by Cynthia Sax
“You mentioned you had a plan to stop the gossip.” I tilt my head back and gaze up at Nicolas, his male-model good looks making my mind melt.
He drags his fingertips along my neck, leaving a trail of awareness across my skin, my body reacting as my heart objects. “I always have a plan.”
Chapter Two
NICOLAS BRUSHES HIS unharmed cheek against mine, his skin smooth, too smooth. I’ve gained an appreciation for stubble, for the rough rasp of short hair, the manliness of an unshaven face.
“The plan is to go public,” he states. “We’ll let everyone know we’re a couple.”
I wait for him to elaborate. Seconds, minutes pass and Nicolas says nothing more, nuzzling into the curve where my neck meets my shoulder. Does my billionaire think that merely announcing we’re dating will stop the tongues from wagging? “That won’t fix anything.”
“Being with me isn’t enough?” Nicolas’s lips quirk upward, the cut marring his beautiful face widening.
“You’re an arrogant asshole.” I stare at his mouth, the streak of red obscene. “You know it isn’t enough.”
He slides his hands down my back, pressing me to him, his strength subtle yet undeniable. “You’ll move in here.”
Shock straightens my spine. “Nicolas.” I’m not ready for this step. We haven’t progressed beyond kissing and innocent touching. I twist in his arms, trying to put space between us.
If this was Hawke, he’d grip my swiveling hips with his big hands and hold me against his hard body, not allowing me to escape him, to escape fate.
Nicolas releases me.
“There are multiple bedrooms,” he explains as I step backward, retreating. “I won’t rush you. I know you’re a good girl.”
I’m a good girl who masturbates in front of my window and sucks a tattooed biker off in my living room. My uneasiness compounds. If Nicolas knew how far I’ve gone with Hawke, he wouldn’t try to repair my reputation.
“What does living together accomplish?” I play with the kitchen tap, wishing there was a sponge or a paper towel or something I could use to clean the gleaming counter. Cleaning always makes me feel better.
Nicolas plucks at his shirt’s cuffs. He’s nervous about this conversation. This matters to him. I matter to him, this knowledge reassuring me.
“It shows the world that I’m serious about you.” My billionaire meets my gaze, his expression solemn. “I am serious about you, Bee. I trust you. I feel comfortable around you.” He fiddles with his cuff links. “I can’t ask for more in a wife.”
He feels comfortable around me. A bleakness fills my heart. I shouldn’t say anything. Nicolas is offering me everything I’ve ever wanted—marriage, a forever commitment, wealth, a safe, secure home—and opening my mouth might mess all of that up. I should stay silent, swallow my misgivings.
Shit. I have to say something.
“You can ask for more,” I blurt. “You deserve love, passion, a woman who fries your brain with one touch of her fingers, a partner you can’t live without.”
Nicolas looks at me as though I’ve lost my mind.
Have I? A month ago, I might have been happy with the relationship we have. Now, I want more. I want to be his priority, his everything.
“When I’m with you, I’m happy,” Nicolas shares. “I haven’t been happy in . . . ” He tilts his head, lines etching between his eyebrows, as he thinks. “I can’t remember the last time I was truly happy. The passion, all of the rest of it, will come.”
He sounds certain. I should let it go, but I can’t.
“If you knew what people are saying about me, you wouldn’t want me for a wife.” The stories Cyndi related disgust me. What will Nicolas think about them?
“What do you expect people to say?” His gorgeous face grows hard. “You live with a woman who has slept with half of Chicago and then you had lunch with an escort.”
My mouth opens, closes, opens again, this blunt truth from my sophisticated billionaire shocking me. I say nothing because there’s no refuting his words. Cyndi is proud of her slut status, and Lona is a high-class hooker.
“But we’ll change that.” Nicolas waves his hands in the air, dismissing my concerns. “You’ll attend dinners, parties, other events with me, no longer associate with Lona LaMarre or the Wynters girl, and—”
“Cyndi is my best friend.” I interrupt his not-so-grand plan. Lona is my friend also, but I decide to fight one battle at a time. “She lives in the same building. I’ll continue to associate with her.”
