Sir's Redemption (Doms of Decadence Book 8)

by Laylah Roberts

  “I didn’t. He did. Or I think he was going to. That’s why he called. I hurt him. I kept stuff from him. I messed up.”

  He ran his thumb over her cheek, and she realized she was crying. “He’s not worth your tears. Whatever you kept from him I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as what he kept from you.”

  The humiliation and pain went deep. She needed to be alone. “I think I need to sleep now.”

  James stared at her for a moment, and she thought he was going to refuse. Then he nodded and stood. “I’ll go check out this stuff and see what you need. I’ll check on you in an hour or so.”

  “Sure. Thanks.” He could do whatever he liked. Right now, she didn’t care about anything but the pain of losing the man she loved. She realized in that moment she’d still thought there was a chance to change things between them. To earn back his trust. But now he’d ruined that. Ripped things apart. In the morning, she might feel angry about it, at him. Right then, she just felt sorrow.

  12

  James stirred when she moaned. He sat up, nearly groaning as his body protested sleeping in the armchair. Although he kept himself in shape, he was over forty and had long since passed the days of being able to sleep anywhere.

  He watched Kinley for a moment as she thrashed her head back and forth. Getting up, he laid his hand on her forehead, frowning to feel that it was still warm, but she instantly quieted under his touch, the way she had the other times he’d been woken by her cries.

  A sense of satisfaction filled him. Knowing he could soothe her. That he was the one taking care of her now. He’d never really understood why Sloan had always enjoyed taking care of Sarah. Oh, he’d taken care of her too, in his own way. He’d provided her with everything, clothes, food, holidays, whatever she’d needed, she’d had. He’d pleasured her, dominated her, but he’d never been one for aftercare. Sloan had loved aftercare, so he’d always left it to him.

  He realized that might have been a mistake. He was beginning to see what Sloan had given her was much more meaningful. It built a connection. One he hadn’t been a part of with Sarah. He’d kept a distance from her, not wanting to get too close. Ultimately that had cost him everything.

  He brushed Kinley’s red hair off her face. Even ill and asleep, she was beautiful. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes he’d made with Sarah. That fool boyfriend of hers had thrown away a gem, and James firmly believed in finders keepers. No, she wasn’t getting away from him. He’d pamper her, cherish her, and take care of her in all ways. He waited for panic at that thought. After all, he’d lost everything once. If he laid himself bare with Kinley, he could lose it all again.

  Only if you let it happen.

  Things would have to be different. He would have to be different. But, then, wasn’t he already? He couldn’t think of anyone else he’d ever take care of this way. Where he would sacrifice his own comfort for theirs. Even now, he could be sleeping in his own bed. Instead, worried about the way she kept crying out, he’d moved a chair in to keep an eye on her. He’d been taking her temperature, watching over her. Worrying.

  If her boyfriend had been worthy of her, he would have stepped aside. Would have kept his distance. But he wasn’t. And now she was James’s.

  “James, I’m getting up today.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  She gave him a firm look. “Yes, I am.”

  The first day, she’d been too sick to protest his domineering ways—sick and heartbroken. The next day, she’d resolved she was leaving, but her determination had waned beneath his firm dictate that she was staying where she was. Truthfully, she hadn’t fought too hard.

  Being taken care of by James was like . . . well, it was hard to describe, but having someone as charismatic and powerful as James focus on her went straight to her head like a glass of champagne, not that she’d ever tasted real champagne. But it was flattering, it made her feel important, like she meant something to him.

  Which is why she needed to get away from him. Because she could get used to this. And she shouldn’t. He wasn’t hers. Never would be. She had to get back to her real life, which certainly didn’t consist of lying in expensive sheets on a mattress that had to be softer than clouds while a gorgeous man waited on her hand and foot.

  She’d honestly expected him to take her home that next day. There was no way he didn’t have more important things to do than take care of her. But he’d simply waved off her concerns and brought his work into her bedroom, using his laptop and phone to conduct business. It made her feel special.

  Yes, she could definitely get used to this. And that was a bad, bad thing.

  She placed her spoon down on the tray. He’d brought her chicken soup. On a tray. And while it wasn’t as good as her mother’s recipe, it was still delicious. But there was no need for him to wait on her anymore. She was capable of getting up and looking after herself.

  “Eat your soup.”

  “I’m full. Thank you, it was delicious.”

  He leaned back and raised an eyebrow. “If you can’t eat a whole bowl of soup, I don’t believe you’re well enough to go home.”

  “My fever has broken, I haven’t vomited since that first night and I can go to the bathroom alone.” Thank God. “I’m fine.”

  “We’ve got vastly different ideas of fine, sweetheart.”

  She loved when he called her sweetheart. But it was so inappropriate. She’d already made up her mind to quit her job, it didn’t feel right to work for him any longer, not after this. Which kind of sucked because this job had been perfect. She’d just have to find something else once she was feeling better.

  Frist, though, she had to convince James she was well enough to leave. The man was amazingly stubborn. “I need to go home, James.”

  “Why?”

