by Kwan, Coleen
His already-flushed cheeks grew darker. Ha. Score one to me.
He lurched forward. Brandy fumes enveloped her. “And you don’t look the type to bounce your boobs in front of a camera.” He licked his lips. “But here we are.”
Her hand twitched with the impulse to slap him across the cheek. Sleazy jerk. He gave himself all these airs, but he was no better than all the other morons she’d had to deal with. Starring in an embarrassing video sure told you who your friends were.
“It’s getting late.” She tried to sidestep him but he blocked her exit. Oh damn, where the hell was Owen?
“Owen will be back soon,” she said loudly, hopefully.
“I don’t think so.” His hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist. “After all, he wouldn’t want to interrupt the entertainment he’s laid on for me, would he?”
She was so shocked she didn’t resist when he yanked her toward him, but as she fell against him, revulsion slammed into her.
“No.” She tried to pull free, but his fingers gouged more deeply into her flesh. “No.”
“Yes.” Lizard eyes flickered over her.
Blood roared in her ears. How dare he manhandle her like this? She was going to have to knee the revolting imbecile in the groin, dammit, and as soon as she did, all Owen’s hard work would be for nothing. But she couldn’t let this sleazebag push her around. She took a deep breath and—
“Let her go.” Owen’s voice growled just behind her, making her pulse leap. “Now.”
Asquith fumed at him. “If you know what’s good for you, Bellamy, just turn around and walk out.”
Owen’s hand fastened on her shoulder, and his reassuring warmth rushed through her. “Sound advice. You should take it.”
As Asquith’s face darkened, Paige yanked herself free. She stepped back into the solid protection of Owen’s body. Instantly he curved his arm around her shoulders, pulling her farther away. The furious hum of his body enveloped her and set her heart pounding in unison.
“Come on.” He turned them away from Asquith. “Let’s get out of here before I do something I regret.”
They hadn’t taken two steps when a roar sounded behind them and Owen staggered as Asquith charged at him, knocking him forward. Cheeks mottled, the billionaire let loose a stream of obscenities as he swung his fists at Owen. The first punch caught Owen on the chin. He grunted but stood his ground. Paige couldn’t breathe. As Asquith launched a second punch, Owen’s hand shot up and wrapped around the other man’s fist. For a second the two men stared at each other, Owen’s grip rock steady, his face a study in grim determination. The muscles in his biceps swelled before he shoved the other man away with explosive force. Asquith stumbled back, arms windmilling, mouth gaping in shock. He toppled against the coffee table.
“Damn you…” He grabbed the empty brandy snifter and hurled it at Owen.
“Watch out!” Paige cried.
Owen ducked. The glass smashed into the wall. Owen stepped forward and slapped Asquith across the face. The smacking sound echoed around the den.
“You—you—” Asquith choked, incandescent with rage. A bright red palm print glowed on his cheek.
“You have ten minutes to get out of my house.” Owen was breathing hard, his face white and implacable.
Still panting, Asquith drew himself up. “I—”
“Ten minutes. Hurry up. The clock’s ticking.”
The billionaire stood there, clearly too flabbergasted to move. Paige held her breath. If Asquith didn’t leave, she had no doubt that Owen would literally throw him out the house. The situation was dire enough; she didn’t want that to happen. Fortunately Cranston appeared in the doorway, silent as a shadow. He seemed to know what had happened—maybe he’d been lurking outside—as he quietly moved to his employee’s side and began to guide him out of the room. Hair askew, Asquith shook off his butler’s hold, shot one last enraged look at Owen, and stalked out.
Cranston followed. As he passed Paige, he murmured, “I’ve already organized transport. We’ll be gone in five minutes.”
And then she was alone with Owen. She let out a long exhale, realizing she’d been holding her breath for heaven knew how long. The atmosphere in the den felt as shattered as the brandy snifter lying in pieces on the floor. Owen stood, his face and eyes like granite, fists clenched at his sides. A dull bruise was forming on his jaw where Asquith’s punch had landed. At the sight of his injury, her heart started aching all over again. Her first instinct was to rush to him, but the bleakness in his eyes made her quail. Owen looked like he’d lost everything in his life.
