Tempting the Enemy--A Sexy Billionaire Romance

by JC Harroway

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Sterling

  EVERY INCH OF me is tense, as if I’m made of steel. The brittle kind. One false move and I’ll crack into jagged shards. The concern in Monroe’s hazel eyes across the table from me amplifies the panic cleaving through my soul.

  ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ I say, blocking out her perceptive stare by glancing around the elegant dining room of London’s Dorchester Hotel where we’ve met for brunch on my last day in London.

  This trip has been a disaster. I’ve been too distracted by how I handled things the last time I saw Ava to focus on Bold business. The interest in the newly branded Lombard Logistics has been overwhelming—several motivated buyers emerged way quicker than I anticipated. But I’m trapped, unable to make a decision and holding off my final signature on the sale.

  As if that isn’t enough to contend with, I’ve just discovered that my two business partners, my ex-wife and my best friend, are sleeping together.

  Monroe continues to stare, calmly sipping her tea. I expel a restorative breath. That unexpected news might have poleaxed me, but all I think about is Ava. How cold I acted when she told me about her feelings. And how nothing has been right since I watched her run away.

  The emotions that blaze through my chest like forked lightning are so painful, it’s easier to focus on Monroe. ‘Why don’t you tell me all about you and Hudson?’

  ‘I will if you will.’ Her reply is typically forthright and insightful. We know each other too well to hide anything. ‘You go first.’ She sweeps her long dark hair over her shoulder.

  I flick her a reluctant smile, recalling all the times over the years that she seemed to know me better than I know myself.

  Just like Ava does.

  Ava... So strong. So brave. So perfect.

  Why is it so hard to dismiss the way I feel about her? Why can’t I simply stick to my guns and walk away, the way I have time and time again in business?

  Because this is personal. I care about her more than I want to admit.

  Perhaps you even love her...

  No. I can’t go there. I’ve already let her down because I can’t seem to chase Marcus from my mind. I’ve already ruined one relationship while under his influence. Until I’m free of him, I’ve nothing to offer Ava.

  I refuse to hurt her, although the memory of the disappointment I saw in her eyes reminds me that I already have.

  I clear my throat, aware that Monroe is silently watching me. The real issue is too painful to admit, so I hedge. ‘I’m about to close a deal for Brent’s, which has, of course, been rebranded as Lombard Logistics. What do you think?’

  My smile feels like a grotesque mask.

  Why aren’t I more elated? Why am I holding off from signing over to the buyer who won the bidding war yesterday during our Bold meeting at Monroe’s London office?

  Because Ava is right. It won’t make me happy. It won’t erase the past. I’m proving nothing except that Marcus still features in my thoughts. In my decisions. Even in my relationships.

  Fuck. Why else would I have behaved so ruthlessly brutal with Ava and watched her disappear into the night?

  Oh, I followed her home from a distance, tracking her with the app her assistant uses, just to ensure she was safe. I even sat outside her apartment for an hour, debating where I’d gone so wrong and what I could do to repair it. But I couldn’t face her. Seeing how let-down she felt when I stuck to my plan for Brent’s all but demolished me.

  Rather than congratulate me on the deal as I expect, Monroe levels a similar look on me now.

  ‘I don’t know why you bought Brent’s in the first place. Why would you keep hold of bad memories? Is it even profitable?’

  ‘It will be. I’ve amalgamated a couple of other companies. I have a buyer desperate to snatch up the lot and make a very nice return indeed.’ My voice sounds smug, but urgency beats at the base of my neck until my collar feels like a torture device.

  Monroe’s intelligent eyes narrow with speculation. ‘So what are you waiting for? And why else are you discombobulated if it’s not business?’

  I drum my fingers on the table, stalling.

  Light sparkles in her stare as she figures me out. ‘You’ve met someone, haven’t you?’

  I smooth my tie and then wince at the nervous gesture she’s bound to spot.

  I tell myself it’s awkwardness that makes me hesitant. Monroe and I have dated intermittently in the years post-divorce, but we rarely talk specifics. ‘I have been seeing someone, yes. But it’s not meant to be.’

