Fifteen
Ryder cursed viciously beneath his breath as he watched Angela Perry walk away. Her body was poetry in motion. Any man would appreciate her feminine sexuality, not just Ryder.
He had handled that very badly.
She was right, of course. He was attracted to her. But the spontaneous dinner invitation at the ground-breaking ceremony had been a very bad idea. Sterling would have a coronary if he knew Ryder was dating one of his daughters.
Even worse, Sterling would assume Ryder was with Angela as part of some Machiavellian plot to sabotage Sterling’s plans to head up the new club. Nothing could be further from the truth.
Yes, Ryder did want to be president. And yes, he was interested in Angela. But those two realities had nothing in common.
Besides, if he and Angela ever dated even casually, someone might dig up dirt from the past and use it to hurt Angela. Ryder couldn’t have that on his conscience. It was one thing for Sterling and Ryder to hold a decades-long grudge. Ryder wouldn’t allow Angela to be caught in the middle.
When he saw Ethan Barringer approaching, he forced himself to concentrate on the central purpose of the evening. His personal life had long taken a back seat to business. Tonight would be no different.
Even so, his gaze followed Angela for several moments until she ended up on the far side of the enormous ballroom.
Ethan approached and shook his hand. “Great party, Mr. Currin.”
“Call me Ryder, please. Did your boss send you over here to spy on me and dig up information?”
Ethan grinned. “No, sir. I pretty much stick to my renovation project. Sterling goes his own way in other areas.”
“Ah, you’re a diplomat.”
Barringer lifted a shoulder. “Let’s just say I never burn bridges if I can help it.”
“I saw you come in with Aria Jensen. I was glad to hear she’s coordinating the setup for all our new systems at the Houston club. Everyone tells me she’s top-notch.”
“I’ve known her since we were kids. She’s honest to a fault and as smart as they come.”
“Do you think we can persuade her to move here to Houston?”
Barringer seemed shocked. “Here?”
Ryder cocked his head, wondering if he had misread the signals. “Aren’t the two of you an item? I assumed she might be wanting to relocate. I could put in an official request.”
The younger man’s face was suddenly hard to read. But he didn’t seem happy about the conversation. Quite the opposite. “I don’t think Aria has any interest at all in leaving Royal.”
“Ah. But don’t you live here in Houston?”
“Yes.”
Ryder hadn’t gotten where he was today by being thick-headed. But he pressed on. “Women are not the easiest creatures on the planet. I should know. I have two daughters, and I’ve had more than one wife, so I speak from experience. Don’t let her get away.”
Barringer’s cheeks flushed. “No offense, sir, but I’m not really the marrying kind.”
“Oh.” Now Ryder was intrigued. “That sounds like a line from an old cowboy movie. Care to elaborate?”
“I don’t actually.”
The terse retort almost elicited a laugh from Ryder, but he sensed the younger man wouldn’t share his amusement, so he kept his face straight and changed the subject. A short time later, several more people joined them. The conversation broadened, and Ryder watched with some regret as Ethan Barringer walked away.
Sterling Perry’s CEO had a reputation for straight-shooting, something the namesake of Perry Holdings did not. Ryder wondered if the two men ever butted heads over ethical questions. Nevertheless, it pleased Ryder to know that Ethan was in charge of the hotel renovation for the Houston club. Everything would be done right.
Soon, a new group of guests demanded his attention. He sighed inwardly and forced himself to engage in pleasantries. He could no longer see Angela. She was lost in the crowd.
* * *
Angela Perry was so embarrassed and humiliated she wanted to crawl in a hole and die. Instead, she had to smile and mingle and pretend she was actually enjoying this stupid party.
What had possessed her to confront Ryder in such a public venue? Was that why he had been such an ass? Or was his rejection exactly what it seemed?
Her cheeks still burned.
It astonished her to realize she was near tears. Since when did a man’s opinion rattle her to such an extent?
Unfortunately, Tatiana was nearby. Angela didn’t want her friend to know what had happened, not after Tatiana had specifically warned her about Ryder just a few days ago at the ground-breaking.
To avoid any unpleasant confrontations or questions, Angela ducked into the closest ladies’ room and locked herself in an opulent stall. With the commode lid down and plenty of tissue to mop up her tears, she let the sadness wash over her.
The bathroom consisted of an outer foyer with comfortable armchairs and lighted mirrors and an inner chamber with marble sinks and individual facilities behind tall wooden doors.
No one would notice if Angela stayed in here all night. Only her family, perhaps, might take note of her absence.
Eventually, the tears ran out. After that, she felt a bit foolish. Ryder was just a man. She had a little crush. No biggie. She would get over it. Probably. And it wasn’t like she had to see him every day.
With the help of a disposable wipe from her purse and the small stash of miniature-sized makeup supplies she carried with her, she managed to erase the evidence of her sob-fest. Or at least the worst of it. It wouldn’t do for Ryder Currin to think he had wounded her. The man was far too arrogant as it was. She couldn’t believe she had let him get to her so easily.
