by Tee, Marian
"I don't think it was just that," Colton said skeptically. Maybe Sarah had missed the look the billionaire had given him, but Colton hadn't. He had already had a taste of Damian Fox's fist, and suffice to say, once was definitely more than enough.
"Stop looking so worried," Sarah reproved. "I was throwing myself at him every opportunity I got," she reminded him, "and I did it for years. But he never took the bait. What does that tell you?"
"I get your point, but there's just something—-"
"There never was anything between us. That hasn't changed, and it never will," Sarah forced herself to say with a shrug. "Anyway, what's this about you finally having a girlfriend?"
A crooked grin flashed over Colton's lips at Sarah's words. "She's amazing..."
Sarah couldn't help reflecting over the change in their friendship while listening to Colton talk about his girlfriend Beth. Unlike her and Damian, she and Colton had patched things up pretty quickly. He had apologized just a few days following the incident, and she had accepted his apology and gave him an explanation as well for her reaction.
They had become firm friends after that, real friends, in the sense that neither of them had any unrequited feelings for the other. And because they were real friends, Sarah only waited until Colton paused for breath before blurting out her request. "What do you think about pretending to be my fake boyfriend for the weekend?"
"Most dangerous idea ever," he answered promptly, "and not something I'd risk my neck on."
Darkness had long fallen by the time Colton drove her to Josiah's fancy digs in Jackson Hole, and she still hadn't stopped nagging him about a fake relationship.
"Come on, Colt," she wheedled as she got out of his car. "Be a good sport—-"
"Shit! Do you see that?"
Sarah followed his line of gaze and started in surprise when she saw Damian standing on the porch while deep in discussion with Tommy.
"You told me he wouldn't be here," Colton hissed under his breath.
"Obviously, I'm wrong," Sarah hissed back. "Last time I checked, being wrong isn't a crime—-"
"Easy for you to say," Colton snarled.
"You're a professional football player, for heaven's sake! Start acting like it!"
And as the two of them continued bickering sotto voce, neither was aware of how deceptive their posture appeared, with their heads bent close to each other and their bodies nearly touching. The whole thing smacked of romance, and the sight had the billionaire fit to kill.
Damian strode forward to deliberately place himself between the two, and as Sarah and Colton jumped away from each other, he didn't miss the way the pair exchanged nervous looks with each other.
Oh God. Sarah couldn't help but sneak an anxious look towards Damian. Could he have heard what they were talking about?
I'm fucking dead. Colton could feel himself losing color as the billionaire's chilling gaze settled on him. Could Damian have misunderstood Sarah's whispers about (faking) passionate kisses?
Damian, mistaking their worry for looks of guilt, had to clench and unclench his fists several times before he was properly rid of the urge to beat the shit out of the younger man. Turning to Colton, he said in a treacherously soft voice, "We're about to have dinner inside. Would you like to join us?"
Colton, who was no idiot, shook his head. "Thanks for the offer, but I, ah..." He tried to think of an excuse, found himself too nervous to come up with any, and decided to simply let it end at that. "I should go now." And without meeting Sarah's gaze, he turned away, got back into his car, and sped off.
"You deliberately scared him," Sarah accused him.
Damian's shrug was dismissive. "I can't control how other people react to me."
Sarah couldn't help rolling her eyes. "Do you even care how arrogant that sounds?"
Damian didn't even bother answering her and instead placed his hand on the small of her back, saying, "Let's go in. Father and Naomi are already waiting."
It was Sarah's turn not to speak, mostly because she didn't trust herself to. It had been ages since she last felt his hand on her back like this, and just like before, his every touch was heaven and hell all rolled into one.
Naomi burst into tears the moment she saw Damian and Sarah walk in together. "I'm so happy."
"Oh, Mom." Sarah rushed forward to give her mother a hug. "I'm so sorry for making you feel bad."
"It's fine." Naomi hugged her back tightly. "Everything's fine, now that we're all together again."
And for a time, it was really just like before, and Sarah couldn't remember being this happy in years. Josiah and Damian were arguing over everything under the sun, Naomi was doing her best to play peacemaker, while Sarah...well, just this once, Sarah was back to her old ways as she earnestly sided with Damian on every matter.
"You can't be serious, Sarah," Josiah blustered.
"But I am." Sarah smiled up at Damian. "He's always right because he's the smartest guy in the world."
Josiah groaned, Naomi laughed, and Damian...well, usually, the billionaire either snorted or grunted at this, but tonight he did neither. Tonight, he gently ran his knuckles down her cheek, and as she trembled at his unexpected touch, he looked straight down into her eyes, saying quietly, "You're wrong."
"Then you're admitting it," Josiah crowed triumphantly. "You're an idiot—-"
"I suppose I am."
"Yes or no, son," Josiah insisted.
"If you insist on it, then yes. I am an idiot." Damian let go of Sarah as he turned to Josiah, saying sardonically, "I must be one, for letting her walk out of my life."
