Had she just imagined that? Maybe her mind was preying on her, trying to make her worst fears come to life.
“Wh-what are you doing?” she managed to choke out.
“Sleeping,” he said, with another yawn.
Before she could say anything else, the voice sounded out again. And it was most definitely feminine.
The whisper of the words “back to bed” drifted over to her. Then Sam said something she couldn’t make out, his words muffled as if he held his hand over the receiver.
Her heart stuttered as the truth smacked her in the face. There was no mistaking it.
Sam was in bed. With another woman.
Sudden pain wrenched her chest, stealing the breath from her lungs. She doubled over at the unexpected agony.
What the hell?
“Hey,” Sam said into the receiver. “Can I call you back in a little bit?”
After his girl du jour left, he meant? Did he really think she was that desperate? Or maybe he wanted to wait until his latest conquest left before explaining to Diane that he didn’t want to see her any more.
Well, he could save it.
“I-I gotta go,” she all but garbled out, then hit the End button so he wouldn’t hear the angry cry that tore from her mouth next.
Half numb with shock, she stared at the screen. At Sam’s name, right on the recent calls list. The letters danced in front of her wavering vision, all but mocking her.
With a loud growl, she rose onto her knees and threw the phone hard across the room. It hit the opposite wall and broke apart, the case and battery hitting the ground with a resounding thump.
If only that had been his head, the bastard.
How could he? How could he move on to the next girl just like that? They’d had sex last night, for god’s sake! It had been one of the best experiences of her life. And how long afterward had he waited before finding someone else? A few hours?
Minutes?
Grabbing her pillow, she punched it hard to alleviate the anger pulsing in her veins, but it was no use. No manner of imagining it was Sam helped.
“I hate him.” She gave the pillow a few more thwacks. “I hate him!”
But that wasn’t true, was it? Quite the opposite in fact.
Much as she’d tried to deny it, she’d been falling for him from the moment he’d sat down beside her and suggested she try her naughty side out on him.
“I suck.” She couldn’t even do bad right. Bad girls weren’t supposed to care. They weren’t supposed to fall in love. Time to face the truth: when it came to being bad, she was an utter failure.
Her anger gave way to the sorrow that had been building beneath the surface. Abandoning her attempt to tear her pillow apart, she collapsed back onto the bed and gave in to the tears blurring her vision.
She didn’t know what she’d been thinking. That they would somehow find themselves in a relationship, the Playboy and the Repressed Daddy’s Girl? It was laughable.
He’d been blunt about it from the start. This was a hookup, nothing more. Hell, she’d even agreed with him at the time.
But still, if it had been nothing more, how could he have looked at her like that? Held her that way? Like he could never get enough. Like he never wanted to let go.
The way he’d acted this past week, it had made her question everything between them. Made her fall for him. So even if he had never made any promises, one thing was still clear.
“Sam Everly is an asshole.”
And she…
Sniffling, Diane wiped at the river of tears streaming down her cheeks.
Apparently, she was a total fool.
***
His brain still foggy from the unexpected wakeup call combined with the apparent vat of liquor he’d drowned in last night, Sam stared blankly at his phone. The way Diane had sounded before she’d hung up set off a chorus of warning bells inside his head, but it was taking too long for his mind to catch up.
Something was clearly wrong. What was it?
He shifted on Zoey’s couch, where he’d slept off his high for the past several hours. It wasn’t the most comfortable of sleeping places, but he could’ve slept on the floor last night and been none the wiser.
“So?” Zoey called from across the countertop separating her kitchen from the living room.
“So, what?”
She gave a beleaguered sigh and stumbled over to the refrigerator door in her blue and white striped pajamas. “Do you want some coffee, or are you going back to bed?”
Just then it clicked. His heart clenched and he shot up into a seated position. “Oh, shit.”
Zoey snatched the jug of milk and slammed the door shut, turning to eye him curiously. “What?”
He furiously thumbed through his phone, pulling up Diane’s number and dialing it. “That was Diane. She hung up on me. I think she might have overhead you and thought the worst.”
It took a second for Zoey to catch his drift. Once she did, she cringed. “Oops.”
The phone gave one short dial before going to Diane’s voicemail. Cursing, he hung up and dialed again, but got the same result.
Sam’s heart sank as he considered what Diane might be thinking right now. Dropping the phone, he raked a hand through his hair. “It’s going straight to her voicemail.”
“That’s not good.” Zoey’s lips twisted into a frown as she came around the counter and into the living room. “You really think she might believe you hooked up with someone else last night?”
He wanted to say no. Damn, did he ever. But he’d made no promises. And the way he’d left things last night…
Man, he’d all but shoved her into that cab in his haste to get away from her. Combine that with her viewpoint on his bad boy reputation, and it added up to a whole heap of trouble.
“Shit.” He swiped his shaky palms over his eyes to clear his blurry vision. “I fucked up, big time. I have to go see her.”
Zoey nodded her head resolutely. “Yes, you do.”
He stood and began to search out his socks and shoes.
