He lifted his hand and trailed his fingers down my cheek. I wanted to push him away, but I just sat there staring at him. At least my expression didn’t betray that I felt anything besides loathing and disgust. I hoped.
“I’m sorry I hurt you. It didn’t take me long to realize how much I like you, Lia. We have a good time together, and we’re fantastic in bed. I accepted I could fall in love with you easily, but I still proceeded with my plan.”
I glared at him. “Don’t you dare try to pretend you love me.”
He shook his head. “I’m not, honey. I could love you. It wouldn’t take much, but I’m not there yet. We don’t know each other well enough. I don’t deserve a second chance, or an opportunity to fall completely, madly, and helplessly in love with you, but I hope you’re a better person than me.”
I shook my head. “Don’t.”
He cupped my cheek, caressing my chin with his thumb. “Don’t what?”
Tears scalded my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “Don’t use pretty words or whatever to hurt me more. You’ve done enough.”
The bastard had the audacity to lean closer, his lips almost brushing mine. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore, Lia. I just want to make you feel good and show you how much I care.”
He actually kissed me. That no-good dickhead pressed his lips to mine. As soon as I could get my lips to stop molding to his and responding, I was going to tell him he was an arrogant ass, and he’d blown his chance.
At some point, we broke apart mutually. I was a little surprised to find myself in his arms, our foreheads touching. My brain was crystal clear about the fact he was scum, and he didn’t deserve more chances to hurt me. My hormones were in conflict with that dictate, and I refused to even consider my emotions in the equation. “Get out,” I said softly, recognizing the lack of conviction.
He bit his lip. “If that’s really what you want, I’ll leave you alone. Tell me to go, and I’m gone.”
“Go,” I whispered.
He groaned. “No.”
“You’re a liar.”
“Yes, I am. I’m also manipulative, scheming, and heartless.” He closed his eyes, his breath caressing my lips when he exhaled raggedly. His lids opened a second later. “I’m also completely and sincerely sorry for hurting you, Lia. I let myself get caught up in the drama between my parents, and I blatantly ignored my own conscience. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’m begging for it.”
“I don’t know if I can forgive you.” The words were true. I might still want him, but could I get past what he’d done?
“Could you at least try? Please give me a chance to show you I really am sorry?”
It was a ballsy request, and I knew I should say no. Protecting myself from further hurt should trump the pain I saw in his eyes. I shouldn’t give a damn about his feelings, since he had been so cavalier with mine.
I guess I was just a weak-willed sucker, because I found myself nodding and kissing him back when he slanted his mouth over mine. I hoped I wasn’t making a mistake, but as he held me against him, I couldn’t help thinking something that felt so wonderful couldn’t be the wrong thing.
Epilogue
Lia
I watched my husband finishing the last song of his first set at his first real concert. He owned the crowd. Since ditching his band and going solo, his career had taken off. My dad’s contacts probably hadn’t hurt matters any, but Declan hadn’t relied on the Ambrose connection to get where he was. He’d busted his ass the past three years to prove himself as a musician.
And as a lover. He’d more than made it up to me. After meeting Deidre shortly after we got engaged, I could easily see how she had manipulated him. It hadn’t excused him not thinking for himself, or his willingness to use me to hurt my dad, but I’d understood better how he’d ended up in that situation.
That had been important insight, but I’d already forgiven him by that point. He’d proven he’d deserved that second chance I’d given him. Even my dad had come around and admitted Declan was a good guy who’d made a dumb decision.
I still remembered the first time he’d told me he loved me. It was about six months after that night in my room, and we’d been walking down the pier, hand-in-hand. It hadn’t been a momentous occasion or something special that had sparked the words. I’d had ice cream on my chin, and he’d stopped be at the rail to dab it off with a napkin.
Looking deep into my eyes, he’d said, “I love you,” kissed me, and we’d walked on. It had taken me another week to summon the courage to admit I felt the same, though I’d known it for a while.