Nine
Sarah was distraught, and it had her lying on bed for hours, staring blankly at her ceiling. She couldn't stop thinking about how disastrous last night's dinner was, thanks to Damian's bombshell of an admission. His words had made her this close to booking a flight back to Miami and begging for her old job back, but after taking several deep breaths, she had somehow found the strength to paste a smile on her lips while playfully wagging a finger at his too-handsome face. 'I'm not so easily fooled like before, Mr. Fox. You're just pulling all our legs here, aren't you?'
To which, the billionaire had simply leaned back against his seat and drawled, 'Is that what I'm doing?'
'Yup!' And she had ended the conversation there by lying about having promised to give Colton a call just so she could excuse herself from the table.
She closed her eyes, attempting for the nth time to fall asleep, but memories kept intruding, and oh God, even now, she could still remember, very, very vividly, the way his knuckles had felt against her cheek...
Aaaaaargh!
Sarah covered her face with a pillow.
Argh! Argh! Argh!
What was that guy planning, anyway? This was obviously another manifestation of his dog-in-the-manger attitude, and she had to do something about it before she ended up...before she ended up doing something crazier, like falling in love—-
A knocking sound against the door interrupted her thoughts, and Sarah shot up to a sitting position.
"I know you're awake."
Before she could react, she already heard the knob turning, and by the time Sarah turned towards the door, Damian had already stepped inside the room and was shutting the door closed behind him.
Oh God!
When Damian turned back to face her, Sarah had the covers up to her chin, and she was staring at him with a wary expression on her face. Yet another example of how different she was now, the billionaire thought broodingly. In the past, she had not only taken every chance to parade around him in skimpy nightgowns, but in those instances, the invitation in her dark gaze had also made it very clear she would more than welcome his advances.
This time, however...
"I already saw what you're wearing," the billionaire said dryly, "and the blanket you're wrapped in is a lot sexier." And almost as if he couldn't help himself, he then asked in a pained tone, "Green Hulk shirt and purple shorts? Don't you have any pride?"
/>
Oh.
And because she could see in his eyes that he was telling the truth, she immediately threw the covers off her and saw him wince.
"You know how some clothes look better at second glance?" Damian asked.
"Yes—-"
"Your choice of sleepwear isn't one of them."
Sarah burst into laughter.
"And unfortunately, I am not kidding."
The way his lip curled was just too much, and she ended up literally rolling on the bed while clutching her stomach.
"That's better, love."
She gasped, caught by surprise by how dangerously near he sounded, and when she opened her eyes, it was to realize that she had somehow ended up flat on her back on the bed while an impossibly sexy Damian loomed over her.
Shit!
She immediately tried rolling away, but his hands had suddenly landed on each side of her body, caging her in an instant.
Dark eyes full of disbelief flew up to him. "What do you think you're doing?"
"I want to talk," Damian said tautly, "and I need you to hear me out."
"I promise I'll listen, just let me—-"
"Unfortunately, little Sarah, I don't trust you to keep your word."
"I'm going to shout for help," she threatened.
Damian laughed. "And what exactly do you think will happen when you do?"
"Josiah—-"
"Will spread the word that I've compromised you," he finished dryly, "and you'll find yourself walking down the aisle in a shotgun wedding."
Her mouth opened and closed. Shit. He was right. "Naomi—-"
"Will never dream to interfere."
"The staff—-"
"Are a bunch of romantics."
Shit. Shit. Shit. Everything he said was true, which meant she was completely left to his mercies.
Damian's blue eyes narrowed. "You get it now, don't you?"
"Just say what you want," she muttered, "and then get the—-"
"Stop that." Damian's voice was gentle but firm. "You're only hurting yourself more than you're hurting me."
"I'm not—-"
"You've never been the type to find pleasure in being rude to people," he said evenly, "and you never will."
Sarah's chest started hurting. Why, God, why did this man have to know her so well—-
"You give me too much credit, love. If I had known you as well as you think I did, then I'd have trusted you more..." His voice was light, but his gaze sober, and the pain in her chest grew at just how foolishly easy he found it to read her mind.
"I don't get why you're talking about trust," Sarah said jerkily. "It was never an issue between us—-'
"It was. You just didn't know it."
And then he was pulling away, and as she quickly scrambled up to a sitting position, he retreated to sit at the edge of her bed, his form rigid stiff.
"I grew up missing and loving and hating my mother. Did you know that?"
Sarah shook her head. She knew precious little about his mother since neither Damian nor Josiah had ever seemed inclined to talk about the woman that had once been an important part of their lives.
"She never asked about me, never gave a damn about me, and even though I knew I was being stupid, I even went to college in London just to be near her. But I didn't even get a fucking single call, and for a long fucking time, I blamed myself for her inability to love me. There must be something wrong with me, something that no woman could be capable of loving. She was my mother, Sarah. She gave birth to me, and she couldn't even be bothered to remember my birthday. And then you came...someone who hadn't any obligation to love me..."
Damian turned to her then, and the emptiness in his gaze made Sarah's chest start hurting again.
"Do you understand now," he asked tonelessly, "why I still don't believe you could've been in love with me all those years?"
