by Lynn Carmer
“What a good idea! I would be more comfortable sitting with them. Why don’t y’all join me? In the sitting room.”
Dare waited impatiently for the group to stand, determined to escort them wherever they needed to go, so he could get back in that office and confront The Devil.
What the hell kind of name is The Devil?
“No, don’t get up, Scarlett. Dare can’t possible walk the whole group of us together. I’m sure Dare won’t mind leading us back, one by one. Wouldn’t want anyone to fall and break a hip. You wouldn’t mind, would you, Dare?”
The niggling doubt exploded into full-blown suspicion over Ms. Hattie’s behavior. “You wouldn’t be trying to keep me out of that office, would you, Ms. Hattie?”
The large woman with the lined face that showed every hardship she’d experienced over a very long life, smiled serenely. “No idea what you’re talking about, dear.”
Just before he blew his top, the doorbell rang. The four note siren gave him the opportunity he needed to distract the crafty octogenarians. “Ms. Hattie. I’ll be with you as soon as I can. Please sit down with your friends and let me get the doorbell for you. If you’re feeling so weak, there’s no way you can make it all that way.”
Her smile faded. “But—”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be back as soon as I can. Please, take a seat.”
“Hurry back.” The small group huddled together, no doubt scheming up another plan to distract him. As soon as he answered the door, he’d make a detour to Mr. Brown’s office, and then eventually return to help Ms. Hattie, if she still needed it. He said he’d return as soon as he could. He needed to have a little chat first with the infamous Devil.
He swung open the heavy oak door and stood blinking, eye to eye, with a man who looked to be in his mid-forties, with a large bouquet of flowers and a shopping bag in hand. The bag was baby blue, small and looked really fancy, like the kind you see on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills.
The guy greeted him with a blindingly white smile; Dare stood and waited. He hardly noticed the perfectly ironed dark blue jeans, soft blue sweater with collar and tie underneath. Nope. He wasn’t interested in the outside trappings that screamed money. He was checking out the medium build, the slight paunch, and the way the man’s gaze never really met his.
Lessons from his past: size up your opponent, find his weakness, use it to your advantage. And there was no doubt in his mind that this man was an adversary. He knew. He knew with one look that this was the guy who’d stolen Caelen’s heart.
The quick perusal told him everything he needed to know. In two seconds, he could take him. Flatten him. Knock him out with a punch. An elbow to the face. His vow of peace, taken the last time he’d seriously hurt someone in a bar fight, might not even save this guy. Caelen, in tears on her bedroom floor, had cut him in half… and now he was face-to-face with the guy responsible for her pain.
But she’d made him promise. Just like Janie had. Why were all the women in his life defending these assholes?
He wanted to take him out so bad, his fists clenched. To calm himself, he drew in long deep breaths. Suddenly, having to work with the prick who cheated with his wife seemed like child’s play compared to how bad he wanted to end this guy.
“Hey, man. I’m looking for Caelen. She here?”
Dare didn’t bother to answer. Instead he stepped forward, closing the door behind him with a soft snick. No need to involve The Ladies. Standing with crossed arms and narrowed gaze, he waited for this loser to make a move.
Wonder how long it takes him to figure out he isn’t making it through this door, even if he hotwires a Mac Truck?
Chapter 30
‡
CAELEN RUSHED INTO Mr. Brown’s office, Dacey a few steps behind. As predicted, Athena was seconds away from throttling the tall man. The Devil stood with his hands on his hips, behind the giant Mahogany desk, acting as if he owned the place.
Athena was leaning on the desk, both palms face down, with a scowl only matched by the man who stood across from her. Brynn stood to the side, her arms crossed, waiting. When she took the time to actually study him, Caelen gasped. There was something so striking about his face, and then she realized it was the ice-blue eyes that caught her attention. They could have been a matching set to Ms. Belle’s. And the rest of him, was… stunning.
He really is a handsome devil.