“Every time you’re seen with her, people will talk.”
If I wear a low-cut top, chat with a man, bend over in a skirt, do anything remotely risqué, people will talk. The rumors will never cease to circulate.
“I won’t turn my back on my best friend.” I lift my chin. “I’m loyal, remember?” I poke him in the chest with my finger. “Your investigator told you that.” His investigator was Hawke. “I can’t believe you asked me to abandon her.” I poke Nicolas again, disappointed in him. Hawke would never ask me to turn my back on Cyndi.
Nicolas catches my finger, stopping my assault. “I’m not asking you to do anything for me that I haven’t already done for you.”
I pull my hands away from him and fold my arms under my breasts. “Which friend have you given up for me?” I call him on his bullshit.
Nicolas touches the bruise on his chin, the bruise Hawke gave him.
I inhale sharply, sucking air into my lungs. “No.” I shake my head. He can’t be implying what I think he is. “You and Hawke aren’t friends.” Because if they are . . . Oh my God. My world spins around me. “Tell me I didn’t cause trouble between you.”
“Bee.” Nicolas reaches for me.
“No touching.” I raise my hands, backing away from him, needing the distance to think rationally. “Not until you clarify what you said. Did I mess up your friendship?”
My stubborn billionaire presses his lips together, the cut Hawke caused glistening red, the truth reflecting in his eyes. I slump against the fridge, my legs shaking. The two men were friends and now they’re not, because of me.
“What happened?” I ask for the gory details, needing to punish myself.
“You happened.” Nicolas straightens his shirt’s cuffs. “Hawke wanted to meet you, claimed you could be trusted with a man’s secrets.” He plays with his cuff links. “I wasn’t convinced.”
He’s cautious, as I am. “So you tested me with the phone.”
“The plan was you’d find my phone and allow Hawke to retrieve it.” My billionaire doesn’t deny testing me. “That was to be the extent of my involvement. I wasn’t to speak with you. I wasn’t to meet with you.”
“Then why leave your phone on the bench?” I ask. “Why not leave his?”
Nicolas gazes at me, his dark eyes reflecting his irritation, the CEO not accustomed to being questioned.
“Because you’ve built a real estate empire,” I guess. “You have the contacts people would pay to access.”
He inclines his head, the lights glimmering on his black hair. “And Hawke thought you’d be more likely to trust him if you knew we are . . . were friends.”
They’re no longer friends because of me. “But I didn’t allow him to retrieve it. I insisted on giving you the phone.” I had a plan also, my mind set on meeting the billionaire. “We met.”
“And I knew I couldn’t allow him to have you.” Nicolas grazes his fingertips over my cheek, and I force myself to remain still, to not pull away.
“When you see something, someone you want, you’ll do anything, even destroy long-lasting friendships, to stake your claim,” I recite. He told me that when we first met. I hadn’t realized what those words meant, how his stance would hurt people.
Hawke was one of the people he hurt. I rub my hands over my face, aching for my former marine. Nicolas had abandoned him as my dad, my high school friends, others abandoned me.
“I wanted you, Bee.”
“So y
ou destroyed your friendship with Hawke.” I stare at Nicolas, unable to comprehend how anyone could casually toss another person aside. “You betrayed him.”
He nods.
“And now you’re asking me to betray Cyndi.” Acid crawls up the back of my throat, and I embrace the burn, deserving the hurt. I broke up a friendship, caused trouble between the two men I care for. “Because you know I want you.”
Do I want Nicolas? Do I know him? Part of his attraction was his loyalty, his steadfastness, and that was a lie.
Nicolas dips his head once more.
“I won’t ever walk away from a friend,” I say softly. “That’s not who I am. I don’t care what people say about me.” This is a lie. I care about the gossip, but I care about Cyndi more. “I’ll continue to stand by Cyndi’s side. Can you accept that?”
Nicolas says nothing, his silence telling me everything I need to know. He will never tolerate my friendship with his nemesis’s daughter, and I won’t ever betray Cyndi.
We can’t move past this. We’re stuck.