But she couldn’t leave him. Instead, she moved over to the wall where the brandy snifter had broken. Shards of glass sparkled on the floor.
“Leave it,” Owen bit out.
“But I should—”
“Leave it, for God’s sake. Go to bed. I don’t want you here when Asquith comes back downstairs.”
Her stomach heaved. It was all her fault. She’d ruined his chances with Asquith and all because of that wretched video. Her one moment of stupidity had swung a wrecking ball through Owen’s business deal. He’d been anxious not to slip up in his manners or dress, had even roped her in for advice. How ironic that she should be responsible for this disaster.
I’m so, so sorry, she wanted to cry out, but what was the use in apologizing? Especially when Owen looked like he wanted to strangle someone—probably her. She had to put things right. Somehow—she hadn’t the faintest idea how—she had to get Owen his business deal. She had to get him to not hate her so much. But right now, she saw, all he wanted was for her to disappear.
She dusted her hands and left the room, not even brave enough to wish him good-night.
Chapter Eleven
Owen watched the taillights of the taxi slowly disappear into the darkness. He’d stood on the porch like a bouncer while Cranston and the driver loaded the luggage and Asquith flounced into the backseat, never acknowledging Owen.
When the quiet of the night once more descended, he went back inside. As he shut the door, the house seemed bigger and emptier than ever before. He collected a brush and pan from the kitchen and took care of the broken glass in the den. He cleaned up the mess left after dinner, then went upstairs to strip the beds made up for Asquith and his butler. All signs of his visitors had to be removed, and he didn’t want Paige doing it.
The thought of Paige made his heart pound. The memory of those sleazy comments spewing out of Asquith, the supposed crème de la crème of society, triggered a fresh spurt of aggression. When the jerk had grabbed her wrist, it had cost all his willpower and then some to stop himself from knocking out the bastard. Taking a punch from the guy had been a relief because it had given him an excuse to hit back.
His business deal was deader than a dodo, but all he could think about was Paige and how shocked she’d been. In the face of Asquith’s smut, she’d put on a brave front. Now, as he stood in his big, silent house, he just wanted to see her again.
He strode out of the house before he could stop himself. This was insane, he told himself as he loped across the damp lawn. It was late. She must have gone to bed. He was the last person she wanted to see at this hour. But still he kept going, and when he rounded the rhododendron bushes and saw the light glowing in the cottage, anticipation pinched at his gut.
Sucking in a deep breath, he knocked gently on the door. “Paige? It’s Owen.”
A muffled sound came from inside. The bolt rattled as it slid back. The door opened a few inches, and Paige’s face, pale and free of makeup, appeared in the crack.
“Is—is something the matter?” Her expression was composed, but the redness tingeing her eyelids gave her away.
“I want to talk to you.” About what, he had no idea, but he had to get inside. “Can I come in?”
A look of confusion passed over her before she nodded and opened the door wider. “Yes, sure.”
He hadn’t been inside her cottage since the day he’d helped her
with the painting. The dingy little sitting room had been transformed into a bright, cheerful space. There were sunny yellow walls, gleaming white trim, wickerwork furniture with pink and yellow cushions. The screens he’d ordered fitted snugly over the windows. The tiny kitchen was done up in yellow and white, too, nothing too chintzy, just breezy and welcoming.
“Wow, this is amazing.” For the first time he realized how much effort she’d spent on the cottage even though she’d known she wouldn’t be there for long.
He glanced back at Paige and noticed she’d showered. A thick robe enveloped her, and her damp blond hair clung to her cheeks. She must have rushed back here and jumped into the shower.
“Asquith’s gone,” he said abruptly. “He won’t be coming back.”
Her chin wobbled. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip. “I—I’m sorry.”
He stared at her. “Why?”
“I ruined your deal.” She lifted her eyes to him, and the pain in them sliced through him. “All because of my stupid mistake.”
