Filthy Rich

by Virna DePaul

  “I want to do something,” she said. “But first, I need you to call Lee.”

  —

  As Branden listened to Cara’s plan, he had to admit it was a good one; it was a long shot, yet posed no real physical risk to either of them. But if it backfired, there would be no going back—she would have handed the enemy the means to destroy her professional reputation and personal peace of mind. The fact that she was even willing to consider it made him realize just how much he did mean to her. She’d sacrifice everything she’d worked for in life rather than risk him being harmed.

  When she was done with her explanations, he shook his head. “No. I can’t let you do it, Cara. I know how much your privacy and reputation mean to you. We’ll think of something else.”

  “There is no other way. Please, call Lee. Trust me the way you’ve always asked me to trust you. Let me prove to you and myself that I’m strong, and that I’m not going to let my fears control me any longer. That I’m not going to let someone terrorize me and stop me from finally having what I want.”

  “And what is it you want, Cara Michal?”

  She smiled wide. “I want you, Branden Duke.”

  He hesitated. Read the certainty and clarity in her gaze. Then he picked up his phone. “And I want you. I always will.” He dialed Lee’s number.

  “Lee. Are you at D&M? Good. Because I need you to do something important for me. You listening?”

  After he hung up with Lee, Branden watched as Cara walked to her dresser and opened up the laptop. She pointed it so the screen faced the bed. Then she bent down and stared into the screen.

  “You want to play games?” she taunted. “Let’s play. Because you’re not in control here. You said I couldn’t have Branden? Well, you’re wrong, and I’m going to show you how wrong. You’ve been creating fake videos of us. Now you can watch us firsthand. Record us. Do what you want with the video. You’re nothing. You’ll always be nothing. And most of all, you’re no threat to us.”

  —

  When Cara turned away from the camera, Branden stood beside her. His mouth crashed down on hers and he kissed her, deeply and passionately. His tongue found hers as he stripped off her pants, leaving her standing with her back to the laptop, her bottom covered only by silver panties.

  Decent, but barely.

  Cara tried not to focus on the fact that a creep might be staring at her almost-bare ass. The fact that Branden’s kiss was getting deeper and his hands were running possessively across her lower back made it easier to forget.

  He grabbed her then, and suddenly tore open the buttons on her shirt, sending them flying across the room. Then he used the shirt to pull her forward against his chest and kiss her again. He pulled back and stared at her, his expression one of pure, unadulterated, animal lust. His chest heaved as he quickly unbuttoned his own shirt and shoved down his pants, keeping his boxers on. While he undressed, she shrugged her shirt the rest of the way off, leaving her bra on.

  Less decent, but still covered.

  He spun her around so they were in the same position they’d been in in that first CGI-enhanced video, with her back against his bare chest and his hands cupping her breasts. Unlike the CGI-enhanced video, however, she was clothed enough—if the creep did end up publicizing this video, she’d be able to rely on that, at least.

  Branden growled against her neck. They may be faking it for the video, but Branden’s response to her body was real—of that she was confident. She felt his throbbing erection pressing against her lower back. She arched her back and stretched her neck, giving access to his searching lips, teeth, and tongue.

  Each lick and nibble sent a fresh jolt of electricity shooting down her spine, all the way to her toes. He kissed a trail of hot breath and cool tongue down her neck to her collarbone. Flipping her back to him, he began to work his way down her chest.

  He raised his head, looked into her eyes, and said, “You’re mine, Cara.”

  He stroked her face, then leaned in close to her ear. “He’s had enough visual for now, don’t you think?” He tore his shirt off, then threw it, as if casually tossing it aside, but instead making sure it landed on the laptop.

  Now the creep could hear them, but not see them.

  Even as they were setting up the man, Branden was protecting her.

  And she loved it.

  “I want you, Cara,” he said harshly.

  “I need you, Branden,” she said in response. A simple statement, but one that carried weight. That held meaning.

  He turned until he faced her laptop.