Sarah couldn't speak. She was lost in the past, memories of the times they were together streaming into her mind. Those memories used to hurt, and what she remembered the most was the last day she had seen each other, and she had asked, Why can't you love me?
Now, she knew.
But too much time had passed, and he had hurt her far too much to matter.
"All this time, I forced myself to stay away—-"
"Stop."
"I tried to convince myself it was for the better."
"I don't want to hear another word," she said jerkily.
"But when I saw you again—-"
She tried covering her ears, and God, it was just like before. He was suddenly close, too painfully close, and she fell back against the headboard of her bed as he pushed her arms down.
"I can't fucking pretend anymore," Damian said rawly. "I love you—-"
A sob escaped her.
"I love you—-"
"It's too late," she whispered brokenly.
Damian whitened.
"I c-can't—-"
But she could no longer speak, with his mouth cutting her words off with a deep, hard kiss.
The kiss stunned Sarah to the core, rendering her frozen in his hold. It had been so long. So, so long, and oh, the feel of his lips...it was even agonizingly sweeter than she had ever allowed herself to remember, and if she had still been the old Sarah, she would've let the kiss do its usual job and have it sweep her off her feet. But things had changed. She knew better now, knew and remembered enough that she couldn't afford to let the past happen all over again.
But even so, it hurt to hear herself whisper, "No."
It broke her heart to deny him, and a part of her was already shaking in fear, dreading the moment he might force her to reject him again.
But that moment never came.
The billionaire pulled away, and when he rose to his feet, she couldn't help looking up—-
Ah.
The look in his eyes said everything.
He had only let her go because he had known it would hurt her even more to say no to him again, and the knowledge killed her, her hands flying up to cover her mouth just as a heavy sob tore out of her throat. She tried to end it there, willing herself to stop crying, but the tears only fell faster, and when another sob escaped her lips, she heard him curse under his breath—-
And then he was leaning down.
"No—-" She couldn't let him kiss her again. Didn't think she'd be able to handle it. "Damian—-"
But all he did was gently wipe the tears off her cheeks.
"I obviously need a lot more practice in not making you cry."
She choked back a teary laugh.
"Hush now, love. We'll talk more tomorrow."
"I don't want—-"
"Tough." But his voice was casual, and he was also reaching for her as he spoke, and before she knew it, the billionaire had her tucked back under the covers. "Good night, Sarah."
She flipped to her side and pointedly refused to answer even as her stomach started churning at the rudeness of it all.
"Just say good night back." The billionaire's tone was faintly amused. "There are other and better ways to get back at me, but doing something that you hate isn't one of them."
Shit. Shit. Shit.
"You're already beating yourself up for it, aren't you?"
"Okay, fine," she snarled without looking back. "Good night. Happy now?"
A lazy chuckle was her answer, followed by three words delivered in a soft, wicked tone. "That's my girl."
Aaaaaaaaaaargh!
Ten
Naomi's birthday party officially started the next day, and with it Fox Lodge temporarily closed its doors to guest bookings while transforming itself to a Great Gatsby-themed paradise. The party also came with a structured itinerary, and the first item in the program had the whole family welcoming guests and escorting them to the three key areas for morning entertainment: women were directed to the patio for a winter spa brunch, the kids were taken to the play area at the basement, while the men were escorted to the library.
Over a hundred g
uests had been invited to celebrate Naomi's fortieth, and Sarah was more than happy to find out that all of them had confirmed attendance. The more, the merrier, Sarah thought, believing the sheer size of the party's guest list would not only keep her busy but also safe from any possibly nefarious plan of a certain billionaire.
Or so she thought.
A guy had just come up to her, introducing himself as someone playing for the NFL, when an arm suddenly curved around her waist, and Sarah stiffened, knowing who it was without having to look.
"It's nice to see you again, Garth," Damian drawled.
"Yeah, you, too, Fox."
When the other guy's questioning gaze swung between Sarah and the billionaire, Damian said easily, "Sarah's my stepsister."
"Right." The younger man couldn't seem to stop staring at the way Damian's fingers were idly caressing Sarah's hip. "That's, ah, cool." And then he coughed and cleared his throat, saying, "Anyway, I gotta go."
"What the hell was that?" Sarah burst out as soon as the football player was out of earshot.
The billionaire lowered his head, his arm tightening around her waist as he whispered straight into her ear, "Marking my territory."
Aaaaargh!
Color burst in her cheeks, and she waited until she was sure no one was looking at them before stomping on his foot as hard as she could. It had Damian grunting in pain, but Sarah didn't care. "Stop messing around!"
"It's not as if you truly found him attractive," Damian dismissed with typical arrogance. "You saw the look on his face when he found out you're my stepsister. Men like him will never be able to defend you—-"
"I don't need defending—-"
"You don't," the billionaire agreed silkily, "but you wouldn't mind it either if I were the one doing the defending." His tone turned pensive. "What was it that you used to like saying about us? You'd happily be the sub to my—-"
"Will you shut up?"
"Only if you call me what you used to call me."
