Zenith Rising (Zenith Trilogy, #2)

by Leanne Davis

  Her breath slowly began to calm down and regulate. Why did he find the simple, every day things about her so goddamn intoxicating and interesting? So she wore hairspray. Why did he care about what it smelled like against him after she sweated during sex? He should have been disgusted and utterly uninterested. He should have pushed her off him. But instead, his lips found the top of her head, and he kissed her, just to inhale the products she used on her hair.

  His hands circled her waist and he squeezed her. She pulled her shirt down. Her skirt fanned around them, hiding all.

  Her head turned, leaning into his shoulder, with her body completely pliant over him, and resting on his chest. He could feel her heat still and his body stiffened while yearning to have her so close. She must have noticed. She didn’t get off him though. She did what she always did: she stayed on him, all cuddled and close.

  The night’s darkness finally descended and they were quiet. They didn’t talk for long time.

  “Erica?”

  “Hmm?” Her voice sounded sleepy.

  “We didn’t use anything.”

  “It’s better without, isn’t it?” she said sleepily.

  He stiffened, and pushed her back. She sat up, slightly startled at his abruptness. “What do you mean?”

  She patted his cheeks. “I mean for me, it feels a lot better without a condom. And don’t worry, you’re dating an Ob-Gyn. I’ve been on birth control since before you could date. And we’re all clean, thanks to Tamira. We both got tested for all the nasty, current STDs. So we’re fine.”

  “You decided this all on your own?”

  “No. I didn’t exactly think this evening would end here. But it did and no harm done.”

  He scowled. “You’re sure?”

  “That I’m on birth control? Yes, I’m sure. You can trust me. I won’t end up pregnant by you, be it real or imagined.”

  It was Erica. Of course, she wouldn’t do that. She had too much sense, too much integrity. The woman didn’t do anything selfish, ever.

  He hesitated and pushed her bottom down so it wasn’t right over him, thereby affecting his thought processes. She shifted her legs eventually and he did his pants up, lifting his butt and squirming around. Still, she stayed on him. He smiled to himself. She always stayed on him, longer than he ever experienced. She cuddled into him, while most of his bed partners would have run away, too scared to stay. She always stayed and demanded his affection.

  “I saw you, you know.”

  “Saw me where?”

  “With Joelle’s baby. I saw you.”

  She stilled, and her eyes closed. She lowered her head. “I know you did.” She didn’t deny her longing and desire for a baby, which Spencer witnessed.

  She shrugged. “It’s not so uncommon, Spencer. At some point, most women want to have a family, and babies of their own. And after bringing countless babies into the world for other women, maybe you can tell me how to keep from wanting one to be mine? Tell me how I can avoid doing that?”

  “I guess you would.” Erica was a normal, beautiful, gentle, caring, whole woman. Of course, she wanted normal things: dating, love, marriage, and her own babies. Of course, she wanted that.

  “I’m thirty-two, so it’s not like I have another twenty years just to figure things out.”

  “I’ll never want a kid. Or get married.”

  “I know. I’ve always known it.”

  “And yet—”

  “And yet, here I am.”

  “Here you are… what?”

  “In love with you.”

  He closed his eyes. She said it again. He felt his lungs closing in, and his breath hitching. He didn’t like it. The pressure, the expectations. What feelings like this did to people.

  He opened his eyes and said, “I’m not in love with you, Erica.”

  She smiled at him and put her hand to his cheek. There she went again, with him being at his most awful, yet she neither believed nor feared him.

  “Yeah, you are, baby. You’re so in love with me, you don’t know what to do with me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Erica watched his eyes shudder, and his expression turned to stone as Spencer retreated into his usual, closed-off self. She was fully prepared for him, yet again, to be impersonal with her.

  “We should go.” He nearly lifted her off him in his attempt to prevent her from getting so close.

  She let him. He had endured enough just opening up to her for one day. One long, exposing day for him. Progress for Spencer like never before. She started her car and glanced his way. He was glaring out the window, with his long arm resting on it.