Dazed, he shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that scumbag sleazed all over you.” He flexed his hands, feeling helpless. “I’m sorry I didn’t lay him out instead of just slapping him.”
“So you’re not mad at me for torpedoing your deal?”
“Mad at you?” His mind went blank with astonishment. “No, course not.”
She hugged the robe closer to her. “Are you sure? Asquith isn’t someone you want for an enemy. He’s vindictive, and he has a memory like an elephant. He won’t forget in a hurry.”
He looked down at her slim bare feet. They looked pale and cold, and he thought about rubbing them. The idea set a buzz through his bloodstream.
“It’s too late now.”
“Oh, no.” She sank into the couch, still nibbling at her lower lip. “I know how much your project means to you…you know, for Jim and Heidi.”
He sat next to her on the narrow couch. All day he’d been walking on eggshells, but now for the first time he could breathe properly.
“Jim and Heidi will be disappointed, but they’ll understand when they learn the details.”
“Oh.” Her head whipped up. “You’re going to tell them everything?”
“Not everything, no,” he said quickly. “Just the gist of events.”
She frowned, her fingers worrying at her lower lip. “It’s ridiculous of me to care after so many people already know about the video.”
“You know what? I’m glad about that video.”
Her cheeks reddened. “Typical male. You’ve watched the video, haven’t you, even though you denied it.”
He held up his hands. “Why would I when I’ve already seen the real deal?”
Fierce eyes like lightning bolts narrowed at him. “Then why are you glad?”
“Because for once you let your hair down. You weren’t the frosty princess. You danced, you sang, you showed off your incredible body.” He grinned at her. “I only wish…”
Her elegantly arched eyebrows drew together. “What?”
He breathed in, his heart filling with her presence. It was midnight, and he was sitting with the one woman who’d plagued his sanity all these years. She’d snubbed him, lured him, hurt him, kissed him, betrayed him, helped him, and there was no one on the planet he’d rather be with. She was both his ruin and his salvation. He was in love with her. Had been ever since he was sixteen, but that had been a raw, immature feeling, not this rich, all-encompassing emotion that excited and scared him at the same time.
He swallowed hard. “I only wish it could have been me you danced naked for.” Lifting a finger, he smoothed a strand of hair clinging to her cheek, his hand not quite steady.
Her eyes became blank pools of gray. “Owen…” Her voice was a husky whisper filled with longing. “I wish it had been you, too.”
It took a few moments for her words to sink in. He sucked in a breath, and then another one, aware that everything was teetering on a knife-edge. He fought the hunger to gather her in his arms and lose himself in her kiss… The stakes were so much higher now. He hated bringing up her ex-husband, but he had to.
Instead of wrapping his arm around her waist like he wanted, he settled his hand on her shoulder. “Why did you marry Seth? Were you in love with him?”
She swallowed and lowered her eyes, and for a second he thought she might shrug off his hand, but she didn’t. “All my life my mother drummed into me how important it was to choose the right husband. She’d been dumped a few times before she met my father, you see. She always told me to pick someone…” Her face screwed up, self-deprecating. “Someone I could manage. Like my dad, I suppose. He stays in the background and pays the bills. So when I met Seth, he seemed ideal. He never minded me organizing our lives, he never had a wandering eye for other women, he had a good job. So when Seth got a transfer to London and wanted me to go with him, I said we had to make things official between us first.”
Owen couldn’t help snorting. “He didn’t propose? Wasn’t that a warning signal?”
Paige shrugged. “I didn’t care because all I could think about was the wedding. You know, I was just ten when my friends and I started planning our weddings. I had all these years of fantasies, and my mother was so caught up in it, too, and it became a whirlwind I couldn’t stop. I was so busy planning the perfect wedding I never stopped to consider if the groom was the right man for me.” She twisted the belt of her robe, her expression growing sad. “You asked if I was in love with Seth. Well, I don’t know what it is to be truly in love with someone, but I’m sure I never felt that for Seth.”
His heart thudded, heavy and painful, in his chest. Words spun through his head, none of them making any sense. Dammit, why wasn’t he better at talking? All he could do was squeeze her shoulder.
