Filthy Rich

by Virna DePaul

  “How about Inatesso in about an hour?”

  “Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”

  “Great. I hate to eat pizza alone.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “So it seems pizza was a good idea,” Branden said.

  Cara felt her face go hot. She looked down at the warm slice in her hand. They had been talking about the email Mike found and she hadn’t even noticed that she’d just picked up her third piece. She put it down and glanced around Inatesso, wondering if the other people enjoying gourmet pizza had noticed her shoveling food in her face. But none of the other well-dressed men and women seemed to be paying her any attention. “It’s stress eating. Pizza’s my comfort food. That and Ben & Jerry’s.”

  Branden grinned. “From what I’ve seen, a few pieces of pizza aren’t going to hurt you one bit. Go ahead and eat. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

  “I’m not even hungry. I really am just stressed about this email business.”

  “I understand. But you know you didn’t send that email, and I know you didn’t, so case closed.”

  “Not really,” she said. “Why are you so sure I’m telling the truth?”

  “Because I have a gift for judging people, Cara. You work too hard to color outside the lines.”

  “Well, someone sent the email and now Deena and Mike both know about it, and I don’t think either of them are going to just let it go.”

  “I’ll tell them to stop. No need for them to waste their time investigating you,” he said. “They need to move on and find the real culprit.”

  She frowned. “Branden, it’s not that I don’t appreciate your faith in me, but why aren’t you more concerned? Someone that now works for you sent that email to Mahoney, and that someone and Mahoney both committed a crime. In fact, more than one crime, since it was sent from my email address. And let me emphasize again—that someone almost positively works for you. I mean, I know email can be hacked, but an outsider wouldn’t be as likely to know who to hack in this massive company to get that specific information, right?”

  When Branden nodded, she went on. “I know you want to protect me, and I do appreciate that, but you can’t just sweep it under the rug. I don’t want it to look like we are doing anything inappropriate.” Her mouth twisted. “Any more inappropriate than what we actually are doing.”

  “I didn’t say I’m going to sweep it under the rug. Believe me, I take this seriously, and the person responsible will be caught. But that’s my job, not yours. Promise me that you’ll leave it alone for now.”

  Cara had a sneaking feeling that there was something Branden wasn’t telling her. “I don’t know if I can do that. This is my reputation. Someone wants to shred it by suggesting I slept with the boss. That’s one thing. But framing me for a crime I didn’t commit…”

  “I will find that person, Cara. I promise. You trust me in bed. Trust me in this.”

  An odd feeling, something like panic, worked its way under her skin. Her father had said nearly the same words to her and her mother after he’d been indicted. Trust me—I’m not guilty. I’ll fix this. Her father’s voice echoed in her mind and she shuddered, as if shaking off the ghosts of the past, then quietly said, “I don’t know if I can. Not because you aren’t trustworthy, but because I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. And truth be told, the fact that we have been sleeping together, well…”

  “What?” Branden frowned.

  The waiter interrupted them then, asking Branden if he wanted lunch added to his account. Cara took the time to check her phone for emails or texts—nothing. She knew Iris was busy job hunting, but God, Cara could use her advice right about now.

  Because she had to break things off with Branden. She didn’t want to, but she couldn’t keep hiding behind him. Couldn’t allow herself to accept his protection, especially from whatever was coming her way.

  But as the thoughts entered her mind, tension entered her body. And a sense of longing, of missing, swept over her.

  They exited the restaurant, and instead of heading to the busy street to walk back to D&M, Branden cupped her elbow in his hand and guided her to the alley out back.

  “What are we doing?” she asked, her heel catching on the uneven ground.

  “Hashing a few things out.”

  “In an alleyway?”

  He slid his hand down her arm and entwined his fingers with hers. “No view from above, and we can see if anyone comes around the corner. Little chance of anyone photographing what I’m about to do to you.”

  “And that is?”

