A Ruthless Lust

by Raquel Belle

  It was a home office. “Even better than the bedroom.” She stepped into the room and gasped. It was more than an office. Shelves lined the walls, filled with rows upon rows of books. The literature geek in her wanted to check out Damian’s impressive collection. He wasn’t kidding when he said he had learned to appreciate being well read. He was like the perfect man that she wasn’t allowed to have.

  “Ugh, why do we have to be enemies?” she asked herself.

  Ignoring the books with great reluctance, she searched his desk. There was nothing but an empty folder, pens, and an open book that laid face down. She squinted to see the title of the book in the semi-dark. The Art of War.

  Abby snorted. “Of course ... Maybe he really is a mob boss.”

  She tried the drawers of the desk and nearly kicked the massive piece of wood in frustration. The drawers were locked, and the only one unlocked had nothing but blank paper inside. If luck wasn’t being such a bitch, she would have found some decent dirt on Damian, snuck out, and been done with him. Her mother would do the rest with whatever blackmail and evil deed she had planned. But, no, as luck would have it, she would have to keep up her charade with Damian. Hopefully, she could weasel more than one night out of him. She rubbed her eyes, while yawning and then backed out of the room.

  There was no warning before she collided with a hard body. Letting out a scream, she whipped around and held up the cell phone. The small light left Damian’s features mostly shadowed. He looked like a killer in a slasher movie with the hard planes of his face twisted into a scowl.

  Abby clutched her chest. “Damian.”

  “Who else would it be?”

  A light flicked on, and she blinked rapidly against the sudden assault on her retinas. “So, that’s where the light switch is …”

  Damian crossed his arms. “What the hell are you doing sneaking around?” His eyes dropped to her hand. “With my phone?”

  He looked so pissed that she nearly missed the fact that he was completely naked. The realization sent her into a fluster—so much so that she could barely formulate her lies. “I … I was looking for the bathroom. You said your bedroom was up here, I figured the bathroom was, too. I stumbled into this room and got distracted by the books. My purse and phone are in your car, so I borrowed yours to call a cab, but it’s password secured.”

  “A cab at two a.m.?”

  Her shoulders lifted. “I have an early appointment later this morning.” That part was true. She had applied for a job at an art gallery and she’d gotten a call for an interview.

  She held out the phone to him. “I’m sorry. I should have asked first, but you just looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to wake you.”

  His features softened, and a small smile touched his lips. “Don’t worry about it. You don’t really have to leave right now, do you? I can take you home as early as you need.”

  “Oh … Okay. If it won’t be too much trouble.”

  “It won’t.” His eyes moved to the shelves, and she was graced with another sexy grin. “Of course, you’d forget you have to pee at the sight of a few books.”

  Relief flooded Abby. Holy hell. He'd bought her story. With a nervous giggle, she shook her head. “I’d say you have more than a few. I wish I could go through your library. It’s very impressive.”

  “Another time. Let me show you the bathroom.” He walked off and sent her a brief glance over his shoulder. “You look delectable in my shirt, by the way.”

  Despite nearly suffering a heart attack after almost getting caught snooping, Abby blushed and then tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, feeling foolishly pleased. “Thanks.” Damn him for making her feel all girly and pretty.

  ***

  Abby sagged against the door of her parent’s home after giving Damian a cheerful wave. She was barely two days into her covert operation, and she was exhausted. “Oh, god … How much longer can I do this?” She dragged herself into the living room and threw herself onto a sofa.

  Wyatt stepped into the living room and removed his earbuds. “Oh my god … Are you doing the walk of shame?”

  Stifling a groan, Abby propped herself up on her elbows to glare at her brother. “Damn it, Sprout, aren’t you supposed to be at school or something?”

  Wyatt nudged her over and took a seat. “One, I’m going to give you hell for calling me that. Two, I've got one more week of winter break. How could you forget? And we’re supposed to jog together this morning. Was your night that wild?”