After that, things had moved quickly. We’d gotten engaged, I’d met Deidre—and she’d made little effort to hide her disgust with me, which convinced me she had watched the video, though Declan still thought otherwise—and we had gotten married within three months. My lovely mother-in-law had done us all a favor by pretending to have a migraine at the last minute.
Cynically, I’d wondered if she had intended for Declan to leave me at the altar to go check on her. If he’d done so, would he have walked in on a carefully orchestrated suicide attempt? I didn’t care, and he must not have either, because he’d been at the church early, and my dad had told me later, with amusement, that he’d paced around and had been certain I would change my mind before sealing the deal.
I hadn’t, and the rest was history. Or the future, because we still had our entire lives ahead of us. I didn’t know what was in store for us, but I knew we’d face it together. He would be there for me, and he would do anything to keep from hurting me, because he was a good man, like his father, and he loved me as much as I loved him.
********
Claimed
Preparing to marry a man she doesn’t love, getting kidnapped the night of her engagement party is the last thing Ambra Hathaway expects. She hasn’t seen her stepbrother in three years, since the night Ethan Cartwright turned down her clumsy attempt at seduction. Why has he taken her now? Could it really be because he’s been in love with her all this time and was just waiting for her to be old enough to claim as his? She has two days to find out—and do her best to withstand his anything-but-clumsy seduction attempts.
Chapter One
“Excuse me, Miss Hathaway, but Mr. Cartwright needs you.”
Ambra turned to face the severe butler, unsurprised to see Mr. Gibbons without a smile. In the entire sixteen years she had lived in Philip Cartwright’s house, she’d never seen him smile. “Do you know what he needs? I thought he was about to make the announcement.”
Her stomach surged with nausea when she said the word, instantly forcing her to recall the occasion for which all the people were gathered in the Cartwrights’ large home. She struggled to hide her lack of enthusiasm as she awaited the butler’s response.
“He simply said it was urgent, Miss Hathaway.” Without awaiting further response, he turned on his heel, and Ambra knew she had to keep up, because once Mr. Gibbons had a mission, he fulfilled it. She expected him to lead her into a different part of the house, perhaps the solarium, where her stepfather was prepared to make the announcement of the engagement.
She couldn’t even think the word without her stomach churning, but she reminded herself again what was at stake. It didn’t matter that she didn’t love Perry Statler, and he didn’t love her. All that mattered was maintaining the company and jobs for thousands of employees.
To her surprise, Mr. Gibbons led her to the back of the house, through the kitchen, and out the back door. “What in the world is my stepfather doing out here?” A strange smile flickered across Mr. Gibbons’s face, and the sight was so unusual she flinched at the sign of amusement from the stoic man.
“Mr. Cartwright will be with you shortly.” With a small inclination of his head, he turned and left her in the backyard.
Ambra hugged herself to ward off the chill of the late fall evening, wondering what her father was planning. Technically, he was her stepfather, but had married her moth
er when Ambra was just five, and she had never met her real father. When her mother died three years later, he’d adopted her with minimal fuss and had honored her request to keep her last name as tribute to her dead parents.
She loved Philip Cartwright just like a father, so she was willing to indulge him in most things, including agreeing to a loveless marriage to cement the company merger. However, as much as she loved her stepfather, she wasn’t about to stand out in the cold air all night.
Ambra moved toward the back door, planning to reenter the kitchen and let her stepfather find her inside, but movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention. She froze and glanced the direction from which it had come, letting out a yelp of surprise when strong arms enfolded her.
They held her tightly against them, whoever they were. She opened her mouth to scream, and a large hand clamped over her lips. As the person lifted and carried her, Ambra couldn’t quite grasp she was being kidnapped from her own backyard on the night of her engagement party. It was even more of a surprise to have the abductor shove her into the back of a limousine a second later. What kind of kidnapper used a limousine?