  He halted then, and with swift movements, backed her up against the brick wall and slid a hand up the back of her neck. Gripping her hair in his hand, holding her face motionless, he kissed the hell out of her.

  She melted. God, no, this wasn’t what she wanted. What she needed. She’d been considering ending things with him and now he was kissing her senseless.

  On purpose?

  She twisted under his hold and he relaxed his grip on her hair. Pulling her mouth from his, she sucked in a breath before speaking. “I’m not sure this is such a good thing…”

  “You’re not talking about making out in a Manhattan alleyway, are you?”

  She bit her lip. “Branden, I just think that until we figure out who is behind the rumors and photographs and who’s setting me up, I should—”

  He nudged a knee between her thighs and pressed her firmly against the wall with his hips. His erection ground against her belly, and his breath blew wisps of hair off her forehead. “I won’t accept you walking out of my life, Cara. Not because of some external threat that has no basis in fact. You want me. I want you. We’re together. End of story.”

  She struggled to think. “You think it’s as easy as that, do you? You notify me how things are going to be and I’m just going to go along with it?”

  “Yes. Because how I want things to be is how you want them to be, too. You’re just freaking out. Rightfully so, given what’s happening, but if you’d just listen to me and trust me—”

  “You can’t control everything, Branden. Can’t have everything go your way just because of who you are and how much money you have.”

  “You’re wrong. But even if you aren’t, I’m not asking for everything. You’re all I want right now, Cara. Unless you can look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want me, don’t want to explore more of what we’ve had, you’re not walking away.”

  He spoke the words with finality, as if attempting to argue with him would be the same as trying to argue with the brick wall against her back.

  He waited several beats, giving her time to answer. To lie.

  To tell him she didn’t want him.

  When she didn’t, he kissed her again.

  This time, the kiss was sweet. Soft. His lips brushed hers, hesitated, then covered hers firmly. Warmly. As if he was holding back his passion and arousal and simply communicating with her through his lips…communicating that he cared.

  When he pulled his mouth away from hers, backed up a few steps, and shoved his hands into his pockets and simply stared at her, she knew then that she would not be walking out of his life. Not now, at least.

  After lunch, Cara went back to work and Branden went off to do whatever millionaire moguls do during the day. He told her not to wait on him for dinner because he had several meetings lined up for the afternoon that would likely run into evening. She assured him that after three pieces of pizza, dinner would be the furthest thing from her mind. She wrapped up her day around seven and headed for the penthouse. It was a nice night so she walked and on her way she called Iris.

  Finally, after days of not returning texts or calls, her friend answered.

  “Hey! I haven’t heard from you in a few days. I was wondering if you heard anything back from your interview the other day.”

  “I did. That’s why you haven’t heard from me. They actually called me the very next day and I’ve been training ever since. I was scheduled at m
y current job the last two evenings, so I’m exhausted.”

  “Congratulations! I’m happy for you. Am I interrupting your rest?”

  “Nope. I just parked it on the couch and I haven’t moved. I don’t want to, either, so talk to me and give me an excuse to stay here on my butt. I don’t even care that it’s Friday night and I’m dateless.”

  Cara laughed. “So do you like the new job?”

  “Let’s put it this way. I’ve already made more tips in one night than I make all week in Brooklyn.”

  “Good. But you know what that means. You get to pay for the next spa day.”

  “Count on it. So how has your week been? Still having hot, satisfying sex with Mr. Rich and Sexy?”

  Thinking about what she’d been doing over the last few nights, she blushed. “You’re so bad!”

  “I know, but so are you. You’re just bad behind closed doors, right?”

  “I don’t kiss and tell,” Cara told her primly. “But just between you and me, I have never been so satisfied.”

  During Cara’s walk to the penthouse, they caught up on the events of the last few days, then hung up with the promise of getting together for lunch one day in the upcoming week.

