by Alexis Anne
I smiled sadly up at him, laughing. “And I used it against you.” I took that brotherly love and concern and twisted it into what I needed.
His face transformed from panic to confusion. “What?”
“When I seduced you against your will. I was using that care for my own benefit.”
His hands fell away. “You didn’t seduce me against my will.”
Another bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Oh really? Then what would you call what I did? I waited for you in your room, Darcy. Naked. And then I asked you to have sex with me.”
His eyes narrowed on mine. “Oh, you seduced the fuck out of me, but I guarantee none of it was against my will, darlin’.”
The look in his eyes…it was deadly. It was desire and need mixed with passion—just like the night in Edinburgh as he walked toward me in his bed—but that couldn’t be right.
“Then why were you so upset? Why did you send me away?”
That look smoldered in his eyes for several more beats before he banked it, relaxing and stepping back into the kitchen for his tea.
At first I stayed exactly where I was, watching him move, half expecting him to turn back around and pounce all over again. But then I realized Darcy was working through something and he wasn’t paying attention to me any longer.
So I slowly moved back to the counter and waited for his reply.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, staring at the counter as he spoke. “I was upset at myself, not you.”
Not me? “I don’t understand.”
He closed his eyes and his jaw ticked. “There’s something seriously fucked up with me.” He shook his head, finally looking up. “That night was a mistake for many reasons on both our parts, I’m sure. But it’s mine that was the problem. You seduced me, but I took advantage of you.”
“You didn’t take advantage of me,” I balked at the thought. “I came to you. That was my choice.” On my own for once. I wanted Darcy so I made a move…a fantastic move. A night I would never, ever forget.
And here he was telling me it was a mistake.
“And I wanted you!” he yelled, throwing out his arms. “I’ve always wanted you.” He shook his head, almost as if he couldn’t stop, his breath hard and his eyes wild. “For far longer than I should have.”
I’ve always wanted you.
That was why he kept me at arm’s length. Why he refused to acknowledge he cared for reasons beyond Theo.
“Darcy—”
He threw his hand up, cutting me off. “You were fourteen, Nicki. It was wrong.”
He always wanted me. Right from the beginning. “But I wanted you, too. How is that wrong?”
He looked at me as if I’d lost my mind, his shoulders sagging. “It was all wrong. You shouldn’t have wanted a man seven years older than you. A man with no clue how to keep his fucking life straight. And I should not have looked at a girl of your age and felt the things I felt.” He practically sneered those last words.
It cut as much as it exhilarated me. Yes, he was angry but yes, he also wanted me. “I’m not fourteen anymore, Darcy. I wasn’t fourteen when I seduced you. We did nothing wrong. And you’re not clueless.”
He laughed, closing his eyes and turning his head away from me. “I’m more clueless than ever. I just know it now.” He shook his head, leaning down toward the counter and growling. “Fuck. I can’t do this right now. No, you’re not a girl anymore, but it doesn’t change anything. We can’t be together. It will never work. I will never be good enough for you and neither will that asshole wanker your father fixed you up with. You need to walk the fuck away from both of our loser asses and find someone worthy of you.”
And then he grabbed his jacket and stormed out of my flat.
4
Darcy Higgins wanted me. And I wanted him.
We were a mess.
I pulled my knees up under my chin as I watched the dawn brighten the skyline outside my massive bedroom windows and contemplated whether any of this mattered.
Wanting and doing were two different things.
I’d pushed him too soon. I’d seduced the hell out of him and gotten what I wanted for all of an hour. Maybe if I hadn’t made such a desperate attempt he would have come to terms with the way he felt toward me. If I’d given him time to accept that I was an adult and his feelings were normal, maybe all of this would be different.
But I hadn’t and I’d taken his rejection badly. Looking back now I could see that my trip to Edinburgh had been a last ditch effort to save myself. I’d thought if I could just get Darcy to love me I could be whole. I could survive.
It hadn’t worked and when I returned to London I entered a death spiral, drowning myself in cocaine and heroin—anything to escape. What I could remember of those weeks haunted me every day. Just as they clearly haunted Darcy.
So that was one major, glaring problem.
And then there was the cold hard reality of real life. I was not a healthy person. Not then and not now. Every day it was a fight to keep my head above water. Last night was proof of that. I didn’t want to look at the canvases I’d thrown paint at. I definitely didn’t want to acknowledge how strong my craving for chemical relief had grown again.
I needed stability in my life. I needed peace.
Darcy was neither of those things. I loved him desperately but what good was that love if it destroyed me in the process? If giving my heart over to him ended in me falling apart?
There was a reason I was amenable to Father’s arrangement with Ian—it took my emotions out of the equation. I’d already proven that I couldn’t handle them. They were too big. I needed help to keep them under lock and key. Ian gave me my sanity even if it did come with a side of assholery.
