by Saxon, K. E.
Delilah shot forward, both hands on the back of his seat. “When?”
“The morning after our engagement party. She was—”
“What did she say to you?”
“She said quite a bit actually. But the gist was that I could either have your money or have you.”
“Let me guess: You chose the money.” She plopped back against the seat and turned her face from him.
Chas pressed his lips together in a thin line. Now this was the tricky part. “Yes—and no. I wanted to choose you over my dad’s company. Wanted to with all my heart—”
“Stop lying! The jig’s up, there’s really no need.”
Chas was quickly losing confidence that he was going to be able to change her mind—at least about the depth of feelings he had for her. But he could at least show her he wasn’t the monster she believed him to be. “I tried talking to my dad about it—I told him that I might lose the company, you know, just to feel him out. He was so crushed by the thought, especially so soon after Mom’s passing, that I just couldn’t do it to him.”
Delilah tried to keep her heart from softening, but failed miserably. “I understand. You had no choice. I would have done the same in your shoes.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “But it doesn’t excuse you giving me your ex-fiancée’s ring! And worse, you had sex with me under false pretenses. You used me! And I gave you my virginity shit-lick. With a huff, she turned her head. “I truly hate you for that.”
Hate. The word sucker-punched him in the gut. How do you fight that? He couldn’t breathe. He had to admit, seen through her eyes, what he’d done was indefensible, but he couldn’t just leave that destructive word hanging in the air between them as if all she’d accused him of were true. “First of all, I made love to you because I was on fire for you and I literally could not stop myself. What we shared was no mere lay—it was combustible and rare. I know you’re inexperienced about these things, so I’m giving you a little latitude for not knowing the difference. And God only knows, Dee, I did try to do the noble thing by you. I did. But my desire for you was too strong.”
He watched in the rearview as her angry brow relaxed. She was still, quiet, but he knew she’d listened, was thinking about what he’d said and, hopefully, finding the truth in it.
“As for the ring—I was an idiot. I—I knew better, but did it anyway. This is no excuse, just a reason, but Dee, you walked into my office like an answered prayer at the exact moment I was living my worst nightmare.”
Her back went up again. “And you went straight for my Achilles heel. You made me—and my family, by association—a laughingstock all over again. All my stepmother’s society friends are no doubt salivating to tell her what you did to me.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears when she turned her scowl on him once more. “She never was convinced you gave a fig about me, and now she, I, and everyone else, knows it’s true.”
His heart wrenched. He opened his mouth to deny her claim, but snapped it shut again. Too soon. She wasn’t ready to believe him. Besides, they were just about to pull into the parking garage of the hotel. Maybe, just maybe, with a little help from his father and friends—Fairy, you listening?—he could convince her for once and always that he truly loved her.
* * *
“You’re kidding, right?” Delilah said, tugging to get her hand released from Chas’s before he could manage to get her out of his car. “I’m not going in there dressed like this.”
“You were out on the street in this getup, so it can’t embarrass you that badly, and I’m running out of time. You’re going to have to go in with me. Come on.” With a final yank, he had her on her feet and jogged, with her an unwilling cargo pulled behind him, directly for the elevators leading to the ballroom.
“That was different and you know it! This—these people—argh!”
He pushed her into the elevator and crowded her into the corner. “This outfit is driving me crazy, by the way.” Before she could take a breath to retort, the hungry contact of his lips upon hers swept it away. His hand slid under the strap covering her nipple and he stroked his thumb across it. Her womb tightened with need and despite herself she melted into his embrace. Evidently believing he’d dispelled her anger and distrust with one brief sexual interlude, he said, “When I get you home, I’m going to enjoy exploring—thoroughly—all the treasures this leather conceals.”
What a jerk. She shoved him away. “No thanks, I’m busy.”
Chas’s eyes narrowed slightly as he studied her in silence for what seemed like eons before turning and facing the doors.
