by Opal Carew
In truth, if she could choose any man in the entire world to be her first, it would be him. But now, in this situation …
Oh, God, could she go through with this?
She gazed up at him. “So what now?”
Was he going to lead her into his bedroom and … carry on? The thought both excited and terrified her.
He sighed as he stared at her with his serious blue eyes.
“Dana, I didn’t bring you here to follow through on the agreement.”
She blinked at him in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I’m going to give you the money you need for your education. No strings. Nothing required of you.”
“Why?”
“Because I care about you. Because I want to help.”
She shook her head. “But you can’t just give it to me.”
“Of course I can.”
She stood up and paced. This couldn’t be happening. She wanted the money. Desperately. But she refused to take handouts.
“If you’re having trouble with the idea of me giving you the money, I could make it a loan.”
She bit her lip.
Oh, God, it was a lot of money. When she’d thought she’d be earning it, it had meant she could go to Paris without a huge loan weighing on her, but if he loaned her the money … Sure she would pay it back, but … who was she kidding? She had no idea what kind of job she could get with a degree in poetry. And that was a lot of money.
She wanted him to give it to her. But she couldn’t accept it. Anger sluiced through her. If he had stayed out of it, then another man would have bought her contract and she wouldn’t be faced with this dilemma. In fact, she’d probably be stretched out on the guy’s bed right now, already finished.
A cold depression wafted over her.
Damn. She was so confused. She glanced at him and he just watched her as she paced.
Her stomach tightened and she stopped moving. “I can’t. I just…” Her mind was a whirl of tumultuous thoughts and bewildering feelings. She rested her hands on the sides of her head, feeling like it was about to explode. “I need to think.”
But she felt mired in the heavy weight of her thoughts.
“Dana, just relax. Sit here beside me and we’ll talk it through.”
He patted the cushion beside him and her head shook back and forth of its own accord. His familiar words didn’t comfort her. So often he’d said them and helped her work through her problems. But she couldn’t be that close to him. Not after that devastating kiss.
She backed away. “No, I can’t…” Her gaze darted around the room. “Not here. Not with you.”
She bolted for the door.
* * *
When Dana got home, she avoided Elli’s persistent questions, closing her door and hiding out in her room. Then she tossed and turned all night.
Seeing Mason had stirred up so many things inside her, not the least of which was a massive longing to succumb to her desire for him. Although she’d been shocked at the idea of having him take her virginity after he’d bought the right through a service, she had always dreamed of him taking her in his arms and kissing her passionately, then proceeding to do exactly that.
But that was in her dreams, not in reality.
What he had said was true, though. They weren’t really related. That meant that there was no real reason that they couldn’t become intimate. Except for social convention, but that concern had gone out the window when she’d decided to sell her virginity online.
She rolled over and stared at the window. Moonlight streamed in and washed the room in soft light.
The fact that he’d wanted to protect her, and to help her by giving her money for her education, made her feel cared for. She couldn’t accept it, but that didn’t make it any less appealing that he wanted to help her.
She was so confused. He’d always been so good to her, and so good for her. He’d looked out for her and had seemed to really care about her. Then one day, he’d simply walked out of her life. And at a time when the situation was pretty bad between their parents. She’d never felt so alone. Or so abandoned. And that was saying a lot.
Her heart ached. She’d always wondered if she had done something to drive him away.
She had been pretty needy, consuming as much of his time as he would allow, and along the way, she’d done a couple of things that were maybe a bit … off, from his point of view. Like that time she’d kissed him. And the things he hadn’t known about. At least, she hoped he hadn’t.
And then there’d been prom night. Her cheeks flushed at that memory.
Her hand ran over her jeans, resting over where the tattoo was. Oh, God, she could never let him see that.
But now he was back in her life and seemed to truly want to help her.
She had no idea what to do.
* * *
Ten Years Earlier
Dana blinked at the stunning figure standing in the doorway. He was the type of man made for a designer suit. She was only sixteen, but she could tell that the expert cut of his tailored jacket accentuated every plane of his broad-shouldered, trim-waisted torso. The fine wool looked touchably soft yet crisp, giving the garment a professional, elegant look. She wanted to run her hand along his lapel, and not just to feel the fabric. Her insides quivered at the thought of touching this perfect, sexy man.
His chestnut hair was cropped short, but not so short as to do away with its soft waves. And his eyes. God, his blue-green eyes—almost teal, in fact—were breathtaking. A clear color that reminded her of the ocean, with darker rings around the pupil, giving them definition.
His jaw, square and masculine, was shaded with coarse whiskers that made her want to stroke it to feel the raspy texture.
“Are you … um…” She felt intimidated by the closeness of his big body, his teal eyes studying her. “Are you my stepfather?”
He seemed too young, even for her mother, but he did bear a striking resemblance to the portrait hanging in the dining room.
He laughed—a deep, rumbling sound that she instantly liked.
“No, I’m his son. Mason.” He offered his hand. “Which makes me your stepbrother.”
