The Corrupt Billionaire COMPLETE Box Set

by Hope, Camilla

  “But you can’t do that, can you?” he challenged. “No way would you have gone to all this trouble if just one little part of you really wanted me to leave.”

  I could see that Peter hoped I might just snap out of it and say that my father had no more power over me. How I wished that were true! I looked into his face and I knew that I would have to work this out on my own. I just couldn’t be with him like he wanted me to be. So I leapt to my feet and started to slam my fists into his chest.

  “Get out!” I screamed. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want you here!”

  Peter wrestled my wrists behind his back, trying to hold me as gently as possible, and we fell back to the bed. And all the bad memories came rushing back as I screamed at the top of my lungs.

  “Just get off of me!” I screamed.

  Peter got off the bed and backed away slowly, as it dawned on him that he might be bringing it all back for me.

  As I stood there glaring at him, I wondered if my father had smashed me into so many pieces that there really was no way out. But I knew that I had to push Peter away.

  “Caroline, I can’t let you go,” Peter choked on the words.

  Peter moved to hold me again but I slapped his face hard, and he wheeled back as I charged towards him and flung the door open wide.

  “Go,” I said in an unsteady voice. “It won’t work. You just… you have to leave me here.”

  “No,” Peter said as he shook his head sadly and tried to take me back into his arms. “I can’t…”

  “I said go!” I said, fixing him with a thunderous look.

  With one great push, I sent him flying into the hallway, and as soon as he hit the hard wall, I slammed the door shut. I shifted the chain into place and watched as Peter tried to open the door. He banged hard on the door and called out my name but I just stood there feeling numb.

  I went into the bathroom and shut the door, desperately trying to shut out the sound of Peter’s voice.

  Chapter Twelve

  Peter crawled towards the door, desperate to get back to her side even as he heard the chain shift into place but the door would not give under his hand. Banging hard and calling out her name, Peter heard her hide away in the bathroom and the sound of another door clicking shut.

  Picturing her weeping and pressing her shaking hands to her ears, Peter thought of kicking the door in when he suddenly thought better of the move. He would only scare her and send her into an even deeper frenzy. He should have seen it, should have been smarter about the whole fucking thing.

  But Nellie had to have keys. And maybe he could unlatch the chain with one push from his finger…

  “Absolutely not,” Nellie said as she downed a healthy helping of scotch and tapped her nails against the reception desk.

  “Nellie, please,” Peter begged. “She’s not thinking straight. You don’t know…”

  “Then let’s say you fill in the blanks,” she said. “Told you I had the time to listen.”

  Even as he feared that Caroline had to be sinking into the abyss with each passing second, Peter let Nellie in on the bare bones of the story, and he watched her lips curl towards her glaring eyes as he relayed the entire gory tale. When his voice was spent and he longed for a sip of her drink, she laid her hand over his with a heavy sigh.

  “Poor sweet thing,” Nellie started. “She’s lucky to be out of all that.”

  That much was true, but this was akin to all the moments without her, fearing that she was fighting something so wicked all alone. Only this time, he was just a few feet away. If Nellie wouldn’t help him bust down the door, he thought, then he’d make his way in through the window, paying no mind to the glass that might slash into his hands. Anything to get back to her.

  “Do you really want to help her?” Nellie asked.

  Looking at her like she was a parallel version of the woman that had so nearly sliced Swanson when the danger was right under her eyes, Peter felt as though he might strike her when she pushed the glass towards his shaking hand and nodded her head.

  “Take your medicine first, honey,” she said gently.

  Needing the drink, Peter felt the scotch burn its way down his throat, and his stomach churned as a sweet haze slowly surrounded his brain. Nellie’s hand made its way to his back, and he met her smile with a desperate groan.

  “What do I do?” Peter asked despairingly. “How the hell am I supposed to help her?”

  “You wait,” Nellie said. “Come with me.”

