Vows In Name Only (Mills & Boon Desire) (Billionaires of Boston, Book 1)

by Naima Simone

  “I know you’re already regretting having sex with me,” Devon said, her low, husky voice like a cannon blast in the silence of the car.

  He yanked his attention from the road and glanced at her. But Devon stared out the passenger-side window, giving him a view of the long, thick hair tumbling over her shoulders and back.

  “I just have one question for you,” she said.

  “What is it?” he asked, not denying her assertion that he regretted being with her.

  Material rustled, and when he shifted another look in her direction, she’d turned to face him. Shadows danced over her face, casting her in both darkness and the light from the streetlamps. But her careful, composed expression betrayed none of her thoughts.

  Resentment ignited inside his chest before he deliberately snuffed it out. A part of him wanted her to appear as agitated and unsettled as he felt.

  “You once listed the things I wouldn’t receive from you in this...arrangement. Fidelity was one of them. You would have sex with other women, but not with me.” She inhaled, and Cain fought the urge to wrap a hand around the nape of her neck, draw her close. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, the other hand on his thigh curling into a fist. “Tonight,” she continued, “was that about you using me to further stick it to my father? Do I need to prepare myself to have this thrown in his face—and mine—at some point? Because if so, I—”

  “Let’s get one thing straight, sweetheart,” he growled, cutting her off. “Your father uses women as pawns in his little games—I don’t. You were underneath me on that floor, Devon. You came for me. You. The only agenda I had tonight was getting as far deep inside you as I could, and that had nothing to do with your father.”

  A heartbeat of quiet passed, thunderous and heavy. And so dense with desire it pressed against his skin. His cock twitched against his thigh.

  Damn, this was his fault.

  He shouldn’t have mentioned her coming for him, because now he swore he could feel the phantom spasms of her slick flesh around him. The craving to have it again, to have her surrounding him, burned him.

  Hungering for his enemy’s daughter only spelled trouble. So no matter how hard his dick throbbed and complained, tonight had been the first and last time.

  “I believe you,” she murmured.

  He shot her a glare. “Then you’re a fool,” he snapped. Ignoring her sharp intake of breath, he pressed her. “You and I aren’t friends. We aren’t lovers. Tonight might not have been about your father but that doesn’t mean I won’t destroy him and fuck the casualties. Even if one of those casualties is you. Don’t believe me. Don’t trust me. Because I damn sure don’t trust you or Gregory.”

  He thrust his free hand through his hair, grinding his teeth together. Lie. The word whistled through his head. His father had been that ruthless. That coldhearted, to allow an innocent to be harmed in the course of business.

  All his life, Cain’s one goal hadn’t been to run Farrell International as its CEO. It had been to be nothing like Barron Farrell.

  But she isn’t innocent.

  Images of her in the garden, at the community center, of her crawling across that floor to hug him flickered across his mind like camera flashes. That Devon contradicted the woman he’d seen in her father’s living room, who’d stood silently as Cain challenged her to repudiate Gregory’s plans. To free them both. And she hadn’t. No, the last few hours proved that she desired him, but she obviously desired the Farrell name and connections more.

  Once, that knowledge had enraged him, hauling out the emotional baggage of his childhood.

  Now, though? Now he was just...tired.

  “I’m not naive, Cain,” she said, turning back to the window. He hated the even tone that betrayed none of the hurt he’d heard in that little gasp. “I trusted you with my body tonight, but nothing else. I’m not a fool now, but I was once upon a time. And thank you for the reminder of what could happen if I forget that.”

  What the hell are you talking about? Who were you a fool for? What happened to put that hollow note in your voice?

  The barrage of questions slammed a path toward his throat, clamoring to emerge and desperate for her answers. But he locked them down. He didn’t have the right to ask. But that didn’t prevent a dark, ugly emotion with claws from tearing at him.

  Jealousy.