Just as she was preparing to exit the stall and return to the party, she heard the outer door open and close. Two people came in, or even three. They were speaking in low murmurs, almost as if they were being intentionally secretive.
Now she really felt trapped. She didn’t want to burst out in the middle of a confidential conversation. Good grief.
She sat back down on the commode lid.
One of the voices seemed to come closer...maybe near the sinks?
Water turned on, then off.
The hushed whisper sounded sinister. “I can’t believe he has the gall to even speak to Angela after what he did with her mother.”
“What kind of sick monster has an affair with one woman and then when the mother is long dead tries to sleep with her daughter?”
Angela’s world went dark for a split second and then the heat of rage shot everything back into sharp focus. Stricken, dumbfounded, she strained to listen. The two voices were so muffled it was difficult to make out the words.
“I heard that Ryder blackmailed Angela’s mother. Swore to her he would tell Sterling about the affair unless she made her father leave Ryder a parcel of land in his will.”
“Because Ryder was nothing but a ranch hand, right?”
“And Sterling was being forced by his father-in-law to work as foreman on the ranch and learn the business from the ground up.”
“Old Sterling thought he was going to inherit it all, but Ryder was bequeathed that one piece of land outside of Houston that just happened to have oil.”
“Which is how he got to be richer than Midas.”
“Do you think he’s already slept with Angela? What’s his game?”
“Well, maybe she reminds him of her mother. Maybe he really loved the mom. Tamara. Wasn’t that her name?”
“Poor Angela.”
“Yeah...”
“I wish she...”
The doors opened and shut again, and the voices faded away.
Angela was frozen in place. Her brain functioned enough to tell her she was in shock, but she couldn’t move.
Ryder must be plannin
g to use her for some inexplicable reason. How had she ever thought he was truly interested in her? And why had she let herself get caught up in the pull of attraction that was apparently nothing but an act? The pain in her chest made it hard to breathe.
At last, after an undetermined amount of time had passed, she stood up and unlocked the door. Just as she exited the stall, a gaggle of college-aged girls burst into the outer portion of the bathroom, laughing and talking. Their fresh-faced enthusiasm was painful to witness.
Her whole world had been obliterated in an instant.
* * *
Aria watched Ethan work the room, feeling a combination of pride and impatience. She wanted to be alone with him. Even during the elaborate sit-down dinner, she’d been forced to share him with their fellow diners.
Both of them were doing their very best for the newly birthed TCC tonight. No one could fault them. They hadn’t even slipped away to a deserted hotel room like they had at the ground-breaking.
That particular memory made her shiver. In a good way.
Ethan stood out in a roomful of handsome alpha males. He carried himself with confidence and assurance, and yet he was endlessly approachable. Whether it was a silver-haired octogenarian matriarch or a newly minted millionaire on the Houston social scene who was dying to be admitted to the club, Ethan handled the interactions with wit and charm.
Talking to Abby Price tonight had been a watershed moment for Aria, reminding her of how important it was not to back down from difficult challenges. Her friend had never been afraid to ask for what she wanted, or even to demand it, if the situation arose.
Maybe Aria had been handling this situation with Ethan all wrong. What would happen if she confessed she was in love with him? If she pointed out how good they were together? Sure, she risked his rejection, but at the rate they were going now, she was going to end things with him soon, anyway.
The thought of gambling her entire future on one roll of the dice later tonight made her stomach clench with nausea. She had always played by the rules. Could she change the habits of a lifetime?
If she tried this, and it failed, not only would she lose Ethan as her potential “forever” lover and life partner, but she could also lose her best friend.
The thought of that crushed her.
These past few weeks after he reappeared in her life had been so incredibly wonderful. Would it be better to take what little he had to give and simply be grateful? Or were scraps of affection worse than nothing at all?
The final two hours of the gala seemed to drag on forever.
She was trying to hide a yawn behind her hand when a familiar voice spoke at her ear. “May I have this dance?”
Her heart stumbled. “Ethan? Where did you come from? I didn’t see you.”
His smile was quizzical. “You were a million miles away. And your expression seemed awfully serious for a party. Everything okay?”
She nodded slowly, looking up into his dark brown eyes. Tonight those beautiful irises seemed to sparkle with glints of amber. Or maybe that was the chandeliers casting a reflection.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Better than fine.”
“You want to dance?”
“Are you kidding? I’ve waited all night for this.”
He pulled her close and settled one large, warm palm on her bare back. Though she couldn’t think of a single time in the past when they had danced together, now they moved as one, drifting across the dance floor in perfect harmony.
Ethan steered her between the other couples effortlessly. He held her tightly, and she pressed her cheek to his shoulder. They danced heart-to-heart, not speaking. The music washed over them—timeless, romantic tunes made for a man and a woman to connect on the dance floor.
One song segued into the next. Aria inhaled Ethan’s familiar scent, a combination of lime-based cologne and starched cotton. His body was warm and hard against hers. Though she was entirely capable of taking care of herself, in Ethan’s arms, she felt cherished and protected. Safe. Loved.
