Life Shocks Romances Collection 4

by Jade Kerrion

  Except for those three-inch heels.

  His groin tightened. Damn it. “Did you come to see what my ancestral home is really like?”

  She shook her head. She unhooked the pendant and walked toward him, the blue gem resting in the palm of her hand. “This is yours.”

  “I gave it to you. Payment, for tonight, and for all the times you let me have sex with you.”

  Cixi winced, shuddering slightly as if his words had struck her with physical force. She lowered her gaze. “I deserved that.”

  No, you didn’t. Yes, you did. Rio grimaced. Why couldn’t he get his head straight?

  Because I loved you once. Love had crushed his ability to think coherently where she was concerned.

  He did not pluck the jewel out of her hand. “What are you doing here?”

  “To return the diamond,” she said.

  “I don’t want it anymore.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Because all it is to me now is a symbol of my stupidity and gullibility. That lesson’s seared in my mind. I don’t need the diamond to remind me of it.”

  “Don’t you want to get your money’s worth?”

  “What?”

  “The diamond is worth millions. We were together for six months. At the average of sex twice a day for six months, you’re paying $30,000 each time we had sex. That’s at least a thousand times the average rate of a whore.”

  Rio stared at her. With effort, he suppressed his laughter. How could he have forgotten her sardonic wit, so pointed it often seemed socially out of place?

  But then again, I called her a whore. She’s simply doing the math.

  She placed the diamond on the table in front of him and walked to the door. Instead of leaving the room, however, she closed the door. He heard the lock click before she turned to face him.

  Shit. He swallowed against the lust clawing at his gut.

  Cixi stepped out of her high heels with the perfect grace of a ballerina. She raised her arms and tugged her sweater over her head, immediately baring her breasts. She unzipped her jeans and peeled them down along the length of her legs.

  She wasn’t wearing any panties either.

  Rio was painfully hard by the time she straightened to stand in front of him. She was naked; he was fully dressed, but she held the reins, and they both knew it. She stepped into her heels—she did it on purpose, he growled resentfully—she had always known it turned him on. The endless length of leg—he remembered what they felt like, wrapped around him, as he found heaven between them.

  The dim light in the library was brighter than the room they had used mere hours earlier. She was thinner than he remembered, and her face was only vaguely familiar, but the body was hers—long legs, tiny waist, small breasts. Her buttocks were a slight but sexy curve. In hindsight, she had always had the perfect modeling body, and now she had the perfect face too. Her eyes were larger, her nose narrower, and her chin more pointed. Her lips, however, were her own—plump and pouty. The overall effect was one of multi-ethnic beauty, the Caucasian and the Chinese in her each highlighted to best effect.

  In her heels, she stood almost eye-level with him. Their eyes met and locked in unspoken challenge. Her fingers loosened his belt and unzipped his pants. He almost groaned when her cool hands slipped into his boxers and wrapped around his heated erection. Sheer willpower kept him from pumping against her hands. He wouldn’t let her win; not so easily. He wouldn’t go down without a fight.

  Her lips tugged up into a knowing half-smile as she knelt and took him into her mouth. Rio’s stomach clenched. Her mouth was warm, her tongue wicked as she caressed along his shaft and teased his head, alternating tiny flicks and lavish swirls.

  He gripped the column behind him with one hand. The other he clenched in her hair, torn between pushing her away and pulling her close. He couldn’t not push against her hot, willing mouth. Her hands caressed his lower back and buttocks, her fingernails teasing along the crack of his ass, making him swell even harder. His cock twitched, the almost painful sensation coiling, ready to—

  Not like this. With a growl, he pushed her away and yanked her to her feet. Cupping her buttocks, he lifted her off the ground and impaled her on him. She shuddered and arched back, deepening his entry. Her body was so slick, so open, it welcomed him without any resistance. Their eyes met again—the challenge equally clear, compelled by rampaging lust.

