by Saxon, K. E.
Thankfully, Sam wasn’t the kind to hold a grudge.
Chas was just lucky as hell, though, that he’d agreed to have an early lunch with a mutual friend of his and Sam’s today. As they’d reminisced over the “the good ol’ days”, the guy had laughingly reminded Chas of the rumors that had gone around back then regarding Sam, especially one in particular regarding him and Chas’s prospective buyer. Otherwise, he would never have remembered the connection. Of course, the rumors had been absolute truth, but Chas would never betray them as facts to anyone without Sam’s consent. However, now that he’d gained the reminder, he intended to ask his old buddy for the biggest favor of his life. He needed Sam’s powers of persuasion. Sam and the prospective buyer of Chas’s thoroughbred had an interesting history: For a time, his first year in college, Sam had been her boy toy. And because of that intimate history, Chas was sure Sam could aid him in getting the woman to open her tight fist and let go of the purchase price of his horse.
Hell, Chas wasn’t even sure if Sam knew that he knew about Sam’s brief dabbling with older women of their parent’s set, but Chas was out of other ideas. And after the night he’d just spent in Delilah’s arms, he was even less ready to throw in the towel.
Chas figured he’d have to tell Sam about the financial mess he was in, in order to get him to make contact with the potential buyer and that was not a conversation he wanted to conduct over the phone. He’d bet his mother’s ring that Sam could get through to her this evening, though. Hell, she’d probably sprint to the phone when she found out who it was calling her after all these years. If all went as he hoped, they could go to the stable tomorrow to check out the filly one last time and then she could wire the money directly to his creditors on Monday morning after the papers were signed. But he had to have a verbal agreement this evening. This evening was crucial. He had to know before midnight. Before he had to make his choice. Before he had to break his own heart.
* * *
The ballroom was packed and abuzz with excitement. Chas took a long drink of champagne and eyed the door. Sam was late. A trickle of sweat tickled his temple. Dabbing at it with his napkin, he looked around. The waiters had already begun serving the meal. Looking at his watch for about the sixtieth time in as many minutes, he leapt to his feet. “I’ll just go check on what’s keeping the last member of our party. Be back in a minute.”
Just as Chas made it through the doorway, Sam strolled up, looking about as concerned as a night watchman at a monastery. “I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind,” Chas said, turning and leading the way into the ballroom.
“No. Just running late,” Sam said, following him.
“The meal’s just being served. Our table’s up front in the V.I.P. section.” He looked at his watch again. When was he going to get a chance to talk to Sam now? He’d been counting on using the time before dinner to find a quiet corner to spill his guts and ask his favor.
“Here he is. My surprise number ten.” Chas said, he hoped not too heartily. “Better late than never.” Turning to Sam, he explained, “We put you between Delilah and her sister.” Actually, we hadn’t, Delilah had, and by the time Chas had found out, it was too late to make changes without causing a scene. Besides, he had a much larger matter looming over his head at the moment.
His eyes tracked around the table and stopped short on Isadora and her mother, both of whom wore matching looks of horror on their faces.
“Absolutely not. You’ll sit next to me,” Eudora trumpeted. “Move, Isadora.”
“Oh, but that will destroy the symmetry,” Sam said.
Chas smiled in spite of himself. Leave it to Sam to know exactly how to put the old witch in her place.
Sam dashed around to the vacant chair next to his college sweetheart and sat down, effectively thwarting Eudora’s preemptive strike and Chas resumed his own place between Dee and his father.
* * *
An hour later, the meal over, Chas set his jaw at the grating sound of Eudora’s voice plucking his tightly strung nerves. “Come to the powder room Delilah, your coiffure needs touching up,” she said and stood up. “You must come along, too, Isadora.”
“No thank you, mother,” Isadora said.
“Hmph.”
