by Nikki Logan
‘It’s a lot to take in.’
‘I’m not sure who I feel more betrayed by—him or you.’
She turned to him. ‘How could I tell you? It had to be him.’
‘You’ve known all week. This is why you were so weird about the party.’
‘I suspected.’
‘You thought I was your brother. What the hell were you doing coming out with me at all?’
‘You came to my house.’
‘You should have just told me to hit the road.’
‘I’m not very skilled in that kind of brush-off, strange as it might seem to you. I handled it as best I could under the circumstances.’
Surely, he couldn’t fail to remember the many different ways she’d kept him at arm’s length.
‘Must have been highly entertaining for you to watch me hitting on my own sister.’
That would have stung if she’d thought for a moment he meant it. ‘It was awful. I wanted to tell you, I wanted to share the information and the anxiety and have someone I could talk to about it. I thought I had a whole other family.’ Her voice tightened. ‘I was so excited.’
And yet dreading it at the same time because of what it meant for them.
His eyes slid down to hers. Softened. ‘But you don’t.’
Her heart sank. ‘No. I’m back to being alone.’
Aiden considered his words. ‘I saw the way my father just was with you. Whatever happens I don’t think you’ll be alone. If he could have fathered you I know he would have.’
Tash concentrated on the changing elevator numbers above them, blinking back moisture. Had they always moved this slowly?
‘You’re lucky, you know,’ she eventually said. ‘To have him.’
‘Really? A workaholic adulterer incapable of loving the mother of his child?’
Pain seeped from his words. ‘I’m not saying it’s not a tragedy. But he’s a good man, no matter what he’s done in the past. He saved my mother’s life. And mine, probably. And he did the right thing by Laura. Twice.’
‘It’s good to see that you have such a strong streak for forgiveness. You might even be able to see past my apparently numerous imperfections.’
‘He loves you, Aiden. He’s just worried for you.’
His dark head shook.
‘We wouldn’t be human if we didn’t have flaws, Aiden.’
‘Really?’ He rounded on her. ‘What are yours?’
Tash shrugged. ‘I say what I think way too readily. I believe in the best in others even after I’ve experienced their worst.’
‘Is that a polite way of saying you’re gullible?’
‘I mean for a girl who had my upbringing I’m surprisingly fast to trust.’
His snort echoed around the large, empty parking floor as they stepped out into it. ‘You must be joking.’
‘What?’
‘It took me weeks to earn your trust. I consider it somewhat of a milestone the day I did.’
‘What day was that?’
‘The paddle boats. So it was a short honeymoon.’
‘Perhaps some people just shouldn’t be trusted.’
His tight lips split into a wolfish smile. ‘Oh, honey... Truer words have never been spoken.’
They fell to silence for the bulk of the journey back to her cottage, his eyes grazing her periodically.
‘You realise what today means?’ he finally said, pulling into her street.
She dragged her eyes back from faraway thoughts. ‘That I’m not the bastard child of a good man.’ She was just the good child of a bastard.
His eyes shimmered for a half-breath, compassionate and understanding, but then he pulled up outside her gate, turned sideways on his luxury leather seat and faced her fully. ‘Today means we’re not related. Today means there’s no reason we can’t be together. Unless you have another hurdle queued up for me.’
‘I didn’t set this one up, intentionally.’
‘It was convenient though, wasn’t it? To keep me at a safe distance. What will keep you safe now?’
She stared at him. ‘That’s the thing, Aiden. I do feel safe with you.’
‘You did say you were too quick to trust.’
The laugh burst out of her, reluctant and grudging. ‘Your idea of flirting is kind of screwy.’
He slid an arm across behind her seat. ‘This isn’t flirting, honey. It’s foreplay.’
And that was working, too. The whole bad-boy-with-promise-in-his-eye thing had her pulse racing and her palms dampening. And it was impossible to forget that she’d got one secret wish even while being denied the other.
Aiden was not her brother. No shared DNA.
She practically tumbled out of the car and up her short garden path. Aiden followed her up the couple of steps to her house. At the door, she unlocked it and then turned to face him. ‘Thank you for the ride.’
He lifted one brow. ‘I’m coming in.’
Her breath tightened up in her chest. ‘I thought you wanted some thinking space.’
‘Change of plans. I have no interest in thinking about any of it. Not right now.’
‘You can’t just avoid it.’
‘Yeah, I can.’ He pressed her back against the door and whispered against her lips just before his touched hers. ‘Watch me.’
His lips descending towards hers were like a homecoming. She’d wanted this—and loathed herself because of it. Her body clearly knew the truth even as her mind couldn’t accept it. But now there was nothing standing in the way of the kiss she wasn’t even trying to run from.
Her lungs inflated just as he sealed her mouth with his, the soft, firm, heavenly pressure causing a riot in her nerve endings. The warmth of his skin against hers, the tickle of his breath and the pressure of his arms as they circled behind her. The firm press of hard body against soft.
