Sunday looked at Carmen. “Angelina’s coming here?”
Carmen nodded. “River called her this afternoon, told her they had to talk. Angelina invited herself. She’ll be here for the weekend.”
Sunday felt a lurch of unease. A piece of her own New York history coming here, to her safe haven? Would Angelina recognize her? “The weekend? Damn it, I can’t be here.” She would make up some excuse to be away, not to risk her identity being found out. Damn it all to hell … why now? When River needed her so badly?
Carmen shook her head. “It’s okay. I doubt she’ll stay long when she hears what River has to say.” She cut her eyes to Berry and said no more. Sunday nodded, but sighed inwardly.
She was still thinking about her last meeting with the Upper East Side charity maven. Sunday—or rather, Marley—had been looking into a pyramid scheme that had been operating in the highest of New York’s society and had taken a call from Angelina, who invited her to interview her about a charity cotillion she was hosting.
The interview turned out to be little more than a guarded threat—shut your mouth about the pyramid scheme or I’ll ruin your career. Sunday hadn’t backed down and had run the piece anyway, albeit mentioning no names. Angelina had been furious and had done everything in her power to ruin Sunday’s career … and had failed.
In the end, though, the small scandal hadn’t affected Angelina’s machinations one iota. She still portrayed herself as a victim in every situation and traded on her fading good looks, not wanting to admit there were younger, more beautiful women in her circle, waiting to take her place.
Sunday had always regarded her as kind of pathetic but now that she knew the depths of her evil, she wished she had gone all in on her.
“Too late now.” Sunday finished up her work and went home for the night.
At home, she dug out the burner phone and called Sam, telling him about the Angelina situation. “The problem is,” she told him, “I want to be there for River and Berry, but the thought of her recognizing me …”
“I understand. Look, yeah, it’s a concern, but wasn’t this a few years ago? Do you think she’d recognize you?”
Sunday stared at her reflection in the window and was suddenly unsure. She looked so different … would Angelina know her? “I don’t know.”
“Maybe hiding away when you’re obviously connected to the family would be more conspicuous,” Sam said kindly. “And of course, we don’t know that even if she identified you, it would make a difference. I say keep things as normal as possible.”
“Sam?”
“Yes, Sunday?”
She hesitated for a moment. “Are you any closer to finding out who he is? The man who shot me and killed Cory?”
“No, sweetheart, I’m sorry. He’ll obviously know by now that you’ve left your old life, but whoever he is, he’s careful.”
“I just wish I knew what he looked like or who he was. It’s bad enough knowing someone wants to kill me, let alone not knowing who or why.”
“Sometimes these things are so out of left field. You did the best thing, letting us move you away from New York.”
“I never thought I would say this but yes. Weirdly, I feel like I have a life here now.”
Sam chuckled. “Well, that’s good news.”
Sunday didn’t tell him that she and River were in the beginnings of a relationship. For one thing, she didn’t know what was going to happen now. She found she couldn’t sleep and looked out of her window to see if Daisy’s coffeehouse was still open.
A warm light glowed from within. Sunday threw her jacket over her sweats and went across. Daisy wasn’t working, instead her barista, George, was on duty. Sunday didn’t know him as well so she grabbed her coffee and went to find a seat.
The coffeehouse was almost empty at midnight. An elderly woman nodded politely at Sunday as she sat down. Sunday sipped her coffee, trying to calm her mind from its state of turmoil. The main thing was to support River and Berry through this crisis … nothing else mattered.
She heard the bell jangle at the door and looked up to see a young man enter. He was tall, olive-skinned, and had a shock of dark curls. He smiled at her, his dark brown eyes merry, and then headed for the counter. Sunday looked away, not wanting to intrude, but then she heard him say hello. “Mind if I sit? I’ve been driving all day on my own and I could do with some company.”
“Not at all.”
She guessed he was around the same age as her, late twenties, and he had a joyful, fun-loving demeanor. He was a flirt, too, and he made her giggle as he introduced himself. “Tony Marchand,” he said, shaking her hand. “All the way from Seattle, Washington.”
“What brings you to our little town, Tony?”
“Snowboarding,” he said. “I heard the ski place here was second to none so I thought I’d come see if they needed any help.”
“It’s the end of the season, almost.”
Tony shrugged. “I know, but I thought I’d risk it. If not, I’ll work anywhere. I just needed to get away.”
“Bad breakup?” She guessed and he laughed, coloring a little.
“You saw right through me. Were you born here?”
She shook her head. “No, California. I moved here a few months back.”
“Friendly town?”
Sunday nodded. “Very. I’m sure you won’t have any trouble fitting in.”
“Hey, did I hear River Giotto lives here? The artist? Man, his work … it’s sublime. When I was surfing last year, there was a guy with some of Giotto’s work on his board. Man, I wanted that board.”
Sunday smiled at him. “Yes, River lives here, but he’s kind of reclusive.”
“You know him?”
And how … “I work for him.”
“Damn, you’re the person to know.” He looked at her admiringly. “And, if it isn’t creepy to say, you’re really hot.”