  She grabbed his shoulders, bracing herself against him as he slammed her back against the wall. Her legs wrapped around his waist, the motion tightening her body against hers. Damn, he was close, but like hell he would finish without wrenching her surrender from her.

  He ground his hips against hers and had a grim pleasure of seeing her eyes roll back. A moan escaped from her lips as her fingernails dug into his shoulders. “Please,” she breathed. Her legs tightened around him, her hips rocking back and forth.

  He drove into her, each motion pushing her against the wall. The need that compelled him had devolved into an animal’s instincts—a primal need for sexual satisfaction, for completion. Even so, some part of his mind realized when she jerked against him, a low cry tearing out of her. Her body clenched around him in the throes of her orgasm, and the nearly painful pleasure exploded through his mind. He slammed his hips against hers, pinning her against the wall, as he shuddered through his climax.

  Moments passed before the haze behind his eyes cleared enough to see again. Her eyes were still closed, her expression satiated. With the half-smile on her lips, she almost looked happy.

  He smiled, and then caught himself. It was just sex. He didn’t give a damn if she was happy, or that he was.

  Rio pulled out of her and set her down, gripping her shoulders until he was certain she could stand. His lips tugged into a smirk. “That should bring the going rate down by at least a couple of dollars.”

  She laughed, a silvery sound without rancor, and it brought back memories of sitting on his little Key West porch, sipping margaritas, and watching the sun go down.

  He hated sunsets now, and for the first time, wondered how much of it had to do with the association of sunsets with her.

  Rio stepped away from her and dressed quickly. It wasn’t difficult. He had hardly taken anything off. He bit back a growl and hoped that quickie sex wasn’t habit-forming. It sure wasn’t deep down satisfying.

  “Rio.”

  “You can show yourself out.”

  “You’ve still got a positive balance on your account.”

  He chuckled, hating the words as they dripped from her lips, but he had no one to blame but himself. He had put them there by calling her, and treating her, like a whore. “Write it off, or will it screw up your tax return?”

  “The diamond is your family heirloom. It has meant something to generations of the Lorens. You can’t just give it away.”

  He spun around. “My heart meant something, and I gave it away—stupidly, carelessly.”

  For a moment, something exquisitely painful shot through her eyes but it vanished, and her tone was harder than ever. “You can’t have it back.” Her eyebrows arched. “That you gave me freely, and whatever you gave me was already shriveled.”

  “I don’t need to take it back. It’s dead. You killed it.” He strode up to her. “Do you even know why I had the diamond with me that night? Why it wasn’t locked up in a vault behind steel doors? I brought it out to give to you. I was going to ask you to marry me, but when I woke up, you were gone. You took everything of yours—as if you’d never even been in my life. And then I realized you’d taken the diamond too.”

  She drew a deep, shaky breath. “I would never have taken it if I’d know it was actually worth something.”

  “That’s an unusual attitude for a thief.” His eyes narrowed. “I’d wondered why you’d left behind the earrings and the ring. They’re worth more as a set than individually.”

  “I told you. I didn’t take it because it was worth something.” She turned her back on him and d
ressed slowly. He stared at the defensive hunch of her shoulders, the elegant curve of her back. She turned to face him. “You deceived me too.”

  “What?”

  “You let me think that you were a beach bum, raking a cheap living waiting tables and doing odd jobs while writing the next great American novel. You never let me think for a second that you were rich.”

  “Why would how much money my family has have anything to do with how I choose to live?”

  “Because a jack-of-all-trades waiting tables would never have had real diamonds in his luggage. Nothing that big, that shiny.”

  “So it was okay to steal because you thought it wasn’t real?” he snarled. “I don’t give a damn how much those diamonds cost. I don’t care if they were paste jewelry with a Made in China sign on the bottom. You stole from me!”

  Her voice trembled, then cracked. “Only to have something of you with me!”

