A Dangerously Sexy Secret

by Stefanie London

  “She’ll leave you,” Wren said, blinking through her blurry vision. “She’ll realize she doesn’t have to take this shit from you and she’ll leave.”

  “No, she won’t. I’ve got her locked up now and I’m throwing away the key.” The grin on his face was bordering on manic. “I made sure to do that after you got into her ear last time. So you can blame yourself for that one.”

  A sob wrenched out of her. “You’re a monster.”

  “It’s just business. Her paintings are going to make me rich.”

  At that moment footsteps sounded beside them and Sean released Wren so quickly her knees buckled and she dropped to the ground. Her arm throbbed as the blood started moving through it again.

  “What the fu—”

  “Keep your hands to yourself.”

  Wren looked up to see Jin pointing a gun straight at Ainslie. He stood over her, giving her a chance to stand up and scoot behind him.

  “You okay, Wren?” Jin asked.

  She nodded and Sean fumed at the both of them. “Get the fuck off my property. Now.”

  “You realize you’ve just admitted to holding someone against their will?” Jin said. “I thought you were despicable, but that takes the cake.”

  “We have to find her,” Wren said, wrapping her arms around herself.

  “We will. But first we’re going to wait here until the NYPD arrives.”

  * * *

  RHYS PACED THE length of his apartment, waiting for the Cobalt & Dane team to wrap up with Wren across the hall. Tonight they’d be putting her up in a hotel to make sure that she was safe—just in case Sean’s father managed to get him out of holding.

  Watching her go toe-to-toe with Sean had been one of the toughest things he’d ever done in his life. All he’d wanted to do was go to her, to step in front of her and protect her from that asshole. He’d wanted to dry the tears that had rolled down her cheeks once she’d finally gotten out of the gallery. Anything to make her feel better. Anything to make up for acting like a jerk when she’d volunteered to help take that bastard down.

  All he could do now was hope that she’d hear him out when he told her how he felt.

  After Ainslie had admitted to kidnapping Aimee, things had moved swiftly. Owen had called the police. Jin had an old buddy from his days with the NYPD who worked in the special victim’s unit. They’d jumped on the case and had thankfully found Aimee within hours.

  She’d seemed unharmed, but they’d admitted her to the hospital, anyway. She was in good hands now. As for Sean, he’d been taken into custody and would likely be charged with a slew of things, including kidnapping and assault.

  Voices floated in from the hallway and Rhys recognized the calming tones of one of the counselors Cobalt & Dane regularly contracted. When the sounds faded to silence, he made his way to the front door. Owen had promised Rhys he could escort Wren to the hotel so long as he called the office as soon as Wren was checked in. He wasn’t used to being micromanaged, but nothing could upset him now.

  Sean was in custody. Wren was safe.

  He walked over to Wren’s apartment and knocked. This was it, confession time. When she swung the door open, he was greeted with a sight that almost tore his heart in two. Wren’s face was swollen and puffy, and her cheeks were mottled with patches of pink and red.

  “Don’t stare at me like that,” she said, dropping her eyes to the floor. “I know I look hideous. I’m an ugly crier.”

  “You couldn’t be ugly if you tried, Wren.” He reached out and brushed his thumb along her cheek. “On the inside or the outside.”

  She held the door open for him, her eyes avoiding his. The second he stepped into her apartment he saw the small collection of boxes in the spot where her couch used to be. They were haphazardly stacked and didn’t appear to be labeled.

  “Heading home so soon?” he asked, fighting back the hurt that trickled through him like a toxin.

  “Kylie is coming to get me tomorrow. Owen said they’d need me to come back at some point to testify against Sean, but I could go and be with my family for now.” She drew her bottom lip between her teeth.

  The careful speech he’d planned—and practiced—seemed to evaporate on the spot. He wanted to be with her more than anything, but facing her rejection was tearing him apart. Suddenly he felt like that desperate kid he’d always been, the one who’d craved his mother’s attention. Who’d tried—and failed—to fit in with his new family. Who’d just wanted to be accepted.

  “Are you taking me to the hotel?” She wrapped her arms around herself.

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “But, uh...I wanted to talk to you about something first.”

  “Sure. I haven’t got anywhere for us to sit, though.” She looked around. “And everything is all packed up so I can’t make us coffee.”

  “I don’t need any of that.” He ran a hand over his hair and willed himself not to chicken out. “I wanted to apologize for the other day. I shouldn’t have said the things I did.”

  “It’s okay. I know I jump into some things headfirst.” A smile tugged at her lips. “You can add ‘impulsive’ to my list of undesirable traits along with messy and clumsy.”

  “Wren, nothing about you is undesirable. The truth is, I was scared shitless about you going in there today. But more than that...” His mouth was suddenly drier than desert air. “I was lashing out because I was hurt. I was hoping you’d want to stay with me, and when you said you were going home I threw it back in your face.”

  “The things you said weren’t exactly false. I do hide behind other people’s problems.” Her head bobbed. “I realized that today. I’ve spent so long ‘not being good enough’ that I felt like I needed to do things for people so they would like me.”

