Win My Love (Love's Second Chance Book 3)

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Win My Love (Love's Second Chance Book 3) Page 7

by Scott,Scarlett


  Her mother had taken Paige to the movies to allow Wynne to wind down after all her Valentine’s Day-induced stress. As a result, Wynne had a blessedly free two hours to herself.

  She took a deep breath and knocked at the door, hoping he wouldn’t get the wrong idea about her showing up here. She was really only doing this to prove to him she had rethought for her own reasons, not for any of his. Wasn’t she?

  When he didn’t open the door, she knocked again, a bit more firmly this time. The door swung open, but it wasn’t Derek on the other side. It was Trina Wade. A scantily clad Trina Wade, presumably naked beneath her skimpy red satin robe. Wynne’s first thought was that Trina was even more beautiful in person than she was onscreen. Wynne had seen her before, during the filming of Stealing Annabelle, but only from a distance. She was a little shorter than Wynne, with long, glossy blonde hair, startling blue eyes and plump red lips. She and Derek had made a perfect couple, both golden and gorgeous, impossibly perfect together in the magazines Wynne had glanced through over the years. Wynne was no comparison.

  She felt ridiculous for even being attracted to Derek. The woman before her was in another league entirely. Possibly even another galaxy. And she was currently in Derek’s hotel room, wearing nothing but a robe and pink toenail polish. Wynne felt suddenly indignant.

  Wait a second.

  Hadn’t Derek been the one coming on to her just this morning? Hadn’t he told her how attracted he was to her, how luscious her legs were, how he was almost divorced? He’d shrugged off Trina every time Wynne mentioned her, and now he was sleeping with the woman? Just like that?

  “Well.” Trina flashed her an insincere smile. “This certainly isn’t the Four Seasons, is it? First, there’s no doorman, then no bellhop. I’d like some champagne.”

  Wynne blinked. “What?”

  “Champagne,” Trina enunciated. “A bottle of it. No, two. Your best, as good as that may be. Please tell me you can get Dom here, at the very least.”

  “I’m not room service,” Wynne ground out, finally realizing the conclusion Trina had drawn. She glanced down at herself. She was casually dressed, but she certainly wasn’t wearing the uniform worn by the hotel employees. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to get your champagne elsewhere. Between you and me, I don’t think there’s even room service here.”

  “No room service?” Trina looked perfectly horrified.

  “None,” Wynne said, knowing she shouldn’t be getting as much enjoyment out of this as she was. Imagine that. Miss High-and-Mighty would have to run her own errands for a change.

  “I’ll get my personal assistant to do it then,” Trina grumbled, ruining Wynne’s triumph. Her gaze narrowed on Wynne, as though realizing she was a person for the first time. “Who are you, anyway? Fan? Paparazzi? One of those tabloid reporters? If you are, you’ll have to talk to my personal assistant and set up an interview. I only do scheduled appointments.”

  She began closing the door, but Wynne put out her hand, stopping her from closing it. “Wait. I’m not a reporter, either. I’m here to see Derek.”

  Trina gave her a look from head to toes, frowning. “He’s in bed. Worn out, if you know what I mean. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

  In bed, worn out? The bastard.

  “I want to see him now,” Wynne countered. She’d be damned if she was going to let him loll around in bed with his almost-ex-wife.

  Trina’s smile turned feral. “You can’t.”

  “Why not?” Wynne was beginning to get suspicious. Why hadn’t he mentioned his ex was in town? More importantly, why wouldn’t said ex let Wynne see Derek?

  “Because he’s resting. Get out of here before I call security,” Trina snapped.

  Wynne bit her lip to keep from saying she also doubted there was security—which she did—but still refused to budge. “I’m the mother of his daughter. I don’t think he’ll mind my interrupting him.”

  “Ah.” Trina pursed her lips, giving Wynne a look undoubtedly reserved for the dog crap that found its way to the bottom of her shoe. “So you’re the mother of his supposed kid. You’re not as trashy as I expected.”

  “She’s not ‘supposed’ anything,” Wynne ground out.