I don’t know whether to be sad or relieved. Nicolas hurt Hawke, one of the most honorable men I’ve ever met, because he wanted me, a woman he doesn’t understand. He isn’t the person I thought he was.
But I’m also not the woman he thinks I am, and I’m tired, so fucking tired, of pretending, of acting how a good girl should act. That’s not me. It might never be me.
I meet my billionaire’s gaze. “If I moved into your penthouse now, it would be a mistake for both of us. You’ll regret it, Nicolas, and I don’t ever want to be one of your regrets.”
His perfect jaw juts. “You don’t have a choice about moving in. It’s the only solution.”
“There are other solutions and there’s always a choice.” I quote Hawke, my lips lifting into a tight smile. “You had doubts about us yesterday.” I pat Nicolas’s suit-clad chest, taking this opportunity to touch him, knowing it might be the last time. “I trust your gut, even if you don’t.”
He catches my wrists, holding me to him. “Don’t give up on us, Bee.” Nicolas presses his fingertips against my pulse and my heartbeat quickens. “I need you.”
I gaze up at his handsome face. He’s so beautiful, the lights illuminating his black hair, his golden tan, his classic features, and he needs me, cares for me, his feelings genuine and real. “I’m your friend, Nicolas, and, as I said earlier, I never turn my back on my friends.”
His grip on my wrists eases. “You can’t be loyal to the Wynters girl and to me. Her father won’t tolerate that, and neither will I.”
I twist my lips. “Her dad could be an issue.”
“Harry Wynters is more than an issue. He’s a self-righteous ass.” Nicolas’s tone is harsh. “He won’t be kind to you, Bee. The two of them could turn on you, and I won’t be there to protect you.”
“I don’t need protection from Cyndi or her dad.” I hope.
“I know what he’s done to me.” Nicolas grows even more grim. “And I heard his comments about Lona LaMarre. He spewed for months, trying to force me to evict her from the building.”
“Why didn’t you?” I ask, puzzled by his acceptance of the high-class escort.
“I couldn’t evict her and not evict her clients,” my billionaire replies. “That wouldn’t be right.”
I blink, not expecting Nicolas to treat Lona and her wealthy clients equally.
“I’m also the last person who should judge anyone on his or her morality,” he adds.
I tilt my head, studying him. Maybe Nicolas would accept my mom, the wild woman of Happydale. “Lona’s the equivalent of an employee,” I test.
“She’s not my employee,” he states as though this makes a difference. “Harry Wynters will go on a rampage.” Nicolas returns the conversation to his enemy. “You’re too nice for a confrontation with him. The things he says will destroy you.”
“There’s nothing he can say that I haven’t already heard.” I straighten to my full average height. “I’m tougher than I look.”
“I doubt that,” Nicolas says dryly. “He could force his daughter to evict you.”
“He could,” I agree. Cyndi’s dad accepted my presence because he thought I was a good influence on his daughter. He won’t think that anymore.
“When she does that, you’ll move in with me.” Nicolas’s expression brightens.
“Cyndi isn’t the sole reason we’re not living together,” I remind him. “And I’ll remain friends with her. We merely won’t be roommates.”
“No, you won’t remain friends,” he declares. “She won’t be able to face you. She’ll feel too guilty about evicting you.”
The damn man is right. I scowl at him.
“I’ll buy more ice cream.” Nicolas appears cheerful, as though Cyndi’s impending abandonment rights everything that is wrong in our relationship.
I jam my fists on my hips. “I don’t like you at the moment.”
His smile fades. “I don’t like me at any moment,” my tormented billionaire admits, heart-tugging despair reflecting in his eyes. “You’re smart to have some doubts about our relationship. I’m not a good man.”
I glare at Nicolas, wanting to hate him, to be angry at him, but he appears so lost, so lonely, his shoulders slightly rounded and his beautiful face downcast.
And he didn’t do anything other than relay the facts. Mr. Wynters will force Cyndi to evict me, and she will feel too guilty to face me afterward. A truly bad man wouldn’t have warned me, wouldn’t have tried to protect me.
Shit. My lips twist. I have to forgive him.