The kidnapper had placed her on the floorboard with her face pointed toward the floor, and he didn’t allow her up until the car started moving. Cautiously, her body shaking with fear, she slowly turned.
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell her abductor he was stealing the wrong person if he wanted ransom. The Cartwright fortune had dwindled over the years, and the company was on the verge of bankruptcy. Philip would go crazy trying to rescue her, or meet the kidnapper’s demands, but they simply lacked the funds to do so.
That fled from her mind when she identified who had abducted her. Ambra couldn’t resist the urge to slap his handsome face, though it made her palm sting, and she winced as she pulled away to cradle her hand in her lap “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Ethan Cartwright?” She hadn’t seen her stepbrother in three years, not since that terribly embarrassing night she’d gone to his room, and this was the first contact after all that time? “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you turn around and take me home right now.”
“Sorry, sweet stepsister, but that isn’t in the cards for you tonight.”
She glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest when she abruptly remembered the low cut of her pink evening gown. “What’s going on? Why would you do this? I have to get back before the announcement.”
He arched a brow. “The announcement? Oh, you must mean the great announcement of your engagement to Perry Statler, heir to a toilet paper empire? How appropriate,” he said sardonically.
Her glower deepened, and she refused to allow him to see she’d had the thought herself more than once. “I don’t know why you’re acting so high and mighty, Ethan. You’re heir to a paper goods empire. Your fortune was built on Styrofoam plates and paper napkins.”
His expression darkened, and he shifted slightly on the sumptuous leather seat. “My fortune has nothing to do with the Cartwright paper empire, Ambra. You should know by now that Philip disowned me years ago.”
She blinked, digesting the news slowly. “No, I didn’t know that. I’d just assumed you had left and chose not to return for…reasons.” Had she really assumed he hadn’t come back because of her confession?
Now that she really took time to examine the idea, she realized how preposterous it was. Ethan wouldn’t have stayed away to spare her feelings or avoid awkwardness, because he wasn’t that sensitive. He was more the alpha male, take-charge, run-you-over and destroy-all-opposition type. Once upon a time, she’d found that incredibly sexy.
Disconcertingly, as she examined him from the corner of her eye where he sat across from her on the other seat, she had to admit he was still as sexy as ever. Three years had passed, but he looked just as young as ever. He had to be thirty by now, since she was twenty-one, but he could have passed for his mid-twenties.
However, his perfectly tailored gray suit and expensive haircut lent him an air of maturity and wisdom she assumed was deceptive, since he had resorted to kidnapping just recently. “Will you just tell me what all this is about? I have things I have to do, and having a little chat with my stepbrother doesn’t rank high on the list.”
He pulled a face, feigning hurt. “You’ve destroyed me, Ambra. Why, three years ago, you wanted to have a lot more than a cozy chat.” He surprised her by crossing the distance between them to sit on the seat beside her.
Ambra scooted as far away as she could, until she pressed against the car door. The jerk followed, not allowing any room between them. “Have you ever heard of personal space?”
He put his arm around her shoulders, his fingers stroking her upper arm in a way that was maddeningly distracting. She no longer felt anything emotionally for him, and she didn’t want to allow physical response to sway her. It was awfully hard to remind herself of that when his other hand grasped her thigh, squeezing lightly as he moved farther northward.
With determination, Ambra put her hand over his, pressing her fingernails into his flesh in a warning fashion. “Stop playing games and tell me what you’re doing.”
“That’s easy enough, Ambra. I’m claiming you.”
She arched a brow, staring at him impassively. “Just what the heck does that mean?”
Ethan laughed lightly, revealing sharp white teeth. “It means I’m taking you up on the invitation issued three years ago.” Despite her hand on his, he moved higher up her leg, until his fingers brushed her mound. Ambra hated the way her panties dampened at the slightest touch from him. “Don’t you remember that night, Ambra?”
