“Whoever created this dress, didn’t intend for it to be worn,” she said, her face tilted up as she swayed to the music.
“I think this dress might possibly go down as one of my favorites of all time.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Are you kidding? I’ve battled all night to keep from flashing your friends. I don’t know what she was thinking,” Lara grumbled.
“She was thinking of your beauty…your frame…of me…” he said and lifted his forefinger of their clasped hands and ran it down her soft cheek.
“Of your embarrassment. Did you make her angry?” she asked, clearly trying to make a joke.
“No, not at all. She knew how to reel me in,” he said truthfully. Lara was fully against his body, leaning her head back to look him in the eyes. The angle was perfect for a kiss, just like so many other times tonight. He wanted a world where it was his right to lean in and take her kisses. He needed to set this right between them, start working them into that exact relationship. The game had changed tonight. Actually, everything shifted the minute he’d met her roommate at lunch that very first day and registered the intense jealousy coursing through himself, but he was a hard-headed, stubborn man. He’d needed time to process.
“How to reel you in?” The statement seemed complicated to her.
“Don’t be mad, okay?” he asked and slid his hand through the back panel of her dress, wrapping a palm around her waist, holding her firmly in place.
“Okay.” She watched him closely as they came to a stop on the dance floor. None of the confusion left her tone. He paused for the briefest of seconds, searching her face before he made his confession.
“I’m not gay.” He watched the different thoughts play out over her lovely face and through her expressive eyes, but she didn’t try to step away. She continued to stay in his embrace, and perhaps the hand at his back gripped his tuxedo jacket, but he couldn’t be certain. She was silent for several long moments.
“Say something,” he finally said.
“You should’ve set me straight sooner.” Her eyes turned sad. The smile she’d had most of the night began to fade.
“It’s not a bad thing that I’m not gay.” He’d expected angry, hoped for happy, but never anticipated sadness. Reed furrowed his brow. He’d wanted her to be relieved. They’d shared a wonderful evening together. They fit so well together. Why was she sad?
“It kind of is.” She broke eye contact and lowered her head to his shoulder, turning her face away from him. She began to move again in a slow sway. He didn’t like that at all. He lowered his cheek to her head and moved them a little farther away from the crowd on the dance floor. He didn’t want her pulling away; he wanted her happy he was straight and so into her.
“How so?” he asked into her hair. After a moment, she turned her face in. He tucked their entwined fingers closer in, letting her breath caress his knuckles.
“I like you. I envisioned you being around for a while. You fit Kade.” He didn’t follow her line of thought. He used his finger to lift her face back up to his.
“I’m not following. Explain that a little further,” he said.
“It’s nothing.” She tried to lower her head again, but he stopped the motion, drawing her eyes back up to his.
“It’s something. You’ve lost your smile. Out of all the possible ways I thought this conversation would go, I didn’t see you being sad.”
“I’m not sad,” she said, but lowered her eyes, even if her face was still tilted in his direction. “I haven’t fit in here as well as Kade. Everyone in this town is just so… I don’t know. I’ve enjoyed this week. I liked getting to know you. Don’t mind me.”
“I’m trying to understand,” he said when she moved her chin from his hold and laid her head back on his shoulder. Her voice was quiet, and he leaned in farther to hear her words.
“I don’t have a lot of friends. You and I seem to click like Kade and I do. That’s all. You’re just too good-looking. You belong with the Kades in the world. Or that brunette from earlier. I don’t know what I’m trying to say. Ignore me. Of course I’m not sad that you’re not gay.” She lifted her head and chuckled a little, but the warmth of the laugh didn’t reach her eyes.
“You don’t see yourself clearly,” he finally said.
“That’s what Kade always says.”
“Can we finish this conversation away from here?” he asked. He had no idea what was going on in the lovely head of hers. His need to kiss away the sadness in her eyes was stronger than anything he’d ever experienced before. “Come back to my office with me. Have a drink. Help me understand.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she said, and again fully stopped her body’s movement, but didn’t move out from under his hold. Probably because his arm had become a steel band at her back, keeping her flat against his body.
“Just say yes.” He wanted out of there. He needed to understand her barriers in order to overcome them, and there were too many prying ears on the dance floor. “Just one time, say yes without me having to talk you into it.”
“All right. It’s getting late though; I can’t stay long.” He didn’t comment on that. He forced himself to let her go, but kept their hands entwined. He’d danced them over in a corner for privacy and turned, almost colliding with another body right behind him. The smell of that particular expensive cologne and the lingering scent of cigarettes were enough to ruin his entire night. The tension that always faded in Lara’s presence slammed back throughout his body, bowing him up tight. He didn’t even need to see the faded blue eyes staring back at him. They were his eyes. He hated he’d inherited anything from that man. He stopped dead in his tracks and on instinct put Lara completely behind him in a protectionary move.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Reed asked.
“Is that any sort of greeting? I’m a donor, you invited me.” The voice was smooth, cold, and deceptively calm to belong to such a giant motherfucker.
