Secret Affair with the Millionaire (The Rochesters)

by Coleen Kwan

  “With Kirk? He’s just grateful because I helped him out when he couldn’t get to his wife who’d gone into labor.”

  “I heard, but it’s no reason to get friendly. He’s still a Rochester. And that goes for the girl, too. I see you eyeing her. Don’t let your dick lead you astray. She’ll get you tied up in knots and bamboozle you.”

  For fuck’s sake— Dane bit off the retort with great difficulty. If they weren’t sitting in a table in public… But they were. And he was here because his father was finally coming to acknowledge that he had some talent. Although he hadn’t won complete acceptance from Martin. He had to keep that in mind.

  “That’s not going to happen, Dad.”

  “You’re sure about that? Not going to fall in lurve, are you?”

  Dane’s back stiffened. “Not a chance.”

  “Good.” His father leaned back. “I’m glad you’ve got your head screwed on properly.”

  Holly was fascinating, but falling in love? No. He wasn’t made that way. They might be dynamite in bed, but when—not if—he won the Halifax it would cast a shadow over them. He knew it would. And he’d break it off with Holly; she’d know the best was behind them, and anything less wasn’t worth it.

  He’d felt these amorphous sentiments all week, but now they were clarified in his mind. Regrets? Yeah, he had a few, the biggest being that he only had a week left with Holly. Not nearly enough time. He’d just have to make the most of what there was

  ***

  Holly stood in front of the mirror in the restroom and tweaked the straps of her metallic evening dress. The awards ceremony had been going on for two hours now, and the muscles between her shoulders were a tangle of knots. That’s what came from sharing a table with the Schofields while her father and Dane’s glared at each other or exchanged barbs. She couldn’t even have a neutral conversation with Dane; not when she was so on guard, afraid she’d let slip that they were more friendly than anyone imagined.

  What made it worse was that Dane looked so insanely sexy, his sharp black tuxedo and slicked back hair underscoring his dark masculinity. She’d had to force herself not to stare at him, an impossible task when he was sitting across the table from him.

  And then, during a lull following the main course when several minor awards were handed out, he’d sent her a text message: Meet me out the back.

  Out the back where? This convention center was huge, with lots of “out backs”. No, she wasn’t meeting him anywhere, not when a family member might stumble across them. The only reason she’d left the table was because she needed the restroom, that’s all.

  She’d been here ten minutes already. She was stalling, and she knew it. With a final flick at her hair, she picked up her purse and walked out into the corridor.

  Dane stood outside the door, hands in pockets.

  Her heart jumped. “What are you doing here?”

  “Waiting for you,” came the perfectly reasonable answer. He hooked his fingers around her elbow. “This way.”

  She should’ve pulled herself free and hurried back to the function room. She didn’t. Somehow the warmth of his fingers drained all free will from her.

  “I heard they’re serving chocolate mousse for dessert,” she said as he walked her away from the function room.

  “I’ll get you back in time for dessert.”

  He pushed open a door and led her onto a small balcony overlooking a courtyard. It was dark and quiet out here, with a faint scent of fried onions in the night air.

  His fingers slid down her elbow and curled around her hand. “Okay?” he asked gently.

  She realized he was asking if the setting met with her approval.

  “Yes.”

  In truth, she wouldn’t have cared if he’d led her to the basement parking lot. All she could focus on was how amazing he looked in that tuxedo. The tailored suit fitted his broad shoulders perfectly and gave him an elegance that intoxicated her because she knew how raw and dirty he could be out of those civilized clothes.

  “I didn’t tell you I’d be here because I didn’t expect to bump into you,” she said.

  “Same here.” He stroked his thumb over her palm as he gazed down at her.

  She could sense his heart beating fast just like hers, the threat of discovery lending an extra spice. She leaned against his chest, lifting her face to him.

  “Well?” she whispered.

  “Well, what?”

  “Why aren’t you putting me out of my misery?”

  His lips twitched. “Maybe I like just looking at you. Maybe I like teasing you.”