She placed her hand in his. His big fingers closed around her small hand and her breath caught at the heat washing through her.
God, her stepbrother. She thought she’d faint.
He shook her hand, then released it. He leaned against the doorjamb, peering into her room.
“So you’re settled in.”
She nodded.
“Kind of stuffy décor for a teenager. If you like, I’ll see if we can get it redecorated for you.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to be any trouble.”
He grinned and her heart skipped a beat. “Dana, you live here now. This is your home. Your room should reflect you.”
She just nodded, not wanting to argue with anything he said.
She wanted him to come in. She wanted him to … Oh, God, she didn’t know what she wanted him to do, but some deep, unnamable need filled her with yearning.
“I have an idea,” he said. “It’s Friday night and I’d love to just kick back and relax. How about pizza and a movie?”
“You mean, you and me?” she asked, wide-eyed.
“Yeah, sure. Why not?” He glanced down at his attire. “Don’t worry, I’ll change. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you.”
She shook her head. “Oh, no. You couldn’t.” She was stuttering like a child and her cheeks burned, but he chose not to notice.
In the end, they decided to order pizza in. When he returned in his jeans and soft, cotton button-up shirt, he looked every bit as devastating as he had in the suit. Instead of eating in the stuffy dining room, he invited her to his quarters—right next to hers—and they ate from the box, with cans of soda from his bar fridge. He asked her all kinds of things about herself—what she was studying at school, her favorite bands, her interests, and what her dreams and aspirations were. If this was what it wa
s like to have a brother, she wished she’d had one sooner. More so, though, she wished he were her boyfriend. He was older—he had to be twenty-six or seven—but she longed for him to take her in his arms and kiss her.
But she quelled those disturbing longings. At least, she did her best to.
After the pizza, they watched an action movie together. But it had been a long week and, despite the explosions and fast-paced car chases, she dozed off. When she awoke, instead of finding herself leaning against Mason’s big, solid body, she was stretched out on the sofa, and he was sitting in the armchair next to the couch, still watching the movie.
“Oh,” she said sleepily, as she pushed herself back to a sitting position. “I … uh … didn’t mean to … um … hog the sofa.”
“Don’t worry about it. You were tired. I thought you’d be more comfortable with the couch all to yourself.”
She flushed as she realized she’d probably snuggled against him and it had made him uncomfortable. How embarrassing. He must see her as some silly little teenager and could probably tell that she was crushing on him like crazy.
Yet he was so nice about it. Not making her feel stupid. Putting up with her immaturity.
“I guess I should go to bed.” She stood up and headed out of his quarters, then practically ran to hers and closed the door behind her. Once she was in bed, images of his big, masculine body and his handsome, smiling face, haunted her dreams, making her want things she knew she shouldn’t want.
* * *
As much as Dana was embarrassed by what had happened, she couldn’t stay away from Mason. They ate breakfast together every morning and he dropped her at school on his way to work. The limo driver picked her up after, but Mason joined her for dinner every night. Even when he had to stay late at the office, he called and had the cook delay dinner so he could eat with Dana.
At night, when she lay alone in her room, she felt so lonely she could die. Mason made a point of spending time with her in the evenings when he could, but sometimes he had to work late. He told her she could interrupt him any time she wanted or needed someone to talk to—he worked in the office in his quarters in the evenings—but she didn’t like to disturb him just because she was feeling lonely.
Even at the young age of twenty-six, he ran his own company. Apparently his mother had recognized his business acumen and given him money to start his own business when he’d been just eighteen.
Dana did go out with her friends sometimes, but when she’d done that pre-Mason, there’d been no clear time when she had to be home. The driver seemed to be on call twenty-four-seven, so she’d sometimes roll in at three in the morning. Not because she liked to be out that late—she’d always suffer at school the next day—but just because she wanted to see if she could. When no one seemed to care, she found it … disturbing. If she stayed out all night, she wondered whether anyone would even notice. And if something happened to her, would anyone know?
Now that Mason was here, he set a curfew for her. Not an unreasonable one, and he’d listen to her arguments for extending it. If she made a good case, he’d grant it. Her mother always seemed so inconsistent about whether she’d let her stay out or not. Sometimes a curfew was imposed and it was sacrosanct, never to be questioned. Other times, like recently, she didn’t even notice that Dana was gone. Mason was so much easier to deal with and she felt that the rules he made were for her own good, not just to exercise authority like her mother did.
One night, a few weeks after she’d moved in, she awoke from a bad dream. She couldn’t remember the exact details of the dream, but the shadows on the walls from the bushes swaying in the wind outside, and the small creaking sounds—probably the house settling as her mother always said—had her clinging to the covers and pulling them close to her face.
She lay there, trying to go back to sleep, but terror rose in her. Finally, she pushed back the covers and tiptoed from her room. She knew the combination to Mason’s quarters—he’d told her in case there was an emergency in the middle of the night—so she tapped it into the lock. She pushed open the door and tiptoed into the living area. His quarters, unlike hers, were open-concept, with the living room, dining room, office, kitchen, and bedroom all open and visible to each other (though the kitchen did have a counter with bar stools that blocked any dirty dishes that might be in the sink). Although Mason kept the place spotless, not leaving it to the servants to clean up after him.
