Violet had said she barely knew Ethan. “Creepy.”
He chuckled. “It’s true. They were made for each other. Step away from him and I’ll make it worth your while. I know you trapped him, but he’s not for you. I saw how you avoided the wine with dinner. Did you tell him you were pregnant?”
She’d practiced this part. “I don’t drink. Does everyone who doesn’t want to drink have to be pregnant?”
If she could she’d slap the smug grin right off his face. But he kept her hand in a firm grip. “We can take care of that. You can’t be very far along, so we can tidy that little detail away. It’s happened before.”
To Ethan? But she didn’t ask. He wouldn’t tell the truth anyway. But the suggestion cast a shadow over her, and her self-doubt returned. Was she one of many? He’d had lovers before, but pregnancies? She thought he had accepted the possibility of making a child with her. He’d seized the possibility with both hands, used it to persuade her into this farce.
Except it wasn’t a farce. As the older Black swept her around the floor, she knew one thing for sure. She was falling in love with Ethan Black, if she hadn’t done it already. And he didn’t love her. Now she understood why he’d told her he didn’t know how to love. With a parent like this, he had no chance to learn how to love, or the value of it. Scarlett had had the best parents in the world, and she was thankful she still had one of them. She spoke to her father every day, checked on him and knew if she forgot, he’d call her. Because they loved each other.
That was what she wanted for herself. The kind of lasting love that lives were built on. She was doubtful she’d find that with Ethan, but as the father of her child, they were bound together for life.
“Pregnant?” She laughed in his face, watched his eyes change, his pupils shrink. “Yes, go ahead, tell people that.”
“But you’re a career woman. You don’t want a kid cluttering up your life. Think about it. You’ll be separating two people who were always meant to be together.”
“What about Willow?” she shot back.
“Eh, she’s useful, but he won’t marry her. She’s a distraction for him, that’s all. She knows what you don’t understand. The only thing Ethan will ever love is himself.”
“If that was true, looking at him must be like looking into a mirror. You’re a despicable man. I wouldn’t help you even if it made sense.”
He gave her a smooth smile, irritating her because she’d let him get to her. “You’ll come around.” He tightened his hold, turning his hand slightly to make her aware of the engagement ring digging into her flesh. “Don’t forget, you get the diamond and the payment. Call me and we’ll discuss terms.”
What was the point of arguing with him?
As she broke away, intending to stride across the dance floor and return to the table to collect her purse, she was caught in a strong pair of arms she knew well. “Don’t let people see,” Ethan murmured, giving his father a civil nod. “Or you’ll be on every social media site before the night’s out. Look at me. Smile.”
He’d rescued her again. She did as he asked, even though her smile was tight. “I want to leave.”
“And we will. But too early and the media will go wild. They’ll say that Willow is humiliated. She’s the media’s darling right now.”
“She works hard at it.” Her feet were throbbing in her elegant silver sandals.
“Yes, she does. She’s a hard-working businesswoman who attracts a lot of attention. As soon as she moves on to another man, so will the paparazzi. I get some attention, but not like this.”
She swallowed. “I don’t like this.”
“Neither do I. I make a couple of appearances a year at events like this, but it’s only when I date somebody notable that they get frenzied.”
“You look like your father.”
Now his smile tightened. “Handsome devil, isn’t he? With the emphasis on the demonic part.” He watched her carefully, somehow maneuvering her through the now crowded dance floor. Radar, probably.
It couldn’t be pleasant, resembling a man like Dustin Black so closely. “He doesn’t care who he hurts, does he?”
He gave a tiny shake of his head. Ignoring everyone around them, he drew her closer and nestled her against him. Thankfully, Scarlett settled into his heat. His fingers curled between hers, holding her loosely but with an intimacy she would never forget. Whatever happened next.
As the music changed, he drew her off the dance floor, to one side. “You’re tired. I don’t give a damn about Willow or her moods. We’re going home.”
That sounded so good. Scarlett had been under such stress tonight that she didn’t care, either. She wanted to curl up in bed with Ethan, feel his arms around her, keeping her safe from harm.
Except, a voice lurking at the back of her head said, he can’t do that. Especially if the company he loves is taken from him.
*
“Violet is very sweet, isn’t she?” Scarlett said.
Sitting in the back of the limo on the way home, Ethan had resisted the urge to hold her. He wanted her, but in a way that was strange to him—needy. Sure, he cared for her, but he was also suffused with anger, that his father had upset her.
He’d watched them carefully while exchanging meaningless politenesses with their dining companions. His enemies in the boardroom. Although he’d asked her to accompany him to the next board meeting, he was beginning to worry about it. Would Scarlett be able to withstand the viciousness of his relatives?
Although he’d let his father take her away, he resolved never to let the old man near her again. He saw the way Dustin’s hand splayed possessively over her back, and answered his father’s triumphant glance at him with a shrug. As if he didn’t care that his father might try to seduce Scarlett. Normally he wouldn’t. In the past, Dustin had played that trick on him and Ethan had walked away and left them to it. Now he was married, Ethan didn’t suppose for one god-damned minute his father would stop doing that.