  “Nothing,” he said, repeating her earlier words. “And no one. No one will take this from us, Cara. I’ll fucking kill anyone who tries.”

  Then he strode to the laptop and slammed the lid down. He immediately returned to Cara, sat on the bed, and kissed her temple. Pushing back her hair, he held her gaze. “I wasn’t just playing for an audience, Cara. I meant every word I said.”

  She felt a wave of pleasure, bordering on orgasmic, at the sound of his words. Unable to stop herself, she kissed her way down his chest, stopping to lick both of his nipples before allowing her mouth to travel lower to its intended destination. He was still wearing his boxers, and she nuzzled her face against the soft cotton, causing his cock to twitch and jump violently.

  As she kissed the head of his cock through the cotton material, she ran her hand up his thigh and into the bottom of his boxers. Her hand carefully found his testicles and she began to tug and roll them slightly between her fingers. Branden moaned as she wrapped her other hand tightly around the shaft of his cock while her mouth continued to nuzzle him.

  Finally, she grabbed the waistband of his underwear and jerked it down. She immediately found his cock with her anxious mouth and sucked it in, taking it all the way to the back of her throat. She still had a hand wrapped around it, jerking as she licked the underside then swirled around the head of it with her tongue before sucking it all the way back in. She slid her mouth down to his balls and took one into her mouth. She used her mouth and tongue to gently massage it and then she moved to the other one.

  “Oh, my sweet girl!”

  While she pleasured him with her mouth, she dragged her fingernails across his chest and stomach and down to his thighs. She kept eye contact with him the entire time. She loved watching the pure, raw emotion on his face when he was in the throes of passion. He was usually so controlled, but not when she had her lips on his cock.

  Cara could feel him twitching and swelling in her mouth. The muscles in his legs were tense, and she knew he was getting close even before he pulled her up by her shoulders and kissed her. He swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed, where he stripped her completely.

  He laid her on her back with her legs hanging off the side. Kneeling between them, he lapped at her swollen, aching clit, then nibbled on it gently. She felt her orgasm starting in her toes and she gasped for breath as it worked its way up. She squeezed Branden’s head between her thighs as she let out a little scream. Wave after wave of glorious orgasm rushed through her, but Branden didn’t stop. He rode out the orgasm, continuing to lick and suck until he’d wrung every last drop of response from her.

  When she’d calmed, he cupped her bottom and shifted her higher on the bed. She saw him slip on the condom. Once he had the length of his throbbing erection covered, he draped her knees over his strong biceps and, still standing, plunged his cock into her. He moaned loudly, beginning to thrust quickly at first and then slowing down to keep them both on the very edge. As he moved in and out of her, he stared into her eyes. They rocked like that for a long time, both of them enjoying the simple pleasure of being connected.

  Nothing else mattered. The rest of the world disappeared.

  Cara licked her suddenly dry lips and said, “I’m yours, Branden. And you’re mine. Nothing can change that. Nothing.”

  Branden froze, then he began thrusting harder. Faster. His head was thrown back and his breaths were so ragged they could h
ardly be doing him any good. Cara had to grab hold of the comforter and hold on tight as he bent down and gave her all he had.

  “Come again for me, angel,” he moaned. “Now. Come with me.”

  Her body exploded at his command, and then he stiffened and shook, groaning with his own release.

  Moments later, he covered her mouth with his and cupped her face so he could stare into her eyes. There was an intense desire reflected in their depths. A feral gleam of possession. Even so, when he kissed her, he did it softly.

  Cherishing what he held in his arms. Acting with the implicit intention to protect what was his.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Branden pulled the sheet over Cara so she was covered. He smiled, placed a soft kiss on her lips, then said, “We should get dressed. I want to be prepared for anything when Lee calls me back.”

  Cara nodded and slid out of bed. Swiftly, they dressed.