  Nolan greeted Cara and called the elevator down for her. When the doors slid open on the top floor, she looked at the wall that had already been completely repaired and she shuddered a bit. Just the idea of someone watching her…It really creeped her out and she had to force herself to shake it off as she went through the dark apartment, switching on lights and checking in corners. Alex swept the corridor and the penthouse daily, but still. When she was confident there was no one about, she took a quick shower, dressed in a comfy nightshirt, and explored Branden’s DVD collection.

  Eclectic, like the man. Pink Floyd’s The Wall, romantic comedies from the 1940s like The Philadelphia Story, some Federico Fellini and François Truffaut, and Caddyshack. She moved from the DVDs to take in his bookshelf. Again, the man’s possessions showed diverse taste. Antique first editions were nestled next to recent bestsellers. Everything from Euripides to Dickens, Laura Hillenbrand to a dog-eared copy of the first Harry Potter book, in paperback. She pulled out a copy of a book on shunga—Japanese erotic woodcut art images—she’d noticed tucked away in a dark recess of the bookshelf, and went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea.

  And to fantasize about doing some of the sexual positions with Branden.

  Because if she wasn’t leaving this situation with him right away, she’d enjoy the hell out of the time they had left to be together. Who knew how long things would last? For now, she was content to be surrounded by him, immersed in him. But she vowed the minute she felt her heart give way…the minute she felt that dumb little flutter girls always talked about when they started to fall in love, she’d bolt. Branden Duke’s reputation was that he wasn’t a forever kind of guy…and she’d never be a forever kind of girl.

  She just had to keep reminding herself of that.

  —

  Branden liked the image of Cara standing in his kitchen wearing only a nightshirt that came down to just below her knees. The light from the buildings outside shone through the blinds just enough to cast her in a luminous glow. She had a cup of tea by her elbow and her nose buried in a book that was perched on the counter. The teakettle was on a back burner, the flame underneath adding a warm, luminescent light.

  “Honey, I’m home,” he called out.

  She gasped and slapped the book shut, then turned and grinned at him. “Cheesy, but cute. How was work?”

  “Fine.” More than fine, actually. He’d received an update from Alex that he’d found Davies, complete with straw hat and loud, ugly Hawaiian shirt, in Punta Cana. Alex had tailed him to a meeting with two men, whom Alex had dubbed Dreadlocks and Surfer Dude because of their distinct appearances, and then followed the other men after they’d left Davies. To no one’s surprise, they’d headed straight to the bank where they’d visited the safe deposit box area. Last he’d heard, Alex was going to attempt to make contact with the men in order to determine the nature of their business with Davies. He’d jokingly told Branden that if he had to light a joint or two to make them talk, he was up for the sacrifice.

  Branden set down the briefcase he’d been carrying and walked toward Cara. “What are you reading?”

  Even under the pale light, her cheeks turned a little pink. “Um…something I found on your bookcase.”

  With a fingertip, he spun the book around so he could see the cover. Then smiled wide. No wonder she’d blushed. “See anything you want to try out?”

  She gasped when he slid a hand up her thigh and shoved the nightshirt up to her hips. “I—I…”

  “Tell me,” he demanded, stroking the side of her very naked hip with his palm, aware how she undulated under him. How she leaned toward him, as if craving his touch. “Tell me, or I’ll step back.”

  “You wouldn’t,” she said, although the word came out almost strangled.

  He cocked a brow and gazed down on her. “I would. Now tell me.”

  “The one where the man is looking at the woman’s…”

  Oh yeah, he knew exactly which woodcut she’d been aroused by. And he’d make that happen for her. But not just yet. For now, he’d simply tease her a little. Make her want him a lot.

  Because he loved that flush on her cheeks. Loved the way she sucked in a delicate breath. Loved how her chest rose up and down in rapid succession.

  Loved knowing he could bring her to ecstasy.

  Leaning down, he pressed his lips to her neck, then slid them up so he could nibble the outside of her ear as he flicked the inside lightly with his tongue. He could feel the goose bumps rise as they ran down her arms.