Like Rob Lowe in his twenties, beautiful. Like the prettiest man she’d ever seen in the flesh. He was tall and slender, with black hair, fair skin, and those lovely, lovely eyes framed by lashes that seemed to stretch down the street. The only thing that should have made him look like a nerd was the black-rimmed glasses perched on his impossibly straight nose, but even those seemed to lovingly frame his face.
“Oh my God.” Dacey placed her hand against Caelen’s arm. “He’s gorgeous.”
“I noticed.” Luckily, Caelen had a thing for busted noses and plump lips. She also noticed this guy had a lean strength that was dwarfed by Dare’s bunched shoulders, so she recovered relatively quickly.
Dacey, on the other hand, looked like she was in a waking coma. “So pretty,” she whispered.
“Beg pardon?” The Devil spoke directly to Dacey, who finally seemed to snap out of her haze when he asked the question.
“Are you English?” Athena asked as if it were one more crime to add to his growing list of misdeeds.
He adjusted his frames with a push of one finger. “No.”
Athena looked to Dacey and raised a brow. “This true?” There was no doubt in everyone’s minds that Dacey had all the “down and dirty” on this guy.
“He lived in England until he was twelve years old, but he was born in America. I was hoping he still had some of the accent left. Although, it’s really more the phrasing of your words rather than the way you say them.”
The Devil looked livid. “That is none of your business.” His eyes swung over to Dacey, and he froze for a moment, his breath catching in his throat. Her baby sister’s cheeks blushed from the attention. Willem adjusted his glasses and then narrowed his eyes. “Wait. Why did you say you hoped I still had an accent?”
“Because, obviously it ramps your hotness factor up to, like, the nth degree,” Dacey said with a huge smile on his face.
The Devil looked genuinely confused. “My hotness factor?”
Athena snapped her fingers and broke the spell. “Eyes up front, pretty boy. Please explain to me in two seconds flat why I shouldn’t call the cops and have your lily white ass hauled straight out of this school.”
“Because I have every right to be here. More right than any of you.” He laser-beamed each sister with crystal, blue clarity as he said, “I’ve decided to take back what’s mine.”
“And this school is yours?” Brynn asked softly. “Why?”
“Because Belle Charles was my grandmother, and by law I have the right to claim my inheritance.
Athena stilled and Brynn looked back at Dacey and Caelen. “Why aren’t you two reacting? Did you know about this?”
“Dacey just told me his name five minutes ago. I put the pieces together.”
“I found out this morning. That’s what I was trying to tell you guys. But I much prefer person to person explanations, though, don’t you?” She addressed the question to Willem who just blinked. As was usual with most of the human population, he seemed to have no idea how to deal with Dacey.
“I assume you have something in writing to back up these claims?” Athena leaned back from the desk, murder still lurking in her gaze.
Caelen’s heart sank and the fragile hope that had bloomed sank lower than her toes. “Just look at his eyes, Athena. It’s like seeing Ms. Belle all over again.”
“Don’t say that! You’re going to give me the skeevies. There is nothing about that tall drink of water that reminds me of Ms. Belle. Nothing.” Dacey elbowed her sister while continuing to stare at The Devil.
“I’m going to need more proof than his baby
blues,” Athena demanded.
The Devil looked temporarily confused, his head bopping back and forth from one sister to the other, as if having a hard time keeping track. He seemed to latch onto the menial task of retrieving his proof, with both hands. He quickly reached into a soft leather briefcase slung over one shoulder, and pulled out a stack of paper. “This is just the beginning.”
Athena reached forward and started to flick through the pages.
“What interest do you have in this school? What do you really want?” Brynn’s head was tilted slightly to the right, studying him intently. Caelen knew she’d have all sorts of interesting comments about him when they pow-wowed after the meeting. Her observation skills were legendary.
“I want what is owed me.” He slammed a hand against the desk, his breathing uneven.
“Dacey?” Caelen addressed the question to her hyper sister, hoping beyond hope that she had something they could work with. Something they could fight this with.
“According to what I’ve uncovered, his father was given up for adoption over sixty years ago. As far as I can tell, ol’ blue eyes, over there, only found out about Ms. Belle recently. I think some of the sour grapes might have to do with the fact that he only discovered his grandmother after she’d died.”