  “Yes, well. DNA tests will tell.” Trina waved a dismissive hand. “This happens to everyone who’s anyone. What are you doing here, anyway?”

  “What are you doing here?” Wynne countered. “The last I heard, your divorce was almost finalized.”

  “He changed his mind. Leave or I’ll—”

  “Or you’ll what, Trina?”

  Derek’s drawl had Wynne spinning on her heel to find him behind her, fully clothed and not at all sleepy. Relief she had no right to feel washed over her. So he hadn’t been sleeping with Trina after all. From the fury on his face, she’d be willing to bet he hadn’t even realized she was here.

  “Baby,” Trina gushed, pushing past Wynne to launch herself at him. “I missed you so much!”

  Derek pulled away from Trina, setting her back on her feet. “Trina, what the hell are you doing in my hotel room?”

  “I am Mrs. Derek Shaw,” Trina replied airily. “When I reminded the lady at the desk of that, she was only too happy to give me another room key. The real question is what is she doing here?” She sent a pointed glance at Wynne.

  “Wynne has every right to be here,” Derek bit out. “More right than you, in fact. Let’s get out of the hallway before we attract a crowd.”

  Wynne tried to sneak away, but Derek’s hand shot out and trapped her wrist. “You too, Wynne.” His tone was grim.

  Feeling very uncomfortable, she followed Trina and Derek inside the hotel room. She didn’t really want to be around for the argument bound to ensue. Formality or no, Derek and Trina were still legally married, and she felt as if she were an intruder. She had no doubt Trina wasn’t exactly pleased to be airing their dirty laundry in front of Wynne.

  “Why does she have to be here, Derek?” Trina’s tone was petulant, confirming Wynne’s suspicions. “This is private.”

  “Because I want her here,” Derek said, clenching his jaw.

  The ridiculous thought struck her that he might actually view her as an ally in this. His gaze met hers, laden with an emotion she couldn’t define, and she knew she had to stay now, even if she didn’t want to.

  “Look, I came back here to mend our differences,” Trina said, reaching up to cup his face.

  He shrugged away from her touch. “We have more than just differences between us. You know as well as I do that our marriage has been over for a long time. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I want out.”

  “Derek—”

  “No.” Derek held up a hand. “I’m going to go back to the bedroom, pack some of my stuff, and I’m going to get another room for tonight. I want you out of here by tomorrow afternoon.”

  “There aren’t any other rooms,” Trina told him triumphantly. “My personal assistant got the last one.”

  “You can stay with me, Derek,” Wynne offered without thought, wanting to wipe the smirk from Trina’s face. It was more selfish than that, though. She also didn’t want Derek to be spending the night with that cloying octopus of a woman.

  His eyes glittered as they met hers. “Thanks, Wynne. I’ll pack a bag.”

  “No!” Trina clutched at his arm, looking desperate now. “Stay here with me. We’ll go down to the bar, have a drink or two, and catch up all night.”

  Derek’s face became impassive. “I don’t drink anymore.”

  With that, he spun on his heel and disappeared around the corner, presumably to pack his bag. Wynne remained silent, inwardly condemning Trina for such an insensitive suggestion. Who would offer drinks to a recovering alcoholic? Certainly not someone who cared for him.

  “I suppose you think you’ve won,” Trina said, turning on her. “But he’ll get tired of you just like he did all the other ones. You didn’t really think you were special, did you? I was the only one he ever c
ommitted to, the only one he ever loved.”

  Wynne shrugged. “Maybe so.”

  “You’re so smug, aren’t you?” Trina sneered. “You don’t know what he’s really like. You just know Derek the movie star. But there’s so much more to him than that. There are blackouts and women and pills. You have no idea.”

  Her words affected Wynne, but she maintained a calm façade. She would not allow Trina to think her barb had found its mark. “I know he’s a good man and a good father, and that’s enough for me,” Wynne returned coolly. “Frankly, if you think so little of him, I’m amazed you’d want to take him back.”

  That shocked Trina into silence as Derek rounded the corner, bag in hand. He strode past Trina without bothering to even glance her way, and put his hand on the small of Wynne’s back, pushing her toward the door.