And the insane explosion of the chemistry that zinged between them. It surged through her system, triumphant at finally being able to express itself, and pooled in her lower half, robbing her legs of strength. She twisted her arms up around the neck she had no good reason not to twist around, and kissed the lips that she had no good reason not to kiss.
And she was lost—the moment she tasted him.
The moment she felt his tongue and lips lapping against her own, exploring and teasing. Her body rejoiced at being back in his arms again; this man she’d believed she’d never be able to look in the eye, let alone kiss.
Her head actually spun with all the blood rushing to it and away again.
‘Inside,’ he mumbled against her lips.
His arm at her waist released her long enough to fumble around behind her lower back, before tightening again and supporting her as the door swung inwards.
She stumbled back into her own living room, shunted by the steam engine that was Aiden, and he kicked the door shut behind them. Every part of her wanted to launch at him, to press him back against the wall and climb all over him. But old fear held her back, and she waited to see what his next move would be. But not for long. As soon as the door clicked into place he forked his long fingers into her hair, pulling it back from the feverish face he framed between his palms. He stared into her eyes, one thumb sliding over to make sure her lips didn’t get lonely as he spoke. ‘I’ve wanted this since we met.’
‘So, not just physical, then?’ she breathed, amazed that a coherent thought could form, let alone a facetious one. Then she bit into the soft pad of his thumb—unable to ignore it any longer—and he pressed the advantage, sliding it into her mouth and out again as his lips returned.
‘Minx.’ He kissed her, long, hard and drugged. ‘If it was just physical it would have been much easier to ignore.’
The implication provoked her but she wasn’t about to i
ndulge it. ‘You don’t strike me as a man accustomed to self-deprivation.’
Yep. Because this was the right time for conversation. But if she didn’t ease back on the throttle this was going to go a little bit too fast and a little bit too furious. And—though she’d longed for something faster and more furious than Kyle and though the promise of Aiden’s strength spiced her blood—she wanted to savour every moment. In case they were the only moments she ever got.
He tugged on her hair enough to expose the long line of her throat and he murmured into her skin, ‘Just one of my many depravations.’
She laughed gently at the wordplay. ‘Oh, really? What are some others?’
He smiled against her flesh and moved his lips to her ear, hot and seductive. ‘We have all night for those.’
And then his hands left her hair and made their way down her body, stroking and exciting her nerve endings as they went. Every man she’d ever been with had had a heavy touch—demanding, rushed, or clumsy. But Aiden traced the lines of her body as if it were one of her own artworks, discovering her, savouring. Then he took her hands and pinned them behind her body, which he pressed against hard, holding her captive.
The contrast between his feather-light touch and his sheer command boiled her blood even more. She’d had a taste of his strength in the coatroom, and she’d liked it. And she’d wanted to match it. But it wouldn’t be the first time she’d misread someone’s intent. It was too easy to remember Kyle’s shock when she’d stepped up to the sensual challenge he’d posed and then quailed when she’d taken the cue.
Literally quailed. He’d scrabbled backwards from her in his expensive, overly stuffed bed, flushed and uncomfortable, and been sure to dominate any encounter the two of them ever had after that. Not in a good way. In an afraid-of-your-own shadow kind of way. And that was not sexy. It had made her feel dirty and ashamed for rising so enthusiastically to meet Kyle’s sexual bravado that had turned out to be all show.
As if she needed any help with shame.
But Aiden wasn’t Kyle. Far from it. The signals he was sending seemed crystal in their clearness and unshakeable in intent. And he’d spoken before of liking a woman who was bold.
Lord knew she hungered to be bold.
Dare she take this chance? Was that the kind of bold he was really looking for? Someone who took the initiative?
She forced strength into the arms pinned behind her back and circled them up above her head and then back down in front of her. Aiden immediately eased his weight back, letting her escape, but as she brought them back down she shoved him clean in the middle of his chest.
Hard.
He regained his footing against the door, panting, watching her intently. She stood, chest heaving, desperately trying to read his closed expression, and then she did exactly what she’d wanted to since he first stood in the doorway to her workshop, judging her. She pursued him to the wall, pushed him back against it with a thud and tore his shirt open, buttons pinging everywhere.
Outing herself in as graphic a fashion as she could possibly have not wanted to do.
It was the inwards suck of breath that drew her eyes up to his. She hoped it would be surprise and not shock, not dismay. Definitely not anxiety. But she didn’t expect to see the roasting glow of unfettered desire as he challenged, ‘You owe me a shirt.’
No judgement. No distaste. Just...want.
The push of his strong shoulder muscles against the wall was enough to propel them both into the centre of the room, towards the sofa that divided the open space into two parts. As the back of Tash’s thighs hit the upholstered rear of the sofa, she braced herself on its top and met the furious kiss that Aiden meted out.
Met it and matched it.
She curled her fingers into the destroyed remains of his shirt and pulled him towards her, bending backwards over the furniture. One masculine hand stabilised next to her hip and the other fisted in her hair, and he resisted long enough to stare hotly into her eyes.
‘You want to drive?’ he questioned softly.
Her heart hammered so hard it was almost pain, but she embraced even that.