Caelen actually started to feel some sympathy for him until he started spluttering and getting all red in the face. “What the hell do you know about it?”
“He’s not so hot anymore, is he?” Athena smirked but continued to rifle through the paperwork.
“What do you mean? Look! His muscles are getting all bulgy, and the red of his cheeks is making his eyes look even bluer.”
“You’re all bloody mad. It doesn’t matter why, does it, when it comes down to it? All you need concern yourself with is that I will tie this school up in knots until I get what I want. And I always get what I want.”
“Are you having a tantrum?” All four girls started to laugh in response. It was never smart to take them on together. They could shred a man to pieces in seconds, especially a whiny baby like him.
“Am I having—Did you just—?” He ran both hands through straight dark hair, took in a deep breath, and narrowed his eyes. “I am going to make you pay for that.”
The door opened with a whoosh, and Ms. Hattie barreled through the tight space. Not even bothering to acknowledge anyone in the room, which was a serious manners no-no, she zeroed in on Caelen, her breathing labored.
“Ms. Hattie. What’s wrong? Do you need to sit down?”
Athena looked up again and shot Willem a dirty look. “I knew it. I knew it! It’s the stress of him showing up, isn’t it? I swear to God, I don’t know what kind of upbringing you had, but Ms. Hattie is like family, and if you’ve upset her—” The threat was left hanging in the air. “Do you get your rocks off by upsetting eighty-year-old women?”
“Eighty-two, dear.”
The Devil suddenly looked distinctly uncomfortable, almost like a lost, little boy. “No, never! Of course not. I didn’t mean to…”
“Well, you did. Just look at her.” Athena swung her arm in a dramatic arc that would have made Vanna White proud. “Do we need to call an ambulance?”
Ms. Belle’s grandson continued to splutter, his face blotchy red. The English Lily suddenly looked quite wilted. “Ambulance? I assure you, it’s nothing to do with me.” His accent seemed more pronounced when he was upset.
Athena made her way toward Ms. Hattie and she winked at the octogenarian, her back to The Devil. Ms. Hattie covered her smile with a weathered hand. How Ms. Hattie loved mischief. “I think,” she took a dramatic pause, “I should be all right. For now.” She glared ominously. “But oh my, yes. I have to speak with Ms. Caelen. Come forward, dear. I couldn’t possibly get up.”
Caelen actually started to worry. Something wasn’t right. “What is it? Are you okay?”
“A private matter, dear. Come close.”
Caelen leaned in, and Ms. Hattie whispered. “You have a gentleman that’s here to see you.”
A wave of worry blanketed Caelen, slowly swelling until it threatened to become a full blown tsunami of panic. She pretended to laugh so the rest of the group wouldn’t get suspicious. Most of them were too busy arguing with Willem, but Caelen did feel Brynn’s gaze dance between the two of them.
“Do you know who it is?” She knew who it was. Please, let me be wrong.
“No. I didn’t get a chance to ask him.”
Caelen frowned. “Why not?”
The old woman wrung her hands in agitation… or delight? “Because Mr. Dare was kind enough to answer the door for me. I tried to get him to take me back to Ms. Belle’s office, but he would hear none of it.”
“Oh no. Nooo…” For a moment her mind blanked. Not one thought filtered through, the tsunami had crested and sheer panic had rendered her dumb, deaf and blind. Somehow she had to make it to the door, without incident or total meltdown.
Have to make it out. Have to save Dare from going to jail after he murders Victor. No, I mean I have to save Victor from being murdered.
She just had to move. Now. The only problem was her expertly fitted dress came right above the knee, not allowing her to take the full-length stride she needed to bolt for the office. Tiny step, tiny step, pause, tiny step…
Damn this dress.
She managed to excuse herself with something that sounded like blahedy, blah blah, but since no one stopped her, she figured it was good enough. Numbness was suddenly replaced by fury. How dare Victor come here? Just when she’d created something good, just as she was on the precipice of making something of herself.
Just when she’d finally gotten close to someone.