In the past I would have let my frustration on a day like this pull me under. I would have spent my entire day in bed because I couldn’t move my limbs, like a weight was attached to every joint in my body and moving took more energy than I possessed. Instead I forced myself out. I put my emotions in my box and slid on my Nicole Sutherland costume. After a quick jog I showered and headed out to HDM2 to see Margaret.
“Nicki! What are you doing here?” She was back to her usual self: deep purple sheath dress with matching heels, hair perfectly twisted at the nape of her neck, and razor sharp focus in her eyes.
I wanted to be more like my friend.
“I need your help. If you have a few minutes?”
“Of course.” She shooed me into a chair and closed the office door. “What can I help you with?”
“I need a business plan.”
“You have a business plan.” She arched an eyebrow as she dropped into her large leather office chair.
“I have part of a business plan and no execution.”
“You’ve lost me.”
“Right now I’m just throwing out work. I’m painting and selling because I wanted to prove I could do it before I decided where to go next.” I realized Ian’s comment hurt so much because I wasn’t confident in my future outside of my arranged marriage. And the only way to develop that confidence was to develop a plan.
“And now you’re ready for what’s next?”
“Yes. Ian and Father have made sure that my show will sell out. I plan to take that money and set myself up to succeed no matter what happens next.”
She grinned, her eyes lighting up. “I like this. Beat these fuckers at their own game with their own money. However, I’m really not sure why you came to me. You’re the business genius.”
Not that a single member of my family understood that fact. “Collaboration. A plan is always better when you have someone else to bounce ideas off of.”
“So basically I sit here and nod unless you say something crazy? Because I’ve got to tell you Nicki, you don’t need me. You graduated second in your business class.”
I wanted to grab onto these moments when my spirit filled my lungs and for a few brief minutes I wasn’t paralyzed by the idea of failure.
“P
lease?”
“Of course,” she threw out her hands. “Hit me.”
* * *
I walked into Father’s dinner that night feeling bizarrely confident. I say bizarre because I wasn’t sure it was a feeling I’d ever felt before, nor should I ever. Confidence was not a quality I was supposed to posses.
And yet, as I stepped into the dining room in my black dress with my hair perfectly coiled into a very beautiful twist for our family dinner before the cocktail reception for Father’s inner circle, that was precisely how I felt.
With Margaret’s help I’d laid out a quiet but completely practical business plan. Over the next two years I would continue selling my art and appearing in prestigious shows, all while building an international set of contacts. Meanwhile I would come to these dinners. I would smile at Ian. I would be the picture of perfection while extending my engagement for as long as possible. Two years was manageable. I was young and we would have to hold the event of the century. Weddings of that nature typically took at least a year to plan and we weren’t technically engaged yet.
And then, when I was ready, I would disappear. My chance of successfully disappearing was probably fifty-fifty at best, but I was going to try. I had to try.
Theo slid in beside me the moment he saw me. “Beware of Michael,” he whispered in my ear.
I glanced past him to where our oldest brother was locked in a heated argument with Father.
“Shit.”
“Yeah,” Theo drawled. “This can’t go on much longer. Either Father is going to—”
“He would never.”
Theo shot me a look. “Of course he would. He’ll ruin Michael in a heartbeat if it means blackmailing him into compliance.” Which was precisely what he did to bring Theo home. “The other option is just as viable.”
I didn’t say anything to that because there was nothing to say. It was the unspeakable truth. If it came down to it, if Michael would not come into the family business, then he would have Michael killed. The only way out of the Duncan Boys was in a casket.
Period.
And with that thought, I was keenly reminded that my new plan was fifty percent genius, fifty percent a death sentence.
“I suppose he has to try,” I murmured as I watched Father’s jaw jut forward, a clear sign this argument was two seconds from being over.
“Then he’s an idiot for not learning from our mistakes.” Theo turned into me, leaning in to my ear. “You and I both failed miserably, but together…”
“Ah…so this is why you’re so compliant and happy. You honestly think there’s still a chance.” Theo must have a plan just like mine.
He froze. “I wouldn’t be up and walking around if I didn’t think that.”
We were the darkest optimists I’d ever met.
What was my brother planning? I’d missed so much by being off the radar these last two years. As I looked Theo over I had to wonder if I even knew this man standing before me. He looked like the boy I grew up with, but older, wiser.
“Nicole,” Ian purred behind me a split second before I felt his hand on my elbow.
Theo’s eyes shot up over my shoulder and went cold. “Ian. I didn’t know you were joining us for dinner.”
Ian pulled me into his side, rather forcefully I might add, and smiled. “Donald invited me. We have some things to discuss before the party and I haven’t seen Nicole all day.”
I cocked my head to the side, allowing him to drop a kiss on my cheek. “How was your day, darling?” There was a vibe coming off Ian I hadn’t sensed before. It was possessive and I didn’t like it.
“Stressful.” His fingers dug into my arm. “I’m glad to see your hair up. You look stunning tonight.” Then he glanced past me, “Donald!” and walked away as if I didn’t exist.
And I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Theo stood beside me with his eyebrows nearly in his hairline. “Darling? And here I thought I was the only one playing along. Sister dear, I’m impressed. I think we have much to discuss.”