“I can’t imagine we’d accept money from you,” Reed hissed in his grandfather’s face.
“I don’t want to fight with you. I thought I should at least meet the woman who’s captured your attention so completely that you didn’t see me here.”
“Get out of my way, old man.” Reed stepped right into his personal space. He hated this man more than any other person on the planet.
“You’re the most like me, son.” Reed wanted to drive his fist through the old man’s smug mouth for daring to say those words. “We’re family, Reed. I should know her when the inevitable questions begin.”
“You don’t abandon family, and I’m not doing this here. You shouldn’t have come.” Reed didn’t care the guy had fifty years on him. If he didn’t move, Reed would plow him down. This time he growled his words. “Get out of my way, old man.”
A scared-looking, barely dressed, young twenty-something-year-old stood behind his paternal grandfather. Of course the dickhead would bring his mistress to something as wholesome as a foundation dinner benefitting children. The old man didn’t have an ounce of decorum about him. Reed eyed her, then him and stepped forward. He tightly gripped Lara’s hand as he dragged her behind him. There was a solid bump of the shoulders when the old man didn’t move away fast enough. The only sound he heard was Lara’s heels clicking on the floor, trying to keep up with his stride, but he was too enraged to care.
Someone would lose their job for this slight. His first rule in any endeavor—no other Prescott was welcomed if he were involved.
He knew they’d drawn a crowd. He barely registered Evelyn standing by the door, opening it wide. There was pain in her eyes as she held Lara’s purse out to her. He didn’t want to see that. He shoved through, going straight out the front doors.
“Reed,” Lara said frantically. He didn’t look back. Instead he scanned the parking lot and found his driver. He stalked in that direction as the car started. This time Lara kept up, running beside him, tugging at the hold he had on her. “You’re goi
ng to break my hand.”
The limo pulled up beside him, and he let go of her as he yanked open the back door, shoving her inside. He didn’t wait for her to settle as he got in on her side. His hip bumped hers to move over faster. Rage on a level he hadn’t experienced in years filled his heart. How in the fuck had his grandfather gotten on that guest list tonight? There was no amount of money worth the chance of being in that fucker’s presence.
“What happened?” she asked, scooting as far away from him as she could get it.
“To my place,” he called out to the driver. His heart raced inside his chest as he dug his phone from his breast pocket to send a message to the foundation president that he wanted an eight a.m. meeting with her in his office. She’d be damn lucky if she left that meeting with her job intact.
Thank God it was late. Pent-up energy ripped through him like convulsions. He’d been so certain he’d protected his world that he’d let his defenses down. He hadn’t been prepared. Motherfucker! God, he wanted to punch something.
The limo pulled to the side entrance of his building, and he reached to take Lara’s arm as he opened the door. He stepped out, tugging her along with him. He kept his hand wrapped around her upper arm, jerking her along beside him until she wrenched free just inside his street-side private entrance door.
“I should go home.” She took several steps away from him, which caused him to look at her for the first time since escaping the foundation event. Her eyes were as panicked as her voice.
“You said you’d have a drink with me.” He followed her movements and took her arm again, pulling her inside and toward the elevators.
“That was before you turned into this.” She waved her free hand wildly in his direction.
“You said you’d have a drink with me,” he repeated, like that meant anything. She ripped herself free again and began to storm off in the direction they’d just come.
He stood there watching her leave and forced himself to calm down. He looked at the ceiling before walking toward her retreating form. “Stay, Lara.”
She faltered, but kept going.
“Please.” A moment of reasoning made its presences known. If he were smart, he would let her leave. This was not the night to continue down this path. The little tickle of anger flared again, drowning out the wisdom of his thoughts. Fuck it. He needed to burn this energy off or he’d never get any sleep tonight. He’d put in the time with this woman, she needed to see this through.
“What happened back there?” Lara asked. She stopped, but didn’t turn around. He continued toward her and almost smiled the sneer of a man capturing his prey. No more fanciful notions of romance and long-term. He had to always remember the DNA coursing through his veins. One side was that motherfucker. A manipulative ass-hat that gave his only son’s child up. The other side was the reason he’d been given up in the first place, his addict, whore mother.
Reed Prescott was the true definition of trash.
“Come up stairs and I’ll tell you,” he said calmly, standing about two feet in front of her.
“I’m not sure I believe that,” she said, facing off with him.
“You’re probably right, but come up with me anyway. You had a nice time tonight. Don’t let it end like this.” He saw the indecision on her face. Actually, he figured she probably knew she should leave, but that good person inside her wouldn’t let him struggle alone.
“One drink, then you can go,” he said and reached out for her again. He gentled his hand that time and caressed her cheek before circling her shoulders and drawing her toward him. She didn’t agree, but didn’t stop him either. His surly disposition hadn’t improved. The vile chorus running through his head never ceased. But he forced himself to relax.
