Burn for You

by Marquita Valentine

  The sun’s reflection off the water is so bright that I have to blink a couple of times before my eyes adjust. I check on Mia, but she seems to be fine. One little hand clutches at my dress while the other waves.

  Henry looks up, smiles, and waves back.

  “She’s excited about the food, too,” I say.

  “She’s beautiful, like her mother,” he says, pulling out a seat for me. “Come. Sit. Eat. I’ll serve you.”

  “I’m not her mother,” I say, sitting down. “I’m the nanny.”

  Henry begins to take the covers off the plates, and I swear I start to drool. “Will you get time to yourself, then? I could take you around, show you the sights.”

  Is he hitting on me? Or being friendly? I don’t want to be rude, but I also don’t want to encourage him. “I’m not sure if—”

  Henry bends down, touching my bare shoulder and letting his fingers skim down my arm and back up again.

  I shiver, but not because I’m enjoying his touch—I’m uncomfortable and unsure how to handle this. I’m not at King’s, where this is par for the course and I can call someone to help me. Plus, I’m holding Mia and Beau’s in the shower. So, I try the direct approach. “Please take your—”

  “Even the help gets a holiday in Monte Carlo, love.” His fingers touch my neck and then my clavicle.

  “Stop,” I say, trying to keep my voice firm but calm. I don’t want to scare Mia.

  “Are you sure, love?”

  “Yes.” My stomach flips. What if he doesn’t stop?

  “Get your hand off her. Now.”

  My gaze flies to the door. Henry’s hand falls away as he straightens.

  Beau stands there, wearing nothing but a glare, nipple rings, and a pair of jeans. The jeans hang loosely on his hips, giving me an unobstructed view of just how cut he is—everywhere. The swirling lines of a tattoo I hadn’t seen before peeks out from under the waistband, and my vision sparks.

  “Are you okay?” he asks me.

  “We were only talking, sir.”

  “I didn’t ask you,” Beau snaps.

  “I’m fine.” I hold Mia closer to me and kiss the top of her head. “Really.”

  Beau’s eyes flash hot. “Let me walk you to the door, Henry.”

  Beau

  The only thing keeping me from going ape-shit on this asshole is her answer. But as we get closer to the door, the more furious I get. This fucker put his hand on Landry while my daughter was in her lap.

  If Landry had wanted him to do it, then yeah I would be pissed, but I would have accepted him as her choice. Only, a blind man could’ve seen how uncomfortable she was, how out of her element... and she’d told him to stop touching her twice. Twice. Once should have been enough.

  And now that I think about it, I wouldn’t have accepted shit about him being her choice.

  “Are you in the habit of putting your hands where they don’t belong?”

  “I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again. The women staying here usually like the attention. Again, I’m sorry.” He holds out a thin, rectangular book. “Please convey my apologies to—”

  “Ms. Basnight,” I supply, taking the bill from him and signing it.

  “Yes. Please convey my apologies to the lady.” Henry seems contrite enough, but I’m not convinced.

  I glance over my shoulder at Landry. She’s watching me with a worried look on her face while she feeds Mia bits of fruit. “I’m sorry,” she mouths and looks away.

  She’s sorry? What the hell did she have to be sorry about? The fury burning inside of me comes to a head.

  Turning my attention back to Henry, I hold out my hand to shake his, like everything is a-okay. The minute his fingers touch mine, I wrench his arm around his back, spinning him around and pinning him to the wall by the open door.

  “Fuck, mate. I apologized.” He breathes out hard, spit covering his cheek.

  “That fixes everything, right? You got caught. That’s why you apologized.” I twist his arm even more.

  “Son of a bitch.” His skin starts to pale.

  I dip my head, bringing my mouth so close to his ear that I could go Mike Tyson on it if I wanted to. Right at this moment, I want to and the only thing holding me back is the knowledge that my daughter and Landry are practically in the same room. “If you ever put your hands on her again, I’ll break your fucking arm off, and shove it so far up your ass that your hand pops out of your mouth. You won’t ever need to use a fork to eat again. Are we clear?”