“One bit of advice before you go?” Zoey wrinkled her nose. “Shower first. You reek of alcohol.”
Zoey had a point. Considering that, for the first time in his life, he was going to tell a girl he’d fallen for her, a shower was definitely in order. He could afford the two extra minutes it took.
He hoped.
“Good call.” With those words, Sam raced toward Zoey’s bathroom.
Chapter Seventeen
Diane indulged in a half hour of tears and self-pity before forcing herself to rise from her bed and step into the shower. She grabbed her bath sponge and scrubbed her skin until it was raw, all the while angrily admonishing herself.
Look at you. You’re pathetic.
The whole reason she’d started her Bad Girl To-Do list was to empower herself. And instead, what was the first thing she’d gone and done? Only the stupidest thing a girl could do: fallen for the stereotypical bad boy. Just think how disappointed her mother would be to hear that.
She had to stop feeling sorry for herself. Chalk this whole experience up to a harsh lesson learned.
Maybe her father had been onto something when he’d tried to set her up with Andrew. There had been no spark between them, but if Sam had taught her anything, it was that attraction would only lead to heartache.
From now on, she’d leave the naughtiness to those who could handle the consequences. As for herself, she’d go back to being plain old, boring Diane. At least that Diane didn’t get hurt.
With that resolution firmly in mind, she finished up in the shower and searched out a drab heavy knit sweater and pair of slacks. Maybe she’d head over to the art museum for a few hours. Call up Angela and see if she wanted to meet for lunch. What she wasn’t going to do was mope around the house, even if it was Saturday.
She headed downstairs and started toward the kitchen for an apple, when she came face-to-face with none other than her father.
“Oh, Dian
e,” Daniel said, lifting one brow. “Glad to see you up and about so early on a Saturday.”
The note of approval in his tone would have been funny if she’d been in a better mood.
“Thanks,” she murmured.
“Join me for breakfast?”
He motioned toward their massive dining room, where he ate every morning. Personally, she hated the room. It was large and stiff, and she tried to spend as little time there as possible outside of the occasional dinners she had with her father. But she couldn’t think of a good reason to say no. Besides, wasn’t this the main reason she’d moved to New York City, to spend more time with her father?
Funny how the prospect wasn’t so exciting now that she’d gotten to know him a little better.
She followed her father into the dining room, where she proceeded to sit while Anita, the on-staff cook, carried in several trays of breakfast items and assembled a plate with all her favorite foods.
“Thanks, Anita.” She smiled at the elderly Hispanic lady who’d worked for her father for several years.
“De nada.” Anita leaned in to murmur, “Are you okay, mija? You seem…sad.”
Leave it to her to notice, instead of Diane’s father.
She gave Anita another shaky smile. “I’m good.”
Daniel waited until Anita had left to comment, “You do look a bit tired, dear. Did you not get enough sleep last night?”
“Not really,” she mumbled.
“Perhaps you should take a rest later.” Moving seamlessly on from that topic, he said, “I have a meeting with my accountant in the afternoon. I expect to hear that our profits from investments increased by at least twenty percent over the past year.”
Just like that, he was back to business. Go figure.
Diane tried her best to appear interested in his conversation. But before she could summon up a response, she heard a commotion from just outside the closed door leading out into the hallway.
Daniel’s brow wrinkled and he swiveled his head toward the sound of the two voices arguing. “What in the worl—”
The door burst open, and much to Diane’s shock, a very disheveled Sam stalked inside. Hot on his heels was Daniel’s housekeeper, Miriam.
“I told you, you can’t just barge in here,” she was yelling at Sam.
“The hell I can’t,” he mumbled, looking around the room.
His eyes landed on Diane, and a look of relief overtook him.
What the hell?
Frozen in her spot, Diane could do no more than stare at him. His leather jacket was only half zipped and his hair was standing straight on end as if he hadn’t bothered combing it. He hadn’t bothered shaving, either.
In fact, he was still wearing the same damn clothes from last night.
A burst of anger had her straightening her spine. How dare he come in here looking like he’d just left the bed of whatever skank he’d ended up with last night?
Before she could ask him that very thing, her father plunked his fork and spoon onto his plate with a loud clatter. “Sam Everly? What on earth is the meaning of this?”
“No offense, Mr. Milstrom. But I’m here to see Diane,” Sam said calmly.
Diane’s hands clenched into fists. How could he stand there so nonchalantly after what he’d done?
“I’m s-sorry, sir,” Miriam stuttered. “I told him you were having breakfast in here, and he just rushed past me before—”
“I understand, Miriam,” Daniel cut in sharply. “You’re excused.”
She gave a relieved nod and, after one last fearful glance between him and Sam, raced from the room.
Daniel turned back to Sam. “What business could you possibly have with my daughter?”
Sam slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “That’s between me and her.”
Her father turned to her and, when he saw the thinly veiled anger on her face, his own grew incredulous. “Diane? Surely you’re not involved with him? I know you would never be interested in someone so childish.”
For some reason, those words on top of her fury at the sight of Sam’s face, broke the last vestiges of her self-control.
