Secret Affair with the Millionaire (The Rochesters)

by Coleen Kwan

Dane strode out of the hotel and paused for a moment to pass a hand over the clammy back of his neck. The sunlight felt too harsh on his skin, making him feel exposed and vulnerable. He started to walk blindly. It didn’t matter where; he just needed to get away from the hotel. Get away from Holly.

  Her pinched face haunted him. Why the hell didn’t she believe him? Why did her doubt tie him into furious knots and make him want to blow up? The acid in his gut boiled hotter.

  The person he should be strangling was that skeezy journalist. Who had tipped him off? Because there was no way he’d have got that photo without inside knowledge from someone. Who? The same ratbag who’d trashed Holly’s room, obviously. But the photo and the shitstorm it had created would never have happened if he and Holly hadn’t been so reckless. They’d both known the risks of starting an affair, but the physical connection was too strong to ignore.

  Although, Holly believed he’d deliberately set out to seduce him just to give him an advantage in the competition. Did she really think he could be such a sleazy scuzzbag?

  He jostled past a group of tourists, barely seeing where he was going. It felt like a giant boulder had lodged in his chest and was crushing his lungs.

  He and Holly were finished, but what about everything else? His sole reason for returning to San Francisco was to lay the past to rest. As much as he pretended it didn’t matter to him, he wanted to feel like he belonged in his family again, but his hopes had been dashed. I’m disappointed in you, Dane. Not the worst he’d heard from his father by a long shot, but the sour words persisted in his brain.

  At least Holly had managed to patch things up with her father. Dane, coming down to the hotel foyer, had heard voices coming from the ballroom. He’d opened the door, stopping short when he realized Holly and Ralph were in there. He’d listened to them talking for a minute or so before slipping away when they started hugging each other.

  Now he knew the real reason why Holly was so eager to get the Halifax Hotel. It wasn’t just about proving herself. It was also about honoring her mom’s memory and lifting her dad’s spirits. Holly had a real family, unlike him. If she won the Gilberts challenge, it would make a genuine difference to her. If she won…

  A crazy idea entered his thoughts. He shook his head. No, it was insane. Did he have rocks in his head? But the suggestion wouldn’t let go of him.

  He ought to despise Holly for believing the worst in him, but he couldn’t get the image of her and her father embracing out of his head. He didn’t want to see her again, didn’t want to be reminded of her. But he knew he’d never get her out of his mind, no matter how hard he tried. Maybe, if he did this one stupid, irrational thing, it would help him, help to put all of this behind him.

  His mind clarified. Yes. He’d do it. Even though it made no sense, to him it was the best option.

  He strode to the edge of the curb and lifted a hand to hail a taxi.

  ***

  When Holly returned to the sixteenth floor, the corridor was empty, and she let out a heartfelt sigh. Her hands were still trembling, and she didn’t think she could face any further inquisitive questions. At the door of her suite she stopped. The copy of The Bay Chronicle that had triggered so much angst was still lying on the floor. She bent to pick it up and walked into her suite.

  Inside, she sank onto a couch. Where had Dane gone? What would she do when she saw him again? She would see him again, wouldn’t she? Her throat ached; in fact, every part of her body ached as if she’d been flattened by a Humvee.

  She lifted the newspaper and stared at the photo. The starstruck expression on her face made her wince. She’d never seen herself like that before. That bloom to her skin, it was like an inner fire blazing within her, and it wasn’t just caused by sex. She lit up just being around Dane. Because there was something in him that called to her, something she only found in him.

  The truth of the photo stared her in the face. She was in love with Dane Schofield. The camera didn’t lie, but she had, out of fear.

  Groaning, she covered her face with her hands. What a total mess! How could she fall in love with a man she barely knew? It was ridiculous. But not impossible. What was impossible was the thought of living without him.

  But what about her suspicions? What if he had played her?

  No. She didn’t believe that. She’d allowed her judgment to be clouded—by her father’s feud with the Schofields, by her hurt pride following her ex-boyfriend’s fraud—but Dane was honest and honorable; he’d never do something so underhand.