“I’ll be right back, darling,” Delilah told Chas, her dulcet voice at first a balm and elixir, but ultimately a heartrending reminder of all he would lose. He watched her rise, his eyes following her gracefully swaying progress as she accompanied her stepmother across the ballroom toward the exit.
“So Chas,” Sam said, “You and I should compare notes sometime.”
Chas’s gaze didn’t stray. “Oh, yeah? About what?” he said absently.
“Why, our Izzy, of course. She’s a real wildcat in bed, don’t you agree?”
The words penetrated his abstraction and Chas’s head whipped around. His eyes went straight to Isadora and her eyes told him everything he needed to know. He sent a feral glare Sam’s way.
She bolted from her seat, nearly knocking it over. “I see a friend I need to speak with,” she said and hurried away.
Chas rose to his feet, fists clenched at his side. “I think we’d better take this discussion outside.”
His friend sat forward, dropping his face in his hands. “No need. I’m an asshole. I admit it.”
Chas’s eyes widened in disbelief and wonder. Sam was still in love with Isadora. Chas relaxed his stance. Of course, it didn’t make what he’d said all right, but it certainly made it more forgivable. Chas gave him a one-sided smile. “Yeah, you are.”
Sam let out a weary sigh. “I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not me you need to apologize to, it’s Isadora.”
Sam’s eyes swung in the direction of the balcony and he stood up. “When you’re right, you’re right.”
Chas shook his head as he watched him stride off. He held about as much hope for Sam and Isadora as Chas held for himself and Dee at this point. He lifted his champagne to take a sip and curled his lip. What he needed was a real drink. He walked out of the ballroom toward the cash bar. No matter how desperate he was, after what had just transpired with Sam, it was clear that the timing was not right to beg a favor from the guy. His love, it seemed, was doomed.
* * *
Delilah was still readjusting her garter and stockings in the furthest stall of the powder room after Eudora had finally deigned Delilah’s hair presentable again and left, when a couple of familiarly catty voices entered the room a moment before their owners. Isadora’s friends. Great.
“Did you notice the ring she’s wearing?”
Delilah rolled her eyes, feeling pity for whomever the spiteful felines were tearing apart this time.
“Yeah,” the other said with a sniff, “I don’t think it’s even two carats.”
“Nooo! That’s not what I meant,” the first one said, her voice lowering in conspiracy with each new word she uttered. “Don’t you remember? That’s the ring Chas gave his last fiancée. We met her at the Freemont party last February.”
Delilah’s heart stumbled and sank. Her lungs closed up. Her knees turned to jelly. She leaned against the stall door for support.
With a tinge of derision, the first one continued, “She waved it under our noses like it was the Hope diamond or something.”
The other one cackled with glee. “Ohmygod! You’re right!” And then in a whisper that carried in the tiled chamber, “Do you think she knows?”
“Surely not—but with that one, who knows? She may have been so grateful to be asked, that she didn’t care that he gave her his last one’s castoff.” Evidently done with whatever primping they’d been about, the two left just as quickly as they came.
Delilah wanted to cry, but she didn’t. She wanted to rip the dress she’d spent so many hours picking out—with Chas in mind—off her body and stomp on it, but she didn’t do that either. Instead she fisted her hand on the door of the stall and scowled at the ring on her fing
er. He’d lied to get access to her money. That, she could deal with. In fact, in and of itself, it wasn’t enough to prove malignance. But this—this was worse, far worse. He’d given her another woman’s engagement ring. That showed a lack of feeling for her—a lack of respect—at a level of which she’d not seen from anyone since her father’s trial. He didn’t just not love her—he had no regard for her whatsoever. When she thought about how she’d lapped up his every false word this morning, convincing her that he adored her, adored her body, it made her stomach tremble with fury. To him, she was no more significant than a bug to be squashed.
A frigid calmness entered her and took up residence. I’m worth more than that. With slow purpose, she unclenched her hand and slid the ring from her finger. The only indication that underneath her stoic façade an inferno blazed, came when the door to the powder room banged and bounced against the wall as she strode through it. She was out for blood.