  “I’m not discussing my night with you.”

  “I guess that means you got lucky.”

  “Oh my god. Can you be a normal little brother for once?”

  “Afraid not,” he said. “Who’s the lucky guy? Why didn’t you tell me you were dating? You tell me everything.”

  “I tell you almost everything.”

  Wyatt rubbed his chin thoughtfully, ignoring the line Abby attempted to draw. “Do I know him? Wait, a minute. Is it Damian Coldwell …? Fuck!”

  With an aggravated growl, Abby sat up. Umm … language!”

  Rolling his eyes, Wyatt scoffed. “I’m nine-”

  “Nineteen,” Abby said. “Yeah, yeah. I know. Look, bro, I’m not in the mood to talk.”

  Sitting back, Wyatt rested his chin in his palm. His brows puckered thoughtfully as he studied Abby, making her laugh. “You’re not even aware that you always mimic dad’s gestures perfectly, are you?”

  He sighed. “Do I? Well, if the old man was still alive, he’d be worried about you, Abbs. Do you have any idea how miserable you’ve looked for the past few days?”

  “I’m still in mourning, Wyatt. Of course, I look miserable. We can’t all shove our grief to a far corner like you can, or not feel anything at all like mom.”

  “Bull … It’s more than that. Something is up with you. You’ve been acting just as shady as Celeste. Now you’re dating Coldwell, the man who supposedly ruined dad.”

  “I never said I was dating him.”

  “Then who were you out with last night?”

  “Hey, you’re not my parent. You don’t get to interrogate me.”

  “Abby …”

  “Fine. I was with Damian.”

  Wyatt threw his hands up. “It makes no sense. You of all people should hate him. You worshipped the ground dad walked on.”

  “I do hate him,” she said.

  Realization lit Wyatt’s eyes. He was too quick and too smart for his own good. Shaking his head, he let out a humorless laugh. “Don’t do it, Abby. Whatever mother, or rather, Cruella Deville, wants you to do, don’t do it. Let her do her own dirty work.”

  “Wyatt you don’t understand …”

  “There’s nothing to understand about intentionally trying to hurt someone. You’re supposed to be different. We’re supposed to be different. It’s always been you and me, and now you’ve joined Team Evil. What the hell, Abbs?”

  Abby felt lower than low having her younger brother look upon her with disappointment. He knew what she was doing, and she was beyond embarrassed. “There’s a chance that we can get daddy’s company back, Wyatt. Maybe even keep the house and the cars, everything.”

  “What do you care about this hell hole? You don’t even live here.”

  “I care because of you. You deserve everything that dad would have left you if things hadn’t gone south with his business. If Coldwell hadn’t taken everything from him. What I’m doing is for you, Wyatt.”

  He shot up, his fury taking her by surprise. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that. Whatever helps you sleep at night. I’m going for a run. Alone.”

  “But we run together. Wyatt!”

  The door slammed, and Abby was left sitting in stunned silence. Wyatt’s reaction to her scheming with their mother left her rattled. To know that her teenage brother had higher morals than the rest of the family combined was not all that eye-opening, it was good, but she couldn’t turn back now. She was on her way to having Damian wrapped around her finger. Before dropping her
off, he’d said he wouldn’t mind seeing her again. She spent the entire night with him and would most likely have a repeat of their steamy night, soon. How many women could say the same? None by what she’d heard about him.

  Once she took Damian down and got what belonged to her family back in their hands, she’d smooth things over with Wyatt. Now, it was time to put her new life as a femme fatale on pause to get back to regular Abby for her job interview. Luckily, she was able to leave before Celeste or Elaina realized she was there. No way could she stomach sharing the details of her night with either of them. At least her apartment would give her the privacy and solitude she needed to regroup. After a spectacular night with a man she was supposed to despise, her emotions were all out of whack, and the last person she wanted to witness that was her judgmental mother.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Damian

  Weeks later…

  “You’ve met a girl haven’t you, son?”