  She scrambled to her feet. She had to find Dane and tell him how she felt.

  The next second she collapsed back on the couch. Oh god, she couldn’t do that! He despised her; he’d made that quite clear downstairs in the hotel lobby. He’d pressed her to believe him, and she’d rejected him. He didn’t want to see her now, and who could blame him?

  Besides, she was forgetting something really important. Dane might be into amazing sex, but he didn’t do relationships. He’d made it plain from the start. The last thing he’d want was her going all clingy and emotional on him.

  Well, amazing sex was a start, wasn’t it? She could be honest with him. Tell him she didn’t expect anything in return, but maybe he’d grow to like having her around. After all, he had to admit the sex was incredible…maybe it could work.

  She sat up, tingling with hope. Then sagged down again.

  She was forgetting the feud between their families and Dane’s need to reconcile with his difficult father. To keep his promise to his mom and protect his sister, Dane would side with his family. He’d choose them over her, no matter how incredible the sex. She’d never stand a chance.

  And the worst thing was, she’d dug this hole herself. She’d thought she was too smart to lose her heart; she’d thought she could start a fire and not get burnt. But now she was completely screwed. She’d fallen in love with the only man she had no hope of winning.

  ***

  “You did what?”

  Martin’s eyes bulged as he struggled to rise from his recliner in his den.

  Dane forced himself not to move forward to lend a hand, knowing his assistance was the last thing his dad wanted right now.

  “I told you. I went to the Gilberts and withdrew my bid.”

  “But—but you can’t!” Martin spluttered. Finally managing to haul himself to his feet, he grabbed his walking stick and limped forward.

  Dane rolled his shoulders. The den was roasting hot. Or maybe it was just him, sweating from the stress. “I’m sorry, Dad. I just did.”

  “Are you insane? After all the effort you went to? All the work you did on the Rochester girl? You threw it all away?”

  Dane’s spine stiffened. “For the last time, I did not work on Holly. What happened between us was…spontaneous.” And utterly incredible. But that wasn’t relevant anymore.

  “Then why the hell are you giving up?”

  Martin’s bony hand clenched the top of his walking stick. He’d changed out of his suit and put on his dressing gown, something he didn’t normally do in the middle of the day. Which meant he must be having a bad turn. Guilt squirmed in Dane’s gut. The man was old and sick; he shouldn’t be adding to his stress.

  Then Martin thrust his head forward and pulled his lips back in a bare-teethed snarl. “Answer me, boy!”

  In an instant Dane was back to being twelve again, skinny, lonely, and scared of his father. He pushed the memory away and squared his shoulders.

  “Because I shouldn’t have to win anything for you to accept me. I’m your son, Dad. I’m your flesh and blood. And I’m not a drug pusher or a jailbird or a deadbeat. I’ve built up my own business from scratch, and it’s worth millions. Not in your league, sure, but I’m my own man. I don’t need your help or your approval to lead a full and decent life.”

  “Then why the hell did you come back!” Martin roared.

  Despite himself, Dane flinched. But he recovered and made himself stand tall. “You want to know why? Be
cause, just before she died, Mom asked me never to give up on you. Never to miss the opportunity to reconcile with you. Because she knew how you felt about me; and she knew she was asking a lot of a twelve-year-old. But I promised her. That’s why when I left home I sent you postcards at least once a year, telling you my news, even though you never replied except when it suited you. And that’s why I came back when you asked me to. Because of Mom. That’s all.”

  Cold silence fell. Martin had grown quiet and rigid. He glared at Dane as if he wished he could set him on fire. “Well, you tried, but as usual you screwed it up.” He flung out an arm in a gesture of disgust.

  Dane pushed his hands into his pockets to stop them from shaking. What was he expecting? That his dad would fling his arms around him the way Holly’s dad had hugged her? That was too much to hope for.

  “The only reason you wanted the Halifax was to stop the Rochesters from getting it,” Dane said.