  Henry’s eyes widen and he whimpers, “Yes, sir. Mr. Montgomery, sir.”

  “So glad we had this little talk.” I smile, shove him out the room and slam the door behind him. Then I take the high chair I’d found out in the hall and head to the balcony to sit with my girls.

  “This was outside.” I move a chair out of the way and set it beside Landry. Smiling with a calmness I don’t remotely feel, I pick up an apple and take a bite. “I’ll cut up some of this for Mia.”

  Without a word, Landry places Mia in the highchair, soft tendrils of hair brushing the back of her neck, as she secures her in the seat. I want to pull out that adorable bun, just so I can see all that beautiful hair floating around her.

  “Thank you for saving me from Handsy Henry.” She lifts her hazel eyes to mine. They’re shiny, but she’s not crying. “You’d think I would have known what to do in that situation, but I wasn’t expecting it and I was holding Mia.” She blows out a shaky breath. “I feel so stupid right now. I’m sorry.”

  I sit down beside her, taking her chin in my hand. “You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing. And don’t you ever refer to yourself as stupid.”

  “I won’t.” She gives me a wobbly smile. “Don’t tell anyone, but it felt good to see you rough him up.”

  “Saw that, did you?” I let go of her chin and take another bite of my apple.

  She nods. “Where did you learn to do that?”

  Grinning, I raise my brows. “Baby, you can take a boy out of the country, but you can never take the country out of the boy, especially when he’s nothing but trailer park trash in the first place.”

  This time, Landry grabs my chin, her small fingers scalding my skin. “Don’t you ever refer to yourself as trash. Trash doesn’t defend a woman or take care of his responsibilities.”

  I wrap my fingers around her hand, pull it away from my face, and let go. “I want to kiss you right now, for saying something so sweet.”

  Her lips part. “That makes two of us.”

  Slowly I lean in, just in case she changes her mind. Our mouths touch, hers warm and soft. Nothing more than a caress, maybe only a thank you. I can accept that, if that’s all she is willing to give me.

  But then her lips part and that little pink tongue of hers darts out to touch my lip ring. I almost lose it right then and there. I fist my hands, one on the table and the other on my leg, to keep from touching her while she explores my piercing, while she licks and sucks and make me shake.

  The need to touch her, to pull down the straps of her dress so I can see her breasts, rides me hard, but I don’t give in. I will not give in. I chant the words in my head to keep focuses.

  She breaks the kiss first. Her eyes are sparkling, her cheeks are flushed, and her lips look bee stung. “We need to eat,” she whispers as I press a kiss to her forehead. I don’t want to stop kissing her.

  “You tasted pretty damn good,” I say, my lips now at the corner of her mouth. “Like strawberries.”

  Landry blushes. “You tasted like—“

  Mia squeals, bringing me back to reality. I can’t be doing this with Landry in front of my daughter. Hell, I shouldn’t be doing it in the first place.

  Landry sits back in her chair and I do the same, finally grabbing a knife to cut up the apple for my daughter.

  “I think I’m going to like being in Monaco,” she says, ducking her head, but not before I see the sweet smile on her face or the heightened blush on her cheeks.

  I scat
ter some of the apple chunks in front of Mia. “Me,too.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Beau

  I’m not sure what I’m more excited about, racing at Monte Carlo, or spending time with Landry. Right now, they’re equally important to me.

  I walk out onto the track and spy a familiar face. It’s not one I want to see. “I thought I told you to stay home.”

  Remington crosses his arms over his chest, still leaning against a million-dollar vehicle. “I don’t take orders from you, son.”

  I flinch at the word son, just like I do every time he says it. “Get off the car.”

  “Again, son, I don’t take orders.”

  “You don’t own the fucking car. Romanov Industries does. So unless you want some Russian up your ass, I suggest you get the hell off it.”

  That wipes the smirk off his face. He steps away, letting his arms hang at his sides. “Who blew who for this?”