  Because you messed up again.

  ‘Why not?’

  She’s not going to let this go. Perhaps confiding in her will help me get things straight in my head. ‘Because I let her down.’ I offer a tight smile. ‘I have a habit of that, as you know.’

  I need to get the focus of discussion away from me and onto her and Hudson and the sexual relationship they started while I was detained in New York for Dale’s funeral. ‘So, over to you and Hudson.’

  Monroe completely ignores my attempt at deflection. ‘You didn’t let me down. We let ourselves down.’ Her voice is full of compassion and understanding. ‘We both bungled our marriage. Perhaps we were too young or immature or eager.’

  I tilt my head in acknowledgement. We were all of those things.

  ‘Tell me about this woman who has clearly burrowed under your skin—I’m sure she’s fascinating.’ Monroe’s smile glitters. She’s enjoying grilling me, but my turn is to come.

  With a sigh I relent, spilling mine and Ava’s story the way I wanted to the minute I arrived in London. But for Monroe’s mother’s memorial and the obvious tensions between her and Hudson, I might have unloaded my biggest fear—that I’ve lost something rare and precious out of a foolish obsession with the past.

  When I’ve finished talking, relief rushes through my body, swiftly followed by sickening dread. Ava and I had a good thing. She said she was falling for me and I ignored that in order to keep my guard up. Without that shield, I wouldn’t care about Marcus’s stupid company. Josh could have it with my blessing...

  Damn...that’s the answer. I haven’t signed the deal, because I want Ava more than I want my revenge. I don’t need the professional success, because I have it all anyway. What I can’t tolerate is not having her.

  Desperately trying to change the subject until I can think straight, I say, ‘So, it seems we’ve both mixed business and pleasure with disastrous results.’

  Monroe holds up her hand. ‘Hold on—we’ll get to me in a second. Are you seriously telling me that you’re damaging your chances with this amazing woman in order to prove you’re nothing like your stepfather suggested? Because you already know that. You’ve already proved that over and over again. You didn’t fail at our marriage or let me down. We just didn’t work out for many reasons.’

  ‘I know, but—’

  ‘No buts,’ she interrupts. ‘It’s that overprotective side of you, isn’t it?’

  ‘I’m not overprotective.’

  ‘Yes, you are. You inherited your father’s compassion. You protected your mother. You protected me. Now you’re protecting yourself so hard, you’re pushing away the chance of love. That’s insane.’

  I can barely choke out my next words, so violent is my state of dread. ‘Ava doesn’t love me, not anymore anyway.’ I wince, hating my stupidity. ‘I ruthlessly sold her family’s business when it’s all she has left of them.’

  Monroe softens her tone. ‘I don’t know if she loves you or not, but I think you love her. Otherwise that sale would have gone through first thing this morning. I know you—there’s no stopping any of us once we get the whiff of a good deal. There’s only one reason you haven’t signed that contract, and that’s because you care more about Ava than you do about revenge, or the past, or probably even yourself.’


  I’m nodding even before she’s stopped speaking, because it’s the same conclusion I’ve just arrived at. Only it’s too late.

  As if she can read my mind, she says, ‘It’s not too late. Go back to New York, tell her how you really feel underneath all that bravado and fear, and do whatever you can to win her back.’

  I stare for a handful of frantic heartbeats, praying that she’s right and what I’ve done to Ava is redeemable.

  ‘Is that what Hudson needs to do with you?’ I take her hand, because she’s smart, and so right about me I want to kick my own ass.

  Her mouth tightens into a stubborn pout. ‘That’s a different story.’

  I nod, pouring her a second cup of tea from an elegant floral teapot. ‘Well, tell me, but tell me quickly,’ I say. ‘I have a flight to New York to catch.’

  And a wrong to right.

  * * *

  It’s late at night by the time I knock on Ava’s shiny red door. It’s taken me nine hours to get here, every minute of which I’ve replayed our entire relationship over in my head.

  How can I have been so blind? How can I have given my bully so much power? How can I have failed to see the wonder right in front of my face?