  He didn’t even bother with the pretense of denying its existence. The snarling, green-eyed beast in him wanted, demanded she confess this other man’s name, the details of what he’d done...if she’d loved him.

  Dammit.

  He scrubbed a hand down his face, his five-o’clock shadow abrading his palm. He had no claims on her, regardless of the contract his father and Gregory had signed.

  He needed distance, space to get himself back in check. Under control. Yes, control was key. Not losing his temper with his father or betraying any of his hurt had become an art form for Cain. After years of practice, not losing it over a woman he’d known for a handful of weeks was child’s play.

  “Good,” he said, guiding his car down her quiet, dark street. “We’re in agreement, then. Tonight was a mistake. One we can’t repeat.”

  His life contained enough complications with brothers he barely knew, a company to run and an inheritance to lock down.

  And a mausoleum of a house to return to with only screaming childhood ghosts for company.

  No, he didn’t need anything else on his plate. Like an inappropriate and inconvenient fascination for a woman with eyes like emeralds, a Mona Lisa face and the curves of a goddess.

  “Of course,” Devon said. “Business as usual. We both know how good I am at following orders.”

  The comment referred to how she so easily conformed to her father’s dictates, but that’s not how his body interpreted it.

  Don’t stop.

  Breathe, sweetheart.

  Look at me and let go.

  She’d followed those orders so sweetly, too.

  Lust rippled through him when he remembered how he’d obeyed hers as well.

  Take it off.

  Her husky, sensual words echoed in his ears, and he steeled himself against the wave of need that crashed over him. Silently uttering a curse, he jerked the gearshift into Park and damn near bolted out of the car.

  Distance and space. Distance and space.

  The two words became his mantra as he rounded the car to open her door. But she’d already pushed it open and stepped out, heading for the front steps of the townhome.

  “You don’t need to walk me to the door,” she objected in that cool voice that set his teeth on edge. Even though it was what he needed to keep her in the neat box where he’d placed her.

  “I’m walking you to the door, Devon,” he ground out, his hand hovering over the small of her back. But after a moment, he lowered it. Better off not tempting fate by touching her at all. Not with their mingled scents still clinging to his skin. “You’re not some booty call that’s dropped off at the curb.”

  “I’m not a friend. I’m not a lover. And now I’m not a booty call,” she said, fishing her key out of her purse and sliding it into the slot. “I’m beginning to wonder who or what I am.” She grabbed the knob and twisted. Even as his mind ordered him to avoid putting his hands on her, he cupped her elbow, halting her.

  She didn’t turn around, and he didn’t force her to. Instead, he edged closer until his chest pressed to her back and his reawakened cock nudged the rise of her ass. He clenched his jaw against the pleasure and pain of the contact. Against the insatiable animal inside him that roared for more.

  He lowered his head. “You’re a beautiful, unwanted, sexy-as-fuck complication,” he growled.

  Then he stepped back. Away from temptation. Away from whatever pull she had on his will and his body.

  Away from her.

  Without lo
oking back, he strode down the steps and the front walk to his car. Once he was inside the safe confines of the vehicle, he glanced at Devon, standing in the doorway. Due to the distance and the shadows, he couldn’t decipher every feature of her face, couldn’t see her eyes. There was no possible way she could note his regard through the heavily tinted windows, but only when he stared at her, did she walk through the entrance and close the door behind her.

  Shutting herself in.

  Shutting him out.

  Thirteen

  Being up at eight o’clock on a Sunday morning should have been considered a punishable offense, but having breakfast with her family before they returned to New Jersey pardoned her crime.

  She smiled, excitement and happiness spilling over as she pulled on her jacket and descended the stairs to the foyer. Already, she’d talked to her aunt Angela, and the other woman’s steady flow of chatter and laughter had been infectious. Devon had needed to finally tell her aunt that she had to hang up and get dressed or she would be late meeting them at their hotel.