* * *
CHAPTER TEN
Chas watched his last hope for selling his thoroughbred before midnight walk out of the ballroom. He swiveled around and leaned over the bar, swirling the dregs of his gin and tonic around in his glass. Unfortunately, during dinner, and with a table full of guests, his father had taken it upon himself to tell Sam of Chas’s intentions to ask him to be his best man at his wedding, so Chas had had no choice but to go through with it. Oh, well. One more embarrassing mess to clean up tossed onto a plate full of them hardly signified worrying about at this point.
A beefy hand patted his shoulder. “What’s got you so long in the face, my boy,” his dad said, motioning to the bartender to set two more of the same up for them.
Chas only hesitated for a moment. What the hell? The choice was all but made, and his dad was going to badger him about the details until he finally caved and told him the whole crazy story anyway. Might as well tell him now, while he had alcohol at hand to numb the blow and soften the edges. “I tried to sell Blue Lightnin’, but it fell through.”
“You mean you tried again, with the same party?”
“Yeah, but she’s stonewalling me.”
His father nodded. “That’s a real shame. I’m sure it would have been the preferable choice for you, rather than using your fiancée’s money.”
“Yes, but there’s a higher imperative than pride at work here, Dad. I’ll lose Delilah for good if I use her money.”
His father looked surprised. “Delilah’s put that condition on the loan? Sure doesn’t sound like her.”
“It wasn’t her, Dad, it-it was—”
“Don’t tell me: That crazy Eudora’s stuck her crooked claw into it, hasn’t she? Well, don’t you worry, she can’t—”
“No, Dad. It wasn’t her either. Umm—Ever heard the Perrault’s talk about magic and fairies?”
His father gave him a look like Chas had taken a sharp left off Reality Road. But, clearly deciding to humor him in his off the wall change of subject, he said, “Sure.”
Chas straightened, all ears.
“It’s part of their family legend. Supposedly they have a covenant of some kind with the creatures, or did back in the Middle Ages. Of course, it’s just a tall tale, much like any other family legend.”
“Evidently, it’s not. Delilah’s money is charmed, Dad. But more importantly, I was visited by the creature in the wee hours of yesterday morning and she gave me a choice. Essentially, I can either save our company or I can have Delilah, but not both. I’ve got until midnight tonight to make my decision.”
His father drank down the gin and tonic in one long swallow before turning to him and placing his hands on Chas’s shoulders. “You’ve been working too hard, son. You’re confusing dreams with reality. But, I’ll tell you this: If it’s truly a choice you must make between Delilah and the business, then I’m going to say to you exactly what I said to you yesterday: You backed a winner in her. The business will never be as important to me as your happiness is.” He gave Chas a little shake. “Got it? So go tell her.” Without waiting for a reply, he sauntered off toward the ballroom.
Chas’s pulse doubled in meter. For the first time in months, his shoulders felt lighter and his future looked brighter. He glanced at his watch. Ten forty. Plenty of time. Oh. But he needed to get the ring from his Dad. He strode across the carpeted floor toward the same doorway his father had passed under a moment before. He’d already finished whistling the first verse of Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend when a small but determined hand grabbed hold of his arm and yanked him around. Love flooded his heart. “Hey, D—”
She yanked his palm up and dropped something round and metallic into it. “Go to hell.”
Before he could process an answer, she stormed away from him, heading straight for the elevators. He jogged after her. He knew without looking what she’d given him, and why, and his gut churned. “Wait! Dee, let me explain!” He tossed the ring away and sped faster, not caring what wagging tongues would say come tomorrow.
He saw her get into an elevator and turn to face him. He began to run, but the doors started sliding shut before he could reach them. “Dee!” he yelled, bolting forward, hand outstretched, but he was too late. Just before they closed completely, he heard her say, “And you can forget about the money, too, you lying user sonofabitch!”