  “I can tease you, too.” She slowly rubbed her thigh against the front of his pants. A thrill went through her as she registered he was already hard.

  With a soft laugh he lowered his head and brushed his lips over her neck. As always the magic exploded, and she moaned her pleasure, running her hands up the solidness of his chest. She started to unbutton his shirt, but he leveled a hand over hers, stilling her movement.

  “We don’t have time to get all mussed up.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t even kiss you. We can’t go back with your lipstick all over my face.”

  “Well, what can we do, then?”

  “Lots of things. Like this.”

  He ran his hands over her shoulders, his touch light as he pulled down the straps of her dress. Then he leaned in to fit his face into the curve of her neck and brushed his lips over her collarbones. She shivered, his caresses turning her bones to slush. She arched her back, her breasts aching for his touch. He teased her by drifting his hands around her waist and ribs.

  She bit her lip. God help her, she’d have to beg. But just as she was about to, his palms closed over her breasts, and she couldn’t help moaning. He massaged her for only a short while before reaching down and lifting the edge of her dress, the pleated skirt giving him free access. He ran his palms up her thighs, sparking trails of fire. Her core was melting, feverish with need. When he cupped her between her legs, she let out a gasp and clutched at his arms.

  “Oh, god, oh, god,” she muttered.

  “Glad to be your deity,” he murmured against her hair as he pressed the heel of his hand against her damp panties.

  She ground herself against his hand, wanton and greedy, but it wasn’t nearly enough. She panted, her head buzzing.

  “You need more, don’t you, honey?”

  “Yeah,” she gasped. But could he? Here?

  His fingers pushed aside the scrap of lace thong and sank into her entrance. Dots sparked and danced in her vision.

  He growled against her throat. “You feel so good.”

  He stroked her deep, plumbing her wetness and spreading it over her folds. She clung to him, her legs turning to jelly as he continued to pleasure her, the tension building up inside her like a tornado. When he dragged his thumb across her clit, she tensed up and then went to pieces as her orgasm took hold and tore her apart.

  When she eventually floated back to reality, she found herself still clinging to him, limp and flushed.

  “Uh, did I say anything?” she asked, trying to stand up straight. “I can’t remember.”

  “Yeah, something about me being amazing.” He tweaked her underwear into position and straightened her dress. “There. You look better. We just have to wait for that post coital blush on your chest to wear off and then we’ll go back inside.”

  She gulped, tried to order her thoughts. “What about you? I mean, you didn’t get anything...”

  “We’ll just put it on your tab.”

  “My tab?”

  “Yeah. And then, later tonight, when we’re alone, I get to even the ledger.”

  “What will you want?”

  “You’ll just have to wait to find out.” He leaned in and nipped at her earlobe. “But it involves you kneeling in front of me.”

  She shivered. That didn’t seem like a debt she’d mind paying off.

  Chapter Ten

  Sighing
, Holly leaned back in the limo and gazed out the window as the convention center slid out of view. The awards ceremony was finally over, and they were on their way home. Kirk had left much earlier, so it was just her and her dad in the limo. It would take about half-an-hour to reach her apartment, she calculated. From there she planned to catch a taxi to Dane’s borrowed penthouse and spend the rest of the night there. Dane was waiting for her; she didn’t expect to get much sleep.

  In the seat opposite her, her father shifted, tapping his fingers against the armrest. He seemed too quiet, his expression too brooding. Was he still angry at being forced to share a table with the Schofields? Even though the Rochesters had claimed more awards tonight?

  “Dad, it was a great night,” she said. “I’m glad I came.”

  He nodded, his gaze sharpening on her. “Holly, I need to tell you something.”

  His somber expression made her sit up. “What is it?”

  “I was talking to someone tonight who knows one of the contestants for the Halifax. Donald, I think his name was.”

  “Yes, Donald. He was eliminated in the first round.”