  Damian coughed and sputtered, all the while trying to keep his expression neutral. The one person who could make him lose his famed, stoic coolness smiled serenely at him across the dinner table—Arlet Gonzalez-Coldwell, his mother. She was also his hero but he wouldn’t let her know that just yet. If she wasn’t the strongest woman alive, he didn’t know who was. A former beauty queen who fell in love with an American, she had left her country to start a new life only for her fairytale to turn into a nightmare. She ended up having to raise a kid on her own when her husband went to prison for a crime he wasn’t guilty of, and after that he had killed himself. Damian grew up watching his mother struggle and make too many sacrifices to get him where he was today.

  His respect for her was on an entirely different level, and he never allowed her to see the ruthless side of him that emerged to scare everyone else shitless. He was never a cold bastard in her presence. He was just an adoring son who—according to her—needed to smile more.

  Damian sent an accusing glare to his left where Camilla sat giving him an innocent look. She shook her head and shrugged. Of course, his cousin hadn’t mentioned anything to Arlet. She had no idea that he was involved with a woman—especially one he shouldn’t have been involved with in the first place. Involved. Was that what he should call it? What did one call two weeks of entertaining dates, accompanied by incredible sex?

  “I meet lots of girls,” he said, hoping she would drop the subject.

  “I’m well aware. I know how to use Google. I see things.”

  “Lies, Mamá, all lies.”

  Camilla snickered as she toyed with the food on her plate. “You can’t believe everything you see about your son on Google. Whether or not he is a man tramp, some of those women lie.”

  “Camilla,” Damian said. “Who invited you anyway?”

  “Don’t start you two,” Arlet said.

  Damian gritted his teeth and sent his cousin a silent promise of retaliation. They often bickered like siblings, which was normal since they’d grown up like brother and sister. He supposed he should welcome Camilla’s jabs and jokes. She gave him shit about everything and that kept him grounded.

  “So …” Arlet rested her chin on the back of her hand and grinned. “When do I get to meet her? And don’t lie and tell me there’s no one because I know you, Damian.” She searched his face intently. “Your scowl is a little less ... scowly.”

  “For Christ’s sake,” he said.

  “And you’ve only called me once in the past week to attempt to boss me around. That could only mean you’ve met a woman who is keeping you occupied.”

  “Not wanting you to work and wanting to protect you from men who are no good is hardly bossing you around, Mamá.”

  “Don’t change the subject. Invite her over for dinner.”

  Throwing down his napkin, Damian threw up his arms. “There is no woman.” Both Arlet and Camilla regarded him with raised brows. He sighed in defeat. “I haven’t been seeing her long.”

  Triumph flashed in his mother’s eyes, and he scowled. “It’s okay,” she said. “In this day and age, you kids move so fast. You all meet today and get married next week. I’ve been reading about those short-lived celebrity marriages. Married for three days.” Arlet made the sign of the cross and shook her head. “Dios. Can you imagine?”

  Camilla grinned. “You sure have been making use of that Google, Aunty.”

  “What else is there to do when I’m tired of shopping?” She sighed, sending Damian a pointed look. “If only I had something else meaningful to do.”

  He rolled his eyes. She used every chance she got to let him know she wanted to get out into the real world and work. One would think that after juggling so many jobs to put food on the table and send him to college, she’d welcome the break. “Alright, Mamá.” he said. “I’ll put you in charge of organizing my upcoming charity events. How’s that?” It would keep her occupied for a while because he had quite a few charities with his name on them. He wasn’t born rich and knew the struggles that many faced. He wanted to help those who were in a similar position that he and his mother were once in so many years ago.

  “It’s a start,” she said.

  He watched with narrowed eyes as she gave Camilla a high-five across the table. “Back to your lady friend, son. Invite her here for dinner next weekend.” Before he could shut her down, she added, “Stay calm. It won’t be an intimate meet-the-parent dinner. Joseph will be here and so will Camilla. Okay, sweetheart?”