  Why? Good question. Maybe she should claim she had a cat who needed feeding. But then he’d probably send poor Roger over to feed the imaginary thing. She’d never met Roger, but he’d been sent on a number of errands to get everything from a thermometer to aspirin and chicken soup to electrolyte drinks. She was starting to wonder if James did anything for himself. She guessed when you were as rich as he was you didn’t have to do mundane things like go to the grocery store or pharmacy.

  No, best not to make up some imaginary excuse. James seemed rather adept at reading her lies. And, mistakes with Sloan aside, she tried not to lie as a rule.

  “I just think it’s time to go home,” she told him. “I appreciate everything, but I’m not your responsibility.”

  “You could be.”

  Um . . . what? “What do you mean?”

  He reached for the tray and pulled it off her lap. She fought the ridiculous urge to grab it and hold onto it like a shield. Like the tray was going to save her from whatever he had to say.

  So, she didn’t say a word as he placed the tray on the floor then moved to sit next to her on the bed. She swallowed nervously, her mouth dry. He placed his hand on her thigh. “I didn’t intend to say anything yet. Not when you’re still recovering from being so ill.”

  “It was just a virus, James.” His concern had been touching, if a little more intense than she would have expected. But then he’d admitted he’d never taken care of someone before. She wondered at that. Surely, he’d had long-term relationships before. He was forty-two. Hadn’t any of his old girlfriends gotten sick? What had he done then? Hired someone to care for them?

  He rubbed his thumb over her thigh, and she tried not to react, to not show how much it affected her. What would it be like if he touched her skin? She needed to stop this. Even if things were over with Sloan, she still felt like she was betraying him by feeling something for James. Eventually, she’d have to speak to Sloan if she wanted to move on.

  God, how am I going to move on without Sloan? These past few weeks without him had been torture . . . knowing she’d never touch him again, never hear him laugh, never have him hold her tightly. She drew a deep breath, trying to keep her composure, outwardly at least.
On the inside, she was sobbing.

  James was frowning. “You had a high temperature. I still think you should have seen the doctor.”

  “There’s nothing the doctor could have done that you didn’t. Really. But I need to go home.”

  “What if I wanted this to be your home?”

  All right. Now things were just getting weird. Well, weirder.

  James huffed out a laugh. “You’re looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.”

  “Haven’t you?”

  He studied her. “No. Actually, I’m thinking very clearly. Kinley, I know you don’t know me well—”

  “Exactly, we don’t know each other well—”

  “Please don’t interrupt me until I’ve finished.” His voice was gentle enough, but there was a core of steel in it that had her quieting immediately. Not for the first time, she wondered if James was a Dominant. He certainly had the power voice down pat.

  “I was going to say that even though you haven’t known me long, I think we’ve made a connection that I’ve failed to make with women I’ve known for months. I’ve never once felt the urge to take care of someone else the way I’ve looked after you this weekend. Part of that is due to trying to learn from past mistakes, but most of it is you. Since the first night I met you, I’ve struggled not to think about you. Spending time with you quickly became the highlight of my day and when you weren’t here . . . well, I moped. I made you clean my office for the excuse of seeing you. I searched you out the other night not because I was mad my office hadn’t been cleaned but because I was mad you weren’t there. That I didn’t get to see you, talk to you, or argue with you. In short, Kinley, I care about you. I think you’re special. I think we could be good together. That you could be good for me. I’m not going to lie and say I’m a good man, I’m not. I have issues. I’ve got baggage. I like control. It keeps me centered and focused. But I’m trying not to be the selfish man I once was. To learn to put others first. I haven’t always done that. If I see something I want, I usually take it. Normally, no one tells me no.” Yeah, she figured there were very few people who said no to him.

  “I want you, Kinley. In my bed, yes. But also in my life. I didn’t expect to ever want another woman full-time. But then I never expected to meet you.”

  They were pretty words. Flattering, and, oh, so tempting. But she couldn’t do it. But how to tell him without hurting him? And the fact she hated the thought of hurting him told her how much she cared about him too. But she just couldn’t. “I feel something for you too.” He tightened his hand on her thigh.

  “But I can’t do it. I’m sorry. My life is a mess. I can’t get involved with you, James. I just can’t.” The last word was more of a sob, and she immediately found herself pressed against his warm chest, his scent teasing her, his arms strong and firm around her.

  “You loved that bastard, didn’t you?” His voice was hard to read, but when she tried to pull back to look at his face, he held her tighter.

  “Yes.” No matter what he’d done, she’d loved Sloan, still did, and she wasn’t ready for someone else. Not now. Not for a long time. Because you didn’t get over someone like Sloan quickly.

  James sighed then pulled back. There was a look of regret on his face before something else entered his gaze. Determination.

  Uh-oh.

  “My timing’s off,” he murmured. “Rather clumsy of me, really. I’m usually much better at negotiations.”

  She frowned. “This isn’t a negotiation. We’re not talking about a business deal.”

  He waved a hand. “No, of course not.” A calculating look entered his eyes. She’d never seen him look like this before. As though he were a hunter who’d just spotted some nice, juicy prey.

  “All right.” He sat back in his chair.

  “All right, what?”

  It was kind of juvenile of her, but now that she’d gotten him to back off, she felt miffed he wasn’t fighting harder. That he’d given up so easily.