  Devon shook her head, her smile faltering. When Zia Angela had informed her of the exact hotel where they were staying, she’d swallowed a surprised gasp. The five-star hotel catered to the wealthiest and most famous, and Cain had arranged for her huge family to stay there like they were royalty. Regardless of how their evening had ended last night after having sex, she was so grateful to him for his treatment of her family.

  And no, she preferred not to dwell on that awkward, cold ride home. As soon as the sweat dried on their skin, he’d seemed eager to be rid of her. And his insistence that what had been special to her was nothing but a momentary lapse in judgment—that she was a beautiful, unwanted, sexy-as-fuck complication—had scored her deeper than it should have. Deeper than she wanted to admit.

  It’d required every bit of acting ability she possessed not to loose her anger, or worse, her tears.

  She’d known.

  God, she’d known that he could inflict damage on her. But she’d convinced herself that she wouldn’t lower her guard.

  All the good that’d done her.

  Pausing on the bottom step, she briefly closed her eyes. She wanted to rail against Cain, to accuse him of using her. But...she couldn’t. This—the hollow, gut-punched feeling weighing her down—could, and should, be laid entirely at her feet.

  Donald had taught her to believe her eyes, her logic, not her heart. For hours last night, she’d stared up at her ceiling, unable to sleep, silently reprimanding herself for forgetting.

  She wouldn’t forget again.

  “Devon, good. You’re awake.” Her father drew to a stop at the base of the staircase, his gaze skimming over her short leather jacket, white T-shirt, jeans and ankle boots. “Where are you going so early?”

  The “looking like that” remained unsaid but was heard loud and clear.

  She considered lying. Confrontation did not top her list of favorite things, especially with her father. But she’d given in to her father once where her family was concerned and lost them for years. Not again.

  “I’m headed downtown to meet up with Zia Angela, Zio Marco and the rest of the family for breakfast.”

  Shock blanked his handsome features. But then anger poured in, mottling his cheeks and thinning his mouth. “Excuse me?”

  “I said that I’m—”

  “I heard you,” he snapped, slicing a hand through the air. “But I don’t want to believe it’s true. What are they doing here in Boston?”

  She detested the derision in his voice when referring to his brothers and sisters—his wife’s family—as if they were beneath him. All because they were poor, and he now had money and a home in a certain zip code.

  “They’re here because Cain invited them here, and because I wanted to see them. We all had dinner together last night, and it would’ve been wonderful if you’d been there, too. They miss you.”

  “Is that why you two didn’t show up at the opening last night? Because you were entertaining them?” His lips twisted into an ugly sneer. “Cain had no business interfering in our family affairs. Your aunts and uncles don’t belong here, not in our world. And I thought you understood that, Devon.”

  “Our family, Dad?” Devon shook her head, loosing a short, incredulous laugh. “I understand that I distanced myself from them to please you, even if it hurt me. Even if I missed them with every breath. Besides you, they are my last connection to Mom. They’re yours, too, but maybe that’s why you cut them out of our lives. Because you don’t want to be reminded of Mom. And because you resent them for reminding you of where we came from. Of why all these blue-blooded assholes won’t accept us into their inner circle.” She stepped down, meeting her father’s glare even though that same fear of disappointing him pumped through her veins. “Well, you can continue to deny their existence, but I’m not going to throw away this chance of getting to know them again. And if that upsets you, well...”

  She shrugged and started past her father, but he grasped her elbow. “We’re not finished with this conversation. But I have more important matters to discuss with you. Come to my study.”

  He released her and, pivoting sharply on his heel, stalked down the hall.

  I don’t have time for this.

  Pulling her cell phone from her back pocket, she peered down at the screen. If she left in ten minutes, she would just make it to the hotel on time. She glanced at the front door, then huffing out a breath, turned and followed her father. Nine minutes. That’s all she would give him.

  “Close the door behind you,” he ordered as she stepped into the study.

  She did as he requested and crossed the room to his desk. “Could we make this quick, Dad? I don’t want to be late.”