Well, what did he expect? Oh, she knew exactly what he expected: Her to roll over, forgive his lies, and play the goody-two-shoes sweet little thing that she’d always been. Actions speak louder than words, however, and his had been a ship horn. She was not getting sucked in again by belated, and empty, words of devotion, nor by her own sexual attraction to him.
* * *
When the elevator doors slid open, Chas automatically put his arm around Delilah’s waist and led her out into the outer lobby of the ballroom. He was encouraged when she didn’t step from of his embrace. He was also proud as hell of her when she tilted her chin up and boldly walked toward the doors leading into the ballroom proper, ignoring the gasps, whispers behind hands, and goggling eyes that surrounded them.
“They’re just jealous,” he murmured near her ear.
“Hmph. Right,” she said under her breath. But then she turned a curious gaze on him. “Aren’t you worried about your precious reputation?”
“No, not a bit. In fact…” He swung her around and planted a hard wet one on her where they stood. When he set her back firmly on her feet, there was actual shock in her eyes. “Holy cow,” she said.
“I love you, Delilah.”
A flash fire ignited in her eyes. “If you say that to me one more time, I swear, I’ll slug you right in the kisser.”
The tight band of worry that had been gripping his insides since she’d fled the ballroom earlier, eased slightly. Her cold hatred was growing hot. That meant she was thawing, didn’t it? Which had to be good for him, right? “Come on. Let’s find my father,” he said, taking her hand and continuing their trek to the ballroom.
He had to give her the ring. The ring was key. It would convince her. It had to.
And if it didn’t? No, too soon to think about that. For now, he must stay focused.
* * *
After about the first two minutes of bone-chilling embarrassment, Delilah actually began to find humor in the horrified, but highly curious, looks and whispers she was receiving due to her unorthodox outfit. And the fact that Chas was completely unperturbed, actually more tuned in to her and how she was reacting, than on what it was going to do to his reputation, melted her heart a little more. She’d been trying in vain to strong arm that block of ice back into place, but it wouldn’t budge.
She could only imagine what her stepmother and Isadora would screech at her tomorrow once the night’s events were spilled in detail to them, but she was through with trying to be liked by them, trying to fit into their strict little mold. She’d never done it and never would, because she wasn’t like them. It was time for her to stand up and be proud of who she was: A bright, kindhearted woman with a full figure and a penchant for the slightly wicked.
* * *
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Chas’s father’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head as the two of them approached the table. Luckily, the few others in their party that hadn’t left yet were on the dance floor, so he could speak to his father in private. “Hi, Dad. Isn’t she stunning?” he asked before planting a light kiss on Delilah’s cheek and giving her hand a squeeze.
His father stood up. “Yes, yes. That’s—ahem—quite an outfit. Quite an outfit.” He looked around sheepishly as he pulled out a seat for her. “We can’t stay, Dad. I just came to get what you’re holding for me.”
“Oh, yes,” he said, digging for it in the inside jacket pocket of his
tuxedo.
Chas took the ring box and hauled Delilah out onto the balcony. The wind was cold up here, so he took his jacket off and tucked it around her shoulders. Taking one last glance at his watch, he said, “Okay, Delilah, this is it. We’re at the eleventh hour of the eleventh hour.” He looked around, up into the heavens. “Fairy, if you can hear this, here’s my choice: I choose Delilah.”
A shadow of a laugh haunted the air around them. “Yes, but does she choose you?”
His heart trembled in his chest. Yes, that was the question. He pressed Delilah into a chair and kneeled down beside her. He opened the box and showed the ring to her. “Delilah Perrault, will you do me the supreme honor of becoming my wife?”
* * *
She gasped. “Chas!” Delilah understood the significance of the ring because she knew its history, knew that it had never left his mother’s hand until the day she gave it to him, and knew as well that Chas would never give it to anyone unless that person really was someone he loved and respected. What remained of her anger—which wasn’t much—fled on gossamer wings of forgiveness.