  “Apparently he saw someone coming out of the suite assigned to you while you were away, that afternoon when Cassie went into labor.” Ralph leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “He didn’t get a good look, and he wasn’t paying much attention at the time, but he thinks it was Dane Schofield.”

  “Dane? But he was on the road getting Kirk to the hospital. It couldn’t have been him.”

  Her father’s eyes never wavered from hers. “Are you sure? What time did he drop Kirk off? He could’ve gone back to the Halifax while you were preoccupied with Cassie.”

  Holly swallowed, but the hard lump in her throat refused to budge. “Are you suggesting that Dane Schofield vandalized my suite?”

  “I’m not suggesting, I’m stating it.”

  She hauled in a breath. “I’m sorry, Dad, but I find it hard to believe. Dane was so helpful that day. I can’t believe he’d take advantage of Cassie going into labor to sabotage my room. Donald must be mistaken.”

  “Or maybe you’re too gullible.”

  “Gullible? I don’t know what you mean.”

  “It means I have eyes in my head. I saw the way you were looking at him tonight.”

  She curled her fingers into the material of her dress. “So what? He’s a good-looking guy. It doesn’t mean I’ve got a crush on him. I’ve learned my lesson about guys wanting something out of me. I’m not that stupid anymore. And yes, I’ve spent quite a bit of time with him and the other contestants. They’re all super-competitive, but none of them strike me as underhand.”

  Her father tilted his head up and heaved a sigh. “Maybe Dane isn’t mean and tricky, but I know his father is, and his father is calling the shots here. Look at the big picture. This Dane has been estranged from his family for years, and then he turns up like a bad penny, wanting to make nice with his dad, who’s sick and probably doesn’t have long to live. Of course he’d want to do anything to get the Halifax for his dad. Hell, Martin Schofield probably told him to wreck your suite first chance he got. You have to agree this thing stinks, and it all points to the Schofields.”

  An unwelcome memory intruded into Holly’s thoughts—Dane handing money to a couple of homeless teenagers in a side alley near the Halifax Hotel. What if it wasn’t about Dane feeling sorry for those street kids? What if he’d hired them to smash up her suite?

  An acrid taste soured her mouth as she stared out the window. A few drops of rain pattered against the glass, turning the street lights into blurs. Her heart was thudding painfully.

  “Dad, I…I don’t know what to say.”

  “You know I’m right, then. About Martin, at least. I don’t know Dane personally. He might be a straight up man on his own. But he’s in this competition on behalf of his father, and therefore he can’t be trusted. Not by one inch.”

  As much as she wanted to shout out and deny his words, they were seeping into her like the rain outside. Mingling with her own doubts. Finding cracks in her armor.

  Her father reached forward and clasped her hand. “Peanut, I just want to protect you, that’s all.”

  She gazed at the wrinkled back of his hand. He hadn’t held her hand and called her Peanut since her mom had died. Her throat was too choked for speech. She couldn’t say anything as the limo purred through the rain-slicked streets of San Francisco.

  ***

  Grimacing, Dane listened as the call went to voice mail again and had to restrain himself from hurling the cell phone across the room. This was the third time he’d rung Holly’s number, and the third time she’d refused to pick up.

  He glared at the phone as he checked his text messages one more time. There was still only the first message from her sent twenty minutes ago, saying she was sorry but she couldn’t make it tonight. He’d immediately texted back asking her the reason and wanting to know if there was anything he could do. She hadn’t replied. He’d sent more text messages, called repeatedly, and come up against a wall of silence.

  What the fuck was going on? After their brief interlude on the balcony, she’d assured him she couldn’t wait to get back to his apartment. And when they’d parted after the awards ceremony, the tiny smile she’d given him had promised him he wouldn’t have long to wait.

  But now it was past midnight, and he’d been pacing his penthouse for more than an hour.

  Screw this. He wasn’t going to wait here like a wuss. He’d ride over to her apartment and see what the situation was.

  Twenty minutes later, he parked his motorcycle around the corner from her building and strode to the entrance. Through the glass entrance doors he saw the doorman eyeing him cautiously. At this time of night the front doors would probably be locked, and the doorman wouldn’t let a stranger in without permission from a resident.

