by Bella Andre
“Don’t be sorry. It was good for me.” When his eyebrow rose in disbelief, she clarified. “The things she said were horrible. But knowing I could stand up to her and defend myself? That was good. Great, in fact. Although,” she added with a small laugh, “I’m not sure I’ll be able to watch Sleeping Beauty again any time soon. I swear she actually looked like the wicked witch when she was yelling at me.”
It was a good sign that Paige could laugh. “I’ve always known you were stronger than her. So has she, which is why she worked so hard to cut you down.” He ran his hands over her hair, needing to touch her, to know that she was safe and unharmed.
“She didn’t expect me to come back at her. Never thought I would tell her not to call me again unless she wanted to apologize to you and ask for forgiveness.”
For Paige, that was huge. Family was everything to her. It was why she hadn’t deserted Whitney when anyone else would have.
But then, as if some sort of dam suddenly broke inside her, she sobbed, the tears rising so quickly she couldn’t stop them. He couldn’t stop them.
“God, sweetheart, please.” He didn’t have the right words. He could only gather her against him.
“That story I told you about swinging into the creek.” Her voice broke. “I wanted it to always be like that. I wanted to love her. For her to love me. I wanted us to be real sisters. I wanted that so badly that I was actually dying for her to come visit me that weekend at college when you met her. I thought we could actually be different together once we weren’t living in the same house.”
He closed his eyes, feeling her grief, his own, knowing what they’d both lost that weekend.
“And I wanted to do right by my mother, to keep my promise. But I never could. It was impossible. Whitney would never let me.”
He held her, stroking her back. “It wasn’t your fault.” But she needed to let it out. He’d thought his own wounds were deep, but the scars Whitney had left on Paige might even be worse.
She breathed in, out, quickly, then sniffed. “I know I’m not to blame. I think I’ve known it since the day I found out what she did to you.”
And he’d been caught in a vicious loop of believing how wrong it was to be with Paige because she was his sister-in-law. But the only wrong thing was Whitney. Wrong had never been finding pleasure—and peace—in Paige’s arms.
He was so freaking tired of feeling shitty, of feeling guilty, of feeling foolish. Most of all, he was tired of imagining that his future could only get worse, like he was still that little kid hiding in dark corners trying to avoid the beating that was going to come anyway.
With Whitney, he had no doubt that she would fight him in as many dirty, nasty, underhanded ways as she could think of. But though he’d fight back with every ounce of his will, he’d also take the light, the joy, and the sweetness of the present with Paige. Every last moment that he could have with her—and he swore he would appreciate every single one.
He wiped the tears from her cheeks and took Paige’s lips again, slowly, lingeringly, tasting every inch of her mouth. “You’re so fresh, so lovely, so real. You can’t know the number of people I meet who are phonies. Who just want something from me. But you’ve never asked for anything except my friendship. And you gave me yours without question.”
She shook her head. “I’ve always wanted more, Evan.” Yet again, her bravery astounded him as she squarely met his gaze. “I still do.”
He kissed the corner of her eye, the tip of her nose, then her lips. He wanted to give her the promises she needed to hear, but he couldn’t lie to her. The only thing he knew for sure was that he couldn’t walk away.
“You’re the most important person in the world to me, Paige.”
Her smile warmed him, a smile that came even though he hadn’t given her the word love, as she’d given it to him.
“I know I am.” Her hands moved to cover his. “But I love hearing you say it out loud.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you. I can’t stand to even think of that.”
“Then don’t.”
She made it sound so simple.
Was it?
Could it be?
Simple or not, he hauled her up until she could wrap her legs around his waist, locking her bare ankles behind him.
“I love it when you do that,” she said. “When you act like you can’t get enough of me.”
“I can’t.” Nothing had ever been more true. And there was so much more truth she needed to know. “I love that we were friends first before lovers. That I know you so well. That you’re part of my family.”
She kissed him as he carried her into the bedroom, then he let her feet down until she was standing before him.
“I want you so badly, need you so much.” He couldn’t believe what he was about to admit. But he could be honest with Paige. Always. No matter what. “I don’t know where to start to show you how much I need you.”
Whatever he expected her to do or say in response, it wasn’t the way she scrambled back onto the mattress and grinned up at him. “Where do you want to start?”
Sex had never been fun. It had been a minefield like all the other minefields in his life. But even after a harrowing confrontation, after tears, Paige was full of life and playfulness. Damn if he didn’t need that. Badly. They both did, needed to banish the darkness once and for all. Together.
He climbed over her, straddling her body on hands and knees. “Here.” He slid his hand up under her sweater and cupped her breast through the lace of her bra.
“Or,” she said in a naughty voice that revved his engine hotter and faster, “you could start here.” She drew his hand out of her sweater…and over the hot, damp apex of her thighs.
“You always were the smarter of the two of us.” He enjoyed teasing her with his words as much as his touch. “You have too many clothes on.”
She gazed up at him, her eyes hot. “Let’s see who can get undressed the fastest.”
He’d never seen her look quite so free before. He was proud of her for standing up to her sister, for having the courage to cut her off. But he’d tell her later, after he ravished her.
