Sinfully Yours

by Margot Radcliffe

  The compliment had her beaming inside, but she didn’t like that he wouldn’t let her talk about the past. More than anything else in her life, she regretted not being able to tell him just how much he’d meant to her. How much he still meant. She had a ton of friends now, but none as important or as good or as dear as he’d been to her.

  Her childhood nightmare had ended when she’d been adopted by the family she left him for, but it’d taken her a long time to accept that she was worth their regard, that she was worth loving at all. The vague memory of her real parents had faded by the time she knew Will, but he’d made her feel that way too, safe and loved, and she wanted him to know, hoped that she’d been that for him, as well.

  She locked her eyes on his, hoping to telegraph just what she was feeling even though he wouldn’t let her say the words. “Thank you. I appreciate that. Christmas jobs are my favorite and this was a special one for me, so that means a lot.” She wanted to say that she’d created it for him, so in some weird way she could give him the Christmas he deserved.

  Will nodded as if his compliment was no big deal, and then he suddenly pulled his phone from his pocket, his face scowling at the screen. Within seconds his scrolling grew choppy and his face agitated, which made her anxious because she was about to miss her chance to reconnect with him.

  After several more moments, his eyebrows edged together as regret colored his dark eyes. “I have a thing I need to do right now, but can I take you to dinner later?”

  “Of course,” she chirped, sounding like someone who never left the house and was jumping at the chance, but she didn’t care. There was so much she needed him to know.

  He gave a quick, decisive nod before sliding his phone back into his pants. “Good, I’ll be in touch with the details.”

  And then he was striding off into the crowded lobby of his hotel, leaving her to wonder just how the boy who’d eaten by stealing them food from the corner store was now a billionaire hotelier.

  That was one mystery, at least, she hoped to finally solve.

  CHAPTER TWO

  AS WILL HAD PROMISED, his assistant texted Laura within an hour of their meeting in the lobby with details about dinner, including the time, place, dress code and the type of car that would be arriving to pick her up. Everything was taken care of, but by the time she showed up at the restaurant, a celebrated diner not far from her brownstone, her nerves were in the stratosphere.

  This afternoon’s meeting had opened up a door to her past that she liked to keep firmly closed, and the rest of the day she’d been lost in it. Will’s appearance had her reliving those years of fighting girls who picked on her, of hiding from her volatile foster father who always seemed on the verge of hitting someone, of the overwhelming loneliness and sense of worthlessness that defined her childhood.

  In the blink of an eye, she’d gone from a happy four-year-old to a foster kid shuffled from the home of one family who didn’t really want her to another, most of them doing it for the nominal income they were awarded by the government and not any real interest in her welfare. It’d been difficult and she didn’t like revisiting it because it undermined the hard-earned self-worth she’d built over the years. It had taken many years of constant reassurance from her parents that she was worthy of love, and despite her unfortunate track record of leaving guys before they could leave her, she’d mostly accepted it.

  Through it all, Will had been there and she’d never been able to properly thank him. Until she’d met him she’d had no hope back then that her life would get better. After three other unsuccessful foster homes and the group home, life had felt unbearably bleak. But from the day she arrived in their Newark suburb and found that he was her neighbor, he taught her that there might be something better out there for her.

  Will had always been plotting. He’d had a plan for when he got out of foster care—he was going to get a construction job, make enough money to buy a house in the suburbs and have three children. He was going to have the life that was taken from them both. They’d walk the neighborhoods looking at nice houses with happy families inside and he’d proclaim that one day he’d have the best house on the block. All of it had seemed like some magical pipe dream of his that would never happen.

  But Will had made it happen. At least the money part.

  The driver stopped at the curb and helped her out of the town car and into the chilly December. The air was icy as it sliced into her lungs with each inhalation. It was just days before Christmas and she’d be leaving the city tomorrow to drive back to her hometown for the holidays, but the clean smell of snow had already arrived. The wind cut through her wool coat as she quickly headed into the restaurant, thankful for the rush of heat as she entered.

  Handing over her coat and scarf to the hostess to check, she was directed to a booth in the far corner of the restaurant. She’d never been to Maxine’s before, but it was a semi-gritty New York institution where celebrities were even known to pop up on occasion.

  When Will spotted her, he rose from the brown leather booth. Dressed in black jeans and a black cashmere sweater with a different black leather jacket on, he looked like a barely caged animal, alert and ready to attack anyone who might challenge him. His smoky gaze traveled over her from top to bottom, her skin tingling where his eyes touched. The blatant perusal reminded her that things were different now in the present. They weren’t children anymore and hadn’t been for a long time. His reputation with women alone was more than enough proof of that as well as the very adult way her own body responded to his.

  “You look stunning,” he told her.

  “Thank you,” she told him, proud that she’d worked her way up to a point where she could spend a little extra on a dress for a date. The red sheath with a flirty ruffle at the knee-length hem and wrists wasn’t going to get her photographed for Page Six like him, but it was tailored to show off her curves as well as being festive for the Christmas season that she was all-in on. “You, as well.”

  He did a one-shoulder shrug as he helped her into the booth. “My uniform is generally black on black. Makes shopping and dressing simple.”