  According to their plan, several of Lee’s men were supposed to watch from the D&M building’s security room and notify Lee, who would be waiting outside with more men, if anyone in the office, in particular Rafe Sampson or Larry Gills, suddenly became agitated or upset. In any event, if such person left and headed to Cara’s building, he or she was to be detained.

  When they were dressed, Branden checked in with the bodyguard outside.

  “No sign of trouble,” he said when he returned. “But Howe’s on red alert, as is the security guard downstairs.”

  She felt a sudden chill and rubbed her arms. “My God. I feel so helpless here. Trapped.”

  Branden pulled her in for a hug. “You’re not trapped. You’re safe. And until we figure out what the hell is going on, that’s how you’re going to stay.”

  After holding her close for several minutes, Branden pulled away to look out her living room window. He examined the street below, then drew the shades. The tension in the air was palpable, the dim lighting symbolic of the pall that had overtaken them. They alternately sat or paced until Cara burst out laughing.

  Branden looked at her, his expression wary.

  “We don’t even know if anyone saw our little show. We can’t just sit here watching the clock wondering when Lee will call.” She stood, turned on the lights in the kitchen, and took out her frying pan. “Did I ever tell you I make a mean batch of pancakes?”

  He smiled. “I didn’t know that about you.”

  “There’s probably a whole lot you don’t know about me. Why don’t we use this time together to fix that? Ask me anything you want.”

  He cocked a brow. “Anything, huh?”

  “Yep.” She pulled a box of pancake mix from a cabinet, and eggs and milk from the fridge. She started prepping and mixing, and Branden moved to the counter and sat on one of the bar stools, facing her.

  “Okay. When did you—”

  His phone rang and when he looked at it, he tensed. “It’s Lee.”

  She swallowed hard and turned off the burner on the stove.

  “Talk to me,” Branden said.

  As Lee spoke, Branden’s expression morphed from concentration to understanding to disbelief. “Right. Is Deena there?” He nodded. “Okay, I’ll be there right away.”

  He disconnected the call and locked eyes with Cara. “Larry Gills. Do you know him?”

  “I’ve met him. He’s a trader. Older…Oh, God. Is it him?”

  Branden’s jaw ticked. “Deanna suspected that Rafe Sampson was using him to orchestrate some shady deals. Setting him up to take the fall. We’ve been waiting, trying to find what we needed to take down Sampson and possibly clear Gills. Lee said about ten minutes ago Gills lost it. Started shouting and throwing things around in his office. He’s barricaded himself inside and he keeps screaming, ‘It’s not supposed to be this way,’ over and over again.”

  “What about Sampson?”

  “He never showed up to work today. Mike is trying to track him down even as we speak, and he’s got the help of NYC’s finest at his disposal.”

  “So Gills…you think our plan worked? That he was watching us? That he’s the one that’s been doing all this? Why?”

  “He probably suspected he was being investigated. Thought to use you as a bargaining tool, which is why he’s asking for me now. To bargain. The police are there, but Gills says he has a gun.”

  “A gun? What about the others in the office—are they safe?” Gail’s and Tammie’s faces charged into her mind. What if something had happened to them? She’d resisted getting too close to the women for so long, thinking only to protect her own emotional vulnerability. How wrong she’d been.

  “Everyone’s safe—no one’s been hurt. And Gills swears all he wants is to talk to me.”

  “And you’re just going to go? No. It doesn’t even make sense. He has to know there’s nothing you can do to help him. He broke laws!”

  “The guy’s obviously not thinking straight, but I need to get over there, Cara.”

  “Branden, he has a gun—”

  “And I won’t do anything stupid. I’ll be careful. Listen to the police. But if I can defuse the situation by talking to him, I have to try.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  Branden shook his head. “I don’t want you to be part of that ugly scene, and if Gills knows you’re there, it might just agitate him further. He might demand to see you. There’s no way I’m letting that happen. I want you safe. In my penthouse. Howe will stay with you, but the security in my building is a hundred times better than your place.”