“You’re on,” he said, whipping his shirt over his head while he kicked off his shoes.
She simply started tearing everything off right there on the bed, throwing clothing every which way.
“I beat you.” She lay dazzlingly naked in the middle of the bed, completely unabashed.
“That’s only because you were barely dressed from the last time I devoured you.”
Had it really been only an hour ago that they’d fallen on each other in her entryway? It seemed like a lifetime.
He started to climb back onto the bed, but she held up her hand. “Wait.”
He stopped, one knee on the mattress. “What?”
“I want to look at you.” Her gaze stroked him like the touch of her hand. “You’re like a Greek statue. You always have been.”
He worked out every day to get this way. He and Matt had been the puniest of the Mavericks when they were younger. “Back in college, I didn’t have nearly enough time to work out.”
She reached out, running her fingertips over his pecs, his abs, his muscles leaping beneath her touch. Wanting more. Always more when it came to Paige.
“Even in college, you were magnificent. And now I know how you feel, how you taste.” She licked her lips. “Even in my dreams, it wasn’t this good.”
“I dreamed about you too. When we were in college.”
“You did?”
“How could I not? And then this week, I couldn’t stop dreaming again, couldn’t stop fantasizing.” He came back over her, kissing her mouth before raining kisses down over her neck, her shoulders, the swells of her breasts until she gasped. Moaned her pleasure. “You made all those hot little sounds in my dreams.” He slid a hand down between them. “I touched you here.” He stroked up, gliding over her aroused flesh until she arched, her breasts caressing his chest. “Then I
did this.” He rolled her to her stomach beneath him, brought her up to her knees.
Sliding down between her legs, he parted them and breathed her in. Her hair fell over her back, and he brushed the silky locks aside to kiss her spine, loving the way she trembled with need.
He licked and kissed and nipped, then rose up over her. “You’re so ready. So hungry. For me. Only me.” He rubbed his hard length along the slick folds of her sex. “Just like you were in my dreams.”
He poised at her entrance, held himself there, glorying in her heat. Then he slid home inside her.
“Evan.” His name fell from her lips as she took him deeper than he’d ever thought it possible to connect with another person.
“I kissed your neck just like this.” His words were raw, overwhelmed with desire as he peppered her neck with kisses. He pushed deeper, and her hands fisted on the sheets. When he pulled out, he forced himself to go slow, to tease her, stroke her. “I told you how gorgeous you were.” He buried his face in her hair. “I told you how you filled up every empty space inside me.”
She cried out, her body shivering around him. And he almost lost it. Lost himself completely in her. But he needed her to know what she did to him. How much she meant.
“In my dreams, I told you how much I loved the sound of your voice.” He groaned as she let go of the sheets and laced her fingers with his. “I told you how I loved talking with you, just sitting, just being. Loved the way you listened.”
He tried to hold on, but he couldn’t help spinning out of control, rocking them both across the bed, keeping her hands tightly laced in his, the spasms of her body turning him mindless.
“I told you—” Then he couldn’t remember anything else.
Except that he’d made the wrong choice long ago. At long last, he’d finally made the right one.
Paige was everything he could ever want, everything he could ever need. He was the luckiest guy in the world that she could still want to be with him after all the ways he’d screwed up.
But would the heat, the joy, the power of their connection, be enough to erase the mistakes—and the darkness—of his past?
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Whitney’s lawyer was a shark, complete with big white teeth and fleshy lips large enough to hold them all. Randall P. Craig smiled with evil glee as he pushed duplicate copies of Whitney’s new demands to Evan and his lawyer across the wide expanse of the conference table.
She was dressed for performance in a couture suit, her lips painted a deep red that would leave marks on a man’s skin. Just the way her nails would. And her lies.
She dabbed at the corner of her eye with a small silk handkerchief that Evan was sure Randall P. Craig had provided for just this purpose. He also noticed a lipstick stain on her teeth. She’d be horrified, so he didn’t tell her. It was petty but liberating.
“Due to Mrs. Collins’ emotional distress after learning of her husband’s perfidy—” Evan could barely hold back an eye roll at Randall’s description. “—my client is asking for damages in addition to her rightful fifty percent. We believe one hundred percent would be just recompense. After all, Mr. Collins has been sleeping with her sister.” Randall infused as much shock and horror as he could into the word. “Probably for years.”
Evan’s lawyer, Henry Gerhardt, was the best of the best in divorce court. Miles better than Whitney’s lawyer would ever be. Henry hadn’t been thrilled to find out that Evan and Paige had begun a relationship, even if it hadn’t started until New Year’s Eve, long after the divorce papers had already been filed. Knowing his lawyer would need to be armed with all the information, Evan had explained everything, from the wedding weekend at Susan and Bob’s, to Whitney spying on them at Paige’s condo.
Evan knew what Henry would have said if he’d asked for advice. That Evan should leave Paige alone until the divorce was final. That it was the only way to keep her safe from the ugliness.
Evan hadn’t asked, and Henry hadn’t offered. Likely because even the lawyer could see it was way too late for that. Evan couldn’t stay away.
