Her eyes rose to his. “Like a date?”
She looked hopeful, and he resented the way it made him feel. Guilt was a tool people used as leverage to control each other. He wasn’t looking for another situation where another person’s vulnerability essentially trapped him.
Then stay the fuck away from her.
It wasn’t that simple. A person doesn’t decide to breathe. It’s not something they think about either, until they’re somehow deprived of being able to. Then it’s all that matters. Lance wasn’t ready for what Willa represented, but the idea of losing her was even worse.
“Call it whatever you want. We’ll take the ferry to Martha’s Vineyard. I’ll show you around.” Get the hell away from my family.
There was a kindness in her expression, an easy forgiveness, that had him almost retracting his invitation. “I’d like that.”
“Come on, I’ll walk you back.”
The door of Lance’s office opened and his temp secretary stuck her head in. “Mr. Barrington? I hate to disturb you, but I tried to buzz you . . .”
Lance shook off the past. “I didn’t hear it. What is it?”
“Miss Chambers is on her way up.”
Letting out a slow breath, Lance nodded. “Send her in as soon as she arrives.”
If nothing else came from their meeting that morning, Lance was determined to find out why Willa had sent Lexi in her place for their date.
Why not just say she didn’t want to see him?
Why the lies?
And if she cared so little about him that she could play him like that, why was she still upset with him?
He’d told himself the answers to those questions weren’t as important as keeping the peace in his family. She’d told him to leave her alone and he had.
He might have been able to continue to, but then she’d lied to him again. This time she’d pretended to be Lexi. And the way she’d danced for him. He’d fought for years to not think about how it had been with her, but watching her shake her ass defiantly at him had brought it all back again.
She wouldn’t leave his office until he at least knew what the hell had happened ten years ago.
Chapter Seven
Willa barely heard what Lance’s secretary was saying, but she followed her to his office door anyway. Willa’s heart was thudding loudly in her chest. She tried to tell herself she was only there to pick up the journal.
She’d been very careful to never be alone with Lance—ever. She kept her distance and did her best to forget. It was the only way she’d been able to move on. Or try to.
He opened the door to his office, and Willa’s pace faltered. If their brief history bothered him at all, it had never shown on his face. Ever since she’d told him she never wanted to talk to him again, his expression had been carefully neutral.
Worse than hating her, he’d shown indifference.
He didn’t, however, look indifferent right then. There was a hunger burning in his eyes that tugged at her old feelings for him. She didn’t want to feel anything around him, but the chemistry they’d always shared was impossible to deny.
Which means nothing.
Animals mate indiscriminately.
People have evolved past letting their genitalia make decisions for them.
Her inner self-lecture did nothing to lessen how her body hummed with anticipation as she walked toward him. He held out his hand to shake hers and she froze. She didn’t want to touch him, didn’t want their connection to deepen. She knew exactly how good it would feel.
That kind of good had almost destroyed her once. Never again.
Still, to prove to herself that she was now in control of her attraction to him, she placed her hand in his and met his eyes. “I don’t want to take up your time. If you have the journal, I’ll take it and go.”
His hold on her lingered. “Tell me, what do you think of the building?”
Honestly, Willa hadn’t noticed much about it. Her thoughts had revolved around their meeting. She based her answer on a general impression of it. “It serves its purpose, I suppose, but—”
“But? Don’t hold back on my account.” His hand tightened on hers.
She pried her hand out of his. “It lacks warmth.”
He frowned and motioned for her to follow him inside his office. She did, and he closed the door behind her. He led the way to a glass table with a pair of stark white chairs beside it. “It’s not a home, it’s a place of business.” She took one of the seats, and he sat across from her. “It has been lauded in several architectural magazines as a glimpse into the future.”
“How depressing,” Willa said without thinking, then bit her lip. She didn’t come to fight with him. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
He held her gaze intently. “What would you change about it?”
Willa lifted and dropped a shoulder. His questions were about more than the building. She knew she shouldn’t respond, but it was tempting to tell him what she thought in terms of his building. “The exterior is striking, but there isn’t anything unique about the interior. No grand foyer at its heart. Nothing that makes a person feel welcome when they enter. Nothing that would make them want to return.”
“I optimized the space available. Adding a foyer would have wasted most of the ground floor.”
“It’s only my opinion. You seem happy with your design. What I think doesn’t matter.”
Lance leaned forward. “That’s where you’re wrong. It does. It always has.”
Willa shook her head. She rejected how good his words made her feel. Even if he felt that way, it was too little too late. She wasn’t a good enough liar, even to herself, to be with him and pretend he hadn’t almost destroyed her. She didn’t want to go back to feeling the way she had after being with him. It had been a low point in her life. Others had disappointed her in the past, but that year she’d added her own name to those who had let her down. Forcing levity into her tone, she asked, “So, where is this infamous journal?”
He rested his elbows on his knees and held her eyes. “Do you realize this is the first time we’ve been alone since Nantucket? Ten years.”
Willa swallowed hard. The child in her wanted to run from the room. The woman in her wanted to prove to him he didn’t matter enough for her to run. “Has it been that long? God, we’re getting old fast.”