Sunday chuckled. “Thank you, that’s sweet, but I’m kind of seeing someone.”
“Just my luck.”
“Where are you staying?”
“Out at the Cadillac Motel, on the highway. It’s pretty clean, and cheap.”
Sunday nodded. “Well, what I’ve learned is that this place is pretty much the hub of town. You need contacts, ask around in here.”
“I will, thanks.”
They spoke for a few more minutes, then Sunday said goodbye. She walked back over to her apartment and up the stairs. She almost shrieked with shock when a figure appeared out of the darkness.
River.
“God, you scared me,” she said, half-laughing, half-pissed, but River didn’t smile.
“I’m sorry. I just had to see you so I came into town. Who was the guy?”
Ah. “Some dude who’s new in town. He just wanted some advice on jobs.”
“And he asked you?”
Sunday was a little irked by River’s tone. “Well, I suppose he asked whoever was around. That being me. Do you want to come in?”
She unlocked her door and River followed her in. He seemed on edge, and for the first time, Sunday wondered if he had taken something. She made him look at her. No. He wasn’t high, he was just distressed. “River … I was just talking to the guy. I even told him I wasn’t available, if that makes you feel better.”
River sat down on her couch and she sat by him. “Is it this thing with Angelina?”
He nodded. “I just … I wanted to forget for a night. Carmel is back at the Castle. She said she’d stay with Berry tonight.”
Sunday took his hand. “Come lie down with me.”
He was still tense, even as she slowly undressed him. She pressed her lips to his, running her hand over his bare chest. “Touch me, River.”
He slid his hands down her waist, his fingers moving to the zipper of her jeans. She stepped out of them and pulled him down onto the bed. She tangled her fingers in his dark curls as they kissed, then, as River moved his body on top of hers, she heard him whisper, “Are you mine?”
They took their time, which was unusual for them. Usually, an animal fire overtook their lovemaking, but tonight, it was more about discovery. In essence, she knew, they were still strangers, but tonight it seemed as if River was trying to give more of himself to her, even if he couldn’t tell her about his past.
He trailed his fingers down her belly, stopping at the small scar at the side of her navel. “What’s this?”
“You didn’t see it before?” She played for time, knowing that if she lied, he’d know.
River waited, the look in his eyes telling her that this was an important moment. Sunday drew in a deep breath. “I was shot. Last year. When I told you my fiancé was hit by a car, that was a lie. He was shot too. He died.”
River sat up. “Jesus. Jesus, Sunday …”
Sunday sat up. “When I told you about the stalker … it was him. Or someone he sent to kill us. The thing is … there is more. But if I trust you with the information, it could mean he finds me.”
River ran his hand through his hair. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, Sunday. Ever.”
“And I won’t let Angelina Marshall hurt you or take Berry. But, River, if we’re going to trust each other, if this is going to work between us … you have to tell me what she did to you.”
He stared at her for a long time, then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded. “Okay. Okay …”
And for the next two hours, River Giotto told her everything.
Chapter Ten
Then …
River sat in his room, his headphones on, pretending to finish his term paper, but really sketching. He had no need to worry about the paper—he was at the top of his class for everything—even with a B-grade he would still finish miles ahead of everyone else.
Nerd problems, he grinned to himself, then jumped as he heard someone open his door. His heart sank.
Angelina, his father’s new wife, stood in the doorway, backlit, her body showing through the flimsy robe she was wearing. River sat up and took his headphones off, winding the cord around them carefully. Why did he always feel like this with Angelina? He had hated her on sight, not just because she dared to assume the mantle of ‘mother’ to him, trying to replace his beloved ma. Worse though, were the times she was alone with him, and she made her intentions clear. Ludo might have been her target, but River was the prize she craved. Only a few years older than him, she had waited, through the courtship, then her marriage to his father, before making her move.
River had rebuffed her constantly but every time she was near, his heart pounded uncomfortably and he felt like cringing away from her.
“Where’s Dad?” he asked now, keeping his tone even.
Angelina smiled, no warmth in her eyes. “Still at the party. I was tired so I took a cab home.”
“Well, good night, then.”
Ha. No such luck. Angelina came into the room and sat down by him. He leaned away from her but she cupped his cheek in her hand. “River. My darling River. Do you even realize how beautiful you are? Look at you.”
She turned his head so that he faced the mirror. All he saw were his mother’s green eyes, huge with tension and terror. He hated feeling this way. Would a man really be this terrified? No. He had to stand up to her. He got up off the bed but she was too quick for him. She darted to the door and locked it.
“No. Not this time, River.”
He drew himself up to his full height, already six-foot-two at just sixteen. “I’ll tell my father.”
Angelina smiled, cat-like and merciless. “Oh, I don’t think you will. All it would take for me is to say one word to him.”
“He wouldn’t believe you.”
She laughed. “Sweetheart, I’ve been planting the seeds since before he married me. Have you seen the way your son looks at me, Ludo? Isn’t his teenage crush adorable, Ludo?” She walked towards him. “Hasn’t he grown strong, Ludo? What would a weak little woman like me do against all that brute strength … Ludo.”
River couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Her hand snaked down to cup his cock through his jeans and he staggered back, the edge of his bed slamming the back of his knees and then he was falling …
Chapter Eleven
Tears were pouring down Sunday’s face as River spoke, his voice a monotone. “It went on for a couple of years, until I could escape to college. But the damage had been done. I fucked my way through college, treating women like trash. I suppose it was my way of revenge. I wouldn’t let anyone close. Luke, Carmen, they stuck around long after I told them to go to hell.”
He rubbed his hands through his hair. “My dad … he never knew. I hope he never knew. I just … I wish I had asked him why. Why he married her, of all people. He must have known she was a …” He broke off and laughed without humor. “I don’t even know a word strong enough for what she is.”
“That evil fucking piece of bottom-feeding scum,” Sunday growled, incensed. She got up and paced around her flat. “That fucking bitch!” She screamed that last and River gave her a half-smile.
“Yeah, that’ll do.”
“I could kill her. I will fucking kill her …” Sunday felt the same white-hot heat of the rage she had felt when Cory died coursing through her veins. “These people … God. What gives them the right?”
“Nothing and no one. But they still do it.”
Sunday sat down next to him and took his face in her hands. “She won’t get away with this. I swear to you, right here, right now, River Giotto. She won’t even get to be in the same room as you or Berry, I’ll make sure of that.”
River held her tightly. “I love your fire.”
“No … no, it’s more than that.” Sunday took a breath in. “River … I know her. Or rather, I knew her.”
River’s smile faded. “What?”
Sunday sighed. “My name isn’t Sunday Kemp. Well, at least, it didn’t used to be. My name was Marley Locke, I was an investigative reporter, and then an anchor in New York. The part I told you about my stalker is true, and so the FBI gave me a new identity after he tried to kill me. But before that, a few years ago, I crossed swords with Angelina. She’s a con artist and scammer of the highest order … I embarrassed her in the press, but she still came back swinging.”
Sunday sighed, waiting for River to get angry. He touched her face. “You had to leave everything behind.”
She nodded. “Everything.” She chuckled. “And the moment I met you, I didn’t regret a thing. I’m more me here, with you, and Berry and Carmen, than I ever was in New York.”
“Marley.” He was looking at her as if he was trying to make the name fit. She kissed him softly.
“Sunday. Your Sunday. Always.”
He leaned his forehead against hers. “I have trust issues, I always have. But with you …”
“I’ll never betray you, ever,” she whispered and with a groan he crushed his lips against hers.
“Let’s forget everything about for tonight, everything except you and me …” He slid his hands under her T-shirt and with one swift move, pulled it over her head. He pulled down the lacy cup of her bra and took her nipple into his mouth. Sunday sighed with pleasure, dropping her lips to the top of his head.
River moved her to the floor and pushed her jeans down as his lips trailed down her belly. As his tongue found her clit, Sunday shivered, tangling her fingers in his dark curls. “Oh, River … River …”
“I’m going to fuck you all night long, pretty girl.”
His tongue flicked and teased her until she was moaning for him to be inside her and, grinning, he launched his cock deep into her, pinning her hands above her head.
“You’re so tight, Sunday, so much like velvet.”
Sunday smiled up at him. “Only for you, baby.”
River kissed her, his tender embrace contrasting to the pummeling his cock was giving her cunt. “You know I’m falling hard for you, right?”
“Ditto,” she
chuckled, then gasped as he quickened his pace, slamming his hips against hers. He made her come twice before whispering to her that she should roll onto her stomach.
“Yes?”
She nodded, then moaned as he eased into her ass. Anal was something she’d never done before, even with Cory, and she was astonished to find she loved it with River. He was gentle and caring and the strange new sensations shooting through her body made her scream his name.
They showered together, fucking against the cool tile, then tumbling, laughing, to the bathroom’s cold, tiled floor.
It was almost dawn before they broke apart, panting for air, exhausted and sated. “As much as I want you,” Sunday laughed, breathless, “I don’t think my vagina can take anymore tonight.”
“This morning,” he corrected, snickering. “And I’m ashamed to say you’ve exhausted this old man.”
“You are not old,” she said, stroking his face. “You are the most devastatingly beautiful man I’ve ever met, inside and out. Yes, you have demons, but God, I’m crazy about you, River Giotto, and I swear. We are going to get our happy ever after.”
River took her hand and kissed her fingers. “Was there a life before you?”
“I used to think there was. Now all I care about is us, our little family. Not that I’m presuming anything.”
“Presume away. We are a family.” River stroked his finger down her cheek. “I’m going to tell Berry about us. She knows we like each other—hell, anyone could guess that—and it wasn’t as if Lindsay and I were sleeping together when we were traveling.”
Sunday was surprised. “You weren’t?”
River smiled. “No. I had already fallen for someone.”
Sunday flushed with pleasure as he kissed her. Oh, how I love you … But she didn’t say it aloud. They had come great strides tonight, in trusting each other, in deciding their future.
For now, she only had one thing on her mind.
Stop Angelina Marshall.
Chapter Twelve
The Hottest Daddy Page 7