But he trusted Scarlett and that gave him pause. The faith he had in her came from a place deep inside him; a place he usually kept locked and shuttered. She would not falter, and better she had her first encounter with him under Ethan’s watch than for him to try to approach her when he wasn’t there. Dustin could be pure evil, but he didn’t see it that way. Of course, he didn’t. He convinced himself and the people around him that he was acting for their benefit as well as his.
Scarlett’s question had startled him. “I guess she is.”
“Your father says you’ve known her for years.”
The way she tightened her mouth told him he’d said more than that. Ethan didn’t want to know. He didn’t need to know. He’d heard his father’s poison before. “Only casually. But I wouldn’t call her sweet, exactly.”
“Oh?”
“She’s heavily into computers and gaming. A geek.”
“Geeks are sweet.”
The idea of Vi being sweet made him smile. “Cute, I guess, but she runs with a weird crowd. I don’t understand half of what they say.”
Scarlett’s eyes crinkled at the corners in the expression that endeared her to him. She was smiling without moving her lips. “That doesn’t mean she’s not sweet. Her father’s pressuring her into seducing you.”
“I know. I claimed a dance with her while you were busy with my father. I told her to tell him whatever she liked. But I’m not marrying her.” He wouldn’t tell Scarlett what else Vi had told him, because it wasn’t his secret to tell. But Violet was planning her escape. If he could, he’d help her. He just wouldn’t marry her.
The journey back to the penthouse was much shorter than the trip there. They’d had to wait until their turn came to step out on to the red carpet. These affairs were highly regimented, with some guests opting to use a private entrance, and others at the front. From a social event it had become a place to show off. The guests might as well turn up, walk the carpet and go home, for all the interaction they did.
Not
much networking happened at these big events. That went on at dinners and more private affairs, and then in secret meetings held in hotel rooms, or boardrooms.
Like the one next week. With Scarlett by his side, Ethan could conquer this one. She’d handled this evening and the challenges thrown at her like a pro. He’d never felt more confident.
Chapter Thirteen
Scarlett sat stiffly upright until she returned to the penthouse, the only place she felt safe. Next to her, Ethan worked on his laptop. They had traveled to and from his office like this for the last week, preparing for the board meeting. Now it was over, they had assessed what they had.
Nothing was ever straightforward.
Ethan didn’t say a word until they were back in the apartment with the door firmly closed behind them. Ethan turned to face her. “When were you going to tell me that you told my father about the Woodward?”
She hadn’t expected that. “What are you talking about?” Turning, she hung her jacket up on the stand and went through to the main room.
Ethan followed. “He knew I’d bought it. He could have found out that you sold it, but not who bought it. You must have told him that.”
“Why?” Jumping to conclusions, much?
“Because everyone else involved in the transaction was sworn to secrecy. I trust them with everything.” He rapped out his reasoning with sharp clarity. No emotion crossed his face, so by that Scarlett knew he was furious. “What else does he know?”
That hurt. He was saying he didn’t know her as well. “How do I know? I told him nothing. Why would I?”
Ethan turned away, running a hand over his short-cropped hair. He’d had it cut into a new style, super-short, almost a buzz cut. Scarlett didn’t like it, but when she’d told him, he’d said that style meant he could leave it a while before he went back to the barber. “I don’t know, but nobody else has.”
“Maybe he has his spies, too. I didn’t tell him.”
His shoulders stiffened, the muscles tightening but he didn’t turn around. “I’ll need more than that, Scarlett. If you let that slip, what else did you tell him?”
She stood still, but her hands, held loose by her sides, clenched into fists. “Nothing.” She was tired of this. “I told him nothing. He could have worked out the sale for himself. Think about it, Ethan. You’re with me, and I sold my hotel. You’re in the hotel business.”
A curse escaped his lips before he turned back to her. This time his expression had relaxed, and she saw the strain he was under. The shadows under his eyes and the lines bracketing his mouth weren’t there a week ago. He’d spent every day and most of the nights checking his figures, working out stratagems and tactics. All to thwart his rapacious family.
Scarlett hadn’t realized just what he was up against until she’d sat next to him in the airy, spacious room that had turned out to be one of the seven levels of hell. Dante had nothing on this.
They took turns proposing measures that Ethan had rejected, but despite his opposition, some of them had passed. All of them had nothing to do with the prosperity of the Noir Group, and everything with personal gain. One cousin was appointed ambassador, which basically meant he had license to roam the world, claiming a free suite at each hotel which would be left vacant for him.
Suites cost money, and properly managed, were hugely profitable. So Ethan had lost that battle, and the future of each hotel was diminished.
She’d made notes on her phone, but after a while she had become dispirited. She was, like the spouses present, a nonvoting member, which meant Ethan had to fight for every item. The nonfamily members occasionally voted in their own interests, turning down the greediest items. Scarlett suspected they’d been dropped in the minutes to distract Ethan. If so, they’d succeeded.