She glared at him as she tried to pull his hand away. He didn’t move any higher, but he didn’t take the forceful hint to move away either. “I try to think about that incident as little as possible. In fact, never sounds good. In my mind, it never happened.” Her face tingled as she flushed, and embarrassment crept over her again just from the memory of that night.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Ambra, because there isn’t a day I don’t think about it. I remember you coming into my room in that tiny white nightgown, your breasts barely held in place by strategically placed lace. I remember you telling me how much you wanted me, and that you loved me. Do you remember you said you had fallen for me during that summer, when I came to live with you for a while after my mother died? You were certain I felt the same way.”
She snorted. “It didn’t take you long to tell me otherwise, did it? Why would I want to remember that horrid night when I was such a little fool? Just take me home, Ethan.”
“I am, Ambra. I’m taking you to my home, and then I’m going to take you.”
Her eyes widened as she stared at him, certain he was bluffing. “I still don’t know what you’re getting out of this, but it’s not funny. I don’t want you, and you don’t want me. You didn’t then, and you don’t now, so whatever your motives—”
With the speed of a striking snake, Ethan lifted her onto his lap, and before she could even think about pushing him away, his mouth covered hers. Ambra tried to resist, but as soon as his lips molded to hers, her annoying body betrayed her by melting against him. His tongue probed the seam of her lips, demanding entry that she didn’t want to refuse, and her lips parted to allow him access.
Ethan seemed determined to taste every niche in her mouth, and his tongue swept forcefully through her moist recesses. She tried to pin it with her own against her cheek, but he was wily and darted away before deepening the kiss, his hand grasping the back of her head, fingers threaded through her black locks to hold her in place against him.
Ambra whimpered as his mouth devoured hers, though she wasn’t impassive by any means. She was an ardent participant, and her hands seemed to have a mind of their own as they slid under the lapels of his jacket, trying to stroke his skin through the fine linen shirt.
Her nipples beaded when he cupped one of her breasts, his thumb rubbing lightly against the turgid bud. She arched her back, not cer
tain if she was trying to escape or asking for more as his mouth moved from hers down her cheek, to her neck. She couldn’t hold in a moan when he nibbled and sucked the bend of her neck. Her fingers sought out the buttons of his shirt, and she had partially stripped him, plunging her hands inside to stroke his firm chest before she realized what she was doing.
With a gasp and a groan that was partially from forcing herself to disengage from him, she pushed against him instead of continuing to stroke his lightly furred chest. Ambra turned her head from him, making it more difficult for his mouth to find hers if he grew bored with her neck, and she drew in a deep breath in an attempt to restore her calm. “Let go of me.”
“Never, Ambra. You’re mine now. You offered yourself three years ago, but you were too young, and I was trying to do the right thing. You’ve had a chance to explore other relationships and grow older now, and you’re finally ready to belong to me.”
Her eyes widened at his chauvinistic words, and her heart raced, though she wasn’t certain if that was from excitement, annoyance, or a combination of the two emotions. “You can’t just claim me, Ethan. I was a dumb girl back then, and I let an attraction overwhelmed me. It didn’t mean anything.”
His expression darkened, and he cupped her face between his hands. “It meant a great deal. It was harder than hell to turn away from you, and I won’t make that mistake again. When I heard you were about to marry Statler, I knew I couldn’t allow that to happen.
“I had to send you away that night because of your age and your inexperience. You were barely eighteen, and you hadn’t even really dated. You weren’t ready to belong to a man, but it’s been three years, and if you can get engaged to the toilet paper prince, you’re certainly ready to belong to me.”
Ambra wanted to continue to shake her head and refuse to listen to him, but his sincerity and intensity made it impossible to doubt what he was saying. Could it be he’d really wanted her three years ago, but had turned her down because he’d thought it was the right thing to do? Had he been trying to be a good guy and inadvertently scarred her in the process?
Alphas: A Stepbrother Romance Collection Page 6