This was it. The defining moment she’d always hoped for. A good man—a beautiful man—giving her control and giving her licence. Creating a safe environment in which to test her limits and offering himself up as her crash test dummy. She had thought that moment just a minute ago was the big risk: turning the tables and revealing this aspect of herself to Aiden, but articulating it—taking the control he was offering—was so much more terrifying.
Because she wanted it so much. And because it meant she wasn’t broken after all.
She just hadn’t yet found her equal.
Astute Aiden read her hesitation. ‘I’ll look after you,’ he vowed, his molten gaze committed.
And he would. She knew it instinctively. Because that was the man he was. All those qualities that split the seams of the bulging ‘brother’ folder hadn’t diminished now that he was officially an ‘other’. His intelligence, his compassion and focus and interest in anything new and challenging, his spirit and his loyalty and values. All the things that had wheedled in under her skin and made him so hard to walk away from. They were highlighted—amplified—by the desire now pumping off him in waves, but they weren’t overruled.
Aiden Moore would look after her until the day he died if he let himself. Look at his concern for his mother. He was a keeper.
It was why she’d fallen for him.
She stared up into the simmering pools of igneous blue as everything fell into place with an inevitable thunk. That was why she felt so connected to him. That was why the threat of having to walk away had hurt so much. That was why she felt safe enough in his arms to expose her deepest secret.
She loved him.
He stroked a loose lock of hair back from her face as if sensing her turmoil, not pushing, but not retreating. Just...waiting.
She took a deep breath. And poured all her trust into her smile.
And reached for him.
ELEVEN
Had there ever been anything quite as beautiful as this moment? Tash spread gloriously naked across her bed. Unconscious. Inelegant. Vulnerable.
All things she would hate most.
And mine.
The word just kept floating back across Aiden’s consciousness no matter how hard he worked to push it away. He loved to make someone his. To brand them. To win them even against their better judgement because they just couldn’t help themselves. A besting.
But, no, this wasn’t that kind of ‘mine’.
This was a whole other beast. A rabid, jealous, protective kind of ‘mine’. The kind of mine that made him want to tiptoe out of here, hunt down Eric Sinclair and slice his belly three ways before morning for hurting her so badly. Or get him arrested and let the other incarcerated filth have at him.
Or even deck his own father for not being hers as well. Simply because she’d wanted it so very much and some part of him had suddenly decided that protecting Tash and meeting her needs was now his job. Which was ridiculous. She’d deck him for even thinking it.
That was not what they were about.
He backed away from the doorway and returned to the kitchen to see if the coffee was ready yet. He’d sought refuge in the kitchen because he didn’t trust himself to lie half sprawled under her and not reach for her again. And she’d earned a rest, God knew.
His beautiful, wild Tash.
No, not his. He’d never had a stronger urge to make that clear to the stars peppering the sky. What they’d just done, what they’d just been to each other was a partnership. Two equals. And that was new for him.
And more than a little bit unsettling.
His father had c
alled him ‘damaged’—charming!—but while his past relationships were about expediency, they were also with decent women. Women who wanted a similar, brief, no-strings exchange. Not quite as special or unique as Tash, granted, but it wasn’t as if he’d picked them up on some street corner.
Sex and power were so intertwined. And he liked to control the power, ergo he controlled the sex. When it happened, where it happened, who it happened with. He might have ceded some of that control to Tash tonight but he’d taken it back by the end of the night, until she begged for his touch. He always did. The physical aspects, the emotional aspects. All tightly marshalled. That was how he liked it. And time was the greatest co-driver a man could have. The shorter the relationship, the more control he wielded.
Amen.
And you know what...? Daddy dearest really wasn’t in a position to criticise his relationship choices given how he’d treated the two most significant women in his life.
Pot. Kettle. Black.
Speaking of which...Aiden flipped the switch on the now fully percolated coffee and splashed a healthy amount plain into one of Tash’s mugs. He’d accepted he wasn’t going to sleep again tonight—his mind was way too busy even as his body wanted him to tumble into satiated slumber—so coffee it was. Black. Strong. And lots of it.
It did only a partial job of purging the guilt he still felt for being so weak.
Ironic that someone who embraced the challenge of corporate conflict so heartily should struggle as he did with personal conflict. But deep-and-meaningful discussions weren’t really done in his family. In his case, he’d also refined the art of finding something—or someone—to convincingly steal focus. And since he’d hit puberty that something was sexual.
Like tonight.
He should have been at home, unable to sleep, working his way through the emotional minefield that was his messed-up family, not here, making Tash into a human displacement activity.
Using her.
The guilt nibbled again. This wasn’t a small deal for her. He’d seen how she struggled to open up with him and let her raw sensuality out. And he knew she didn’t sleep around casually. And—just in case he was missing the point—the universe rammed it home just half an hour ago when her beautiful, exhausted eyes had fluttered open and locked on his for seconds and then fluttered shut again. In that unguarded moment, she’d completely failed to disguise a blazing kind of intensity saturating the chocolate pools.