Maybe. But then again, the only way to control my exit plan was to keep it to myself. “Do you ever feel like you were born in the wrong place at the wrong time?”
“Aside from having you as my sister? Every fucking day.”
My heart pounded in my chest as I watched Ian laughing and smiling with my father. It ached as Michael shot back a drink and sulked in the corner. There was a reason I was so miserable. I didn’t belong here and I’d been trying my whole life to escape it.
Maybe I wasn’t any of the horrible things I said to myself in the dark. Maybe, just maybe, I was exactly who I needed to be, but in the absolute worst place for a woman who was a rebel at heart.
* * *
My first memory is also the first time I realized exactly what the family business really was. I was five or six and I was sneaking a snack in the kitchen of our London house with Nanny. I was just starting to feel better after being in bed with the flu and I was still in my nightclothes.
I had Teddy in my arms and a cracker in my mouth when Father appeared in the doorway. I remember thinking he looked just like Jafar in the Disney movie, Aladdin. He was black and angry and bigger than life.
“Why is my daughter out of her room?” he said so loudly it echoed.
Nanny was terrified. Absolutely terrified. I’d never seen anyone faint, but I was sure she was about to. “I thought a walk would do her some good, sir.”
His eyebrow arched. “In her nightclothes?”
“It was just to the kitchen, sir. We never left the servant’s hall.”
His hand came down and suddenly Nanny was across the kitchen. But I didn’t move. I knew if I did my life would change forever. Instead, I looked up at Father and kept my breathing even. Maybe it was instinct.
He stood there, fuming, staring at me, daring me to cower.
I didn’t.
And then before anything else could happen, the back door flew open and six men poured in with an unconscious man slung over their arms. “We got him!” One of the men howled. Every single one of them was bloody, beaten, and filthy.
I knew now that there had been a huge fight that day between the Duncan Boys and the Uptown Mob. It was that day that my father officially took over all the drug sales in London, solidifying his rise to the top of organized crime.
The unconscious man was the son of the leader of the Uptown Mob.
I stood there and watched as my father grabbed a knife from the counter and sliced the man’s throat. Blood went everywhere. “Send him home. Make sure they know it was the King of The Duncan Boys who sent the message himself.”
The kitchen staff scoured the blood from the floors and counters. The Boys bagged the body. Nanny cried in the corner.
And I still stood in the exact same spot.
“Do you understand what just happened, Nicole?” Father knelt down in front of me, blood still staining his shirt.
“Yes, sir.”
“Tell me what just happened.”
“You took care of business.”
He smiled and stood up. “Good girl.” Then he grabbed Nanny by the hair and yanked her to her feet. “Take my daughter back to her room and lock her inside.”
“Yes, sir,” she sobbed.
She grabbed my hand and dragged me back upstairs to my room—the same room that had once kept my mother prisoner. She slammed the door without a single glance my direction. I watched each deadbolt slide into place and listened to every padlock click.
* * *
“Nicole…” my father beckoned me across the room, snapping me out of the past and back into the cocktail reception for the Boys inner circle.
I politely excused myself from Ian’s side. He’d been acting strangely all night. “Yes Father?”
“You look bored.”
“I am bored.”
His face didn’t move but I swear he was frowning. “You do not have the luxury of feeling or thinking anything except gratefulness to
be here.”
I didn’t answer because one wasn’t expected.
“I didn’t have to send you to the best rehabilitation center in the country. I didn’t have to send you to art school, buy your flat, or arrange a marriage to Ian. I expect you to be grateful and I expect you to act your part.”
Except that he did have to do all those things if he wanted to marry me off to the highest bidder.
“Of course, Father.”
He was silent for a moment. “You know what happens if you can’t do this, right?”
A shiver raced down my spine as I remembered the deadbolts sliding into place. I had the freedom I enjoyed because I played the game. The moment I became a complication my freedom, and my ability to plan my escape, would end. “Yes Father.”
“Good. Now, why don’t you take a few moments to compose yourself?” He dismissed me with the wave of his hand and I gratefully took the opportunity to slink into the corner with a glass of water.
That’s when I backed into a warm, familiar body.
“Going somewhere, love?”
His voice washed over me in the most pleasant way. “Darcy.”
How was this going to work between us now? He’d admitted he had feelings for me and then ran off. I had a two-year plan that did not involve pissing off my father. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t possibly do anything with Darcy.
But then he wrapped his hand around my hip and guided me back into the shadows, keeping his front to my back. Electricity shot across my hip and landed as a pulse between my legs, jumpstarting an ache I couldn’t control and I knew right then I was in trouble.
“Leaving the party so soon?” he murmured. His breath whispered across my skin.
“That was the idea.” Damn, I sounded breathy. “What are you doing here?”
“This is a Boys party and I am becoming a member…”
“Not of the inner circle. You shouldn’t be here, Darcy.” And I’d really prefer it if he stayed a million miles away from all things Sutherland.