  Ava.

  The door swings inwards and she’s there, looking beautiful—her hair caught up in a relaxed topknot, tendrils escaping to caress her cheeks; her soft blue T-shirt cupping her breasts; her feet bare and her long legs encased in skinny jeans.

  ‘Hi. Can I come in?’ Fear snatches at my voice. ‘I have things I need to say.’

  She’s wary but shrugs. ‘Sure.’ Her tone is flat, hurt lingering in her eyes as she turns away and I follow her into the living room.

  The sight that awaits me momentarily tilts the floor beneath my feet. Packing boxes sit everywhere. Some sealed, labelled and neatly stacked by the door. Some half-full of books and records and Ava’s beloved, well-used pots and pans.

  ‘Where are you going?’ I ask, my breath strangled by panic.

  She keeps her eyes averted, wrapping photo frames in newspaper before placing them into an empty box. ‘I’m letting out my apartment. I’m going to Italy.’

  She shoots me a look filled with sadness, so my knees almost give way.

  ‘I see...’ She’s leaving. I’m too late. I’ve ruined something wonderful and perfect out of fear and stubbornness. I have only myself to blame.

  She packs in silence while I stand there like a statue. Inside my heart races, my mouth is too dry to speak and my mind has stopped working anyway.

  The envelope in the inside pocket of my jacket crinkles as I move to retrieve a stack of photos from the table. I hand them to her, our fingertips brushing. Aches rack my body from head to toe.

  I want to drag her into my arms and kiss her until she forgets about the pain I caused. Until she forgets about leaving me and stops long enough to hear me out.

  I can’t let her go like this. It’s all kinds of wrong.

  I take the envelope from my pocket, the memory of her birthday slashing fresh self-loathing through me. ‘I want you to have this. It’s not a consolation prize.’

  She looks at the envelope but doesn’t take it from me. I place it gingerly on the table as if its contents are powerful enough to grant my deepest desires.

  ‘What is it? A cheque?’ she asks, barely glancing at my offering. ‘Have you sold Lombard Logistics already? I heard from the lawyers that you had lots of interest.’

  ‘No... Yes...it’s nothing to do with the deal. It’s...’ I swallow hard. ‘Something I want you to have.’ Why can’t I verbalise how grave my mistakes have been?

  Because I love her. And I’ve lost her.

  ‘Thanks,’ she says, ‘but as you can see, I’m packing up all my possessions and those belonging to my family that I couldn’t bear to part with. It’s time for a fresh start. I’ve hoarded things from the past for too long.’ She levels her brave stare on me until I’m crushed by her strength and her self-awareness. ‘It’s people that matter.’ She reaches for a stack of old vinyl records and slots them into the box. ‘I’m taking your advice and going to Italy in order to remember and reconnect with my people.’

  My smile feels like blown glass. I’m elated and devastated in the same lancing breath. ‘I’m so glad. I’m so happy for you.’

  And I don’t want you to go.

  ‘Thanks.’ She tapes the box closed and stacks it near the door, as if I’m not even there.

  I should go. I don’t deserve her, but I can’t allow her to leave the country without knowing how right she was about me. About us. About everything.

  I suck in a breath and close the fraught distance between us. Before she can react, I take her hand, my grip as firm as my resolve.

  ‘There’s something I need you to know. I gave Brent’s to Josh.’ The words spill from me in a cathartic rush. ‘You were right—my revenge wouldn’t make me happy. It wouldn’t bring me peace. All along I’ve had the power to take back control. You helped me to see that, Ava. I owe you everything, so...thank you.’

  Her eyes are huge pools of emotion. I can’t see what I want to see there yet, so I push on. ‘Hamilton’s is yours if you want it. Without you, I have no use for it. While I was in London I dreamed... I hoped we could do something creative with it together, but then I realised I’d let you down too badly, and for that I’ll always be sorry.’

  She shakes her head, tears shining on her lashes. ‘I don’t want it any more. I’m moving on. I’ll be in Italy for six months...’