“You still owe me an explanation.”
The attraction she felt for him fell to the wayside and fury surged through her. She’d thought she could do it. She’d thought enough time had passed, but it hadn’t. When the Band-Aid of denial was ripped off, the wound was still fresh. She shot to her feet. “I owe you nothing.” She turned to leave but he was in front of her, blocking her exit. “Get out of my way. It was a mistake to come here.”
He grabbed one of her arms and held it painfully. “The mistake was waiting this long to talk it out. I deserve to know what happened. Why are you still angry with me? You wanted to have sex that night as much as I did. I didn’t take advantage of you.”
The room spun, and Willa gripped the back of one of the chairs to steady herself. Memories of that night were still painful as they tore through her. “You’re hurting my arm,” she said, pulling at her arm.
He relaxed his hold, but didn’t release her. “Look at me, Willa.”
She did and his expression turned tormented. She couldn’t hide her anger from him. It was no longer worth trying to deny it was there. “I thought I could do this, Lance, but I can’t.”
“Why?” his asked in a tight voice. “Was it that bad?”
The absurdity of the question made her laugh sadly. “The sex? No, the sex was fine.” Some of her fury was replaced by deep sadness. There was no way back. Explaining why wouldn’t make either of them feel better. “The past is done and gone. Let it go.”
He shook his head. “I can’t. Why did you send Lexi on the date the next day? I know I didn’t handle myself well after we—”
“Fucked?” she asked
harshly, using the vulgar description to trivialize what they’d done.
Lance waved his free hand in the air. “I was twenty with more hormones than brains. But I liked you. I didn’t realize it was Lexi until it was too late.”
This time Willa did pull free. “Exactly, you didn’t realize it was Lexi. You even kissed her. Maybe more. Honestly, I don’t care.” Willa stepped away to leave, but Lance blocked her path again.
“Yes, I kissed her. She said she was you. She was in your fucking clothes. I was out of my mind confused already. The last thing I expected was for you to send someone else in your place. Why did you?”
Willa crossed her arms protectively across herself. Is that what he thought? That I sent her? She thought back to the hateful things he’d said to her the next time he’d seen her. He’d called her immature and had gone on and on about how wrong he’d been to think he could be with someone like her. At the time she’d thought he was referring to her declaration of love, but had the switch hurt him as well? She’d never considered that possibility. “I didn’t send her. Lexi told me you needed to do something for your father that day. I believed her.”
Lance brought a hand to his forehead. “Why would she do that?”
Blinking back tears, Willa shook with emotion. “Maybe she thought she was protecting me from you. She was suspicious that something had happened between us. Or maybe she wanted to prove she could have you too, if she wanted. I used to care about the real reason, but I don’t anymore. And asking the questions only makes it hurt more.”
“I didn’t know, Willa.”
“You should have.” I gave you everything. My body. My heart. How could you kiss every inch of me and not see that it was Lexi the next day?
His shoulders slumped a little. “I’m sorry. It was stupid. I can’t change what happened. But I am—I’m sorry. How long can you hate me for something I did ten years ago?”
His apology was a torment of its own. If only it had ended with Lexi pretending to be her and him not knowing the difference. She could have forgiven him for that.
I don’t hate you. This would be so much easier if I did.
She covered her face with one hand. “When she came back and told me you’d kissed her, a piece of me died. I know you think it was a ridiculous case of puppy love, but it was more than that. For me, at least. It was more. Then you were so angry.”
“Shit, Willa. I don’t know what else to say. I was young and self-absorbed. I felt like a fool when I thought you’d sent your sister in your place.” He took the hand away from her eyes gently. “I said stupid things.”
Still holding his hand, Willa felt his tension. His regret was sincere. It made what she knew she had to do even harder. Reliving that time, even briefly, had shaken her deeply. She’d once judged Sophie for hanging on to a loss so tightly her family paid for it. That kind of pain had been inconceivable to Willa until she’d experienced a loss of her own and discovered there were wounds that time doesn’t heal. Can’t heal.
And some held the terrifying power of ripping everything away from a person.
She’d come to a truce, if not peace, with herself. She’d survived. Her relationship with Lexi was still intact. Hell, they still shared an apartment together. She wouldn’t allow the past to continue to hurt her. Moving forward, Willa. It was better for all of them if Lance thought she was upset because of mistaken identity. There was no need for him to know . . . Intent on keeping the rest to herself, she said, “It’s okay, Lance. It was a long time ago. We were both young, and maybe that’s all we’re guilty of.” This time she gently removed her hand from his. “We’ll probably always be part of each other’s lives, but that’s all there can ever be for us.”
Lance cupped one side of her face with his hand. “Then what do we do with this?” His mouth came down and claimed hers.
Despite everything she’d said, every shred of sanity she’d clung to, she opened her lips for him. She met his plundering kiss with a frenzy that came from years of pent-up hunger. Hunger for him. She gripped his strong shoulders and gave herself over to a passion that burned hotter than any she’d experienced with other men.
