Richer Than Sin

by Meghan March

  “I’m afraid it was approved by me in advance, Mother. We welcome everyone here at The Gables.”

  A petite brunette wearing a tailored skirt suit steps into the room. She has to be McKinley Riscoff, even though she looks nothing like the shy girl I remember.

  “And if you would, please try to keep your voice down in the spa. People are enjoying the tranquility.”

  “You approved this?”

  Mrs. Riscoff looks like she’s about to have a fit. Her cheeks are turning red, and I’m terrified she’s going to drop dead right here in the spa, and then I’ll be the Black Widow and the Mother Killer.

  “I’m almost done, Mrs. Riscoff. I’m sure there will be no reason for me to return after today.”

  “Oh no, by all means,” McKinley says. “You’re very welcome here. In fact, I came down to welcome you personally. It’s not every day we have someone so—”

  “Infamous. That’s what she is. If nothing else, she’ll be terrible for publicity after she drove her husband to kill himself.” Mrs. Riscoff spits out the accusations that are no worse than anything I’ve heard before, but they sting more coming from her. She turns to McKinley. “If that’s how you’re going to run this resort, I’m sure your grandfather would be happy to take it back and give it to Harrison. He’s the one who should’ve had it to begin with.”

  McKinley smiles sweetly, but I sense that the girl has her own well-honed suit of armor when it comes to dealing with her mother. “I apologize for my mother’s behavior. You’re welcome anytime. All you have to do is call, and we’ll make sure we can find room for you on the schedule.” She turns to Mrs. Riscoff. “Mother, if you’d come with me, there’s another matter we need to discuss.”

  She leads Mrs. Riscoff away, and both Gabi and I breathe a sigh of relief.

  “Good Lord. She’s a dragon. You dodged a bullet not ending up with her for a mother-in-law. Can you imagine?”

  I shiver at the thought. That’s something that Mrs. Riscoff never would have let happen.

  My train of thought is derailed when we hear McKinley scream from the hallway.

  “Someone call 911!”

  21

  Whitney

  The past

  “Meet me in the hallway on the third floor in twenty minutes.”

  I knew I shouldn’t be in this house. I couldn’t stop looking over my shoulder, even though I had a perfectly good reason to be here.

  The Riscoffs’ housekeeper brought in reinforcements to scrub the entire estate top to bottom before some big party they were hosting tomorrow night, and through some insane turn of events, Aunt Jackie got the offer and snapped up the chance because the pay was so good.

  Lincoln had seen me washing floor-to-ceiling windows in the parlor an hour after we got here, and whispered those words in my ear with one of the other household staff only a half a room away working on the chandelier.

  Words that I should ignore if I know what’s good for me.

  It had been two months of clandestine meetings, and every single time, I told myself it was the last time.

  I’m a big, fat liar.

  I couldn’t quit him. I wanted to. I needed to. But I couldn’t.

  I looked around and saw that the woman in the black-and-white maid’s uniform, which thankfully we didn’t have to wear, was fixated on cleaning each individual piece of crystal before replacing it.

  I could sneak away. I could meet him. But I shouldn’t. Every thought I had about Lincoln Riscoff pretty much included the word shouldn’t, but it hadn’t stopped me yet.

  I lowered the squeegee into the bucket and turned to the woman. “Is there a restroom I can use?”

  She looked up from her task. “Staff restrooms are next to the kitchen, the basement, or out in the garage. Don’t even think about using another one, or Mrs. Riscoff will toss you out of this house on your ear.”

  If she knew what I was doing with her son, she’d do even more than that, I’m sure.

  I couldn’t even believe she let Gables into the house to clean. Then again, when I brought that up, it sounded like Jackie’s friend didn’t mention our last name to the head housekeeper when she hired us.

  “Got it. I’ll be back then.”

  “Try not to get lost. I spent my whole first month here wandering around like an idiot, and nearly got fired.”

  I nodded with a polite smile affixed to my face and left the room.