  “And now they will, thanks to you,” his father spit out. “It’s the girl. You’re giving up because you still want to bang her. That’s the real reason, isn’t it?”

  “I told you, she and I are over.” Definitely over, after he’d asked her to believe in him and she’d refused.

  “No, you’re not. I can tell. You’re so besotted with her you’d sell your own family short.”

  “Not. True.” His hands were crunched so hard the bones were hurting.

  Martin dropped into the recliner and shaded his face with a hand. “Go,” he muttered. “There’s nothing more to discuss.”

  There was. Saffron. He had to try and find a solution for her. But this was the worst time to bring her up. He looked down at his father. The hand propping up his head was spotted with age and unsteady. The sight made Dane’s throat constrict. Damn, why did he have to feel anything for the old man except scorn?

  “We’ll talk later.”

  His father didn’t move or respond. Dane exited the den. Once outside, he leaned against the corridor wall and drew in several deep breathes. His head was pounding, his stomach a seething soup of bitterness.

  You’re so besotted with her you’d sell up your own family.

  The words beat against his skull. Not true, he’d snarled out. But he was lying. Lying to his father, lying to himself. He was besotted with Holly, to the point of love. Yes, as crazy as it sounded, he was in love with her.

  He pressed a hand to his chest and massaged the growing ache. He was the last person to fall in love. And besides, he’d only known her a month since their one-night stand in Lake Tahoe. He couldn’t possibly be in love. But he was.

  The truth had come to him when he’d decided to withdraw his bid. For her sake. Nothing else. Yes, he was in love with Holly, and it didn’t matter that she despised him, suspected him. That she’d never feel the same way about him.

  He squeezed his hands. Suddenly he was striding toward the elevator, his instincts of old kicking in. He had to get out. Had to get away from here. From all this conflict and heartache. The image of his shiny Triumph Bonneville sprang to mind. That’s what he needed, his motorcycle and the open road in front of him. No one calling him, depending on him, yanking on his heartstrings. No promises or mistrust or hurt.

  He’d stop by his apartment, pack a rucksack, and get the hell out of San Francisco. For a moment he experienced a spasm of guilt at leaving Saffron behind. But he wasn’t abandoning her completely. He would call her as often as he could, arrange for her to visit him in Austin, be as good a long-distance big brother as he could.

  But right now he had to leave. There was nothing to keep him here.

  ***

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but Mr. Schofield isn’t accepting visitors today.”

  Holly glared at the doorman in frustration. “Tell him it’s me, Holly.” She pointed at the telephone on the front desk.

  The beefy doorman merely shook his head. With a huff, Holly pulled out her cell phone. Her fingers jittered as she tapped out a message: Can we talk? Please?

  She’d never pleaded with a man like this before. But she was desperate. And so stomach-churning petrified she wasn’t sure what reply she wished for.

  After a few minutes of restless pacing around the entrance lobby, there was no return message. The doorman had been eyeing her suspiciously but luckily he was busy taking delivery of several parcels.

  All right, she’d call him. She brought up the number. The call eventually rang out without Dane picking up. She tried again. Same result. She sucked in a breath. Right. This called for desperate measures.

  She texted Dane another message: Who do I have to sleep with to get into your apartment? Your doorman?

  A minute later the phone on the front desk rang. The doorman picked it up, listened, and murmured something. He replaced the receiver and nodded at Holly.

  “You can go up, ma’am.”

  She hurried past him and into a waiting elevator before he could change his mind. As the car rose to the top floor, so did her heart rate. What was she going to say to Dane when she saw him? She had no real plan. She was flying by the seat of her pants, hoping a miracle would happen.

  The elevator pinged, and the steel doors rumbled open. She stepped into the penthouse. Dane stood a few yards away. He was dressed in jeans, boots, and leather jacket. His face was a mask, his shoulders square, his legs slightly apart. Like a gunslinger.

  “Make it quick,” he said. “I’m hitting the road in fifteen minutes.”

  Her gaze bounced from him to the bulging rucksack resting on the polished concrete floor and the motorcycle helmet leaning against it.