  “It will take as long as it takes,” he snapped, his fingers drumming impatiently on the desktop. “This takes precedence over your breakfast.” He paused, studying her. “Where are you with convincing Cain to invite me to be an investor on his real estate project?”

  She stared at him, disbelief and frustration seething inside her. “Really? Are you serious?” she demanded. “I told you I wouldn’t bring that up to him, and I didn’t. Cain wants nothing to do with you, and there’s nothing I could say to convince him otherwise even if I wanted to. Which I don’t.”

  “We discussed this,” he persisted, waving off her response as if it were an annoying pest. “You have more influence than you believe. Where’s your confidence? And Cain bringing his future father-in-law into his business deals would only bolster the appearance of solidarity and a happy union. Think, Devon. Stop being so passive.”

  Five...four...three... She inhaled a deep breath and forcibly shoved her temper down. Losing it never worked when dealing with her father.

  “Cain doesn’t care about appearances. He doesn’t want—”

  “I don’t give a damn what he wants,” he barked, jabbing a finger into the desk. “I need this, Devon. It’s not like he doesn’t have other projects. This is any other deal for him, while it means everything to me. To us. To my business.”

  “Dad,” she whispered, dread and foreboding squirming in her stomach. “What are you talking about? What’s going on?”

  He looked away from her, jaw clenched tight. Several seconds later, he returned his narrowed regard to her, and the anger and—Oh God—flicker of fear in his green eyes deepened her unease. “I’ve made several...unwise investments over the last couple of years, and they’ve had devastating effects on the firm. Our financial situation is dire. I need a new, reliable project guaranteed to bring in profit for my clients and the company. If I don’t...”

  Ruin. Bankruptcy. Scandal.

  Panic and worry for her father churned inside her. “Oh Dad. I’m so sorry. I had no idea...”

  “Now you do,” he said, voice clipped. Then he sighed, and for a moment, he looked so tired, so beaten down
, that she took a step toward him, needing to hug him, offer some comfort. But his face hardened, and he hiked up his chin, his stare pinning her in place. “You understand now why I need you to persuade him to let me in on this deal. And if you can’t convince him, then find some way to obtain the bidding information so I can submit a proposal with a winning bid.”

  Disgust and horror expelled any sympathy for her father. “You can’t mean that, Dad,” she rasped. “You can’t possibly mean that.”

  “Devon, you will do this. I’m your father and your first priority. Your loyalty doesn’t belong to a man you’ve known for weeks, and who would toss you aside in a hot second if not for me forcing him to stay with you. Everything you have right now is because of me. Including that man. Like I told you before, you owe me. Your allegiance. Your duty. Your life. All of it, you owe to me.”

  “And what if the cost is too high?” she demanded, his words splinters that burrowed deep. She didn’t need to be reminded of Cain’s disdain, his desire to be free of her. Last night had demonstrated that quite clearly. “This isn’t about loyalty. This is about your need for more, more, more. More wealth. More status. More connections. More recognition. You’ve already sunk so low as to use a man’s mother to blackmail him into bending to your will. Now you want me to deceive him, spy on him, steal from him. What about my integrity? My soul? Because they would be the price I paid if I went through with your plan. And let’s be clear. I’m. Not.”

  “Stop being so dramatic,” he sneered and yanked open a drawer, withdrawing a sheet of paper and sliding it across the desk toward her. “Pick it up, read it.”

  Hesitant, she complied. A list of about twenty names partially covered the sheet. She recognized a few of them as prominent businessmen, but that was it.

  “What is this?” she asked, lifting her attention from the paper and meeting her father’s gaze.

  A smugness curved his lips. That expression could mean nothing good for her.

  “That is only a partial list of the donors for your community center, but they are the ones who have donated the most money. It will only take one call from me and a word about how their funds are being mismanaged. All it will require is one person to start withdrawing their money before the others fall like dominoes. And Devon, that person will be me. The center won’t continue without the financial support of its benefactors.” He nodded toward the paper she now clutched in her hands like a lifeline.