  Her words struck him, silenced him. He drew a deep breath. With effort, he pushed away the angry clamor in his head and heart that made it nearly impossible to be rational. “Why did you leave?”

  “My family was waiting.”

  He sat down—the first step toward listening. “I didn’t know you had family.”

  “I didn’t know either. My mother never told me. She lived life quietly, as if she were afraid of being seen. She sold flowers and candy on the street; I helped her after school every day. We eked out a living—one that didn’t include health insurance—so when she got sick, there was nothing the hospitals could or would do for her.” Cixi lowered herself into the chair across from Rio. “After she died, going to school wasn’t an option, so I took her place, selling flowers and candy.”

  “And that’s where I found you.”

  She nodded. “On the street corner, on a rainy night.” Her voice caught. “I almost didn’t notice you were crying.”

  A muscle twitched in his smooth cheek. He and his parents had buried Charles earlier that day. A child in an adult-sized casket. Charles hadn’t even graduated from high school. He hadn’t even fully lived.

  His parents hadn’t blamed him, but he should have been there. He knew better. Charles didn’t. He could have kept his brother safe. If he had been at that party with Charles instead of holed up in his bedroom, thinking, writing, and working, his brother might still have been alive.

  He couldn’t bear the soft words of sympathy directed his way, as if no one blamed him for something that he knew was his responsibility, if not precisely his fault. He had fled after the funeral, desperately seeking a different environment, a change of atmosphere.

  And he had found her—a plain-faced waif selling flowers and candy on the sidewalk. Her features looked like a blend of Caucasian and Chinese, although it was hard to tell beneath the droplets of rain dripping off her hooded jacket. It was an abominable day to be out on the streets selling useless trinkets. She offered him a tiny smile. “Flowers for you?”

  He didn’t need flowers, but she looked like she needed the money more than he didn’t need flowers, so he took the white rose and reached for his wallet.

  She shook her head. “No charge for you. You just look like you needed a flower.” She smiled then; the curve of her lips transformed her appearance from borderline plain to radiant. Her eyes fixed on his face, and she patted his hand gently. “Whatever hurts you, I’m sorry.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut. She must have seen his tears—tears he had hoped would blend with the rain drenching his uncovered head. The warmth of her small hand on his, however, pushed back the chill that clung to him. He glanced at the 24-hour diner across the street. “Do you want to go get some coffee?”

  And that was it. The relationship that had transformed, and eventually shattered his life, had begun with a white rose. The coffee had been thick and strong, both smell and taste anchoring him against the greasy air spewing from the diner’s kitchen. Eventually, they had made their escape, and he walked her back to her street corner.

  She smiled up at him, a tiny dimple appearing in her cheek. “Thank you for the hot coffee.”

  “How much longer will you be here?”

  She stared down at her nearly full tray of flowers and candy. “Until I get tired, probably a few more hours, then I’ll go back, get some sleep, and then start again tomorrow.”

  “I kept you from selling; I’m sorry.”

  “No, no.” She laughed, the sound like silver bells. “I needed the break.” She wriggled her toes through her soaked sneakers. “I hope you feel better.”

  He did, actually. He had told her only that his younger brother had died, and they had buried him that day. It hurt to say anymore, and she hadn’t pushed. Instead, they had talked about her life. It all seemed rather bohemian to him, but to her, it was normal, even expected—a lifestyle passed down to her by her mother.

  Even so, he caught frequent glimpses of her curiosity and intelligence. She had enjoyed school and been decently good at it. In fact, the conversation had shifted to American and world history, and he found himself doing most of the talking. She was eager to fill in the gaps in her knowledge, as if there were a library in her mind and she was trying to track down all the missing books.

  Eventually, though, she had glanced at the sidewalk. “I guess I should go.”

  Rio glanced at his watch. Three hours had flown by. He had never lost track of time like that before.

  So, here they were, back where they had started—a girl giving a white rose to a grieving boy, only now, he knew her name, enjoyed her conversation, and loved her smiles and laughter. “Will you be here tomorrow?”