In the midst of all of her soul-searching, there was a third alternative she hadn’t considered. One that was painful in its own way. Maybe Ethan did love her, but not in the way she needed to be loved. It was possible he felt deep affection for her, and that same affection—combined with their mutual combustible attraction—was fooling Aria into believing she might have a future with him.
Her heart shied away from that explanation.
She wanted Ethan to be head over heels in love with her. She needed to hear those rare and wonderful words. I love you, Aria. The lust they shared was all well and good, but passion needed a deep foundation if it was going to last for the long haul.
So she had a choice tonight. She could bury her head in the sand and enjoy the physical bliss while it lasted, or she could push for something more and risk losing everything.
Ethan’s fingertips lightly traced her spine. The simple caress raised gooseflesh all over her body, though the ballroom was plenty warm. His body was so close to hers she could feel his heavy erection pressing against her belly. The feel of him, insistent and masculine, made her breathless with longing and the urgent craving to feel him inside her.
His voice rumbled in her ear, low and rough with desire. “I’m taking you home soon. I’ve had about all of this I can take. I want you naked in my bed. Any objections?”
She tipped back her head and smiled up at him. “I thought I had to be the one doing the asking.”
His disgruntled scowl was comical. “To hell with that. I’ve been forced to look at you in this damned dress for hours. I deserve a medal for not taking you up against the wall already.”
Suddenly, her mouth was dry and her sex throbbed with an aching emptiness that was more than physical. She wanted Ethan in every way there was to have a man. She reached up and ruffled his hair. “I adore you, Ethan Barringer. The band’s taking a break. Let’s get something to drink. And then maybe we can slip out while no one is watching.”
“I like the way you think, woman.” His tight grin was feral, his expression possessive.
They made their way to the bar, but settled on ginger ales instead of anything more potent. Ethan was driving, and Aria wanted a clear head for what was to come.
Just as they were preparing to make their getaway, they spotted Ryder Currin, not twenty yards away. Aria wrinkled her nose. “Oh, shoot. I suppose we have to say our goodbyes. I don’t want to be rude.”
They took a few steps in Ryder’s direction, and then Ethan grabbed Aria’s arm. “Hold up a minute.”
As they watched, Angela Perry walked up to Ryder and—if looks could be trusted from a distance—accosted him with an agitated diatribe. Ryder seemed first shocked, then angry in return.
He opened his mouth to speak, but never got a chance. Angela reared back and slapped him across the face with all the force of her open palm.
Then she turned on her heel and left.
Ethan and Aria backed up and tiptoed away carefully. Ethan lowered his voice. “I think we can skip the goodbyes. I don’t think he’ll even notice we’re gone.”
“What do you suppose that was about?”
“I have no idea.”
I’m quivering with excitement. The taste of revenge is sweeter than I could ever have imagined, and tonight has certainly lived up to my expectations. I didn’t even have to do very much except sit back and watch my plans unfold. Once I disseminated bits and pieces of the old gossip about Ryder Currin and Tamara Perry a few days ago, other people began to do my work for me.
How delicious. How perfectly justified. Watching Angela Perry slap Ryder Currin was more exhilarating than a shot of hundred-year-old Scotch. They all deserve to feel the pain I’ve felt...and to know what it’s like to lose everything. An eye for an eye. I won’t stop until Sterling Perry and Ryder Currin and their families are humiliated and broken
and ruined beyond repair.
I will have my day in the sun. But even that won’t ever undo the damage they have done to me and mine...
Sixteen
Ethan could barely concentrate on his driving. Having Aria two feet away in the close confines of the car, inhaling her delicate perfume, seeing her bare feet when she kicked off her high heels with a low groan, turned him inside out. He was in danger of losing control tonight.
He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
Maybe.
He cleared his throat, searching desperately for some innocuous topic to take his mind off the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra beneath that drop-dead-sexy dress. “Harmon Porter was there tonight, but he never said a word to either of us. You know him better than I do. What do you think that means?”
Aria yawned and leaned back against the headrest. “Maybe he’s one of those men who get off on making idle threats. Maybe he’s nothing but bluster. He has a reputation to uphold.”
Ethan frowned, and the vehicle rolled to a stop at the red light. “Perhaps. But I don’t think he’ll take your defection so easily.”
“Another woman will come along.”
He reached across the console and put a hand on her thigh. “There’s only one you.”
Aria curled her fingers around his. “What a sweet thing to say.”
His sex flexed and grew, causing him physical pain. If holding her hand did this to him, he was in too deep. “Make no mistake, darlin’. I’m not sweet. In fact, I’m gonna gobble you up first chance I get.”
She propped one slender ankle on the dashboard, causing her frothy skirt to fall back, revealing a toned, shapely calf. “I’m so afraid.”
His hand clenched her thigh. When the light turned green, he had to force himself to release her so he could hold the wheel. “Laugh all you want,” he said gruffly, “but you’re mine tonight.”
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