But there was still a pall that lay over the gift. “Chas. What about your Dad? You can’t forsake him, you can’t.”
The smile he gave her was tender. “I’m not, believe me—I intend to sell a thoroughbred tomorrow, come hell or high water. It’ll give me the cash I need. But, Dee, Dad released me from my obligation to him in any case, earlier this evening. Once I told him that I’d lose you if I took your money, he told me to forget about the business—that you were more important to me than our business, and my happiness was more important to him.”
Her heart thudded in her chest. He was so handsome. Everything that she’d ever dreamed of having and never thought she’d get. But all those lies so smoothly given, so easily manipulating her beliefs. Could she ever trust him with her heart again?
“Chas, I don’t know what to say….”
He squeezed her hands. “Say yes, Delilah.”
She looked at his hands covering her own. She gazed hard at the ring that held so much significance for Chas. “What is your heart’s desire, Lila. Answer that, and all will be as it should.” The fairy’s voice was but a whisper in Delilah’s heart, but she understood every word.
Delilah closed her eyes tight as fear warred with hope in her breast. What do you desire, heart? Opening her eyes, she looked at Chas, who awaited her response with both anticipation and dread clear in his gaze. I desire to love this man and know that I am loved in return. She looked again at the ring.
“On my mother’s grave, Delilah, I love you.”
You humiliated me. If I accept you, am I reverting? “When? For how long?”
He rested his forehead on her knee a second and then lifted his gaze to her once more. “I think I was falling for you for quite a while, but just so tied up in knots over my financial problems, that I didn’t realize it. But I knew without a doubt after we made love the first time.”
“Maybe it’s just sexual attraction.”
“Maybe.” Her heart plummeted. “But I don’t think it is. I’ve been attracted to loads of women before—even been engaged to several of them—and I can tell you that I’ve never had the depth and breadth of feeling for any of them that I do for you. Feelings of both tenderness and caveman possessiveness.”
That made her smile. “I wish—I wish I could believe.”
He squeezed her hand. “You gave me your heart and I handled it as if it meant nothing to me. I will regret that until my dying day. But if you give me another chance—please give me another chance!—I’ll cherish it as I should have done from the start.”
She hesitated. He looked at his watch. “Thirty-five more seconds, Delilah. What more do you need from me? I chose you over the money, I chose you over my reputation, I’ve given you the most precious possession I own. What more, what more?” He looked at his watch again. “Eighteen seconds, seventeen, sixteen, fifteen…”
Oh, God. Could she make that leap again? But if she didn’t where would she be?
“…seven, six…”
“Take a chance, Delilah,” the fairy whispered.
“…three, two—”
“Yes!” Delilah flung her arms around Chas’s neck, toppling them both to the ground. “Yes! Yes, Yes, I’ll marry you!” She kissed him with all the love in her heart behind it.
* * *
Purple mist swirled around their entwined bodies. “And they lived happily ever after,” the fairy said with a sigh. “But, I’ve one more piece of business before my job is done….”
* * *
Part Two: Toads
_______________________
Once upon a time,
there were two sisters,
one cursed and one blessed
by fairy magic….
INTERLUDE
i m n hell. i h8 it here.
Isadora Perrault punched each character with vigor into her BlackBerry. A few seconds later came the reply from her mother: Stay put. Look for the old hag with the purple coat. She’s the one.
With her mother’s oft-repeated dictum reverberating in her head to maintain the God-given social barrier between those of their rank and the unwashed masses, Isadora viciously tamped down her initial pang of sympathy and cringed away from the filthy street creature with foul-smelling breath and bad teeth that loomed much too close to her. “No,” she told him, then scooted further down the two-foot-high marble wall she’d been sitting on for the past hour across from the Houston Public Library and turned her attention back to her BlackBerry and her texting. Fine, she replied and hit the send button.
