by A. C. Arthur
“I’m going to find Mr. Right and have that wedding in the park with all the bling I can manage.” Regan laughed. “But first we have to get you down the aisle. Right?”
That was the million-dollar question today. First, Mr. Bruce had asked her if she was sure about marrying Mark, and now Regan was asking that same question. Lyra wouldn’t count Dion’s questioning of the union, she’d heard all his arguments in the weeks before she returned and again this morning when she’d left his condo. She hadn’t talked to him all day, but that hadn’t stopped her from thinking about him.
“I want to get married. I want to start a family and do all the things my mother never did for me,” she confessed to Regan.
“And you want to do that with Mark?” When Lyra didn’t answer right away, Regan kept right on talking. “I’m just asking because he’s definitely fine and he’s making a boatload of money, but there seems to be something missing between the two of you. I remember when he took you to the prom and you couldn’t wait to go home. He looked like he couldn’t wait to get you to the nearest hotel, but I knew you’d never go all the way with him on prom night. Then you left town with him and I thought maybe you were okay with him. But I’ve got to tell you, Lyra. I don’t really get that vibe from you two. I don’t really feel like you’re in love with him.”
And this was why she loved Regan, because there was nothing this woman would not say that she didn’t honestly mean. Their friendship was such that they could both be truthful, and Lyra gave a sigh of relief. For months she’d harbored her doubts, letting them float around in her own mind but not daring to voice them. Since being home with the Donovans she’d felt an overwhelming need to purge herself completely.
“I’m not in love with him,” Lyra finally admitted. “He’s stable and he’s good and on the one hand I don’t think I should be greedy and ask for more.”
“Tell me you’re joking,” Regan said with a sigh of her own. “Are you kidding me? You deserve to be greedy. You were dealt a crappy hand at life, Lyra. You should be asking for more. Hell, you should be demanding more after all you’ve been through. Don’t settle for this guy just because you feel obligated to him. If he’s not the one, toss him aside and wait until you find the one.”
Lyra laughed. “That’s so easy for you to say. Look at all the options you have. I’m not you, Regan. Sure, I grew up with all of you, but I’m not like you.”
“No, you’re not. Donovans don’t give up, they fight for what they want until they get it. You, on the other hand, haven’t learned a thing since living with us. Stand up and take what you want, Lyra. You deserve at least that much.”
Their food had come after that and the conversation had thankfully switched to something else. But Regan’s words still echoed in her mind. Lyra wasn’t in love with Mark, she never had been. All her life she’d only loved one man.
And later that evening, when she looked up from the lounge she’d been sitting in at the pool she saw him walking toward her. Everything inside her leaped for joy, everything except the brain that told her she was treading in unmarked territory. But for the first time in her life, Lyra didn’t mind. She wanted the new and unchartered, wanted to feel the rush of an impulsive act, especially one she’d dreamed of for years.
“I called you today,” he said the moment he was close enough for her to hear him.
“I know,” Lyra replied, lifting herself up off the chair to stand so she could face him.
“We need to talk.”
He looked serious in his khaki pants and polo shirt. He looked delicious with the dimming lights from around the pool basking them in a golden haze.
“I don’t want to talk,” she stated boldly.
“Lyra—” he began, but she cut him off by coming up on tiptoe, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling his face closer to hers.
“I said, I don’t want to talk.”
When her lips touched his, fire instantly ignited throughout her body. Lyra pressed closer to him, took the kiss deeper and was rewarded by his arms wrapping around her lifting her until her feet no longer touched the floor.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, sighed when his hands cupped her bottom, kneaded and rubbed while their tongues continued to duel.
He was moving. Lyra could feel them both moving but didn’t open her eyes to see where. She heard what sounded like a door opening then closing but kept her lips on his. When her back hit a wall, she gasped and opened her eyes. He’d walked them into the pool house and kicked the door closed behind them. Now his fingers hastily pulled at the bikini top she wore. When his head lowered and his mouth covered one breast she cursed and bucked against him.
“Dion!” His name escaped her lips in a ragged cry.
Again, he wasn’t gentle. He didn’t whisper any flowery words or romantic preludes, he simply took. And she gave.
Lyra was completely bare at the top and still in his arms. Her own frantic hands tore at his shirt until he leaned back and pulled it over his head. She anxiously leaned forward, kissing his broad shoulders and down to his taut pectorals. His hands were in her hair pulling until her scalp stung as he groaned his pleasure.
In seconds she heard and felt him fiddling with his belt buckle. Her hands raced downward to help him. His pants and underwear slid down and she held his heated length in her hands.
“Dammit! I love when you touch me,” he groaned in her ear.
Wrapping her fingers around him and stroking him from the base to the tip Lyra replied, “I love touching you.”
With a yank her bikini bottom fell to the floor, her back pressed even harder against the wall. She guided his length to her waiting entrance and gripped his shoulders as he pressed deep inside.
There was nothing but this moment, this feeling, this man. Nothing and everything as he began to move inside her and she rode him with all the pent up desire she’d had for him.