“I’ve always dated men like Seth,” she said. “Men I thought were ‘safe.’” She hesitated, winding the belt tighter around her fingers. “You—you were the only man who didn’t feel safe.”
He gaped at her. “Me? But…” He shook his head in bewilderment. “But I would never have forced you to…that’s ridiculous.”
“Oh, no, of course you wouldn’t have forced me.” She inhaled quickly. “I—you wouldn’t have had to force me because I was so keen to let you do whatever you wanted with me.” A slow flush moved up her neck and cheeks. “All those years ago, each time you kissed me, I went to pieces. I wanted you so, so badly, and that terrified me, that feeling of losing control, of being sucked into you like a whirlpool. Every time you touched me I lost a bit more of myself, and yet I couldn’t help going back for more. I was so frightened because—because I knew if we kept on kissing we’d end up in bed together.” She halted, her breathing unsteady, her face bright pink.
Finally, his mouth started to work. “So that’s why you went to the school dance with Eric.”
Her cheeks grew even redder. “That was a horrible thing to do to you. I was too cowardly to face you and break things off, so I used Eric.” She gulped again. “I never expected you to show up at the dance, and then when you got thrown out… I’m sorry for what happened.”
After all these years Paige Kerrigan was apologizing to him. He’d never expected her to do so, but it gave him no pleasure.
“No, I was to blame, too.” Old memories rushed through him, but their familiar bitterness didn’t sting so much now, because of what Paige had just confessed. “I chose to gate-crash the dance. I behaved like a jerk in front of all your friends. Yes, you drove me crazy, but I was the one who decided to act crazy.”
Her lips curled in a wobbly smile. “For someone who didn’t talk much, you sure knew how to act crazy.”
And now he was on the brink of acting crazy all over again. He slid his hand up beneath her hair to cup the back of her neck. Her smooth nape rested in his palm as if made for it. “Speaking of crazy…it’s nice to talk about the past, but there’s still some unfinished business between us.”
The gray of her eyes dee
pened as her pupils dilated. He felt a quiver shaft through her, felt her heat rise, felt his own rocket in response. He’d never wanted her as badly as tonight, and he didn’t care whether it was slow or fast or upside-down as long as he was with her.
“Unfinished business?” she said slowly, a tiny giveaway pulse beating fast at the base of her throat. “Well, we can’t have that. I’ve never liked loose ends.”
The sudden fever in her eyes took his breath away. Gently he cupped her cheek with his free hand, leaned in, and gave himself up to the pleasure of kissing her. Sighing, she nestled closer into him, twisting her body, shaping her lips to his. The magic of her mouth drew him in like always. He bent over and pushed her against the couch, their kissing quickly becoming hot and heavy. How the hell had he ever thought he could make love to Paige any way but this—intense, fiery, ravenous. She wasn’t milk and white bread at breakfast. She was tequila and pepper at midnight. She was burning ice in the middle of the desert. She was blood and sweat and tears and everything that made life worth living.
He scooped her up in his arms and lifted her from the couch. She let out a small gasp, flushed lips parted, eyes like moonshine on the sea.
“Owen.” A note of urgency sounded in her voice. “This—this doesn’t…”
This doesn’t change anything between us. He read her mind like an open book. Her unspoken words should have hurt him, and maybe they would sting in the morning, but right now he felt invincible. Nothing could touch him. And nothing was going to stop him from making love to Paige all night long.
“I know. Don’t worry.” He hitched her more firmly in his arms. “This is just unfinished business, right?”
Her arms crept around his neck. Her fingers threaded through his hair, light and caressing, and the sweetness of her touch made him shudder.
“Yes,” she whispered.
…
Hazy sunlight, soft sheets, and a warm, masculine body beside her—Paige woke up in bliss. As the familiar surrounds of her small bedroom came into focus, the unfamiliar sensation of Owen taking up all the space in her bed burst to the fore. His limbs were tangled intimately with hers, his face buried in the back of her neck, one arm across her body, hand splayed possessively over her thigh.