  I nod, forcing my expression into a reassuring smile, when all I want to do is drop to my knees and beg. ‘It’s okay—I’ll help you to put a management team in until you return, or decide what you want to do. There’s one other thing... Before you go, I want you to know that I... I love you.’

  ‘Sterling...please don’t...’ she says in warning, her exquisite eyes brimming with anguish.

  ‘I know it’s too late, but I don’t want you to leave without knowing that if you ever need it, there’s a place right here,’ I rest my hand on my chest, over my thudding heart, ‘where you’ll always belong. For ever.’

  She stares up at me, but I have no idea what she’s thinking. Maybe I don’t deserve to know.

  I press a kiss to her forehead, while my breath slashes my chest to ribbons.

  ‘Goodbye, Ava. Have a wonderful trip.’

  I don’t know how I make it outside. The cool night air burns my lungs. I stumble to my SUV, my heart in tatters. My hand actually trembles as I reach for the door handle, so profound is my devastation that I had it all and lost it. I pause, rest my head against the cool metal roof and try to make my heart beat once more.

  It’s no good. Without her I’m a shell. A robot in a suit. Money, success, everything is meaningless.

  She’ll flourish in Italy and I won’t be there to see it. All that passion in her will bloom. She may never come back. She could meet some food-loving Italian and be blissful for the rest of her life. And I’ll have to live with my regret.

  But as long as she’s happy I’ll try to bear it.

  I can’t move from the kerb. I’m stuck. Locked in place by the wrongness of how this has unfolded. For a man who plans and strategises everything, how can I have messed this up so monumentally?

  ‘Sterling.’

  At the sound of my name, I spin to see Ava bounding down the steps from her front door. My heart climbs into my throat. Before I have time to move a muscle, she launches herself into my arms.

  I catch her and haul her from her feet, stumbling back against the car with the force of my relief.

  She kisses me. I groan into her mouth, kissing her back with everything I’ve got. I taste salt and realise her cheeks are wet.

  ‘Don’t cry,’ I beg as I pull back to wipe at her face with my thumbs.

  ‘I can’t help it.�
� She laughs, pressing her mouth to mine once more. ‘This is too much.’ She waves the envelope in my face, laughter and tears mingling in her beautiful, expressive eyes.

  ‘I love you.’ I grip her cheeks and lock eyes with her. ‘Nothing will ever be too much, ever again. I’ll give you the world. I’ll protect you and be there for you so you’ll never be alone again. Say you’ll give me another chance.’

  ‘I love you, too,’ she cries, wrapping her arms around my neck.

  I spin her around, press her up against my car and kiss her the way I should have done when she confessed her feelings under the Brooklyn Bridge. Kiss her until the world starts spinning again.

  When I tear my mouth from hers to lay kiss after kiss after kiss over her tear-stained face—her closed eyelids, the end of her nose—her soft laughter restarts my heart like a jolt of electricity.

  ‘How did you do this?’ she asks, shoving the deeds for the building that once housed Girasole, her parents’ restaurant, at me.

  ‘I offered the dry cleaners a price they couldn’t refuse.’ I shrug. ‘It’s only money. I’d do it a million times over for one of your smiles.’

  Fresh tears glisten on her eyelashes. ‘But I’m going to Italy...’ Her voice is a choked whisper. ‘Why couldn’t you have loved me last week, before I booked the flight?’ She shoves playfully at my chest, laughing through her tears in a way that tells me we’re going to be okay. With her love, I can do anything. And starting today, I’ll try to give her the same security.

  I grin, picking her up in my arms and striding back towards her apartment. ‘I did love you last week... I was just a distracted asshole back then.’ I carry her inside, kicking the door closed behind me.

  ‘Nothing is more important to me than you.’ I press my mouth to hers. ‘I’m going to stay awake all night proving that to you.’ I head for her bedroom and place her on the bed. ‘And then in the morning,’ I cup her cheeks, ‘I’m going to drive you to the airport and kiss you farewell.’

  I lovingly strip her naked, quickly losing my own clothes so we’re skin to skin when I cover her body with mine and push inside her.