  “Efficient,” she agreed, though she doubted he was doing his own shopping at this point. Some bright-eyed buyer was probably plucking out the most expensive black pieces and having them delivered straight to his closet.

  Taking his seat across from her, his brown eyes roamed over her face again, as if he was making sure again that it was actually her. But she felt it in all her nerve endings, the warm intimacy of his attention, taking her back to how she’d felt when she’d had a crush on him as a kid, how she’d count the minutes until he appeared at her window to hang out.

  “I still can’t believe you’re here,” he said, holding her eyes. “It’s been fifteen years since I saw you. This afternoon when I stopped at the tree, I thought I was just looking at a girl with the same color hair as yours, but I never thought it would actually be you.”

  That little tell, that he’d remembered her hair color sent a little thrill through her. She had meant something to him, after all. To finally shut the door on that uncertainty was a relief.

  Laura shook her head, about to tell him as much when the waiter came over with waters and the wine list.

  Will ordered a decadent cabernet and met her eyes.

  “Thank you for inviting me tonight,” she told him. “You know, I looked for you on social media over the years, but you never popped up, which since you changed your name explains that. I always thought you’d do well, but I would have never dreamed that you owned the WW Hotels.”

  He gave a wry laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that straightened her spine; a swarthy dimple just visible under his stubble appeared, as well. Time was working for him, and apparently, for her too. “No, I don’t suppose anybody who knew me then would ever make that connection.”

  “Considering our past, we should have e
ntirely different lives,” she agreed. She’d worked through her past in therapy, but her guilt over Will was completely separate. After the first couple of years she’d started feeling like a fairly well-adjusted person, learning to accept the happiness she’d found, which had been a lot more work than she’d thought. She wondered if Will had done the same, if he was able to truly appreciate how far he’d come.

  She held up her glass. “But here we are, having dinner together at one of the best restaurants in the most exciting city in the world.”

  “Here we are, indeed,” Will echoed, his eyes locking with her.

  The delicate glass clinked and they each drank the chalky red wine. Heat shimmered between them in a way that it might have when they were kids if their lives hadn’t been so screwed up. Whatever the case, she definitely felt it now, the connection stretching between them like an invisible electric current. All her secret teenage dreams about him finally coming to life, the yearning, the angst, the certainty that he was the love of her life.

  “So are you going to tell me how you built your hotels?” she asked, so curious about his life.

  Will leaned back into the booth, staring into his wine with a faraway look on his face. “I got out of that building when you left,” he revealed, running a hand across the rough shadow of a beard. “I couldn’t stand it anymore so I bailed. I hung out with some older kids in an abandoned squatters apartment for a couple of months until I graduated high school, worked while I went to community college, then got a scholarship to finish up undergrad at Fordham. I majored in business there and started out at a hotel in the city, then basically worked my way up. I saved my money, met some investors who saw that I was hungry and was willing to work hard, came up with a novel concept, took some reckless chances that paid off, and in a nutshell, here we are.”

  She laughed at his ultra-abbreviated rags-to-riches story and his eyes darkened with interest as he watched her. Unlike when they were kids, he wasn’t trying to hide that he was attracted to her. “You make it sound so easy,” she told him, taking a drink of water to cool herself down, “but I know it wasn’t.”

  He snorted, refilling her glass now that it was below the halfway mark. Pinpricks of pleasure that he was still looking after her spread over her skin. He was a powerful and important man now, but he’d just gone out of his way to care for her. It gave her hope and felt like the hug she’d needed from him earlier. “No, those first years after I left the old foster parents were hell. I mostly slept in burned-out houses and couch-surfed when I needed to. But I knew I was working toward something and that kept me going. What about you? How’d you get to be, as my employees call you, queen of Christmas?”

  She smiled at the accurate label. Christmas was definitely her niche. “Well, first, I actually got my grades up enough after I got to the new family to get into design school. My grades, as you know, had been crap. But then same as you, I apprenticed, but eventually found that I loved Christmas most of all, kind of concentrated on that and here I am,” she informed, giving him a smile. “Thank you, by the way, for hiring me. And all joking aside, I do hope you like the lobby.”

  He paused, his drink in hand, to look directly at her in a way that sent shivers of awareness down her spine, darkly serious and direct. “Even though I hate Christmas, I thought it was excellent work before I knew you’d created it, and now I’m blown away. You definitely have a talent.”

  A smile pushed at her lips because he looked like a tough guy on the outside but just like when they were young, he still had a kind word for her. He’d built her up when she was down more times than she could count.

  “That’s nice of you to say,” she told him, feeling her cheeks heat.

  “It’s not nice,” he told her, setting his glass down as his eyes held hers and she grew edgy. “It’s just the truth.”

  Two tuxedo-clad waiters appeared with enormous round trays heavily laden with multiple plates of food for far more than two people. “I ordered food already, by the way,” he informed unnecessarily.

  When she met his eyes he just shrugged. It was high-handed of him to order without her, but it was clear that she was living in his world now and he was a man who ordered when and what he wanted now.