Little did she know a too tight dress was the least of her problems.
Chapter 31
‡
“YEAH. I’VE SEEN her.” Dare stood outside Ms. Belle’s school, just at the top of the steps. He stood with his arms crossed, not budging an inch. No way, I’m letting this asshole in. Wonder how long it’ll take him to notice the hostility?
Coming from a dog-eat-dog childhood, it always amazed Dare how clueless some guys were. Every situation, every new encounter of his teenage years, had him asking the question, can I take him or can he take me? It was a lesson too long engrained, and it was a code he still lived by.
This guy? Privilege leaked out of every designer pore, from his Rolex down to his shiny shoes. He didn’t have a clue, didn’t realize that the man in front of him wanted to beat him to a pulp. If that was what privilege caused, Dare wanted no part of it.
“Great.” Moron pushed back his sunglasses, still not bothering to meet Dare in the eye. He took a step forward, up the first step, still about a foot beneath Dare and if he’d kept going, he would have run smack into his chest. Finally, he looked up and frowned. The irritated gesture was quickly replaced by a phony smile. “Is she here?”
“Yup.”
Moron looked down at his watch and squinted at Dare with one eye, a nervous laugh escaping. “You gonna let me in?”
“Nope.” Now he’d gotten his attention.
Moron raked his gaze over Dare, taking in the narrowed gaze and crossed arms. “Why not?” His temper made his words sound shrill.
Dare felt triumphant. This was the real him, not the cheesy con man who thought he could cover everything up with a smile. Dare had no doubt this loser was a captain of industry, probably some kind of hedge fund operator that’d bilked people out of millions. Or would eventually. He was just the type. “Don’t feel like it.”
Moron’s eyes narrowed, but the negotiator was back in place in seconds. “Look, man. I don’t have a lot of time. I’ve got a really important meeting coming up, so I have to make this quick. You understand what I mean?”
Dare didn’t bother to answer. Appealing to common decency didn’t work if the person you were dealing with didn’t feel like being decent. And he didn’t. Not with this prick. Caelen was too important. He would tear down the stars
to make her his. Or to protect her.
Moron gave a tense laugh. “Come on, man, I come in peace. I’m trying to win over my girl. If you could just let me in—”
Dare saw red. “Don’t. Call. Her. That.”
He looked startled. “Don’t call her—What? My girl?” His ground his teeth and got all splotchy in the face, but still hadn’t taken a step forward. “What the hell do you know about it?”
“You did it again. Second strike. Third one’s the charm.” Just give me the excuse. Please give me the excuse. A small part of Dare acknowledged that fighting with Victor would only hurt him in the long run, but surely it would be worth it. The smile on his face froze in place when he remembered his promise. I can’t hit him. He unclenched his hands as the thought filtered through.
Then darker thoughts crept in. Maybe Caelen had asked this douche to come over. Had they set up the meeting? Just because she’d made love to him last night didn’t mean they were together. She’d promised him nothing.
“Or what? What are you going to do to me, asshole?
Where to begin? All of the bloody possibilities flashed like home movies through his overactive mind.
Moron had worked himself into a fine lather, spluttering and spitting. He looked like a rabid Chihuahua. “Do you know who I am? Do you know who I work for? If you so much as lay one finger on me I will have the cops here in seconds to haul your ass off to jail. You hear me?” The idiot continued his rant, crossing back and forth in front of the steps, but never coming closer.
What a coward. All prick, no balls.
Hell. Moron wouldn’t lay a hand on him, and for all of Dare’s rage, he would not strike the man first. He couldn’t go that far back on his principles. And damn it to hell, even if Caelen’d set up the meeting, he didn’t want to go back on a promise. So that just left a lot of chatter. Dare realized the idiot was waiting for a response. He hadn’t even heard half of what he’d said. But he still knew one thing for sure. “You’re still not getting in.”
“I don’t have time for this shit.”
The click of the front door opening and the faint whiff of Caelen’s unique scent, caught his attention. It was all he could focus on. Her smell. He ratcheted up, tighter. What would she do? Who would she choose?