Paige made him feel too good. And not just because of their incredible lovemaking, but simply being with her.
Yes, he’d had wickedly sexy dreams about Paige. But he never would have acted on those dreams, not in a million years. Not until Whitney blew up their marriage.
He’d be damned if he’d let her mess with his life or his happiness again. He’d already given her too many years. Now he wanted to be with Paige. And if their relationship fell apart, it for damn sure wouldn’t be because of Whitney.
It would be because Evan screwed it up.
God help him, he didn’t want to mess up. Not with Paige. Not this time.
At least where Whitney was concerned, Evan would—finally—make all the right moves. Last night, he’d gone through his inventory of artwork and valuables and determined everything she’d taken. If Whitney wanted a fight—and she obviously did—she was on.
“Do not bring your sister into this.” His words and demeanor were calm, despite the fury burning in his gut over the way Whitney dared to hurt Paige.
“You brought her into this,” Whitney snapped. “I saw you kissing her. You disappeared into her condo and came back out with that look you get after sex.”
They both knew he’d never had that look with her when they were married. What he shared with Paige was miles beyond simple physical release. “Long before I ever kissed Paige, I found out you’d lied about three miscarriages and a tubal ligation you never even bothered to discuss with me.”
Whitney would never get one hundred percent of his holdings. She wouldn’t even get fifty. He’d meant it when he told Paige that he’d hand over every penny just to protect her—but he knew Whitney, and even if he gave her everything he had, she would still stop at nothing to destroy her sister.
Whitney sniffed, affecting the injured party again, just as her lawyer said, “We could argue about this all day, but there is an alternative. Mrs. Collins will forgive everything you have done and you will agree to forget all your alleged claims against her—if you reconcile.” He spread his hands. “Problem solved.”
Evan shouldn’t have felt like the floor had opened up and his chair had plunged eighteen floors to the marble lobby of Hart, Pool, and Gerhardt. He should have known this was coming. That Whitney would think of the most devious way to play this out.
Not to mention the most hurtful to Paige.
“We could start fresh, Evan.” Whitney looked at him with watery eyes. “The past would all be erased. Wouldn’t you like that? To go back to the way we were in the beginning? Before Paige came between us? We were so in love. We can have all that again. That’s what I really want. And I know, in your heart, you do too.”
At long last, the shock wore off and his brain started working again. He licked his own teeth, then pointed at hers. “You’ve got some lipstick on your teeth.”
Looking horrified, she reached for her mouth to rub it off.
He could have gotten nastier. He could have told her to go screw herself. He could have said that she was the last woman on planet Earth that he would ever consider touching again. He could have made it clear that he’d rather be celibate for the rest of his life than get back together with her.
But he was a Maverick. And he knew better than anyone how to control a negotiation.
Even when he was sitting across from the devil.
“I’m going to pass.”
She stared at him a moment, as if she couldn’t even begin to fathom that he would turn her down. It was her turn to plunge eighteen floors.
Her eyes narrowed, and her lips pressed into a thin line as the real Whitney came out to play. “Then I will drag your lover, my sister—” She stabbed her chest with a pointed finger. “—who you’ve been screwing behind my back, through the mud. I will ruin her career. I will destroy her.”
It was his worst nightmare. That Whitney would hurt Paige again. And that she would annihilate
anything he and Paige could have together.
His hands were starting to tense when he stopped. Breathed. Thought of Paige.
Paige, who was as caring as Susan.
Paige, who’d only ever tried to help him.
Paige, who had remained his friend through everything.
Paige, who had risked opening her heart to him completely.
Paige, who was fearless. Magnificent.
And who loved him.
“Two can sling mud,” he said in a deliberately soft voice. “Do you really want your friends and all of San Francisco high society to know why I left you? The gossip magazines would have a field day with that.”
She eyed him like he was a rattler she’d suddenly found coiled at her feet. “It’s your word against mine,” she said, but her tone wasn’t quite so haughty anymore.
Keeping his gaze on her, he held his hand out. “Henry, the folder, please.”
Henry was perfectly professional as he fished a folder out of the stack in front of him and laid it in Evan’s hand. Still, his lawyer couldn’t quite contain the gleam of victory in his eyes.
“You really shouldn’t have left a paper trail.” Evan set the closed folder on the table in front of him. “And you shouldn’t piss off people who might later be willing to testify against you.”
Her face turned a sickly shade of pale.
“While I was out of the country, Henry was hard at work on my behalf. It’s amazing how much documentation he found regarding the little lies you told.”
“Now just a minute,” Randall P. Craig started to bluster. Not so much of a shark anymore, was he?
Evan put his finger to his lips. Then he turned back to Whitney. “The divorce settlement is already more than generous. I’ve even decided to throw in the Atherton house in exchange for the San Francisco flat. You can keep all the artwork you stole while I was away, except the Dali. I suggest you take this offer. Or you won’t have anything left when you lose. Nothing at all.” He gave her a long look. “Because, make no mistake, Whitney, if you want to fight, I will fight.”