  “I want you out by tomorrow afternoon,” he called over his shoulder.

  A jumble of emotions assailed Wynne as she and Derek walked together out of the back entrance to the Grand Hotel, most of them confusing. She knew she shouldn’t be relieved Derek had chosen to leave with her, or vindicated, or anything else.

  But she was.

  And she knew she shouldn’t feel smug that Derek clearly disliked Trina so strongly he refused to stay in the same room with her.

  But she did.

  Derek’s hand remained on the small of her back, a gentle, reassuring pressure she shouldn’t like. She turned to glance at him. The dim street lamps lit his profile, his jaw rigid. Wynne had never seen him so tense. He seemed almost oblivious to her presence, caught up in the power of his thoughts. She doubted he even realized he was touching her, which was quite deflating since she could barely think about anything else.

  “I’m sorry,” Derek bit out finally. “That was—”

  “Uncomfortable?”

  “Yeah.” Instead of removing his hand, he asserted more pressure, drawing her closer to his lean body. “Damn it. I didn’t expect her to be in my room. I don’t even know why the hell she’s here.”

  “It seems like she wants you back.” She tried to remain unaffected by the heat of his body radiating into hers.

  Derek let out a bitter laugh. “She doesn’t want me. That much I know. Trina made it more than clear that she has no place in her life for a fuck-up like me. In exactly those words.”

  “You’re not a fuck-up.” He refused to look at her, so she stopped and pulled at the lapels of his jacket. “Look at me. You’re a good man, and you’ve turned out to be a wonderful father.”

  Derek shook his head, giving her a derisive smile. “Give me enough time and I’ll prove you wrong. Trina knows that better than anyone else. She knows just how worthless I am.”

  “Don’t let her tell you who you are. Derek, you’re so much more than you give yourself credit for, and I wish you could see that.” She had only witnessed a tiny snapshot of the relationship and life Derek and Trina must have had together, but it was enough for her to realize their relationship wasn’t healthy. Derek hid his inner vulnerability well beneath his debonair movie-star façade, but the mask had slipped tonight and Wynne was beginning to see the man inside. The man who had been driven to drink over and over again. The man who felt worthless.

  “You’re wrong.” He turned away to stride ahead.

  She wasn’t wrong, and she knew it. She followed him, keeping her silence. His mood had become volatile as a result of his run-in with Trina and she didn’t want to push him too far. Derek had already proven himself a good man in the month she’d known him. After finding out about Paige, he could have given her a financial settlement and left for LA like most wealthy men in his place undoubtedly would. Instead, he had stayed, taking care of Paige every day while Wynne was at work, easily taking the place of Wynne’s retired mother, who ordinarily watched her. Derek was an amazing father. He’d fallen into the role naturally. She truly believed he was in the process of turning his life around. He was careful to maintain his sobriety. He seemed stable. Everything a father should be. Everything a man should be.

  He stopped when he reached the front door to her shop and Wynne caught up to him. She rummaged through her purse for her keys.

  “I’m sorry,” Derek said again as she inserted the key into the lock. “There.” He let out a small laugh. “I’ve apologized twice in ten minutes.”

  “It’s okay.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “I know she upsets you.”

  “That’s one hell of an understatement.”

  They walked into the darkened shop together, shucking their jackets. Wynne flicked on a light switch before closing the door and locking it behind them. Derek’s gaze burned into her. She could still sense the emotions churning within him. She wanted to calm him, to reassure him, but she didn’t quite know how.

  “I shouldn’t let her get under my skin.” He raked his fingers through his hair, leaving the golden strands spiking into the air. “I just can’t believe she had the nerve to show up in my hotel room like she belongs there.”

  “You didn’t have any idea she was coming?”

  “Hell no.” Derek grimaced. “Do you think I’d want her here? The only thing I want from Trina is signed divorce papers.”

  “It doesn’t look like she’s ready to give them to you.” Wynne’s tone was wry. “In fact, I think you’re in for a fight.”

  He shook his head. “I never would have married her if I had known how it would all turn out.”