  Grow up, Kinley. Be thankful he isn’t making a big deal about it.

  “I’m going to give you what you want.”

  “You are? Oh, okay.” Stop feeling so rejected, this is what you wanted. “Could you grab my clothes then?”

  He frowned and she knew he was going to protest but there was no way was she staying here. Especially not now. “James, I want to go home. Thank you for everything, but I’m much better now.”

  James sighed. “One could wish you weren’t quite so stubborn.”

  She smiled despite herself. “I could say the same about you.”

  13

  Where was she?

  Sloan paced up and down his living room. He glanced down at his phone for the hundredth time. Nothing. Each time he tried to call her it went to voicemail. He’d left several messages. He grimaced. Some of the later messages had been a bit curt. He guessed he couldn’t blame her for avoiding his calls, he’d cut her off entirely.

  But he’d never thought she’d turn the tables on him. Fuck. He hadn’t handled any of this very well, and now she was so furious at him she wasn’t answering his calls or messages. And she wasn’t at home. So, where was she?

  What if something had happened to her? She didn’t have family here. No one from the club had heard from her. And he didn’t know if she had any other friends. Shit. He should know if she had other friends. Should at least know their names. He’d messed it all up.

  And now you’ve lost her because you were scared. Scared of how much she was coming to mean to you. Scared you might somehow lose her. And the moment she gave you an out, you took it and ran.

  And didn’t that just bite? Big man like you, scared of your feelings for Kinley. Alex had been right. Not that he intended to ever tell the smug bastard that. He was already insufferable.

  Screw this. He was going back to her place. She had to turn up sometime today, surely. And he intended to be there when she did. He was going to make her listen to him. He’d do whatever was needed to make her see that what they had was too important for either one of them to throw it away.

  The flowers on the doorstep made her pause. They had to be for someone else. A mistake made by the delivery company. Unless . . . she looked up at James, who had stopped next to her.

  “Wasn’t me,” he told her, easily understanding her unspoken question. “I’m kind of surprised they’re still here. I’d bet not much remains in place unless it’s locked down around here.”

  She let out a puff of air. She’d been listening to him complain about where she lived the entire ride over here. Enough was enough. “It’s not that bad.”

  “Right, and I’m sure some people said the plague wasn’t that bad.”

  “I don’t think anyone said that.” She resisted rolling her eyes. Barely. At least he hadn’t mentioned moving her to another apartment again. She’d told him exactly what she thought of that. Although, she got the feeling that wasn’t the end of things. Sloan was a bulldozer, you definitely saw him coming. James was a wolf, a hunter, and too damn smart for her own good.

  It wasn’t happening. She wasn’t a charity case. She got that James liked to control everything around him. She was not one of those things. But wouldn’t you like to be?

  Nope. No way. Give him an inch, he’d take a mile. She’d been too weak to resist him when he’d insisted on taking care of her, but she was feeling better now. Well, sort of. There was still a sick feeling in her tummy, but that had more to do with her life than the virus.

  “They must be for someone else.”

  “Maybe your boyfriend regrets throwing you away.”

  “He didn’t throw me away.” She wasn’t a bit of garbage to be discarded.

  He sighed and reached for her arm to still her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be hurtful.” She nodded, mollified.

  “I just can’t believe he’d be stupid enough to risk losing you by sleeping with someone else.”

  Neither could she. She’d never have thought Sloan capable of cheating on her.


  She realized she still hadn’t asked James how he knew. “You never did tell me what you heard him say or when you overheard him,” she said as she leaned down to grab the flowers. “Oh, good, there’s a card. It’s got my address on it.”

  “Why don’t you give them to me while you unlock the door?” James suggested, his voice sounding a little strange. But she couldn’t work out what was bothering him. That small walk from the car to her apartment had tired her out. And she was trying desperately not to show him that. Last thing she needed was for him to change his mind and whisk her back to his apartment.

  The more time she spent around him, the harder it was to resist his charms. And now that he’d stopped being such an ass, it was all too easy to like him.

  Kinley handed off the flowers and opened the door with a hand that shook. Crap. She hoped he didn’t notice. As she walked inside, a musty smell hit her. She immediately went around and opened the windows. Shame filled her as she looked around at her studio apartment. Everything in here had come from a thrift store. She’d sold all the furniture she’d bought when she was with Eddie to pay the deposit on this place. Anything left had been placed directly on her credit card bill. Not that it had made much of a difference.

  Before she did something stupid, like apologize, she reminded herself that while her place might be crappy and cheap, especially compared to his apartment, at least it was clean. She straightened her shoulders.

  “What is that damp smell?” he asked.

  “It’s an old building, and I think the plumbing system needs work.” She wouldn’t tell him about the leaks in the ceiling when it rained. He scowled but before he could say something, she grabbed the flowers from him and placed them on the kitchen counter then pulled out the card and opened it.

  “What does it say? Is he trying to apologize with flowers? Doesn’t he know how cliché that is?” She gave him a sharp look. Then she read the message again, a little confused.

  “Well?” James asked impatiently. He came over to read over her shoulder.