  My heart pounded and my palms sweated as my sneakers squeaked on the marble floor. For some insane reason, the scene from Pride and Prejudice where Elizabeth was walking through Pemberley on a tour came to mind. Was this how she felt? Like she knew she shouldn’t be there? Probably, but then again, Elizabeth was also thinking, Of all this, I might have been mistress. Her version of mistress and mine were totally different.

  There was no way I would ever rule over this estate. I glanced out at the gorge through the wall of windows I passed.

  Nope. This isn’t for me. The Riscoffs probably kept their mistresses hidden far away from the wives.

  Oh my God. Why would I even think that? I wasn’t going to be anyone’s kept woman. Ever. And Lincoln and I couldn’t be together openly, so why was I even tiptoeing toward the grand staircase to meet him?

  Because I’m dick-struck. That was all. It was good sex. Great sex. I was hooked on what he could do in bed. I nodded my head like I was agreeing with myself when I knew it was all bullshit. I was getting in too deep. I felt things I shouldn’t feel.

  I crept up the staircase, checking over my shoulder every other step, waiting for someone to question my presence and throw me out of the house.

  I’m sorry. I got lost. That was the best excuse I’d have. It worked for their real staff, right?

  As soon as I reached the second floor, a voice echoed down the hall to the left.

  Shit. I bolted up the next flight, and my heart was hammering by the time I hit the landing. I barely had a chance to catch my breath before someone grabbed my wrist.

  I stifled my scream with my free hand.

  “I didn’t think you would come.”

  I stared at Lincoln’s perfect face and questioned every single decision I’d made for the last month.

  He was the heir to this grand estate. I was the help, at least for today. This couldn’t be more cliché if we’d tried.

  “I can’t do this.”

  His gaze intensified. “Stop.”

  I held up my hand to silence him when the treads on the stairs creaked. “Someone’s coming,” I whispered.

  Lincoln wove his fingers into mine and pulled me down the hallway to the right. There were so many doors, but he knew exactly where he was going. He pushed open the fifth on the left and shut it behind us.

  “Didn’t you hear me? I said I can’t do this. Not here. We’re in your parents’ house.”

  His lips skimmed my collarbone. “Technically, it’s my grandfather’s house.”

  “Minor detail. Also, I’m working.”

  He pressed a kiss on my hammering pulse. “No, you’re on a break because I haven’t gotten to see you in a week and I’ve fucking missed you. What were you doing that had you so busy?”

  He missed me. I hated that I loved hearing those words so much, but I couldn’t deny the tendrils of warmth snaking through me.

  “Working. Saving up money. That’s what normal people do.”

  “There’s nothing normal about you.” Before I could sputter an outraged retort, he continued. “You’re extraordinary. Incredible. The most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”

  “You just want to get laid.” I rolled my eyes, even as I soaked up the compliments.

  Lincoln pulled away and his hazel gaze intensified. “That’s not what this is about.”

  I tilted my head to the left. “Really? So if I told you we weren’t having sex anymore, you’d be totally okay with it?”

  “No. But it’s not just about the sex. It’s you and me and the fact that spending time with you is the best pa
rt of my day, week, month, and fucking year. You make me smile and laugh and enjoy life. I didn’t want to come back to Gable. I didn’t want to make a life here. But you changed that.”

  Sometimes I hated that he was so sweet, and that the things he said turned my barriers to rubble before I could reinforce them. Whatever argument I was planning to make faded away as I ran my fingers through his dark hair and tugged his mouth to mine.

  “Just kiss me. I missed you too.”

  His eyes lit up at my admission. It was the first time I’d said anything like that.

  “Fucking finally.”

  His lips crashed against mine, and I got lost in the kiss. I twined one leg around his hip and pressed against him. My nipples peaked against my bra, and I wanted him.

  Even though I told myself how much I hated the forbidden aspect of our meetings, there was something about it that was undeniably hot. The thought of getting caught terrified me, but it also increased the urgency a thousand times over.