  Thinking of what? Barry? His mother? The rape? Erica’s knowledge about it? What was he thinking about?

  He suddenly shifted in his seat.

  “How is it you’re so into my secrets, and my past, and you won’t even introduce me to your mother? If you’re so damn okay about being with me, calling me your boyfriend, why don’t you tell me the reason you haven’t introduced your twenty-six-year-old, lower class handyman boyfriend to your mother? Tell me that, Erica Heathersby?” He sneered out the upper crust name of Heathersby.

  Erica took her eyes off the road long enough to give him a look, then returned her focus to the road. “I can’t. She’s dead.”

  His mouth fell open. “Oh. Shit. I didn’t know. I had no idea. You never let on. How? When?”

  Erica shrugged. “When I was ten. She died of ovarian cancer.”

  “Ovarian cancer? Is that why you decided to become a doctor?”

  She smiled sadly. “She’s the reason for everything that I am today. But yes, I studied women’s health because of her. Because of how few ovarian cancers were caught in time, especially back then. Because I nursed her and watched her die in my arms when I was in the fifth grade. I also endured the excruciating pain she suffered before she died. It made an impression.”

  “You were close to your mom?”

  “Yes. She was smart, beautiful, and had a contagious laugh that turned heads. And for all that, she was even a good mother to me. She’d drop everything to spend time with me; taking me to get an ice cream, or fawning over my latest crayon drawing. She was, and is, everything I ever wanted to be.”

  “What about your dad?”

  “Dad? Oh my dad was there. As much as he ever was there for anything.”

  “Distant type?”

  “No. Off in the Caribbean with his mistress-type. His pregnant mistress.”

  “The twins are your half siblings?”

  “Yes. My father married Cora Lynn not even three months after my mother died.”

  “Jesus. That’s cold.”

  “Funny part is: my dad’s not cold. He’s a feckless flake. But loving. He loved me, and my mother even. But when she got sick, he couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t stand watching her losing her hair, and becoming a skeleton. He couldn’t deal with seeing her pain; it was too much for him.”

  “He couldn’t take the pain?”

  She shrugged. “Yeah, I know. But some people can’t rise to the occasion, even when they have to. When humanity demands that you do. He’s selfish, stupid, and materialistic.”

  “Did you stay in contact with him?”

  “Of course, I did. I still am. I was ten years old. He was my father. My mother was dead. I had no one else.”

  “And this Cora, did she move in with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “How could you not despise her?”

  “I did… for years. Once I was old enough to realize that Cora was as stupid and selfish as my father, I accepted that they almost couldn’t help it. They are both pretty people, and erroneously assume that gives them a free pass in life. My mother chose my father, however, knowing that.”

  “Maybe she just liked the Heathersby money.”

  Erica laughed and threw her head back as she said, “It’s my mother’s money. From my mother’s family. My mother is the Heathersby. My father always wanted her money, and made no
bones about that. But he genuinely loved my mom in his own way. I think he admired her for being smart and rich so he just let her do her thing, and all the while adored her. He took my mother’s name, so he could be a Heathersby. He exploited it while trying to be a big man around town, and used it to open every door he could budge or unlock. Scary part was, it worked. My grandfather hired my father to work at Heathersby Shipping. I don’t think my dad lasted a month. Dad preferred to travel, lounge, sun bathe, drink martinis at noon, and dance far into the wee hours of the night. Turned out to be a blessing in some ways, because it allowed my mother to become a brilliant and successful businesswoman, since she had to manage the financial matters. She was happy with the life they shared.”

  “Your father took your mother’s name?”

  “Yes. Crazy, isn’t it? He then turned around and gave Cora Lynn my mother’s name. The children he impregnated his mistress with while my mother lay on her death bed also have my mother’s name.”

  “Holy shit. How do you stand the siblings?”