She lifted her gaze and scanned the perimeter for about the thousandth time. Would the old lady never show up? The so-called ‘beggar woman’ that her sister had given assistance to last week—the one that had then mysteriously, but most assuredly, blessed her with the ability to make loads of money in diamond stocks—was now of keen interest to both Isadora and her mother. “If anyone deserves to be a millionairess,” her mother said afterward, “it is you, Isadora—not that oh-so-sweet, goody-two-shoes half-sister of yours, Delilah.” Now Isadora was here with the express purpose of having the old thing toss a little magic her way as well.
A woman, professionally dressed in a red suit and matching pumps, walked across the paved promenade toward Isadora, her cell phone tucked against one ear while she dug inside her purse. Isadora turned a jealous eye on the shoes. Manolo Blahnik. Her feet are too fat for those.
The woman tripped on something and lost her balance. In the next second, she was flat out on the pavement, face-first.
Isadora shrugged. See? Too fat. The woman’s cell phone hit the ground and slid across the pavement, stopping an inch from Isadora’s foot.
Isadora glanced at the slim pink device, scooted down another few spaces and continued to scroll through the newest tweets on her Twitter page. “Jaded,” her favorite Aerosmith song, blasted from the BlackBerry in her hand at the same time her mother’s name popped up on the screen. She punched the answer button and lifted the phone to her ear. As she did so, she looked up. The lady in red, on her feet again, waved her hand in the air and fluttered her fingers in Isadora’s direction.
Isadora swiveled to her right, giving the strange woman her shoulder. “Hello, Mother,” she said. “No. Still no sign of her.”
A loud pop! and a sudden scent of patchouli wafted over to her from the direction she’d just turned from. With a jolt, Isadora swung her head around. Sparks flew and a cloud of glitter dust floated in the space where the woman had just been, but there was no trace of the lady in red. She’d vanished.
“Uh oh,” Isadora said. I think I just blew it, Mother. “Go blow yourself, Mother.” Huh?
* * *
CHAPTER TWELVE
Two nights later, Isadora sat next to her mother at the head table in the ballroom of Chas Regan’s River Oaks mansion. Texas blue blood, 30-something finance guru extraordinaire, and now her lucky-duck sister’s
fiancé. She was determined to keep her mouth firmly shut tonight—and maybe for many more to come. She’d already alienated her friends with her humiliating, uncontrollable, oddball tweets and handwritten gobbledegook. So, tonight she’d just pretend to have laryngitis or something. At least until she’d figured out how to get the fairy curse lifted.
“Will you look at Candace, that tart?” her mother said, not as quietly as she should, into her ear. “She has three fine prospects dancing to her tune already, and she only just walked through the door two seconds ago!”
Isadora nodded. How desperate can you get?? “She’s dexterous, I’ll bet.” She bit down hard on her tongue.
Her mother turned a bug-eyed look on her and then blinked. “Such filth! When out in society, a man wants a wife with gentille manners, not those of a street tramp.” She sat closer and whispered, “Do you have a fever?”
Isadora just shook her head. It was no use.
“Well, you’d best have this distasteful turn of behavior out of your system by the night of the gala at the Crystal Ballroom, because I promise you this: I shall not pardon it, I tell you this now.”
Isadora gave a docile nod.
“Honestly, Isadora,” she continued unappeased, “you haven’t been yourself since your fruitless attempt to find your sister’s fairy the other day.” Her mother shook her finger at her. “And don’t think I’ve forgiven you for that crude comment you threw at me that day, either.” Her mother’s spine stiffened and she tilted her head back, just enough to look down her nose at her. “Get a grip on yourself, girl. You’ve already stood by while your sister stole the husband I had earmarked for you and now you’re just sitting there while Candace gets her claws in every other eligible prospect here tonight.”
Isadora only nodded. Maybe she should tell her what really happened that day. Except. She couldn’t trust her tongue anymore. It twisted everything she tried to say. Besides, it’d only give her mother more reason to be angry with her.