  “Okay. But, Branden…” She grabbed his arms. “I—I—”

  He covered her mouth with his. When he pulled back, he ran his knuckles down her cheek. “No worries, Cara. I’m wealthy, but I wasn’t truly rich until I found you. No way am I letting anything get in the way of you cooking me those pancakes and telling me more about yourself. Then we’re going on that beach vacation. Understood?”

  “Understood,” she whispered.

  —

  After taking Cara to his penthouse apartment and making sure she was secure there, Branden made his way to D&M. All the employees had been sent home and the floors had been evacuated. The only people on site were the police, Lee and four of his men, Deena, and now Branden.

  “Any news on Sampson?” Branden asked Deena.

  “Not yet. Something must have tipped him off. Mike’s tracking him down now. I’m wondering if he called Gills. Warned him and that’s what set him off.”

  Branden didn’t say anything about the trap he and Cara had laid for their stalker. Hopefully, there was no physical evidence of it and no one would ever have to find out.

  He jerked his head at Gills’s office door. “It’s quiet.”

  “He hasn’t responded for the past ten minutes. The police have been strategizing about forced entry. I convinced them to wait for you in case you can talk him out. We’ll tell him you’re here but that you’re going to call him to communicate from an internal line. Sound good?”

  “Sounds like it’s the best choice. ‘Good’ would be this over and me back with Cara.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “She will be. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Deena smiled. “I’ll enjoy getting to know her when she doesn’t think I’m a coldhearted bitch screwing around on my husband with you.” She fake shuddered. “As if.”

  “You can get to know her eventually,” Branden said. “But after this, I’m taking her away and spoiling her rotten, Duke style.”

  Deena smiled, then her expression sobered. “All right, big brother, let’s get this done.”

  They’d braced for a showdown of majestic proportions, but the reality of Gills’s surrender was relatively tame.

  A half hour later, the man was in custody. All it had taken was for Branden to get on the phone with him and Gills had immediately said he wanted a lawyer there to represent him before he came out. One of the best, he’d told Branden, as if he really trusted Branden to pick out good legal representation for him. Unsure what new gam
e Gills was playing but willing to go along so that he could get Gills contained and back to Cara as quickly as possible, Branden didn’t hesitate to contact a well-known defense attorney with a long list of various financiers—many convicted but some acquitted—as clients. Branden stayed, then watched as Gills was unarmed and carted away by NYPD in the company of his new lawyer.

  Branden wanted to interrogate Gills himself. Wanted to search his office and home in order to make sure anything that could embarrass or hurt Cara was destroyed. But he knew doing that would merely jeopardize the prosecution’s case against Gills and Sampson, giving them the means to cry entrapment or tainted evidence. So Branden did the next best thing. He contacted his own lawyer to work closely with the police and move for any protective orders necessary to ensure that anything found having to do with him and Cara was kept under seal.

  “Branden!”

  He turned at the sound of Deena’s voice. “Mike’s on his way back. Sampson is in custody,” she said. “Mike said Sampson cried like a baby when they stopped him at JFK and said enough to implicate both him and Gills. There’s more work to do at D&M, but at least those two have been stopped.”

  It was over. It was all over.

  And Cara was safe.

  Thank God.

  “Thanks for telling me. Can you handle things from here? Because I want to get back to Cara, and we’re both going to take a few days off.”

  “Go,” was all she said in return.

  Fifteen minutes later, Branden strolled through the vast lobby of his apartment building, detoured around the indoor grove of ficus trees, headed for the penthouse elevators, and jabbed at the elevator button.

  “Branden.”

  Branden turned to see Mike Gaunt standing beside him, a nylon duffel bag over his arm.

  “Mike. What are you doing here?”

  “I just missed you at the office. I wanted to talk to you about some concerns I have about Sampson.” He patted the bag. “I have new information on the investigation. I was thinking we could have a cup of coffee. I understand if you’d rather do that at the office, but Deena mentioned something about you taking vacation time.”