  “I’ll be here with bells on,” Camilla said.

  It was a bad idea. What would his mother think if she found out he was sleeping with an Aldridge? But, the mention of Joe overrode his concern about bringing Abby anywhere near his family. “You sure have been inviting Joe to plenty of family dinners.”

  Arlet cleared her throat lightly, a faint tinge of pink flooding her cheeks. “He’s been in our lives long enough. I consider him close enough to share meals with us from time to time. Nothing wrong with that, is there?” She sprang up and started clearing the table with swift movements. “Don’t disappoint me, hijo. Bring your lady friend, and we’ll all have a good time.” She flitted out of the dining room like a nervous butterfly.

  Damian seethed. He was going to put an end to Joe and his mother after he kicked Joe’s ass—that traitor

  “Well, that Joe situation was mighty awkward,” Camilla said. “Isn’t he your drinking buddy or something?”

  “He’s my lawyer.”

  She snickered. “Awesome. There’s no way I’m missing that dinner. Can you say drama? Speaking of drama, who’s the chick? Another Instagram queen?” She held both hands to form air quotes. “Maybe a model? Or a socialite?”

  “None of your damn business.”

  “I’ll find out soon enough, so you might as well tell me.”

  Camilla would hound him like a dog hunting a bone. To avoid the incessant questions that he knew would come, he spat it out. “Abigail Aldridge.”

  Her smile dropped. “I’m sorry, did you say Aldridge?”

  “Yes.”

  “Like another Aldridge from out of state and not your mortal enemy, Aldridge?”

  Damian’s only response was a raised brow and a mocking smile. Camilla exhibited no surprise or censure. She simply folded arms across her chest and studied him in silence. “You devil. What the hell are you up to?”

  “I don’t know yet.” He really didn’t. He constantly wavered between turning his new bed partner into a pawn and letting her loose without damaging her precious heart. Each time his hatred for the Aldridge family surfaced, he wanted to devour Abby without mercy and send her back to the clan of snakes in tears, and with her pride in shreds. But he had spent time with her, gazing down at her in the throes of passion, and all he wanted to do was protect her.

  “I would lecture you about being careful but then you’d just flip things around and lecture me on my job. So, I’m going to keep my mouth shut for now.”

  “Speaking of your job …”

  “Don’t even.”
Camilla got up and collected the remainder of the empty dishes.

  Damian was left sitting alone. He let out a long, tired sigh. His mother and Joe, his cousin, and her senseless vocation … and then there was Abby. He was starting to miss the good old days when all he had to focus on was cutting throats in the business world, and littering boardrooms with figurative dead bodies. He’d done it all without feeling a thing, with his only goal being to avenge his father. He’d been unfeeling and cold-blooded for years. So, what were all of these new feelings, and where were they coming from? He could only think of one answer—Abby.

  ***

  “Once again, I’ve ended up in your bed. This must be some kind of record for you.”

  Damian had his hands folded behind his head, staring at the white ceiling above his bed. “Countless women have ended up in my bed.”

  Abby propped herself up on one elbow. “Not your bed. You take women to hotels, that’s what you told me.”

  “You believe everything I tell you? What if I lied simply to get between your legs?”

  She fell silent, staring at him, in deep consideration. “I suppose that’s possible. But I don’t see you lying about something like that.”

  “Because you know me so well?”

  “I know enough to know that you wouldn’t lie about that.”

  He gave her a side glance, while admiring her bare breasts and long tresses that spilled across the pillow, a few strands brushing his arm and chest. Even that was enough to have his dick twitching excitedly. He muttered a curse, hating himself for being so weak when it came to Abby. He wanted so badly to hate her, to be able to use her without remorse, but he couldn’t. “Well, don’t get too excited about being in my home. You might very well be uninvited by next week.”