“How could you possibly know that?” she snapped. “You don’t know a thing about me.”
Her father’s expression grew flabbergasted. “Well, I—”
Cutting him off, she said to Sam, “What are you doing here?”
“I’d like to talk to you. Alone,” he added.
“What for,” she said without bothering to disguise the coldness in her tone. “I think it’s pretty clear where things are between us.”
A flash of heat sparked in his eyes. “I think you’re wrong. That’s why I want to talk to you.” When she didn’t immediately respond, he added a soft, “Please.”
Something in that last word, some glimmer of desperation in his eyes, prompted her to reluctantly say, “Fine.”
But they certainly wouldn’t be speaking in front of her father, whose face was so red he looked like he might be having a stroke.
“Excuse me,” she said to her father. Without waiting for a response, she rose and stalked past Sam, then out of the room and down the hall. She didn’t stop until they were almost to the doors leading out into the courtyard.
Diane turned to see Sam hot on her tail, as she’d expected he would be. Although he looked like he’d barely slept a wink—the bastard—he still looked like his deliciously masculine self. Still had that undeniable force of life that had held her under his sway these past few weeks.
A twinge of pain clenched her heart, but she hardened herself against it. Crossing her arms over her chest, she said, “What do you want?”
“I…” He stopped several feet in front of her, his hands sliding out of his pockets to reach toward her. But then, apparently sensing just how little she wanted his hands on her right now, he stopped. They fell loosely to his sides, and his face grew uncertain. “The way I left things last night, it wasn’t right.”
So that was why he was here? He felt bad about how he’d ended things?
“Don’t worry about it,” she bit out. “I’m a big girl. I’ll survive.”
“No, you…” He sighed and raked a hand through his messy hair. “I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never had to before.”
He looked so miserable that she almost felt sorry for him. But then she remembered what he’d been doing last night, and the misery morphed into perverse satisfaction. Hell, as far as she was concerned, the more he suffered, the better.
“Spit it out, or get out.”
That flash of heat marred his features once more, and this time he grabbed her shoulders. “I wasn’t with anyone else last night.”
Her immediate instinct to pull away died when his words penetrated. “What?”
Sam frowned down at her. “Do you really think I could be with another woman hours after I was inside you?” When she opened her mouth, he gave a dejected sigh. “No, never mind. Don’t answer that.”
Confusion raced through her as she stared up at him.
He shook his head slowly. “I guess it’s what I deserve for not being straight with you from the very beginning. My only defense is that I didn’t realize it myself.”
Scoffing, she said, “You’re not making any sense.”
He gave a wry chuckle and shook her slightly. “Don’t you get it, Diane? I’m falling for you. Hard. And it scares the shit out of me.”
His words shot into her and her eyes went wide.
“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.” His stormy blue eyes locked on hers, as if willing her to believe him. “I didn’t know how to react. I-I freaked out, babe. I’m sorry.”
Oh god, he sounded sincere. And she wanted to believe him. So, so badly.
“But…” She licked her lips. “Is that why you practically ran away from me last night?”
“That, and…” He frowned. “Andrew saw us together. He figured things out.”
She sucked in a breath. “Did he—?”
“He’s okay with it.” Sam let out a low laugh. “In fact, he thought we might be good for each other.”
“Wow.” Not that she’d imagined Andrew would care enough to be upset about her and Sam hooking up, but it was quite a shock to hear he thought they might actually be good together.
“When he told me that, I guess it all just hit me at once.” Sam’s hands slid down her shoulders, caressing her arms. “I hadn’t let myself think about it while we were hooking up. Told myself it was just sex—really, really good sex.”
A soft, reluctant laugh escaped her.
Sam’s lips quirked upward. “But the truth is, I was falling for you the whole time, babe.”
The sound of his voice reverberated through her chest, sparking a song of light and hope in her heart. His words were more than she could have ever hoped to hear, but they still didn’t account for where he’d been last night. And even though he’d said there was no other woman, she knew what she’d heard.
“So…” She took a shaky breath and forced herself to ask her next question, even though she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer. “Where did you go after I got into the cab last night?”
“Beringer’s.” His palm slid up to her cheek, then back through her hair. “I was hoping I could drink myself into forgetting how I felt about you. Instead, I almost drank myself into a coma.”
Beringer’s. That was so much better than what she’d imagined. And in fact, now that he’d said it, there was no missing the distinct smell of liquor wafting from his pores, or the red rim around his eyes that indicated a hard night of drinking.
“I was talking to Zoey and she made me realize how I feel. I tried to leave right then and there to come and talk to you.” His lips gave a wry twist. “But I barely took a step before almost falling on my ass.”
She laughed at the imagery, while happy little butterflies danced in her stomach.
“So she took me back to her place instead.” When Diane’s smile started to die, he quickly added, “Where I slept on her couch.”
Whew. Good. She didn’t know Zoey well, but she’d always found her rather likeable. It would have been a shame if she’d had to kill her.
[EB03] Bad Girls Do Page 16