He hit the call button and the doors opened. He let her walk on before him. They were silent now. Her big beautiful smile was gone, a weariness left in place. He got it. He was weary too. He’d stepped out of his comfort zone with her, let himself be something other than himself. Never before had he gone to such lengths just to sleep with a woman. Her goodness made him feel good. It was such an odd feeling. Maybe it was divine intervention that had his grandfather showing up right at that same moment that he’d been so dazzled; he’d been ready to move heaven and earth just to have her by his side. Women like her didn’t have trash like him by their side long-term.
He dropped his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the wall. Lara stood a few feet away from him. The farthest she’d been all night. That was all right. He needed to tie this up between them. Do her, get her out of his system before there was any more collateral damage to his heart.
The sinister side of him thought he was up for the task. The doors opened and he held his calm façade in place. She stepped off first, and he followed, until he took the lead, directing her toward his office.
“I have a pretty packed bar,” he said, opening his office door wide. It was dark and he turned on a few strategic lamps inside the room. He strolled across the office and opened the blinds to allow the twinkling downtown lights to filter into the space. He turned back to judge the room and decided that was enough in the way of foreplay. The mood was set.
~~~
“What would you like to drink?”
“Water’s fine,” she said, coming to stand in the middle of the room. She watched him move in quick, efficient motions. The relaxed, easygoing man she’d spent so much time with over the last few days was gone. Now she understood better those first few minutes they’d met on the street. When he decided to just pluck her off the street and drive her wherever he decided to take her. She could see that man was here with her right now.
“I have champagne, chilled wine, or just about anything you want.” She watched him work at the bar, taking a cocktail glass from a cabinet and pouring a glass full of something that looked like whiskey or brandy. He drained the glass in one long swallow before adding a few ice cubes to the bottom and fixing a new drink.
“Water’s fine. I’ve had too much to drink already. Tomorrow’s going to be hard enough.” He didn’t seem to listen to her request. He poured a second drink. Champagne in a crystal flute. He picked up both, bringing her the champagne where she stood. She was forced to uncross her arms to take the drink from his outstretched hand. She hadn’t realized how tight a hold she had on her arms until she let go and noticed the marks left behind.
“A toast,” he said, lifting his glass. “To a fucked up night with you in a killer dress.”
She started to lift the glass but paused halfway up. He seemed unamused by her reaction and clanked their glasses together. He downed this drink in two swallows, yet he hadn’t drunk more than a glass of champagne all night long. She never took a sip of hers.
“What happened tonight?” she asked, wrapping one arm back around the other. It seemed a protectionary move, something to help hold herself together. Her own father was a drunk, but a happy alcoholic. It was the only thing that made those years bearable. She watched Reed closely. He could drink as well as her father. He didn’t even wince at the burn that had to follow the liquor coursing down his throat. He moved away from her, took off his suit jacket, and carelessly dropped it over a chair. He loosened his tie as he headed back to the bar.
“Unwanted attendees, nothing more,” he said, tugging the tie free, randomly discarding the thin strip as he poured another glass. He worked the top buttons of his dress shirt free as he carried his glass, coming back in her direction.
“They must be terrible to ruin such a lovely night.” She hadn’t budged from her spot. He had the energy of a caged animal. Someone you certainly didn’t poke at for fear of being bit in the backlash.
“Hmmm,” he murmured. He bypassed her, going to the floor to ceiling windows behind her. She tracked his movements. He placed his glass on the small table nearby and began to unclasp the cuff links holding his sleeves together. He tossed those on the table carelessly. Lara watched as one rolled across the top and landed on the floor un
seen.
“It’s such a beautiful city from this vantage point.” A diversionary tactic. She moved to the other end of the window, keeping her distance.
“Not as beautiful as you.” His voice still wasn’t quite right, but turning softer. Her eyes darted to his face at the compliment, but he wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he rolled up each sleeve of his shirt.
“You’re funny.” Silence ensued between them. When he stayed on his side of the office and looked out over the night, she finally turned and followed his gaze. “I don’t know how you get any work done, especially at night. It’s addicting to stand here and stare.”
“I have to keep the drapes drawn if I intend to get any work done.” It seemed an honest answer. Maybe the angry tide had turned. Some of her apprehension faded.
“I bet.”
He moved. She looked up over her shoulder to see him standing directly behind her. She tried for a small smile to test the waters. He returned the gesture. The glass was back in his hand, but he took a small drink this time, not gulping like before. He tipped the glass forward, offering her a drink. The move was intimate. She lifted a hand, steadying the glass, and he brought it to her lips, giving her more of a swallow than she’d intended. He’d been drinking whiskey and it burned its way down.
“How do you drink that?” she asked, after a small round of coughing. He chuckled a little at her question and stepped away.
“You’re a little bit of a lightweight where alcohol’s concerned.”
“I’ve never been a big drinker,” she said, and she hadn’t. Tonight being an exception. She’d drunk three or four glasses of champagne over the course of the evening, but that was because he kept a glass always in her hand.
Chasing Happy (Texas Desires #1) Page 13