He whispered her name. She whispered his. He took her with a fierce hunger that rivaled even the passion they’d experienced last night. It was as if he owned this part of her, had waited until this very moment to claim what she’d held aside just for him. Lyra wanted to scream her pleasure. She wanted to whimper with the desire she’d always had for this Donovan man. Instead, she matched his fervor with a heat of her own, undulating her hips until they were both breathing heavily, climbing and climbing for the highest release.
“You belong to me.” His voice echoed in her ear seconds before his teeth scraped over her lobe. “Say it! Tell me you belong to me!”
Lyra felt like she finally belonged to herself, like this was the defining moment in her life when she had let go and done exactly what she wanted to do, damn the consequences. But there was also a measure of truth to his words. She did belong to Dion, she always had.
“Yes!” was her eventual reply. “I belong to you!”
She held on to him as he pounded deeper and deeper inside her. Her nails dug into his skin as his fingers gripped her bare bottom fiercely.
Lyra felt unstoppable and uncontrollable as Dion pressed her against the wall, taking her like his life depended on it, like their lives depended on it.
When her thighs quivered with her release and she kissed down his neck, Dion moaned loudly, tensing inside her before relaxing. He still held her close as they both struggled to take normal breaths.
“I can’t go back to the way we were, Lyra,” he said into her ear. “I want more from you than friendship.”
She didn’t speak, only nodded her agreement.
“We can make this work. Nobody knows me the way you do, and vice versa. I think we’ve always known it would come to this.”
The more he talked, the more her heart swelled with love for this man. He’d always been there for her, in every way she’d needed him, at the time she’d needed him. He was her best friend, her conf
idant, her staunchest supporter. Despite all the rumors about his philandering ways, Lyra always knew there was a part of Dion that belonged only to her. The true and real part of the man every woman in the world wanted to be with but only she knew.
“I don’t want to hurt your parents,” she admitted finally.
“By telling them you want to be with their son.” He chuckled. “I doubt that would hurt them. You know my mom’s been trying to marry me off since I graduated from college. I think she’ll approve of my choice.”
“We’ll tell them together?” she asked.
“From this point on we’ll do everything together,” he vowed, kissing her lips again.
Lyra let herself be captured by that kiss, she let it hold her and soothe all her worries. She was finally getting what she wanted, and she should feel a lot better about it than she actually did. But something deep inside still whispered that happily ever after just wasn’t for her.
* * *
“I hope he doesn’t hurt her,” Janean said, standing at the kitchen window watching as Dion and Lyra—wearing only a towel wrapped around her—walked across the lawn toward the back door of the house.
“He’s a Donovan, dear. It’s not in his genes to hurt a woman,” Bruce replied.
“But she’s not just any woman.”
“No,” Bruce agreed. “She’s not.”
Chapter 16
BETRAYED BY A DONOVAN
“Internet mogul Mark Stanford gives a candid interview about his heartbreak and disappointment in Miami’s top family.”
Savian read the next few sentences in the article before tossing the paper angrily across the conference room table. His father had called a seven o’clock meeting on Tuesday morning. The paper had been released at six Monday night.
A very somber Parker, a contemplative Sean and an all-out angry Dion sat on one side of the long cherrywood table. On the other side was Savian and Regan. At both heads of the table were Reginald and Bruce. Nobody was smiling.
“Did you sleep with her?” Regan asked, staring at Dion.
Savian scoffed. “What kind of question is that? Of course he didn’t. Lyra’s family. This is a pack of lies and I say we sue the shirt off this rag of a newspaper to show them not to mess with the Donovans.”
“A lawsuit is not the type of publicity the magazine needs right now,” Sean said, slowly sitting up in his chair and resting his elbows on the table.
“I can’t believe Stanford would give this interview,” Parker spoke up. “But a lot of what he’s saying about the family is dead on. He could only have gotten that information from Lyra. That means there’s no doubt he’s doing the talking.”
“But why?” Reginald asked. “What does he have to gain from putting this information out there? The wedding’s still on, right?”
All eyes rested on Dion. “You have to ask Lyra about her wedding plans,” he said simply. Then when he saw a few raised brows he cleared his throat and figured he’d better give a little more information, even though he’d promised Lyra they’d tell everyone together.
“Stanford’s not entirely wrong. There’s something going on between Lyra and me.”
“What the hell?” Savian yelled.
Reginald shook his head and Sean squeezed the bridge of his nose. Bruce simply looked at his son.
“Something like what?” Regan demanded. “Don’t mess with her, Dion. She’s not like those other tramps you have in and out of your life.”
“She’s right, Dion.” Reginald backed his daughter’s statement up with a grim nod. “She’s like family, for goodness’ sake. You couldn’t find anyone else to sleep with?”
“It’s not like that!” Dion yelled, supremely pissed off that his family seemed to have such a low opinion of him. “There’s been something—and by something I mean feelings—between us for a while now. We’ve just had the chance to act on them since she came back. And I don’t have to sit here and explain my personal life at a business meeting.”
