanted you, because you were there at all, because you looked helpless and terrified, and I couldn’t get to you. I don’t like that feeling.”
I winced at the word helpless. Coming from him, it wasn’t said with pity or amusement, but I felt ... cheap. I felt pathetic. I didn’t like him thinking about me and seeing me as some weak, helpless girl he had to rescue.
“Weren’t there other girls?”
He nodded. “But they weren’t you. I wasn’t going to let anyone take you.”
“And the rest?”
“The rest?”
It was my turn to nod. “The rest. The room. You. Me. You never...” I dropped my gaze. “Why?”
He didn’t respond right away. His attention lifted over my head and he motioned to someone. I didn’t need to look to hear the click of heels as the stewardess hurry towards us.
“Sir?”
She had a nice voice. A soft, girly sound that would have sounded great on a sex tape.
“Drinks, please, Amanda. A scotch for me.”
“Nothing for me. Thanks,” I murmured when both eyes turned to me.
Amanda smiled and hurried away.
Kieran sighed. “I was going to. I went in there fully intending to take off the blindfold and haul you home. But then I walked into the room and saw you...” he trailed off with another heavy exhale. “I’m not proud of the way I handled the situation. I know I could have done things differently. But given the chance to do it over, I don’t know if I would change any of it. That night put things into perspective for me. It gave me the push I needed to take the next step. I don’t regret that.”
Amanda returned with Kieran’s drink. It was set on a tiny napkin in front of him.
“Will there be anything else, Mr. Kincaid?”
Kieran never took his eyes off me, not even when he shook his head. “No, thank you, Amanda.”
With a bob of her head, Amanda scampered off again.
“And I did try to tell you,” he continued as if we were never interrupted. “Multiple times. Even in that room. You asked me not to.”
I sucked my bottom lip in between my teeth and turned my chin to the window.
He had me, because he had tried. None of this was on him. How could I possibly blame him for what happened? It was all on me. I made the choice to sell myself. He had only saved me from god knew what. It was anyone’s guess what could have happened if he hadn’t. Who knew the type of person I could have wound up with. They could have done anything to me. My first time could have been a nightmare, but it wasn’t.
It had been amazing.
He had been amazing.
He’d been gentle and caring.
He’d put me first and made sure I was okay.
True, it wasn’t how I would have liked to be with him, to have my first time, but it had been perfect.
“I’m sorry,” I said at last. “I’m treating you like you did something wrong and you didn’t. I owe you so much—”
“Gabby.”
I shook my head, stopping him. “You saved my life.” I bolted down my courage and faced him head on. “I don’t know how many men were behind that glass. I don’t know what kind of people they were, but I can’t imagine they were upstanding gentlemen if they were there willingly to buy girls. You kept me from that, from them. You protected me. You spent an insane amount of money ... god, so much...” I scrubbed at my forehead with the tips of my fingers. “I can’t even ... I can’t ever repay that.”
“I don’t want it.”
I ignored him. “But I can return half. Forty percent, actually. It’s everything I was given—”
“Gabby.”
“No!” I silenced him with a glower. “I’m not ... I can’t keep it. I don’t want it. I’m not ... I’m not an idiot. I don’t care how they fancy up the word, or gloss it up to make it sound decent. It’s not. You paid to fuck me. You paid a fucking shit ton to get into my pants. I don’t know if it was worth it, because over a million dollars for someone’s virginity is crazy, but you did it and I let you. I know what that makes me.”
“Stop.”
There was a dark warning in his eyes, in the firm set of his lips, in the fists curling into the armrests of his chair, but the word had already dropped onto the table between us.
“A whore.”
He was out of his seat before I could draw in a breath. His fingers closed into my coat and I was hauled up with him. He tore open the bulky fabric and shoved it down my arms.
“Kieran—?”
It was ripped from my body and pitched back into my empty chair. His coat was tossed into his. Then his hands were in my hair, gripping tight enough to pull strands from their roots and send tiny, electric ripples down my spine.
“You ever use that word again...” His hold tightened until I winced. “You won’t like what I do, do you understand? A whore is someone who sleeps with anyone. How many men have you been with, Gabrielle?”
I flinched at the use of my full name on his lips. I couldn’t even recall the last time he’d ever said it like that. I sure as hell didn’t like it.
“One,” I whispered.
“Me,” he corrected. “You’ve only been with me and that is never going to change. I’m your first and, God help me, but I will be your last.” He pulled me snug against him, leaving not even a sliver of space between us. “And I didn’t pay to fuck you. I paid to get the woman I love away from that fucking place. I would have paid double. Triple, if I had to. I would have sold everything I own to keep those bastards away from you. You’re mine, Gabby. Not because I paid for you, but because I fucking love you.”