  “People like you for who you are, Wren. Not what you do for them.”

  “I understand that now. Kylie and Debbie will love me no matter what, and my parents still love me even though I might not be the successful child.”

  “What about me?” he asked, taking a step forward.

  “What about you?” Her face tilted up, eyes wide.

  The moment he reached for her hands he remembered all the things he wanted to say. “Do you know that I’ll love you no matter what? Do you know that I’ll do anything to be with you, Wren? I can’t let you go without laying it out.”

  “You love me?”

  “I do.” He pulled her closer and she curled into him, her head resting against his chest. “You make me feel...real. When you painted me, I was floored. No one has ever looked at me like that before.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Like they weren’t trying to figure something out. When I was growing up, a lot of people would compare me to Marc or Mom. They didn’t understand how I belonged, if I was adopted. If I was black or white. And then Mom didn’t really look at me at all.” He paused.

  “I just painted what I saw.”

  “I like seeing myself through your eyes.”

  “Did you just compliment yourself?” She raised a brow and he laughed.

  “I guess I did.”

  “Good. It’s about time.” Her fingers traced the buttons on his shirt. “You’re so hard on yourself, it must be exhausting.”

  “It really is.”

  As he cradled her, the silk of her hair was soft under his palm. He was braced for her rejection, but painful as it would be, he knew he’d never forgive himself if he hadn’t told her the truth.

  “I can’t figure out why someone like you would love someone like me,” she said quietly. “I don’t bring anything to the table. I barely function as an adult.”

  “You are an adult. Look at what you’ve done today—you do a lot of good, Wren. You’re fearless. The world needs more people as strong as you.”

  “I don’t
care what the world needs, Rhys. I only care what you need.”

  “You.” Rhys slid his hands up her neck and tangled them into her hair. “I need to wake up to your beautiful face every morning and see you looking at me like I matter. Like we matter.”

  “You’re not going to change your mind?”

  “No way. I’ve never needed anything more.” His lips came down to hers, soft at first and then hungry. Desperate.

  “I was going to come and see you before I went to the hotel.”

  “Really?” He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. “What was your plan?”

  “Silly, I don’t do plans.” She pressed her lips to his chest. “I had no idea what I was going to say. I just knew that I couldn’t leave without asking whether you regretted the way we ended things. Because I did. I regret it so much.”

  “You don’t have to regret it.” He lowered his forehead to hers. “Stay.”

  “Okay,” she breathed.

  “Okay?” He never would have believed that such a benign word would one day cause the best change in his life.

  “But first I need to go home and make sure Kylie and my family are okay after everything that’s happened. Then I’ll pack up my things and tell them that I’m moving here to be with the man I love.”

  “All right, but I’m coming with you.”

  “Deal.” A laugh bubbled up in her throat. “What am I going to do for work when I’m back in New York? What about our living arrangements?”

  “Listen to you with all those adult questions,” he teased, bringing his mouth down to hers. “I must be rubbing off on you.”

  “Don’t expect me to start a spreadsheet anytime soon.” She screwed up her nose.

  “So you love me, huh?”

  Wren’s eyes sparkled. “I do. You’re the most kindhearted, sexy, honest man I’ve ever met.”

  “Sexy, huh?” He wrapped his lips around her earlobe, heat surging through him when she moaned. “I like the sound of that.”

  “Well, we do have a hotel room at our disposal tonight.” She grinned. “I’m assuming they have a bed frame, too.”

  “Oh, and here I was getting used to sleeping on the ground.” He chuckled.

  “Really?”

  “No. It was awful.”

  She wrapped her arms around him and laughed. “See, didn’t I say you were honest?”

  Epilogue

  Six months later

  WREN TWISTED HER hands in front of her. Seeing her paintings up on a wall—knowing soon there would be people standing here, eyeing them critically—filled her with a strange mix of emotions. The art show was showcasing work from ten artists in total, all former employees—and victims—of Sean Ainslie.

  When she’d headed back to Charity Springs with Rhys in tow, Wren had needed something positive to keep her busy. She had her man by her side, which had made her feel like the luckiest girl in the world, but she knew deep down that there was one more thing she could do to help Kylie and the other women who’d been hurt by Sean.

  She straightened Rhys’s portrait. It’d felt right to include it in the show; after all, it was the painting that had brought her back to art. That had made her want to be creative again. Without that painting she might have given up altogether.

  But it wasn’t really the painting that had healed her wounds. It was him. His hands, his mouth, his arms.

  His love.

  She’d wanted to do the same for the other women. So, she’d come up with the idea of the show to support Sean’s victims, and hopefully to stop them from giving up their passion. To allow them to claim what was rightfully theirs.

  Kylie and Debbie had taken on the tasks of organizing a space and getting the word out. Wren had rounded up the other artists. A few had declined, determined to keep that part of their lives in the past. Which she definitely understood. But eight had said yes, with three more agreeing to come along and support the cause. Wren had decided to ask for a small donation upon entry, with the proceeds to be given to a local charity for abused women.