  “Are you seriously accusing me of trading sex for a sponsorship?” Because I couldn’t get this on my own, right? Because I’m the bastard you feel guilty about, and it’s the only reason you ever wanted me to come live with you. I don’t say any of this, because some paparazzi show up with their cameras and questions. They shout at us in a foreign language I don’t understand.

  Gritting my teeth and ignoring them, I check out the exterior of the car. It’s dark red, sleek and—I take a look at the engine—faster than anything I’ve ever driven.

  “You’re going to have to watch her on the turns. She’s light, not like what you’re used to.” Remington kneels beside the car, inspecting the tires. He’s all about the tires. I have to agree with him on that one. If your tires are shit, then it doesn’t matter the size of the engine or who’s behind the wheel. You’re done before you can even get started. “Tires look good.”

  “I know.”

  “I checked out the course this morning, while you were wasting daylight.” He whistles as he stands. “Ain’t nothing like what we got at home.”

  “Good.” Maybe my abbreviated responses will get him to leave.

  “You aren’t thinking about doing this full time, are you? They speak funny over here and eat food my dog would turn his nose up at. Mia wouldn’t like it if you—”

  I jerk my head around to stare at Remington. “Are you serious?”

  Remington shifts his weight to one side. “Well... yeah, I am. When you didn’t race this season, I thought you were done with me.”

  For no damn good reason, my heart beats out a funny rhythm. “I am done with you, but I’m not moving over here.”

  “Then why’d you do it?”

  Bracing my hands against the car, I lean over the engine once more. “Because there are people and things in my life more important than a family legacy of racing. Mia needs me. She won’t be this little forever, and I have enough money to live on for the rest of my life—three times over. This is a dream of mine, always has been, but since you never took the time to get to know me, you wouldn’t know that.”

  Remington grunts and I look up at him, squinting a little against the sun. “Just who do you think put a bug in Romanov’s ear in the first place?”

  I swallow. “Why?” I ask, just for shits and giggles.

  “Because as much as you hate me, I love you, and damn it, I owed it to you.”

  A rush of emotion swarms over me, but not over him owing me. This is the first time I’ve ever heard Remington say he loved anything other than racing and women. “You don’t owe me anything,” I snap.

  “It doesn’t mean you owe me back, son. Or that I expect you to start loving me. I screwed up too bad for that to happen, but I appreciate how you’ve allowed Judith and me into our granddaughter’s life.”

  “Really, this is too much, even for you. I want the other Remington back,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair.

  Remington grabs my shoulder. “Beau, I am not that man anymore. I used to be that man, but I’m not... After your mother killed herself, I stopped.”

  “Shut up,” I say softly.

  “I loved her, but the two of us... we weren’t right, Beau. What we did to Judith wasn’t right either.”

  “Don’t you dare bring her into this. I won’t have you bad-mouth my mother when she’s not even alive to defend herself.”

  “She’s a part of this, whether you like it or not. Damn it boy, I saw how you killed yourself for Paisley Sawyer. You don’t think I recognized myself in that, in you?”

  “I am nothing like you.”

  Remington smiles, but it’s not cocky or arrogant, or any other word I usually associate with him. “You are exactly like me where it counts. Neither one of us could save her, Beau, and that’s all we want to do for the people we love.”

  “I don’t love Paisley.”

  “You used to.”

  “I used to do a lot of things.” I stand up, brushing off his hand. “If you don’t mind, I need to practice and then get back home in time for supper.”

  Remington chuckles. “Home, huh? I can see why you’d want to rush home. That nanny got you twisted inside out, with those big eyes and—”

  “Stop right there.” Holding up my hand, I shake my head. “Yeah, I’m all twisted up inside, but it’s because Paisley fucked me up good, not Landry. Landry’s better than us. She didn’t live a fucked up life like we did.”

  “So, she’s like Judith,” he muses.

  “And this is why you are so fucking wrong about me and her. For one, if she were mine, I wouldn’t do the shit you did to Judith or to my mother. I would have picked one and stuck with her, not this chasing skirts bullshit. But Landry’s not mine, so I’m staying the hell away from her.” I slam the hood of the car down.