  Lincoln’s palm slid along my hip and beneath my cut-off shorts. “Fuck. No panties today?”

  My cheeks heated with embarrassment because now I had to admit that I wanted him to touch me like this in his parents’ house. That I wanted this to happen. That it couldn’t fit into my dirty fantasies about him more perfectly than if I’d planned it myself.

  As his fingers skimmed my wet lips, he groaned. “Fuck me. I was just going to tease you. Get you as worked up as I am, and then meet you tonight. But there’s no fucking way I’m letting you leave this room without sinking my cock into this little wet pussy.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to say we can’t, but the words wouldn’t come.

  “We have to hurry,” I said instead.

  Lincoln lifted me off my feet and carried me across the room. I was too busy working my lips across his chiseled jawline to do more than notice the masculine interior of the room.

  “I’ve wanted you in my bed since that first night. I’ve never been with anyone here.”

  I lifted my eyes to his face. “Ever?”

  “Never. Only you. And it feels so fucking right.”

  He pressed me against the bed, and even though I knew this was a terrible idea, I couldn’t help but agree—it felt so right.

  “Hurry. We have to hurry. I need you.”

  Lincoln bowed to my demands and quickly stripped and donned the condom as I tugged off my shorts. He nudged my knees wider apart and slid the head of his cock along my wetness.

  “You still have to meet me tonight. I want to go slow. Take my time. I hate rushing with you. You deserve better.”

  At that moment, I’d say anything he wanted to hear, and promising to meet him again was no hardship.

  “Yes.”

  He pushed inside, and my body stretched to accommodate his size. I kept expecting the next time to be less incredible than the last, but somehow it never was. It was like Lincoln was on a mission to keep me addicted to him, and he was winning on every level.

  When he thumbed my clit, I bit down on his shoulder to muffle my instinctive scream. My biting didn’t turn him off, though. It had the opposite effect. He turned wild, fucking into me like a man possessed. My orgasm crashed into me, and my body clamped down hard on him. When Lincoln came, he didn’t muffle his yell. The roar filled the room, and I froze beneath him.

  Oh. Fuck.

  “Lincoln!” I whisper-yelled his name. “Someone had to hear that.”

  “Fuck,” he said under his breath and dropped his forehead against mine. “I’m tired of hiding, Blue. Tired of sneaking around. I wish we could just—”

  I kissed him to silence his words. “We don’t have a choice.”

  He lifted his head again. “We always have a choice. Sometimes I wish we’d get caught and that would take the decision out of both our hands.”

  “Don’t you dare say—”

  “Lincoln? Are you okay?” a woman said from outside the door as she knocked. “I heard you yell.”

  “Please tell me you locked the—”

  Before I could finish my plea, the door burst open and she stepped inside. Her eyes locked onto mine and recognition hit her face in less than a second. Mine followed a moment later.

  Mrs. Riscoff.

  “Lincoln Bates Roosevelt Riscoff, what is she—I can’t—”

  Lincoln grabbed the comforter and threw it over us. “Mother, leave now.”

  “That Gable whore’s daughter? You can’t possibly be—”

  “Mother, I suggest you don’t say another word. Whitney is my—”

  Mrs. Riscoff’s face paled before she made a choking sound and groaned. She stumbled two steps backward before clutching her arm and then her chest.

  “Help,” she mumbled before she fell against the wall and slid down until she hit the floor.

  “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

  Lincoln levered off me and whipped on his pants before rushing to his mother’s side.

  “Mother. Mother. Hang on.” He turned back to me. “Call 911.”

  22

  Whitney

  Present day

  Sweet Jesus. Not again.

  Gabi’s eye-shadow palette clatters to the floor as I jump out of the chair and rush to the hallway, my robe flapping open. I yank it shut as I slide to a stop next to McKinley Riscoff, who is on her knees beside her mother.