  “You’re…leaving?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Like leave leaving?” She waved a hand, feeling like a bag of flour had dropped on her head.

  He massaged the bridge of his nose. “Why are you here?” He sounded impatient, tired. Tired of her.

  She swallowed. “Where are you going?”

  “Back to Austin.”

  “But you’ll be back next week when the Gilberts announce the winner, right?”

  “Nope. I don’t plan on coming back.”

  There was a weird, cotton wooly taste in her mouth. “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s simple. I pulled my bid. I’m out of the competition. There’s no reason for me to hang around here. I have a life back in Austin and a business to run.”

  She still didn’t understand. Nothing he said made any sense. She passed a hand over her forehead. Why were there black dots dancing in front of her eyes?

  “You’d better sit down.” Dane’s voice sounded gruff.

  She staggered to a nearby black couch and sank into the cushions. Dane picked up a glossy, white plastic stool and sat himself in front of her, resting his elbows on his knees.

  “Why did you come here?” he asked again, an edge to his voice. “We said everything there was to say at the hotel.”

  “Not—not quite.” The hardness in his expression made her insides quail. How on earth was she going to tell him how she felt when he looked so forbidding?

  “Why did you pull your bid?” she said in a rush, desperate to delay the moment of truth. “I thought you wanted to win to keep your promise to your mom, and for Saffron’s sake. Why did you change your mind?”

  “What does it matter to you?” His eyes were bleak.

  She gripped her hands together. “I—I’d like to know,” she murmured. “Please.”

  He gazed at her for several moments, his mouth compressed.

  “Because—” He broke off to rub his hand over his messy black hair before lifting his gaze to hers. “Because I’ve had enough of jumping through hoops for my father. If he’s only going to accept me because I win the Halifax, then it doesn’t mean much. And my mom would agree.”

  “But he must have been furious when you told him.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Dane gave a short, bitter laugh. “But I’m used to that.”

  He seemed so contained, so calm that an outsider would’ve thought it m
eant little to him. But she could sense the turmoil inside him. The ticking pulse in his forehead, the grooves bracketing his mouth, all pointed to the seething emotion he was so at pains to suppress. What was he not telling her?

  “And you’re okay with that? You’re just going to return to Austin and carry on as if nothing ever happened?”

  “Sure. Nothing did happen, did it?” He gave her a hard look, then slapped his palms on his knees and pushed to his feet. “Well, I should hit the road. I’ve got eighteen hundred miles to ride.”

  She shot to her feet, bracing her legs to bear her weight. “You were going to leave without telling me?”

  He frowned at her. “Why wouldn’t I? You made your feelings crystal clear earlier. I don’t owe you anything.”

  She bit her lip against the barb she so deserved. “I, uh, I still think we need to talk.”

  Letting out a deep exhale, he propped his hands on his hips. “Look, I’m out of the competition. You’re just up against Chad and Simone, and from what I saw of your bid, you’ve got a very strong chance of winning. Better than mine, I’m willing to admit. You’ll get the Halifax Hotel, your dad will be ecstatic, and you’ll prove to everyone you’re an asset to the company. You’ll get everything you want, so what else is there to talk about?”

  He turned away and loped toward the rucksack and helmet. She teetered after him.

  “But I don’t have everything I want!” Her voice came out squeaky, panicked.

  He halted and slowly turned around.

  She licked lips that were suddenly as dry as Arizona. “I—I’m talking about us.”

  His expression hardened, his mouth clamping into a tight line. “I’m warning you, Holly. Don’t fuck with me. You and I are done. I thought that was obvious.”

  The words came at her like stones. Her insides cringed, but she took a few steps toward him. He stiffened, and her footsteps faltered. He wasn’t going to make this easy for her, but god help her she couldn’t give up without trying.

  Gathering her courage, she closed the gap and placed her hand on his chest between the open flaps of his leather jacket. Beneath the soft T-shirt she felt his hard wall of muscle, and an anxious thrill shot through her.