  “How long has it been like this between you two?” Wynne couldn’t help asking, even if she knew she was prying.

  “It feels like forever.” Derek ran a hand over his face in a weary gesture. “Things were always bad, right from the start. With all the movies we were filming, we were lucky if we saw each other two months in the first year. After that, my addictions got even worse. We were separated, living different lives but still a happy couple as far as the press knew. It’s amazing what a good PR team can do. A year ago, I went into rehab and when I got out, instead of picking me up, she called me to tell me she’d moved on with Billy Dillane.”

  Although Derek said the words with little inflection, Wynne sensed the hurt lying just beneath the surface. She felt guilty for ever thinking Derek had cheated on Trina and that was the reason for their breakup. At a time when he had likely been his most vulnerable, most in need of her support, Trina had deserted him.

  “Derek,” she said, reaching out and putting her hand on his arm. Their gazes clashed and she felt the familiar jolt race through her.

  His hand closed over hers, pinning it to his sleeve. Warm tingles spread up her arm. “Don’t pity me. I can’t take that.”

  Pity was the last thing she was feeling at the moment, though she had been feeling more than just a twinge of it seconds ago. Now the only thing she could feel was his hand on hers and the wave of desire washing over her. Trying to escape the spell, she tugged her hand from his grasp.

  “If she’s with Billy Dillane, why does she want you back?” She was annoyed to hear her voice was breathless again.

  A smile kicked the corner of his mouth up. “You really don’t pay attention to Hollywood gossip, do you?”

  “Should I?”

  “No.” He laughed. “Hell no. Stay just the way you are. I’m amazed, that’s all. To answer your question, she had a miscarriage and then Dillane dumped her. She’s on the rebound and she’s aiming for me because I’m the easiest target. We were a power couple and there’s big money in that machine. She wants it back.”

  Wynne didn’t like to think of him as Trina Wade’s target. As loathsome as the woman was, she was still gorgeous, still a temptation.

  His smile deepened as he considered her. “What were you doing at my hotel room tonight?”

  Oh, that. She’d lost sight of her original mission for the night in all the excitement.

  “I wanted to tell you I’m going to cancel the date,” she said, feeling suddenly uncomfortable.

  He stilled, his gaze inscrutable. “Why?”
>
  “Well,” she began, tucking a stray tendril of hair behind her ear and striving for a nonchalant tone as she embellished the truth, “I’m afraid it might be confusing for Paige since she’s just getting accustomed to having you in her life.” She was about to continue, but then thought better of it.

  He seemed to sense the “and” underlying her words. “What’s the other reason?”

  “I don’t want to give him the wrong impression,” she admitted quietly.

  “So you’re not interested in dating other men?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t need to.” He sauntered closer to her.

  It was a scene that had played between them half a dozen times before. Derek moved closer, Wynne lost all control of her ability to resist him, and just before their lips met, an interruption. But this time, there was no interruption. Paige was still with Wynne’s mother, and there was nothing to stop the moment before it became too heated. Unless Wynne pushed away from him, held him at a distance, she would wind up in Derek’s arms. She knew from experience that once she ended up in his arms, there was no turning back, no sanity intruding.

  “Wynne,” Derek whispered, sliding his arms around her.

  His cock pressed against her. Memories of that night, of how it had felt to be in his arms, in his bed, hit her. She cupped his face. A slight, golden stubble covered his strong jaw, abrading her fingertips. Their eyes locked and Wynne read the hunger in Derek’s gaze, knew it mirrored hers. He bent his head, brushed his lips against hers in a tantalizingly light caress.

  Finally.

  But Wynne was frustrated. She didn’t want soft kisses teasing her lips. She wanted hard, satisfying kisses that branded her soul, as his kisses had done five years before. She tugged him toward her but he resisted, looking down, his gaze intense.

  “Do you want me, Wynne?”

  Wynne stared. Their mouths were perilously close again. She couldn’t think, could barely breathe. “Yes,” she whispered, even though she knew the admission would prove both foolish and costly.

  “Good.” Wasting no time on further conversation, Derek pulled her more tightly into his body and claimed her lips with his.

 

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