  “Call 911!” She says it again, this time to a passing worker who pulls out her cell phone to dial. “Mother, please stay with me.”

  “Oh God. This is bad,” Gabi whispers from behind me, and she’s absolutely right.

  I have to get the hell out of here. Last time, I was certain Mrs. Riscoff was faking it, and I was wrong.

  “Get her out of here.”

  Mrs. Riscoff’s raspy voice sends shivers down my spine. As much as I don’t like this woman, I wouldn’t wish death on anyone. All I can do is comply with her wishes and disappear.

  I turn and run for the locker room to grab my clothes and find my aunt. I don’t want to be on Riscoff property for one second longer than I have to be.

  I knew coming here was a terrible idea.

  Aunt Jackie finds me in the locker room before I can go looking for her.

  “What’s going on? We got the alert for a medical emergency, and one of my housekeepers saw you running in here.”

  “Mrs. Riscoff. She saw me. She collapsed.”

  My aunt’s face blanches, and I know exactly what she’s thinking before she says it.

  “Good Lord. Not again.”

  That day at the Riscoff estate, Jackie, her two other employees, and I were escorted to the gate and kicked off the property without being paid.

  It didn’t take long for everyone in town to find out what happened. Jackie’s cleaning business slowed to almost nothing when word got around about what I’d done. At least, her normal business slowed down. All of a sudden, she was inundated with requests by men to clean houses when their wives were out of town. Because they all thought her niece wasn’t picky about sleeping with clients.

  “Sylvia hardly ever comes here. Ms. Riscoff made that clear, and she hired me anyway. I never thought—”

  With shaking hands, I pull on my shorts and slip my shirt over my head. “I shouldn’t have come home. This is just another disaster in the making.”

  “At least she didn’t catch you in bed with her son. Seeing that a second time might’ve actually killed her.”

  I cringe as I shove my feet into sandals. “Please, don’t remind me. I need to get out of here. I . . . I can’t stick around to see what happens.”

  Jackie nods and pulls her car keys out of her pocket. “Go. I’ll catch a ride home with someone. You don’t need to come back to pick me up.”

  I can read between the lines. Jackie doesn’t want me coming back here while she’s responsible for me. I can’t blame her. I never want to come back.

  Then I remember Cricket’s wedding.

  “What am I going to tell Cricket? I can’t—” />
  Jackie shakes her head. “We’re not going to worry about that now. Just go. We’ll figure it out later.”

  I take her keys and rush out of the locker room, hoping like hell I don’t see anyone else who might recognize me on the way out.

  As if I could be so lucky.

  23

  Lincoln

  My sister’s words repeat in my head as I bolt for the private exit from my office.

  “The ambulance is coming. Mother had another episode with her heart. It happened after she saw Whitney Gable in the spa.”

  It’s like the past repeating itself, and part of me wonders if it’s real or fake this time. A good son would take the information at face value, but after years of my mother’s manipulations, I find it difficult to give her the benefit of the doubt.

  Her cardiac episode ten years ago triggered by seeing Whitney and me together was real, according to the family’s doctor. This one? Fuck, who knows.

  Her hatred of the Gable family will never die.

  I reach the parking garage and jump in my Range Rover and haul ass out of the lot, tires squealing, barely waiting for the barrier to open completely. Two minutes later, I reach the resort road and take the back entrance. The sensor in my SUV triggers the gate.

  I fly up to the front and slam on the brakes before throwing it into park and jumping out to head for the employee entrance.

  The door flies open and a dark-haired woman rushes out, not looking where she’s going. She slams into my chest.

  “I’m so sorry—” She looks up, and it’s another punch to the gut.

  “Whitney.”

  All the blood drains from her face. “I swear I didn’t do anything. I didn’t. I—”

  My instincts kick into overdrive, and I wrap my arms around her. “Shhh, Blue. You didn’t do anything. I know it’s not your fault.”

  Her entire body shakes in my hold. “She hates me so much. I should never have come home.”