  “Everything looks amazing, Birdie,” Debbie said, her hand slipping into Wren’s. “This was such a wonderful idea.”

  “I hope it goes well. I don’t want to let these girls down.”

  “You won’t. Just the fact that you’re doing this means so much to them, and it means the world to Kylie.” Debbie rested her head on Wren’s shoulder. “I know Mom and Dad don’t always see why your art is important, but I do. You have a good soul and the way you share that is through your paintings. I’m so proud of you.”

  “Thank you.” Wren pulled Debbie into a hug.

  “Careful!” She touched a hand to her hair, laughing. “Do you know how much I paid for this blowout? Damn, Brooklyn is expensive. I have no idea how you’re going to be able to afford to live here.”

  “I don’t get blowouts at fancy salons, for one.” She drew a breath, the nerves prickling along her limbs, filling her with buzzing energy. “And I got lucky—a local community center hired me based on all the volunteer work I’d done back home. They’re not paying me a fortune, but it’s something.”

  “I don’t want to hear that you’re living on baked beans and toast, okay?”

  “So now you’re my nutritionist as well as my doctor?” She nudged her sister in the ribs.

  Having the support of her sister had made the move a lot easier. As for her parents...well, they loved her in spite of her impulsiveness, and that was all that mattered.

  She glanced over to where Rhys stood talking to one of the other artists. He looked so handsome tonight in his dark suit and crisp white shirt. It made his brown skin gleam and his eyes sparkle. If they weren’t at such an important event, she’d be dragging him out back so she could show him just how sexy he was. Just how much she loved him.

  The word made a lump form in her throat. For an artist, the idea of love shouldn’t be so scary, especially not when she’d survived having her work and reputation ripped apart by a whole town.

  But it was utterly terrifying in the best way possible.

  Earlier, she’d rounded up everyone involved in the show and they’d toasted with champagne to a successful evening. To triumph over horrible people and to never letting your dreams die. Seeing them all—especially Kylie—with smiles on their faces, nervously chatting and swapping stories about their art, warmed Wren.

  Aimee hadn’t been able to make it; she wasn’t out of the woods physically or emotionally enough to face the past. But she’d sent her love in the form of a huge bunch of flowers and a promise that they would talk soon.

  It was also great to see just how different everyone’s styles were. Kylie had her vegetables; Marguerite had the most beautiful garden landscapes. There were Fauvist birds, abstract flowers, Pop Art portraits. Then there were Wren’s nudes, alongside Rhys’s handsome face.

  From a distance Wren could see the monochrome style of her paintings—all earth and flesh tones. It had taken her a long time to cultivate a theme for her work, to get comfortable in the voice with which she painted. But the people viewing her work seemed to be enjoying it.

  “I can’t believe you put my ugly mug up there with all those beautiful women.” Rhys’s voice ran down the length of her spine, making her shiver.

  “I happen to think it’s quite an attractive mug,” she replied, turning to face him. “I wouldn’t have painted it otherwise.”

  This close, she could easily breathe in the smell of soap and a bare hint of cologne on his skin. She’d come to crave that smell because it was uniquel
y him.

  “This is an incredible thing that you’ve done, Wren. You’ve taken something ugly and transformed it into a thing of beauty.”

  “I know it won’t change what happened to these women, I know that they’ll always be affected by what he did to them. But if this helps them find the strength to keep going, then...that’s a good thing, right?”

  “Yeah, it’s a good thing.”

  The sound of conversation and clinking glasses filled the air. The gallery was getting full, and all Wren wanted was to have Rhys all to herself. They had a hotel room close to the gallery for the night, a treat that he’d insisted on.

  “I regret ever giving you a hard time for looking out for other people,” he said, his hand linking with hers. “You have such a kind soul. I really love that about you.”

  “Really? I thought you loved me for my brownies.” She sipped her champagne and looked up at him, a smile tugging on the corner of her lips.

  “Well, that too. Kindness and brownies, it’s a good combination.” He grinned. “In fact, it’s such a good combination that I want to make sure it’s part of my life forever.”

  “I’m not going anywhere...” Wren turned to give Rhys a playful shove when she noticed he’d dropped to one knee.

  He held a box out to her, the plush velvet insert cradling a single, sparkling diamond that captured every color of the rainbow in its fractured light. “Wren Livingston, you’re the best person I know. Your kindness and messiness is unsurpassable. I could not think of anything I want more than to spend the rest of my life living in your colorful, chaotic world.”

  “You do?”

  All eyes in the gallery were now on her, the anticipation palpable in the air. Given Rhys’s fear of rejection, his proposal was sweet on so many levels.

  “One hundred percent.”

  “Not a hundred and ten?” She couldn’t stop herself from laughing.

  “There is no more than one hundred percent.” He took the ring from the box and reached for her hand. The band was a perfect fit. “Will you marry me, Wren?”