  “That why you hired her, so you could stay the hell away,” he mocks.

  “Jesus, Remington. I do not want to have this conversation with you, especially not here of all places. Go back to your latest piece of ass and leave me alone.”

  “Can’t do that, son. I left you alone for far too long as it is.”

  I smirk at him, wanting to smash my fist into his face. “I don’t take orders from you.”

  “You be careful around that girl. If she’s so pure and good, unlike the rest of us, you best be keeping your dick in your pants, else you’ll end up with another kid.” Remington makes a noise, like he’s laughing at his own joke. “Then again, with her, I’m pretty sure you’d be taking care of your own blood this time.”

  “Enough,” I shout, shoving my finger into his chest. “Keep that shit up and you won’t see Mia again. I swear to God, Remington. Do. Not. Push. Me.”

  Remington’s lips thin for minute, and then he smiles and waves at the paparazzi. “See you tomorrow, son,” he calls out as he leaves.

  “The hell you will.” I grab my phone from my pocket and text my contact with Romanov Industries.

  Me: DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, LET REMINGTON MONTGOMERY PAST SECURITY AT THE TRACK.

  Her response is quick.

  Yvette Petrov: Of course, Mr. Montgomery. Anything else?

  Me: Thank you, but no.

  Yvette Petrov: Is the car to your liking? Any suggested changes?

  Me: So far, it’s amazing. I will let you know after I take her out.

  Yvette Petrov: Very good. A representative will be in tomorrow to speak with you. Thank you for allowing Romanov Industries to be your corporate sponsor.

  “No, thank you for sponsoring me,” I say as I tuck my phone into one of the pockets of my racing suit. I put on my helmet as I walk around to the driver’s side and climb in.

  “Time to shut up and drive, Montgomery.” I crank up the engine and smile.

  *** *** ***

  Landry

  After Mia’s afternoon nap, I slather sunscreen on the both of us and then head down the pool, armed with baby floats, snacks, and towels. I’m dragging already, but I know we need to stay awake for the rest of the day and not take another nap.

  I snap the strap
s of the hat she’s wearing under her chin as we wait for the elevator. The doors open, and Henry’s standing there. His eyes go wide, and he looks like he’s about to puke.

  “I’ll wait for another one,” I say, though I don’t feel the least bit of pity for him.

  He nods, keeping himself busy with the cart in front of him. The doors close and less than a minute later, they open again. Luckily, this elevator is empty, and we get to the pool in no time at all.

  Mia looks so cute in her ladybug print bathing suit and matching hat that I snap a picture and text it to Beau and Paisley. Immediately, my phone rings.

  “Can you swim?” Paisley asks, her face etched with concern.

  “Yes. And I have a float for Mia, too. One of the pool boys, er... guys is blowing it up for us,” I say, and most of the worry leaves her face. “There are lifeguards stationed around the pool, too.”

  “Where’s Beau?”

  “Practice.”

  “You don’t feel comfortable talking about him to me, do you?” she asks.

  “Not really,” I say honestly.

  “It’s a good thing I don’t have the same problem. Look, you’re a nice girl, but he’ll always be tied to me. Do you want that? Do you want a man who could never be completely yours, because he had a child with another woman?”

  I don’t answer her. My chest grows tight, and it becomes hard to breath. I know this about Beau, and I thought I didn’t care, but...

  “Good girl. Now you’re thinking with your college-educated brain, instead of that soft heart.” Then she switches subjects. “Is Mia doing okay? I bet her schedule is off.”

  Pausing for a moment, I gather my thoughts. “She’s a lot better today. Even ate like a little pig this morning. I’m trying to keep her up until dinnertime, so she’ll adjust to Monaco time.”

  Paisley smiles at me. “Thank you so much for taking good care of her. Beau needs all the help he can get so he can concentrate on winning.”

  Mystified by her, I shift Mia to my other hip. She grabs onto my bathing suit top’s strap. “You’re welcome.”