“Son,” Bruce said quietly. “This is family, and the Donovan family always comes first, before any type of business. I think what we’re all trying to figure out is if this ‘something’ is serious? Does Lyra share your feelings?”
Dion stood. “I’m not going to sit here and discuss what’s personal between Lyra and me.”
“And it doesn’t really matter,” Sean interjected. “The fact is Stanford leaked this story to the press for a reason. It’s obvious he’s trying to discredit us, but what does he have to gain from it? We’re not poaching on his business and I’d think any other man would be too embarrassed to admit his fiancée is stepping out on him. We need to figure out why he did this.”
Dion didn’t miss a beat. From the moment he saw the article he’d had her name in the back of his mind, right along with the photo of Lyra she’d slipped him. “Katrina Saldana,” he said finally.
“Who?” Savian asked.
“The professional gold digger who stays in the tabloids for one reason or another,” Regan volunteered. “She was Dion’s flavor of the month a while back.”
Dion looked at Regan shaking his head. “Nobody in this room is answering for their personal life. But I’ll go along, since it seems my business has seeped into the company. Yes, I dated Katrina Saldana. It wasn’t one of my smarter decisions, but I ended it months ago. She’s not real happy with that decision.”
Regan continued, “I’ll bet that’s an understatement. Saldana is notorious for hooking up with rich and famous men. Her eye always seems to be on the money prize.”
“But she’s a looker, that’s for sure,” Parker added.
“So you think this woman may be in cahoots with Stanford?” Bruce asked.
Dion nodded. “She knows I’m seeing Lyra. I wouldn’t put anything past her.”
“Maybe she thought if Stanford went public you’d be so disgraced you’d leave Lyra alone,” Sean replied.
“Doesn’t mean he’d look her way again,” Savian said.
“The bottom line is damage control. Should there be any?” Reginald asked.
Bruce surprised everyone with his answer. “No,” he said simply. “Dion’s personal life is his own concern. This is a tabloid rag that has minor circulation but doesn’t hold much credence with anyone who has an ounce of sense. As a corporation I say we ignore it for the vicious rumors that it usually is. And Dion will handle the rest.”
Slipping his hands into his pockets, Dion nodded. “I certainly will.”
* * *
“Are you kidding me?” Lyra said the moment she stormed into Mark’s office, dropping the newspaper onto his desk and standing with her hands on both hips. “Since when do we air our personal issues in the press?”
Mark didn’t even look down at the paper. “Since you started sleeping with the man you’ve always called a ‘brother.’”
“This is low, Mark. I planned to talk to you about Dion.”
“When? Before or after the wedding?”
Lyra couldn’t argue with his logic there. For all intents and purposes she had cheated on her fiancé, no matter that her heart had never been in this relationship in the first place.
“I was going to talk to you last night, but you canceled our date. Now, it appears you were having me followed all along. I guess I was actually the last to know we had trust issues in this relationship.”
“Don’t come in here talking to me about trust. I’ve never trusted the Donovans and I’ve always been honest with you about that. Since you seem to be so in love with that family, it stands to reason I’d want my own assurances.”
“Assurances of what? That I care about the family that raised me, that gave me everything I ever dreamed of? Your jealousy of them has always been unfounded. And what did you find out by following me? Nothing. You saw me le
aving my best friend’s house and that means I’m sleeping with him?”
“I saw you taking care of that pitiful junkie of a mother of yours and then running to that playboy who thinks his bank account can buy him any and everything he wants! I saw the woman that was supposed to be committed to me still chasing a past better left alone. That’s what I saw, Lyra!”
“First of all, you don’t get to talk about my mother to me. Ever!” she said vehemently. “And furthermore, if I turned to my friends instead of you, whose fault is that? You’ve never shown an ounce of compassion where my mother is concerned, nor have you lifted one of your manicured fingers to help her or anybody else for that matter. You’re a selfish bastard, Mark Stanford!”
He tossed his head back and laughed. “And you’re a naive dreamer. Do you think Donovan is going to marry you, Lyra? You’re nothing to him. No, I’ll correct that. You’re like the help, the very attractive help, and he can’t help but indulge himself. But he won’t stay committed to you any more than he has to any other woman. You have no idea what he’s been doing these past ten years or what he’ll continue to do.”
“And you never had a clue of who or what I am,” she said sadly. It was all clear to her now, the reason she could never really let herself fall completely for Mark Stanford. He was the perfect package, on the outside. But Lyra had always suspected there was something else. Her guilt over thinking of Dion while she was with Mark probably masked it, but now she saw it and him for what they really were.
“If he thinks I’m the attractive help, what do you think I was? Apparently my drug-addicted mother is beneath your standards, so what was I? A pity project? A jab at the Donovans you say I love so much? It’s obvious you never really loved me, so what was the purpose in being with me, Mark?”
For a minute he looked shocked at her words, then he covered it smoothly with that smile she’d seen him give his colleagues. He sat back in his chair and folded his hands together as if contemplating what he would say to her next.