“I’m still giving the money back,” I croaked around the beating organ lodged in my throat.
His fingers slipped free of my hair and drew forward to cup my jaw. His thumbs wedged between my chin, forcing my head back.
“Fine,” he bit out through clenched teeth. “But I’m still keeping you.”
Of their own consent, my fingers lifted to touch the smooth hollow of his cheek. They traced the curve to his sharp jawline and down to smooth over his lips.
He kissed the tips and the gesture surged hot down my arm.
“Would you still want me if it had been someone else?” I looked past his mouth to his eyes. “If it hadn’t been you that night and I told you the truth, would you still want to keep me?”
“Yes.” He never even hesitated. “You could have slept with every man in there and I would still love you.”
The very image was revolting. I didn’t understand it.
“Why?”
“I told you, you became mine yesterd
ay. That was when you and me became a we, and you became mine. Not before. Not the auction. Not the night on your sofa. Yesterday, at exactly six-twenty PM when I had you up against my car, that’s the only point in our lives that I’m counting from.”
“That’s crazy.”
He shook his head slowly, thumb tracing the seam of my mouth. “No, sweetheart, that’s simple logic. I’m not going to judge you for the things you had to do before me.”
I could only simply stare at him, bewildered by the man peering back at me as if I somehow held all the answers to life’s problems.
“Who are you?”
“I’ll let you decide.”
He gathered me up into his arms and hauled me to the sofa. I was placed on the leather cushions and he quickly followed, positioning us with me half on top. His knee wedged between my thighs and he tucked my front perfectly against his.
“I don’t deserve you,” I whispered into the taut skin at his throat.
He shrugged. “But you’re stuck with me.”
I tipped my head back to peer up at him. “You love me.”
One eyebrow lifted the same time his finger swept back a lock of hair off my temple. “Finally setting in, is it?”
I caught the hand and held its palm to my cheek. “I mean I never expected you would.”
“Weird.” He dropped his hands and slid them around my middle. He clasped them at the small of my spine. “Maybe you missed it during one of your panicked dashes away from me.”
I chuckled grimly. “You don’t understand. David and Cordelia have been planning this match since the moment Eric brought you home. David has been working his ass off to make sure you marry his daughter.”
“And I fully intend to.”
I hesitated, torn between divulging the family’s dark secret and letting him continue believing the lie. I opted for the first. I had promised him I wouldn’t lie, and maybe, once he understood what he was dealing with, he might come to his senses and realize what a mistake he was making.
“I’m not David’s daughter. I’m not even related to him.”
As I’d expected, confusion pulled furrows into his brow. “What? What are you talking about?”
There was no turning back now. The can of worms had been opened and all the filth and slime was pouring out.
“My mom had an affair and I am the result. I’m not David’s. I’m not even a real Thornton, but the truth would ruin the family name, so, he claimed me as his.”
“Jesus,” he murmured. “So, who’s your dad?”
I shrugged, deliberately fixated on the braided threads woven into his black sweater. “Mom says she was drunk during a cruise. Could have been anyone. She woke up the next morning, naked and pregnant.”
He was silent for a long time, whole minutes where I couldn’t bring myself to meet his eyes and he couldn’t stop stroking my hair. His every warm breath brushed my forehead and ruffled the wisps of hair falling into my eyes. It washed over my face with the clean scent of mint.
“If you still want me,” I continued softly, “this is it.” I raised my chin with what was left of my willpower. I caught his warm, whiskey eyes with my pale green ones. “I have no fortune. I have no money at all. I’m several thousand in debt. I live in a dump that I’m sure will burn down one day with me in it, and I drive a car held together by duct tape and dreams. I was in that auction because...” I faltered, the words sticking to the inside of my chest. It broke my resolve and my chin dropped once more, but I pulled myself together just long enough to murmur a half truth, “I needed the money.”
It wasn’t everything, but I didn’t have the stomach to tell him the rest. I would maybe someday, but I had already told him more about me in a single hour than I’d told anyone. He was practically an expert on my life now.
“I have a fortune,” he murmured. “I have a massive house and two garages full of cars. I have more things then I could properly catalogue. I have properties all over the world, a company that shits billions with just a sneeze, and a mother I only see on holidays and parties.” He paused to skim the bent knuckle on one finger along my jawline. “You can have all of it, right down to my very last sock. It means nothing to me. Just like your bloodline and your bank account make no difference in how I feel about you.”
“You’d be marrying a nobody.”
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “My dad married my mom out of obligation. It’s mandatory for the men in my family to be married by thirty and have produced an heir by thirty-five.”