  Trying to distract herself from staring at him as she wanted to do, to drink him in and soak him up after all of these years even though she knew he’d hate it. She peered at the famous steak au poivre and pork chops and mountains of homemade pasta. It all looked divine and there was so much she wanted to say to him but as she watched him shrug off his leather jacket to eat, the sweater underneath clinging to the breadth of his shoulders and chest, she got a little distracted.

  Sliding her eyes away and back to the mountain of food so he wouldn’t catch her staring, she joked, “I suppose I’ll be able to find something edible.”

  He raised an amused eyebrow as she plucked out a plate of the steak and dove in. Choosing the steak as well, he began eating too, silence descending for a moment as she willed herself not to watch the sculpted planes of his jaw shift as he chewed.

  After a few minutes Will met her eyes, his gaze once again direct and dark with intent. “It’s probably none of my business, but that’s never stopped me before. Are you seeing anyone?”

  Her legs clenched together as a shiver of lust took over her body, but she managed to shake her head in the negative. “No. Not presently seeing anyone.” She’d seen a lot of guys over the years, but all of her relationships seemed to have a sell-by date.

  “I guess it’s my lucky day,” Will murmured, the blunt statement making her stomach tilt with excitement that she wasn’t in this alone. That he felt the same pull to her as they’d had back then, that she still felt. “I had a major thing for you when we were kids, but you probably knew that.”

  “I did not,” she said, grinning stupidly. She’d thought her romantic teenage daydreams were all one-sided. Hearing that they weren’t and that he wanted to revisit their relationship was stunning; heat and hope and excitement flooded her.

  “To say I had a crush on you would be an understatement,” she admitted, a corner of her mouth curving in wry amusement. “I’m pretty sure I was hopelessly in love with you, but knew you thought of me like a kid sister.”

  His eyes drifted down to the cleavage she’d dusted with a touch of shimmer; it wasn’t that he was doing it on purpose, just that his eyes were drawn there, because after he realized what he was doing, his eyes snapped back to hers, apologetic. Then he came back to the conversation. “Maybe in the beginning when you first came to the building, but once we both hit high school I definitely did not think of you as a sister,” he said, his voice deepening just a touch at the end, the edge rippling across her skin like a call to action.

  She felt the look, the words, him at her center and itched to follow through on the flirt. To take all those girlhood fantasies and live them in present time in all the Technicolor and dirty detail his current reputation promised.

  “Do you ever wonder what it might have been like if I had stayed?” she asked. “I was all packed up and ready to leave with you that day, you know. We would have been braving the city on our own together.”

  Just like that, with no warning, his eyes went flat. Just dead, the heat vanishing in an instant.

  “I guess at least we would have been together,” he said flippantly, breaking eye contact to continue slicing his steak.

  The barb hit home because, of course, yes, at least they would have been together. Meaning that he wasn’t over the fact that she’d left him on his own. An awkward silence descended upon them, with her wishing that the guilt pressing on her chest again would give her just a moment’s rest. Because he’d been a boy she’d left, but now in the present he was a man she’d hurt and it was killing her. The only person in her life to show her kindness and she’d abused it again somehow.

  “I really hope after this dinner we can be frien
ds again,” she offered, the sentiment weak and awkward after the cold front he’d erected. She cleared her throat and tried again. “What I mean is that I would like to see you again.”

  He looked up; those same eyes that had been so focused on her throughout the meal now barely noticed she was there. “This has been a nice night, Laura,” he replied, his tone mild, but noncommittal. “It’s been good to see you again.”

  Just that. It’s been good to see you again. A platitude without any hope of a returned sentiment that he’d like to be friends or continue the acquaintance. He bit into another piece of steak and then another as if she hadn’t opened her heart to him. Things had been going so well and then he’d brought down his wall so hard it appeared she was permanently left out in the cold.

  She ate the rest of her meal, slightly numb. She couldn’t believe that she’d blown it again, and her worst fear—that he hadn’t forgiven her for leaving him all alone—had been confirmed. The despair and guilt that she’d fought to bury in the intervening years rolled over her in waves so huge she was drowning.

  Then his cell went off and he wiped his mouth with the maroon cloth napkin. “I’m really sorry about this, Laura,” he said, meeting her eyes, but all business now, “but I need to go. Finish your meal, everything is paid for and my car will take you home.”

  With no more than a cursory peck on the forehead and a wave he was gone.

  Her long-lost friend was apparently going to remain a stranger.

  CHAPTER THREE

  LAURA STARED HELPLESSLY at the curly-haired front desk receptionist at the WW Hotel, her anxiety climbing by legendary degrees.

  “You’re sure you don’t have anything available?” she pleaded. “I literally have nowhere else to go.”

  It wasn’t strictly the truth because she could go back to her apartment, but Maisey’s entire family was there visiting at present. Since Laura’s original plan was to be well ensconced in her parents’ home in Tewksbury baking gingerbread cookies for her nieces and nephews and watching Christmas movies in warm fuzzy socks by now, she’d offered her apartment up for Maisey’s family to use for the holiday. She hadn’t planned on having to find an open hotel room in New York City during Christmas. She might as well be looking for the real Santa Claus.