  He pulled her in closer, settling his hands around her waist. He turned her around and pulled her in for a kiss. She was tense at first, but as his tongue slipped in between her soft lips he felt her relaxing in his arms, and then kissing him back. He ran his hands up and down her back and on the last pass he caught the bottom of her shirt and pulled it up so he could grab her ass with both hands. He slipped his hands down inside her lacy underwear and kneaded and massaged her as they kissed.

  His touch on her bare skin seemed to incite her and their kiss grew more passionate. She moaned as he continued to knead and his fingers slipped lower and lower so they could lightly graze where she was already wet. Cupping her there, he steered her up against the counter.

  “In the kitchen?” she breathed. “Naughty boy.”

  “Naughty girl,” he said, joining in on her teasing. “No, naughty woman, actually. Beautiful and exquisite woman.”

  He slid his hands up her body, lifting the shirt up as he went. She made a soft sound in the back of her throat.

  “God, I love it when I make you moan,” he said, then nipped the side of her neck. “It’s a delicate sound, but earthy. And your eyes close when you do it—I love seeing your eyelashes on your cheeks. Beautiful. Like you.”

  He twisted her shirt in his hand, then pulled it off and tossed it to the floor.

  He leaned down and kissed first one of her breasts and then the other. She shivered as his tongue shot out and flicked across one hard nipple. He sucked it in, hard, causing her to gasp and grab his face to hold him in place.

  He reached underneath her, still holding one nipple gently between his teeth, and lifted her up onto the counter. He pulled off the panties she was wearing and let them join the nightshirt on the floor. The kettle began to rumble as the water boiled, so he reached over and turned that off before he crouched between her open thighs.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered.

  And she was.

  Soft. Pink. Like petals on a flower. “Branden…” Cara whispered, and tried to pull her knees together.

  He put his hands on her knees and spread her even wider. He knew she wanted this. Wanted him to look at her and adore her the way the woodcut husband had looked at and adored his wife.

  “I won�
�t stop. I have to see you.”

  “But I’m…it’s not…I mean…”

  He knew what she meant. “You are, though. Beautiful. Alluring. Seductive. And I see you. Completely.”

  When she sucked in a shuddering breath, he cast his gaze upward, and caught sight of her face—eyes squeezed tightly shut, the corner of her lip held by her white teeth, tension across her forehead.

  “Believe me, Cara. Trust me.”

  With those words, spoken with all the truth he had in him, her face relaxed. Softened. She stopped biting her lip and sighed, allowing her mouth to curve into a smile.

  She trusted him. Trusted him to take control. To give her what she wanted. What she needed.

  Something unfamiliar entered his bloodstream, poured through his veins, infused his pores. Something warm. Soft. Intense.

  He fought against the rising sensation, struggling and battling against—what? Emotion, maybe? Whatever it was, he didn’t want it. Not now. Not ever.

  He bent forward and licked her wet pussy.

  A shudder hit him—God, she tasted good. Clean. Earthy. All woman. And so exquisitely Cara.

  Cara groaned and wrapped her fingers in his hair. He used his tongue to slowly part her lips, wanting to immerse himself in her scent, her taste. Finding her swollen clit, he lapped at it hungrily as she squirmed and moaned on the cold tile counter. He licked her for several long moments before he sucked and nibbled on her clit. She cried out and the shudder came back, traversing his spine—he loved hearing her cry. Loved knowing he was giving her pleasure. Making her lose control.

  “Oh, Branden,” she said, throwing her head back against the cupboard as he entered her with a finger and began to swirl it around inside her. Her moans grew louder and more intense and her body quaked. She was on the verge of having an orgasm.

  He slipped a second finger inside and went deep as her body shook and she cried out his name a second time. As he felt her tighten around his fingers he pushed in and out harder and faster. She screamed out his name as the orgasm hit her and he could all at once feel her tightening around his fingers. She continued to move her hips and he left his fingers where they were until she shuddered again and her body went slack.