  She shrugged. “Not their fault. I love them. I genuinely love them. Cam, is eerily becoming my father reincarnated. I hope, since he’s only twenty-two, he’ll eventually grow up, and not be anything like my father. My sister, Morgan, is… well, the complete opposite of me. In fact, she would be like someone you would normally seek. After my mom died, they had the twins and insisted upon continent hopping, so I pretty much raised the twins more than acted like just their sister.”

  “Sounds like you raised them all.”

  “Kind of. Mom put all the money in a trust for me. She set up a yearly allowance for my father upon her death, knowing he’d blow through her millions in a matter of a few years without a second thought. She kept all the money for me since she trusted me more than him. So when I turned twenty-one, it all became mine. Now I control what my father gets, and what the twins get. So yeah, I kind of see to their financial needs.”

  Spencer shifted. “You’re for real? You have control of all your family’s wealth?”

  “Every cent.”

  “Why do you work?”

  “I’m not much of a traveler. I always wanted a life, not a lifestyle.”

  He whistled. “The heiress stuff is real then? You don’t act like it. You act like a doctor. I know you have money from that. I guess I never gave much credence to the Heathersby stuff.”

  “It’s real. I just don’t care. Heathersby Shipping is run by professional managers, I never wanted anything to do with it. I have some cousins who work there, but I never did. I do, however, control the lion’s share of our family’s money.”

  “He took your mother’s name… I can’t get over that.”

  She grinned, relieved to know Spencer found that part the hardest to believe about her family.

  “Yes, well, some people don’t have the kind of integrity you do.”

  He looked over at her sharply. “I don’t have any integrity.”

  “Yes, you do and in large amounts. Just like you have kindness, loyalty, caring, and talent. So much damn talent.”

  He shifted his ass in her car seat. “You’re delusional.”

  She smiled. “Would you like to meet my family? Dad and Cora are back from Venezuela, and the twins are around, I think. Next weekend they’re having a get-together.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It’s just dinner, not an opium den.”

  He sat up straight.

  “Will you come?”

  “Fine,” he grumbled, looking annoyed. She smiled and felt pleased. Second battle she won today.

  ****

  Spencer followed Erica to the front door of the Heathersby mansion, which housed the famous dynasty. Massively huge, with as many floors as the average office building, it appeared very ornate, featuring columns, porches, large, round windows, and a tower on one end that offered breathtaking, distant views of Puget Sound.

  Spencer hated it on sight. It represented all that he knew nothing about. The types of people he wanted nothing to do with. He would have preferred entering prison to entering Erica Heathersby’s family mansion.

  Walking right in, no butlers or maids stood on duty inside. They walked into a ridiculous room of overstuffed furniture, and delicate tables, with knick-knacks and dust collectors scattered throughout the entire gilded, gold and crimson room. Who actually decorated like this?

  “Pumpkin? Is that you?”

  “Yes, Dad, it’s me,” Erica replied, rolling her eyes at Spencer. Then, in walked a handsome man, with graying hair, and perfectly smooth features. Had a little work done? Spencer was sure of it. Erica’s father came toward her, dressed in a tan leisure suit, and striped shirt. He wore expensive loafers on his sockless feet. Hugging Erica, he leaned back, grinning. “You get more enchanting every year, darling.”

  Erica snorted. “Dad, you’re so full of shit.”

  He laughed. “And that’s what keeps the ladies chasing me. Now, who is this?”

  Spencer was expecting to meet an upper crust, uptight, asshole, and not the jovial, grinning, almost stupid-sounding man who Erica so casually called “Dad.”

  “This is my boyfriend, Spencer Mattox. Spencer, this is my dad, Cameron Heathersby,” she said, winking at Spencer as she enunciated his last name.

  Spencer cringed. Twice now, she referred to him as her boyfriend. Was he? Was that what it was? When a guy dated only one woman? And thought obsessively about that one woman? Was it a relationship because he couldn’t even notice other women anymore? Let alone consider screwing them? Was that the reason? Was he really okay with being Erica’s boyfriend?

  “Mr. Heathersby,” Spencer said stiffly, shaking the man’s hand.