  He pulled out his cell phone and punched out a brief message: I’m outside your building. I’m not leaving until you let me in.

  He stood and waited. After the brief rain shower, the trees were dripping and the night air was brisk.

  A few minutes later, the doorman opened the front door and beckoned to him. “Ms Rochester said to go straight up.”

  With a brief nod, Dane entered the building and rode the elevator to the fourth floor. As he knocked on her door, a spasm of doubt passed through him. Was he charging into a shitstorm? Too late now. The door swung open.

  She’d changed into sweatpants and an oversized SF Giants T-shirt, but hadn’t wiped off her makeup. Dusky, shadowed blue eyes looked up at him.

  “Are you stalking me?” she demanded.

  He pushed past her into the apartment and turned to study her. “Are you hurt? Any food poisoning? Or family emergency?”

  She frowned at him. “No. Why?”

  “If it’s none of those things, then why didn’t you come to my place?”

  She slammed the door shut. “I changed my mind. That’s all.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  Her gaze slid away as she lifted her shoulders. “Can’t a girl change her mind? Does it have to cause so much drama?”

  “Yeah, of course you can change your mind, but you got to give me a reason.”

  “A reason!” Her head whipped up. “Listen here, you don’t have any claim on me! You and I, it’s just sex. That’s all. You—you have no right to stand outside my building and demand to be let in.”

  The faint tremor in her voice made his gut instincts twang. He moved forward, wanting to grasp her by the shoulders, but thought better of it. She was in a strange, antagonistic mood, and he didn’t know what had set it off.

  “Holly, for fuck’s sake,” he said quietly. “Just tell me what happened. And don’t try to say nothing happened. Something did, between us leaving and now. What was it? Was it something your father said to you?”

  She clamped her jaw, her eyes darting away from his, but not before he’d caught a shadow of anxiety.


  “Oh, Jesus.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Did he see us on the balcony? Is that what happened? But we returned to the table separately, and he didn’t seem any different. Wouldn’t he—”

  “No, it wasn’t that.”

  She walked away from him and into the nearby living room. He followed her, stood and waited while she prowled around, barefoot on the soft carpet like an agitated cat.

  “The security guard thought it might’ve been teenagers who broke in and trashed my room,” she said, her voice taut. “The other day I saw you giving cash to a couple of kids near the hotel.”

  His head pounded. “I wasn’t paying them off, if that’s what you’re implying.”

  “Weren’t you? They seemed happy about something.”

  “Because they had enough for a hostel and a solid meal,” he retorted. “Jesus, since when did showing empathy become a crime?”

  She halted and squared off with him, arms folded across her chest. “My dad did tell me something. You remember Donald, right? Well, apparently he saw someone coming out of my suite while I was away with Cassie. He thought it was you.”

  His spine grew rigid as he digested her words. “So now you think I personally vandalized your suite? Holly, it wasn’t me.”

  A thin line appeared between her eyes. She looked like she was struggling to contain herself.

  “It could have been you,” she said. “You—you had time, after you left Kirk at the hospital and when I saw you later that night.”

  Mimicking her stance, he crossed his arms. It didn’t stop the harsh battering in his chest. “I suppose I did. How would I’ve got into your suite, though? Breaking the lock would’ve caused some noise. The others would’ve heard me. Besides, there were no signs of forced entry.”

  She pressed her lips together in a pained grimace. “You—you could’ve taken the key from me. I was so flustered that day I barely noticed anything. And then you could’ve returned the key later when…when we ended up here.”

  He couldn’t stop his jaw dropping. Hot and cold waves raced over him.

  “Let me get this straight. You think that I—” He swallowed, swiped a forearm across his sweaty brow. “You think that I helped you that day with the sole purpose of getting you out of the way and filching your key. I smashed up your room, then deliberately seduced you just so I could slip the key back into your purse while you were sleeping. Is that about it?”