  She nodded. “And tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow.”

  It had seemed so simple then—boy meets girl; boy falls in love with girl; boy makes love to girl; boy convinces girl to move with him to Key West; for six months, boy and girl live in sexual bliss and peaceful harmony; boy visits New York City for a few days to retrieve the Loren diamonds from the family vault; boy returns to Key West, ready to propose.

  Girl vanishes, taking the diamond with her.

  It still didn’t make sense.

  Something had happened in the three days he had been away.

  Yeah, she decided she didn’t want to be with you.

  After all, she had claimed ignorance of the diamond’s value and apologized for stealing it.

  She had not, however, apologized for leaving him.

  He stared at her across the three feet of space—the infinity—that separated them. “You said your family found you.”

  “Yes. My father is Shen Long.”

  Rio stiffened. “He’s in real estate. Mostly out on the west coast, but with significant holdings in New York City and Washington, D.C. He’s your father?”

  She nodded. “He’d had an affair with my mother—little more than a one-night stand—and I was the result.”

  “Why did he come back into your life after all that time?”

  She shrugged, a graceful motion that lifted her shoulders and let them fall with all the elegant of a choreographed dance. “He didn’t know about me before. Since then, he’s given me everything.”

  “Everything? Was the plastic surgery his idea?”

  Cixi lowered her gaze. “My idea.”

  “I hardly recognize you.”

  Her eyes flicked up; in them, he saw a resentment that matched his own. “I wanted to be pretty. Why is that so hard for you to understand?”

  “You were pretty.”

  “Not as much as you. Every time we went out, the girls hit on you.”

  “I never gave any of them a second look.”

  “No, you didn’t. But no one hit on me.”

  His jaw dropped. “Was that what you wanted? To have men fighting over you, like dogs over leftovers?”

  She shot to her feet. “I am not leftovers! Why was it wrong for me to be more than just the girl you picked up off the street because you felt sorry for her?”

  “Sorry for you? I never felt sorry for you.
You amazed me with your guts, your resilience, your empathy. Standing at that street corner, selling flowers and candy for a living, couldn’t have been easy, yet there was enough in you to feel compassion for a stranger having a rough day.”

  “Why did you say none of that when I was with you?”

  “I told you I loved you!”

  “It wasn’t enough. I wanted to be special.”

  “I wouldn’t have loved you otherwise.”

  “How could I know that?” she asked.

  Her words slapped him. “Are you telling me you left me because I didn’t compliment you enough?”

  “How could I know what I meant to you?”

  “And telling you I loved you wasn’t enough?”

  She shrugged her shoulders, and until that moment, he didn’t realize it was possible to break someone’s heart with a shrug. “Men say that because they know women need to hear it. My father probably said it to my mother too, and look what happened?”

  “Don’t compare me to your father.”

  “At least he faced up to his responsibilities. He took me in, gave me a home. His contacts launched my modeling career. I’m not just a girl anymore. I am a pretty girl, and not just any pretty girl. I am the pretty girl—the one on magazine covers, the one strutting down the catwalk.”

  “Is that what you wanted?” Rio asked quietly.

  “I have fame, fortune, and a family. What else do I need?”

  He turned his face away. “Nothing, I guess.” Rio stood and strode toward the door.

  Her voice stopped him in his tracks. “Your diamond.”

  “You took it. It’s yours now.”

  “I took it, not realizing its value. I’d like to return it.”

  He spun to look at her. “Why? So that you can sleep easy at night knowing that the police won’t show up at your door?”

  “It belongs with its family, and together, they belong to the woman you love and will eventually marry.”

  Yeah, well, I’m not headed down that path for a good long while. He grabbed the diamond pendant and walked out of the library. He was not surprised to hear the nearly soundless patter of her feet behind him. He did not object either when she followed him into his bedroom.