  Cameron lunged forward, slapping Spencer on the back. “Shit, man, if you’re dating my beautiful daughter, forget the mister crap. Just call me Cameron.”

  Spencer didn’t like to be touched. Or even shake hands, and now Cameron’s arm was draped around his shoulders. Spencer had never met the parents of a woman he was dating before; and didn’t like any of it so far.

  “So come in, come in. Cora Lynn! Our girl’s here.” Cameron nearly bellowed in Spencer’s ear. Spencer jerked away and caught Erica’s expression as she stood off to the side, laughing at him. He finally cracked a smile. At her. And the situation. How serious she must have thought he was being. And what must she think of being called “Cora Lynn’s girl?”

  “Get ready,” Erica said under her breath, and in the next moment, Spencer knew why. Cora Lynn was a robust woman with bright red hair, too much makeup, faux leopard-skin pants, and a tight, plunging necklined shirt to match. She wore big heels, and bigger hair and a smile as wide as if she were greeting the Queen of England just then. Nothing like the cold, heartless socialite Spencer pictured as having stolen Erica’s dad from her dying mother.

  “Ohhh! Our little darling is back! Gosh! Look at you! Every bit as beautiful as your mama! More so. Oh, come here, girl.” Cora Lynn clapped her hands together like a happy five-year-old seeing her birthday cake. Then she rushed forward, taking Erica into her arms, and pressing her against her massive chest. Spencer was the one smiling at her now. No wonder Erica couldn’t hate her. It would be like hating a clumsy puppy. She seemed too oblivious to suspect that Erica might resent the mentioning of her mother. “And now our house is again complete. The twins are here, and now you. Oh, darling! It doesn’t get much better than this. Guess what we made for dinner?”

  “I can’t guess, Cora Lynn.”

  “We’re having... Wait! Who’s this?” Cora Lynn said as she suddenly spotted Spencer and her eyes widened with delight.

  “This is Spencer, our girl’s boyfriend,” her father said and Cora Lynn smiled.

  “Boyfriend? Erica, you naughty girl, you didn’t mention any boyfriend. Especially, one so handsome. Well come in, let me get a good look at you.”

  Spencer looked to Erica for help. He fully expected to meet a snobby, suit-wearing CEO type, and his cold, proper, tea-sipping
wife. By contrast, he found himself being gawked at, clucked over, and hugged more than once. He was helpless and couldn’t escape it. They didn’t care who or what he was. They were so happy to have him there with “their girl,” they didn’t even notice he was unlike any of Erica’s usual dates.

  Cora called for the twins, and in came Erica’s siblings. Cam was as handsome a man as Erica was a woman. He had the same white-blond hair, and captivating, engaging smile. He was tall and slender.

  Then Spencer met Cam’s sister, Morgan. Spencer instantly knew the type of girl she was: trouble. As Erica told him, Morgan was nothing like her. She was smaller and chubbier with honey-blond hair that she teased around her face, leaving the longest strands to cascade down her back. She had big, blue eyes, and wore only black and white, better suited for her mother, compared to Erica’s classy, fashion-conscious clothing. She was big-boobed, like Erica, and flaunted them to the world by wearing no bra. Her big, half dollar-sized nipples were nearly completely visible through the sheerness of her black top. Spencer kept his eyes fastened on her face, feeling pretty sure Morgan Heathersby was big trouble with a capital T.

  Dinner was casual, loud, and full of boasts at a table fit for any king and queen. The family didn’t fit the mold for the wealth they enjoyed. They didn’t care when sauce fell on their expensive-looking rug, or the rings left by their wine glasses on their amply sized wooden dining table which could easily have accommodated twenty-four people. Spencer was so surprised by the easy, graceful way they interacted with each other and with him, that he couldn’t quite believe they were for real. Dinner was fabulous, and served on mismatched china, while everyone pushed and passed the food around at will and on request. There was no formality displayed whatsoever, either in the serving of the food or when the diners started eating. In fact, their manners were rather atrocious.