He pulled her tight against him. His arousal pulsed against her stomach, and she writhed against it, shaken when she realized he was as much a slave to their attraction as she was. Her arms went up and around his neck. His hands cupped her ass, moving her even more intimately against his excitement.
There was nothing beyond how good his mouth felt on hers, how her skin tingled everywhere it touched his. She needed more. He must have been feeling the same way because he yanked her skirt upward and slid his hands beneath the silk panties she’d impulsively worn beneath it. She frantically began to pull the front of his shirt out of his pants.
The sound of a knock on the door of his office brought Willa back to her senses. She pulled away from him and yanked her skirt down over her ass just in time to turn and face a very embarrassed secretary who stuttered her way through an apology before closing the door.
In a deep, gravelly voice, Lance asked, “What do we do about that, Willa?”
Nothing. I can’t do this again. I can’t open myself to that kind of pain a second time. Willa backed toward the door, grabbing her purse on the way. “Nothing. If you care about me at all—do nothing.”
She was out the door and standing on shaking legs in the elevator before he had a chance to stop her. She brought a hand to her lips, lips still warm from his kiss. He raced after her and arrived just in time for the doors to close. He called out her name. She closed her eyes and turned away.
Lust was like a powerful narcotic. It felt good, but if a person gave in to it, it also had the ability to destroy them.
By the time the elevator opened on the first floor, Willa had composed herself. She took her shame, her embarrassment, and stuffed it deep down in the box in her gut where she kept all the feelings she didn’t want to face.
Many things were better denied.
What good would come from resenting her parents for dying? For hating her elderly aunt and uncle for not wanting to raise her and Lexi? Did it matter why Lexi had taken her place and gone on the date with Lance?
I don’t want to be angry all the time.
I don’t want to hate myself or anyone else.
Willa hailed a cab and climbed in. Lance stepped outside of his building. She told the driver to go and faced forward.
I’m sorry, Lance.
A flash of herself in her college’s clinic, discussing possibly terminating her pregnancy cut through her. Did I lose the baby because I considered an abortion?
Was it punishment for not being brave enough to tell anyone?
Not Lance?
Not Lexi?
Willa burst into tears in the back of the cab.
“Lady, are you okay?” the driver asked.
Willa shook her head. She was as far from being okay as she’d ever been.
And this is why I can’t look back. This is who I become when I do. She thought about Kenzi’s words. “None of us are who we were back then. Give yourself a chance to get to know who he is now.”
Sorry, Kenzi. I know he’s not the boy I slept with that summer. He’s a man now—a man with the power to rip away my façade of strength.
I don’t want to go back to hating myself.
I can’t risk that.
No matter how much I may want to.
Still catching his breath from his sprint down the stairs, Lance watched Willa leave in a cab and stood rooted to the sidewalk for a long time. He’d finally gotten his answers, but they came with even more questions. Willa hadn’t sent Lexi. Nothing about their first time together had been a game to her.
Which makes me even more of a dick than I thought.
Perfect.
How could anything that felt as good as being with Willa also hurt like an elephant had just kicked him in the balls. He wanted to grab the next cab, chase her down, and—and then what?
Her words came
back to him. “If you care about me at all—do nothing.” What the fuck did that mean?
“Lance Barrington?” a man asked as he approached, extending his hand for a shake as though they were old friends. Lance didn’t recognize the man standing next to him expectantly.
He turned his head from the man and back toward the street. Following Willa wasn’t an option, but nor was letting things end the way they had. He answered absently, “Yes.”
“I’m Emmitt Kalling.” The man dropped his hand once it became clear the greeting wasn’t going to get any warmer. “Dax Marshall said you were in need of my services.”
Lance shook his head. “Sorry, who are you and what are you doing here?”
“I’m a freelance security specialist.” He lowered his voice and folded his arms across his chest, his sleeves pulling up enough to expose his web of tattoos that ran up his arms. He was exactly the type of security Lance imagined Dax would need to employ. “We should talk about this in a less public place.”
“Dax called you?” Lance asked, not actually caring what he was saying. His attention had already slid away from the man to Willa. He ran their last conversation over in his head again and again. He shouldn’t have pushed for the truth right away. He should have given her time. His impatience was that of the twenty-year-old he’d been. Grow the fuck up.
This doesn’t have to be a repeat of the first time.
It was apparent Emmitt was quickly losing patience and looked as if he was barely holding back what he really wanted to say. “Yes, Dax Marshall. He said you were looking for added security. You had some sort of breach in the office. I can assure you if that’s the case I’ll track down the problem and it won’t happen again. But I do think we should take this meeting elsewhere.”
“No,” Lance answered flatly. He had always handled his own business. The last thing he needed was another brother thinking he needed guidance.
“No there was no breach?” Emmitt asked, still clearly fighting his annoyance.
“No, I don’t need your services. Dax was wrong,” Lance said shortly. In that moment he didn’t give a shit about the woman who had passed herself off as his secretary. All he cared about was that Willa was hurting, and she had cut him out of her life—again.
Trade It All (The Barrington Billionaires Book 3) Page 8