* * *
Forty-five minutes later, Delilah was just locking her car door outside her friend’s dungeon when Chas’s car zoomed up next to her and screeched to a halt.
He leapt from the car and yelled, “You are NOT going in there!” His eyes bugged out as they traveled down her body, taking in her newest costume. She’d bought it earlier that day with him in mind, but he didn’t have to know that.
“That—that’s obscene. You’re more than three-quarters naked!”
Technically, he was right, but the horizontal leather straps that made up the mini-dress, being held up by two strategically placed vertical ones, concealed the parts of her body that men found most interesting. Which was the point, of course.
She raised her chin and walked around the front of his BMW toward her friend’s place.
“Oh-h-h, no you don’t!” he said, sliding into place directly in her path.
I am not speaking to you, asshole. She stood her ground and gave him a glacial stare. Why hadn’t she brought her crop?
He glanced at his watch, “Get in the car.”
She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Get in the car, Delilah.”
She turned her face away.
“Fine, we’ll play it your way.” Before she had a glimmer of an inkling what he was about, he’d hauled her over his shoulder and tossed her into the back seat of his car.
He poked his head in, a savage gleam to his eye. “You are my woman. I don’t share,” he said and slammed the door closed.
A thrill ran through her. She’d never seen Chas—staid, conservative Chas—act like this before and she’d be the worst kind of liar if she didn’t admit that it excited her a little. But she was through being a milquetoast, and it was time he, and everyone else, learned it. I am Delilah, hear me roar. She sat up and scowled at him as he settled behind the steering wheel and put the car in drive.
Just before he pressed the gas pedal, he caught her gaze in the rearview and said, “I should have known you’d pull something like this. It took me forever to get another elevator down and then I—don’t ask me why—but I thought you might’ve gone to Eudora’s house since I saw her dragging your sister into an elevator not long before you ran out on me. When I didn’t find you there, I went to your house. I was actually headed for that twenty-four hour diner you like when it dawned on me where I’d probably find you.”
She lifted a brow at him.
He swung around to face her. “I love you, Dee—”
“—Ha!”
“—and I’m going to prove it.”
“Don’t bother.” She relaxed against the seat and gazed out the window. “I’m only letting you get away with this bec
ause your caveman routine amuses me.”
He chuckled under his breath as if she’d reminded him of a private joke. Facing forward, he put the car in motion. When he met her eyes again in the rearview, there was a distinct twinkle in them. “I can’t wait to get you pregnant—do they make maternity domme costumes?”
How was it possible that he could turn her on and break her heart at the same time? “I’m sure I have no idea. And, as far as the other—I swear to God, I’ll do the high kick right into your groin if you even attempt to whip it out on me.”
“Ouch.”
“Where are you taking me anyway?”
“Back to the gala.”
Her pulse pounded as she sat straight up. “I don’t think so.”
“I’ve got something I want to give you, but it’s in my dad’s possession at the moment.”
“This is ridiculous. Whatever it is, I don’t want it. Just—just take me back to my car.”
“No. I’ve only got until midnight to change your mind. That’s only”—he looked at his watch again—“a half hour from now.”
“Why? Do you turn into a toad?” She snorted at her own joke.
“Something like that.”
Her eyes narrowed. “This is still about the money isn’t it?” She sat forward. “What? Your creditors want a check by midnight, or something?”
“I don’t give a damn about the money. This is about you and me. You, me, our life together, and love.”
She rolled her eyes and curled her lip. Love. Crossing her legs and arms, she sat back, giving him her profile. What a liar.
* * *
This was not going well. Not going well at all. Chas took another peek in his rearview at the now deathly silent and totally withdrawn woman he’d hurt so badly with his thoughtlessly executed proposal. It was time to start explaining. “That fairy of yours is a real freaky lady, isn’t she?
Delilah pierced him with her gaze. “How do you know?”
“She visited me.”