She gazed across the large quarters and saw Mason asleep in his bed. She didn’t know why she’d come here or what she intended to do now. She would love to climb into bed with him and snuggle against his big, solid body. If she woke him up and explained that she’d had a bad dream, he would probably take her in his arms and hold her, comforting her. Maybe even brush his lips against her forehead. Maybe that would lead to a real kiss, and then …
Oh, God, that wouldn’t happen. It could never happen. Not because she would stop him. No way. But because she knew in her heart that he wouldn’t let it.
So if she woke him, he would comfort her. She was sure of that. But then he’d send her back to her own room to sleep.
And she didn’t want that. She wanted to be near him.
So she grabbed the soft, cashmere throw draped over the back of his couch, lay down, and covered herself with it. The couch faced away from the bed, so he wouldn’t see her if he woke up, but she could hear the soft sound of his breathing and that was comforting. She knew he woke up at seven-thirty, so she set the alarm on her phone for seven, on vibrate. Then she let the sound of his breathing lull her to sleep.
In the morning, she awoke from the vibrating of her phone and sneaked back to her room. When she and Mason met for breakfast, he seemed to be none the wiser. Since it worked the first night, she decided to do it again the next night. And the next. Soon, it became an addiction.
* * *
Weeks went by and she and Mason grew closer. The days went by in a wild haze of happiness. Mason came home every night and spent time with her, making her feel important and … well, loved. He was like a real older brother, someone who genuinely cared about her.
What she longed for was for him to be her boyfriend. For them to go out on dates and hold hands. For him to cuddle her and … kiss her. Her heart stuttered at the very thought.
But he was her stepbrother and he looked out for her. That was enough for now.
And all of her friends were blown away by how totally dreamy her stepbrother was. It was especially cool when, one night, he picked her up in his black Jag instead of the limo. All the girls watched her climb into the sporty car with the exceptionally handsome man wearing designer aviator sunglasses, and nearly swooned. She simply smiled and enjoyed the wind in her hair as they drove along the highway with the top down.
Life couldn’t be better.
Mason pulled into the huge garage beside their mansion and parked his Jag, then opened her door. She followed him past the vintage cars to the entryway to the house and inside.
“Good evening, sir. Will you be dining this evening?” the butler asked.
“No, James. Dana and I will be having Chinese.”
“We will?” Dana asked, hot on his heels.
She followed him up the stairs to his suite and then inside. He pulled a bag from his jacket pocket and waved it in front of her.
“You remember that video game you’ve been waiting for?”
Her eyes widened, but she knew it couldn’t be the game inside. “Yeah, it comes out in two weeks, three days, and five hours.”
“Well, I happen to have some connections and I was able to score an early copy.”
“No way!” She snatched the bag from his hand and peered inside. “Oh, my God. You did!”
She laughed and raced to her room to change, not letting go of the disc package, then she raced back in her jeans and cotton sweater. She popped the disc into the game unit as he finished ordering Chinese food. They played until the food arrived, and then they played after they’d fini
shed eating.
Finally, at eleven o’clock, he leaned back. “Okay, it’s eleven. We both have to get some sleep.”
She grinned. “I can do with only a few hours.”
He laughed. “Yeah, well I’m older and more decrepit. I need my eight hours, so out.”
She pouted. “But you have the game unit.” Then she grinned. “I could put on my headphones, so you wouldn’t hear a thing, and keep playing.”
“Okay, you. Out,” he said, pointing to the door.
She pushed herself to her feet and walked to the unit, then ejected the disc. He raised an eyebrow.
“You don’t think I’m leaving it here so you can practice without me, do you?”
He laughed. “Good night, Dana.”
She placed the disc carefully in its case and closed it, then gazed at him. He was so good to her.
She ran to him and threw her arms around him. “Thank you so much for getting the game for me.”
He did so many thoughtful things for her and, well, she loved having someone who actually cared about her and what she wanted.
“I’ve never had anyone…” She squeezed him tighter and his arms came around her to return the hug. “No one’s really cared about me like you do. I mean, except my dad, but I hardly ever see him.”
He patted her back and she ached at the comforting feeling he gave her.
And more. His body was strong and masculine and the feel of it against her triggered a deep yearning inside of her.
Finally, he loosened his arms around her. “Dana, you really need to go.”
His voice was low and … she could almost believe she was affecting him … in that way. But he released her and stepped back and she knew it was just wishful thinking on her part.
“Thanks again,” she said timidly.
He smiled, setting his handsome face aglow. “You’re welcome. Now go.”
She left his suite, the game clutched tightly in her hand, and headed back to her room, where she changed into her pajamas. She waited for about an hour and then sneaked back into his room. Closing the door quietly, she tiptoed to the couch and settled onto it, her phone alarm set as usual.