“You’re a complete asshole,” I finally admit, folding my fingers around his. “But I knew that when I met you. You haven’t changed and I’m still here, pissed off at you, yet by your side.”
“I need you by my side.” Nicolas gazes down at me, his expression flatteringly earnest. I need him too . . . as a friend, maybe more. “No one else tells me the truth.”
His confession saddens me. “Hawke would tell you the truth.”
“Yes, he would.” Nicolas sighs. “My offer remains open.” He holds my hand as we walk toward the elevators, our fingers linked together, his palm smooth, warm, firm. “If you need a place to stay, either as a friend or as more, one of my bedrooms will always be yours.”
He assumes I’ll eventually say yes because this is what any rational woman would do. Nicolas is intelligent, successful, charming, has a sweet nature he fiercely tries to hide. He’s the perfect man, and I’d be an idiot to reject his offer.
Unfortunately, I’m an idiot. We pass through gorgeously decorated rooms filled with priceless antiques, and I pay no attention to these luxurious surroundings, my mind on my former marine. “Your actions must have hurt Hawke.” This pains me.
“He didn’t tell you what I did?” Nicolas’s voice is filled with a quiet shame.
“I sensed he was upset, but I didn’t know why.” I glance at the billionaire by my side. “Hawke has never said anything negative about you,” I assure him, wishing to save whatever remains of their friendship.
“He’s a good man.”
He is a good man. Hawke knew I wouldn’t approve of Nicolas’s actions yet he stayed silent, my military man’s strong sense of honor preventing him from saying anything, from winning at any cost. I lift my chin, proud of his actions, proud of him.
“I miss talking with him,” Nicolas admits.
“Then fix your friendship.” I squeeze his fingers. “Should I send you some articles on how to do that?” I try to lighten the oppressive mood.
“I’d like that.” Nicolas treats me to one of his rare laughs. The emperor’s bust stares at us, his marble eyes flat, his expression severe.
“And I like you, Bee.” My billionaire turns to face me, taking both of my hands in his. “You genuinely want what’s best for me, even if that isn’t in your best interest. I don’t know anyone else who puts my happiness first.”
“Even yourself?” I ask.
L
ines carve between his black eyebrows. “I’m not a good man.”
My heart twists. My tormented billionaire doesn’t believe he’s worthy of joy. “Even assholes deserve happiness.” I sweep my thumbs along his palms, seeking to comfort him. “Should I send you another article? Or do you need daily reminders sent to your phone?”
His eyes widen. “My phone.” Nicolas pats his jacket pockets. “I left it on the counter.” He takes a step in that direction, stops, and looks toward me.
His indecision warms my soul. Nicolas cares for me. He might not love me, but he does have feelings for me.
“Go, retrieve your phone,” I urge, my executive hopelessly addicted to his devices. “I’m leaving.” I press the button for the elevator. The doors open and I enter the small space, turning to face the exit. “Don’t work too hard today.”
I’m speaking to an empty room. My billionaire is already gone.
Chapter Three
I PRESS THE button for the ground floor. Returning to the condo isn’t an option. If Cyndi is still home, she’ll ask me what Nicolas and I discussed. I can’t tell her that I had to choose between my friendship with her and my relationship with him. That would hurt her.
Being forced to evict me will hurt Cyndi also. The elevator descends slowly, giving me too much time to think. Did I make a mistake, turning down Nicolas’s offer?
I fold my fingers around the dog tags Hawke gave me, the pieces of metal once worn by his best friend, a man my former marine would have killed for, died for.
Is there anyone Nicolas would die for? He couldn’t tolerate my friendship with Cyndi. I doubt he’d trade his life for mine.
Would Hawke trade his life for mine?
The red digital numbers on the elevator’s display count down. Hawke knows me better than Cyndi, my mom, or anyone else on the planet. He likes my loyalty, my character, even my perverted behavior. He’s seen me scuffed and red-eyed, with crazy hair. He has worked beside my mom at the diner and witnessed me at my worst.
Yet, our relationship or friendship or whatever it is has survived, thrived, grown stronger. Unfortunately, Hawke can’t give me the financial security I need, can’t assist me with paying my mom’s bills.