  She led him back to the closed door, and Peter was hopeful that he’d still see a ring of keys flashing into the air when she pointed towards a chair by the side of the door.

  “What?” Peter asked. “I’m just supposed to like sit here like some stooge?”

  “You’re gonna do what I say,” Nellie cautioned. “You know all too well how I can get when my orders aren’t followed.”

  Somehow Peter managed a smile, and he settled into the chair as Nellie brought him the half empty scotch bottle and a warning.

  “Now you just sit like a good little boy and take it easy,” Nellie continued. “Something tells me that she’ll find her way back to you.”

  Nellie patted his cheek and started to leave when Peter reached for her hand.

  “And if she doesn’t?” he asked. “How long do I have to leave her like this?”

  “As long as she needs,” Nellie warned. “It was an indefinite reservation, right?”

  Sure was, Peter thought. He’d briefed all his restaurant managers and told them he might be away for some time and that he would keep in touch by phone. And he had hoped that he and Caroline might stay here forever. Anything that would make her smile, really smile, again.

  “You better be right about this, Nellie,” Peter said.

  “Aren’t I always?” she replied with a grin.

  She left him with the bottle, and he couldn’t resist the urge to take another drink. It would be nothing to get drunk right on the spot, but Nellie’s point was well made. He had to be ready for the moment when she might… when she had to… call his name and need him back at her side.

  “I’m here, Gypsy,” Peter whispered into the closed door, not knowing but hoping that she could hear him. “But… just don’t take too long.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hating him gone, yet knowing that it was the only way, I hid in the bathroom and thought of slipping into the tub. But before my hand even turned the faucet, I thought of what it was to feel his hands under the water. The bath would be nothing without him, and I peered into the mirror with a hateful glare.

  Every time I looked closer, I saw my father’s face, felt his hands invading my flesh. He had to know that Peter would come for me. Maybe he even knew that the moments when he hurt me were destined to be the last. But he hadn’t gone to all this trouble just to let me fall back into his arms and feel true joy. Now, bath or not, there was no way to wipe the marks away. They were singed into my soul.

  I thought… I really believed… that getting away from the scene of the crime might make it all right. But I was too tried to think straight, and my fingers grazed against the edge of the glass. Should I smash it now? Head back to the bath and slice open a vein? Only the thought that Peter might crack if he found me like that kept me from breaking the glass, and I moved back to the bed with a weary sigh.

  “Peter…” I sighed.

  His name passed through my lips in the form of a whisper. I had half, no, completely expected to find him somehow waiting in the room when I came out of the bathroom. Would I have fallen back into his arms? Would I have raced back to the bath to cut away the finger devoid of his ring? Too many dark thoughts swirled around my brain, and I fell to the mattress, burying my head in the pillow in an effort to stifle my tears. In some ways, this hurt more than my time in the dungeon with Morgan or the moments with my father…

  No, nothing could ever hurt more than that. Even knowing he wasn’t my real father didn’t really help. Because I had trusted him. Be
cause my mother had trusted him. And he had betrayed both of us.

  Turning to my back, I felt my eyelids growing heavy, and I tried to fight against the sensation. Sleep was the enemy. My father still lived in my nightmares, and it was better to stay awake than give into…

  But this was a battle that I was far too tired to win. I closed my eyes…

  I was sitting at the end of a long table in a longer white dress. Staring down the length of my arms, my eyes brightened at the sight of Peter’s ring back where it belonged. As I twisted the band around my finger, I saw it paired with a ring of gold. Having no memory of how it had happened or why, I knew I was his wife, and everything was right. Suddenly I heard the sound of a door pushing open.

  Gypsy?

  And there he was, his face smooth and his hair slicked back as he sauntered forward in a crisp suit and knelt at my side. I smiled into his eyes and kissed his lips. He tasted sweet, and when I pulled back, Peter pressed me into his arms and lowered me towards a bed bathed in candlelight.

  Let me see you. Let me see my wife.