I hissed through my teeth. “You’re behind, Mr. Kincaid.”
He nodded and gave a lock of my hair a gentle tug. “My mom’s only job was to give my father a son. Once that had been complete, he had his string of mistresses and she had her lovers. He had his penthouse and the room down the hall, and she had her own separate living quarters. I never saw my parents in the same room together, unless it was for a function and it was necessary. When my father died, my mother packed up her things and left the manor that same week as if his existence had been shackles keeping her to that place.”
The hair in his grip twisted around one finger. He watched it, riveted in the motion, but lost in his story. The memories echoed in his eyes, a haunted glow that wrenched my heart.
“Kieran...”
His lashes lifted and I found myself reflected amongst all his pain. “No one is perfect, Gabby. If you can accept that I was an obligation to carry on a name, then I can accept that you’re not a Thornton.”
“David won’t like this,” I whispered, fear tightening my stomach muscles. “He’s going to be so angry.”
Something pensive crossed over Kieran’s features, a passing wariness that narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. The finger toying with my hair stopped, and he simply studied me.
“Was he the one who put his hands on you the other night?”
I stiffened. “What?”
The tip of his fingers brushed my jaw where the faint reminder of David’s touch still lingered.
“I’m not blind, Gabby,” he murmured. “I wasn’t sure at first. You had it covered up pretty good, but I saw it that night on your sofa, after you’d washed the makeup off.”
“I don’t...”
His finger settled on my lips. “You promised never to lie to me.”
My lashes lowered. “It’s complicated.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s not, not anymore. If he puts one finger on you again, I’ll end him. That includes your mother, your sister, and your brother. I will ruin all of them.”
I started to shake my head. “I don’t want you to—”
“Sorry, love, it’s not about what you want, not when it comes to this. I won’t make many demands of you, or ask you to do anything you don’t want, but you won’t stop me from destroying anyone who hurts you.”
I kissed him, my emotions getting the better of me. I momentarily lost myself in the safety and happiness he promised. I lost myself in the possibilities.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked when I lifted my head for air.
He grinned. “You’ll see.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Are you kidnapping me?”
He pulled my face back down to his. “Oh, absolutely.”
It was a five and a half hour flight, five hours of snuggling with Kieran on the sofa. We stayed away from topics of my family, but the rest of the world was open for discussion. I loved the sound of his voice and the little grin that always tugged at the corner of his mouth a split second before his face bloomed into a full-blown smile. I loved how his eyes always went to my mouth just before his fingers reached to touch my face. If I hadn’t already been, I could have easily lost my heart to him.
We landed with a gentle bump of rubber on asphalt. The jet glided down a long runway before coming to a curving stop next to a building. We were released onto the tarmac. Kieran took my hand and led me into the structure. No one stopped us as we cut through the row of desks and sitting area to the other set of do
ors on the other side.
The air was warm, wherever we were. A drastic change to the frigid fall we’d left behind. I was almost glad he’d insisted we leave our coats on the plane.
A car was already waiting for us when we left the building. The black Lincoln waited at the bottom of a series of stairs, a driver next to it.
The door was opened and Kieran motioned me in first.
“Where are we?” I asked as he climbed in after me.
“I’m not entirely sure,” he lied with a mischievous squint at our surroundings.
I poked him, but didn’t ask again.
My question was answered a few minutes later when we passed a sign heading southwest on Vicksburg Ave.
“We’re in LA?” I gasped, craning my neck to get a better glimpse of the sign, but we’d already passed it.
He merely shrugged, but there was no missing it. We were heading down Ocean Ave.
I’d never been to California, but I was already in love with it. The heat, the sights, and sounds, it was sensory overload of the best kind. I couldn’t look at everything fast enough.
When we pulled into Santa Monica Pier, I about died.
“No!” I cried, rounding on the man seated next to me. “Seriously?”
His answer was to roll out of the car with a smirk and round the trunk to my side before the driver could. My door was opened and he helped me out.
“Why would you do this?”
He shut the door behind me. “Because you said you’ve always wanted to go.”
I frowned despite the massive grin I couldn’t conceal. “When?”
He said something quietly to the driver before turning back to me. “At Dolores Nesbit’s eightieth birthday party.” He slipped his fingers through mine. “You were wearing that off the shoulder black number with the silver threads and strappy, silver heels. Most of your hair was pinned up, but there were curls left free down your back that I swear taunted me to coil around my fingers the entire night. Dolores mentioned having visited the park with her great niece that summer and you said you’d always wanted to go.”
I stared at him, my brain doing the math. “That was three years ago.”
He nodded. “I know.”
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