Night was falling outside, and the automatic back lighting came on, giving the big room a soft glow. “You’re right.” He came to her, resting his hands on her hips, and she relaxed into his touch. “He could have worked it out for himself. And I was an idiot to admit it. I was fighting shadows at that point.” He gave her a wry grin.
Scarlett didn’t have any smiles left in her. She was weary to the bone. “Why do you let them do this to you?”
“Do what?” He stuck his chin out belligerently.
“Lead you on a dance, make you fight every point?”
He swallowed. “Because if I don’t, they’ll pass the measure.”
She hated seeing him so tired. He’d won all the important points, but lost a few. It had cost him a lot of energy and time. “Surely you can do something about it. Get some points struck off the minutes before the board meeting. Tell them to—”
He kissed her before she could specify where she wanted them to do. A gentle, sweet kiss that slowly developed into something stronger. He drew her closer, and she went, pressing her furled nipples against his chest, sending his warmth through the layers of clothing they both wore. Moving closer, she rested her head on his shoulder, immediately finding her place there.
“Come to bed,” he murmured against her lips. “I don’t want to talk about it any more today. I need you.”
“I need you too.” So much that her skin prickled with awareness.
Despite knowing he was distracting her, she wanted him. So badly she felt helpless under the onslaught.
Taking her hand, he led her up the open-plan staircase to the room that had been his, but now was theirs. After undoing her side zip, he slid his hands inside, caressing her skin, stroking her back and drawing her back for another kiss. A series of soft, arousing kisses brought him down her throat to the hollow at the base, where he lingered, dipping his tongue into the small indent while he slid her dress off her shoulders.
She stepped back, letting the garment fall to her feet. Underneath, she had on a pretty white set of lingerie, a new purchase. Finally, she’d given in and taken the credit card he’d given her for a walk. He’d rewarded her with extra attention, and to her shock, he’d torn the first set off her. But this time he unfastened the bra at the clasp with a quick twist of his fingers, pushing it down her arms and away, and accepting the bounty of her breasts in his cupped hands.
Repeated strokes of his thumbs across her nipples sent sensations that made her gasp and her tips harden. “I love that you’re so responsive,” he murmured, dotting soft, teasing kisses over her skin.
She cupped his cheek, the stubble of his early evening beard rasping against her tender palms.
Sliding his big hands down, he caressed her bare hips before bending to push her panties down her legs.
She was naked and he was still dressed. He’d stripped her fast but gently, his caresses speaking of more than sex. He didn’t have to say it, but she knew, she was sure he loved her.
As she loved him.
She’d known it for some time now, the solid realization coming to her in the middle of the night, when he’d been slumbering beside her. She couldn’t imagine sleeping any other way. But she hadn’t told him, not yet. She didn’t want him preoccupied or thinking of something else, but looking at her and listening.
And if he had any courage left, repeating it to her. More than anything else she wanted to hear that, those three words, murmured in the depth of their intimacy.
Lying on the crisp sheets, waiting for him, she enjoyed the show. With his back to her, he unfastened the cuffs of his shirt and slid off the blue garment. His shoulder blades stood out as he moved his shoulders, his arm muscles flexing when he stretched. He worked out every day in his private gym, claiming it was his form of meditation. Maybe she’d try it. But now, she was about to do something much more interesting.
He slid his trousers and underwear off in one motion, bending to kick them off with his shoes and socks. Her mouth watered at the sight of the strong buttocks and thighs. Glancing over his shoulder, he grinned. “Like what you see?”
“I can’t tell you how much.” Her voice had husked with her arousal, and she let him hear how much she wanted him.
But now she did. Grabbing his wrist, she glared at the small packet until he dropped it. “We don’t need that,” she said.
Did she imagine the glint of satisfaction in his eyes? She didn’t care. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, his body inside her in the most intimate way possible.
He turned his attention to her. “Are you ready?”
She nodded.
“Show me.”
His avid stare gave her the courage. Lifting one knee, she rested her foot on the bed while she spread her legs. He took a step down to the end of the bed, and looked. The wetness between her thighs increased, flowing freely over her sex. “That’s it,” he whispered, low and intimate. “I want to see where I’m going. Open yourself.”
Her fingers trembled as she spread the lips of her sex, but she did it because he wanted it, and because the action made her hotter than she’d ever been before.
“So lovely.”
At last, he came to her, planting his left knee beside hers, and swinging his body over her to crouch over her legs. He took over from here, touching her, then spreading her so he could bend his head and take one long lick. Pausing where she crested, her sensitivity peaking at the small nub of flesh at the front, he sucked it into his mouth. Caressing with his tongue while he sucked deep, he stroked her thighs, his blunt fingernails providing a contrasting texture to the motion.
Scarlett cried out, pushing her palms against the mattress as she arched up to him. He urged her back down with a hand over her stomach, pressing gently without stopping. Until a jolt shocked her into crying out, calling his name.
Before she’d come down, he was on her and in her. “That was close.” He drove in, not stopping until he was buried to the hilt. “You are so wet, so good. So responsive.”
Captive Hearts (Hearts on Fire Book 2) Page 16