  Eager to oblige, I reached behind my back for the zipper, and I laughed when the catch stuck in place.

  Allow me to help.

  He undressed me gently, and I moaned at the feel of his kisses trailing down my arms as he clasped my hands in his. Everything felt right. Eager for his lips against mine, I twirled around to face him.

  And my heart stopped.

  There she is. Just where she’s supposed to be.

  My father suddenly stood in Peter’s place, and for a second I was too scared to move or even speak. How… why was he here? He… he was supposed to be…

  He pushed me to the bed with a sharp slap, and I screamed through my tears as the white dress was torn from my body. More desperate for Peter than ever, I saw him in every dark corner, appearing and vanishing as soon as I had the chance to blink. When he stopped materializing, I felt my father pushing into me as he drooled into my hair and nipped at my neck.

  From now on, you’re staying where you belong. And you’re going to do what you were born to do.

  Screaming without words, I felt him tear into me, my limbs powerless as I had no choice but to submit to his assault. And it wasn’t my fault. But… but I had sent Peter away when he only wanted to…

  “No!” I screamed.

  Sitting up with a start, I clasped my hands to my chest and felt my heart racing under my fingers. It took me a few seconds to realize that the room was a place that I had shared with Peter and felt safe despite…

  “I wanted to come back here,” I whispered. “I…”

  And when I had said it, I had hoped that he would work his magic just like before. The chance would have been his for the taking had I not started to grow scared on the plane and pictured him having to spend the rest of his life looking after me. He deserved better than that, and I crawled back to the bathroom. Standing before the mirror again, I made the move to smash the glass when I saw my father‘s image over my shoulder.

  You can’t get rid of me. You don’t want to.

  Real or not, the figure’s lips still curled into a smirk, and I nearly felt the hands pushing into my back.

  “No. No you’re not going to touch me anymore!” I yelled.

  Breaking the glass, I still saw my father, his face laughing as I pushed the sharp shard into his chest. He seemed too stunned to speak as the blood started to fall to my feet, but I smiled when the specter crumbled and started to evaporate into thin air. In my mind I saw him stunned as he reached for me with his mouth wide and his arms outstretched. His hands were grabbing at me, hands that had hurt me and would keep doing that forever if I didn’t put a stop to it.

  “Go the fuck away!” I screamed.

  With one great stab, I thought that I felt the life leave his body, and when he was gone, it was as if the greatest weight imaginable had shifted off my shoulders, and I sank to the edge of the sink with contented cries. In the end, I could still beat him. Maybe that’s why I had to come back to Harrison and be with…

  “Peter! Shit!”

  Scrambling towards the door, I had hardly removed the chain from the latch or turned the knob in my hand when I saw him standing and waiting.

  “You… you waited!” I cried, falling into him.

  “Of course I did!” he smiled.

  “Just come back to me!”

  As I flung my arms around his neck, I sank into the warmth of his embrace and I sighed into his shoulders as I clasped him closer.

  “Peter, I’m so sorry,” I moaned.

  “Gypsy, don’t.”

  “But I can beat him,” I swore. “I… I think I just did.”

  I brought my hand to his face, wanting his kiss to surround my fingers when he flinched as he touched my hand.

  “Why… what did you do?” he asked.

  Seeing the blood on my hands, I hated the fact that he should see me hurt again.

  “I… I stared him down, Peter. And I know now that he won’t hurt me… that he can’t ever hurt me again.”

  Hoping that my words would be enough, I moved aside as Peter stepped into the room. He pulled me inside, closed the door and held my fingers in the palm of his hand.

  “Let me clean you up,” he said gently.

  As soon as he brought me back to the bathroom, I saw him wince when he saw the shattered glass. Would he call me crazy and launch into a million reasons why I should have just let him stay in an effort to avoid the blood? But Peter held his tongue as he snatched a towel from the rack and worked to halt my bleeding.

  “Peter, I… I saw him. In my mind,” I said. “And I got rid of him, I did. I’m not scared anymore.”

  He watched me intently as I pressed my uninjured hand to his face and sighed.

  “Don’t go,” I pleaded. “I think… no, I know I can get through this now.”

  “Really, Gypsy?” he asked, hope swirling across his face as his eyes brightened.

  “Yes. I can.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Nellie bathed and bandaged my hand.

  “You’re just lucky you don’t need stitches,” she said, shaking her head.

  As the blood stopped flowing against the tight gauze, I saw Peter hanging off to the side. Someone called Wayne stepped into the room at Nellie’s order. Clearing the glass away, he stopped in the doorway and sighed hard.

  “You want I should get it fixed for the next guests?” he asked.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Nellie asked.

  “Well I… you always said that we should kick ‘em out if they can’t respect the property,” Wayne said, glaring at Peter.

  Just the thought of being flung out into the night felt cold, but Peter placed his hand on my shoulder as I gazed up into his eyes and smiled at me reassuringly.

  “Wherever we go…” he began.

  “It’ll be okay,” I finished the sentence for him. “As long as you’re with me.”

  “Nothing’s going to stop me now,” he reassured me.

  I forgot the pain still flaring through my hand when Nellie shot up and swiftly snapped her fingers.

  “Now hear this, Wayne,” she said. “These two get a pass. Short of burning the place down, no way, no how that I’m turning them out on the street.”

  “But why?” Wayne asked.

  “Because this here is family,” Nellie replied.

  Those words touched my soul, and as soon as Wayne wandered off, Nellie patted my cheek as I rested in Peter’s arms.

  “Wayne aside, you need to be more careful in future, right?” she said softly.

  I tried to assure her with a nod when she gave Peter a wink and gently pulled on a lock of his hair.

  “Told you that she’d come around,” she said. “Give a holler if you need anything else.”

  As soon as she was gone, I sighed into Peter’s shoulder, happy to have him back, believing that I didn’t have to let him go when he suddenly pulled away from me and stood looking down at me. Stunned
by his shift in stance, I looked warily into his eyes as he clasped my injured hand, his fingers just grazing the wrist above my fresh bandage.

  “Caroline,” he started slowly. “Are you really alright now?”

  “Yes I am!”

  “Because if it gets too much for you to face… if you can’t forgive my past…” he said.

  I tilted my head to the side, tenderly stroking his cheek as I traced the line of his parted lips.

  “Didn’t you hear me?” I asked. “I’m alright now. Truly. Don’t you believe me, Peter?”

  His eyes stayed wide with worry, and I leaned forward to claim his mouth before he could answer me one way or the other. Swirling my tongue around his, hungry to have him back and make everything like it was, I felt him stretch forward, his hands at my sides as he sighed into my lips. His kiss intensified, and I felt him smile as we slipped together onto the bed.

  “I believe you, Gypsy,” he purred as he fondled my face and grazed his nails around my eyes.

  “Were you really just outside the door?” I asked. “Waiting for me to come around the whole time?”

  “Guilty as charged,” he said with a grin.

  “Smart, sexy and sweet,” I said.

  Peter turned to his back, his fingers still stroking my wrist as he pushed his free hand behind his head.

  “Can’t take all the credit, though,” he confessed. “I had a push from Nellie.”

  “Then I’ll give you credit for heeding her good advice,” I said.

  Turning to my knees, I straddled him slowly, my swathed hand at his cheek as my hair spilled across his neck.

  “And you… you would have waited all day?” I asked. “All night?”

  “I’d wait for you forever,” he said huskily.

  My good hand moved to his buttons, and as his chest started to peek into view, I searched his tight flesh for the rhythm of his heart. As soon as I felt it pounding under my fingers, I shifted my hand and kissed the furious pulse, and Peter clasped my body closer and peered into my eyes.

  Peter sighed heavily, his body arching forward to kiss my hair before he grabbed my face and narrowed his eyes.