A Ruthless Lust

by Raquel Belle

  “Abby. Nice to meet you too.” Abby sent Damian a nervous glance. Camilla studied her intently as if she were a specimen under a microscope.

  Damian sent his cousin a glower and pressed his palm to the small of Abby’s back. “Don’t mind my cousin. She isn’t accustomed to people. She lives in the wild, you know.”

  “Very funny, Damian,” Camilla said. “Just remember the loads of embarrassing stories I have about you.”

  Abby pursed her lips to hide her smile. Damian’s family was so ... normal. She stole a glance at him from beneath her lashes and nearly laughed out loud at the murderous look he was giving his cousin.

  “Abby,” he said, leading her away from Camilla, “this is Joseph.”

  The older man with the kind brown eyes took her hand in his. There was a quizzical glint in his eyes, the same that had been in Camilla’s, but all he said was, “Nice to meet you, Abby.”

  ***

  Dinner at Arlet’s was nice, Abby had decided. The woman wasn’t the mean harpy she’d assumed she’d be. She was the total opposite in fact, and Abby found herself envying Damian. If she’d had a mother like Arlet growing up, she would have been very happy. She would have blossomed. And, the woman was one hell of a cook. With all of her son’s money and the fancy house she lived in, it was amazing that they didn’t have a chef, nor was there any sign of a housekeeper.

  Stories about young Damian came up, told happily by both Arlet and Camilla. Each time a new story started, Damian could be heard groaning under his breath, and it made Abby smile every time. She also noticed that his shoulders tensed each time his mother spoke to or smiled in Joseph’s direction. There was an underlying tension between the three and Abby had the feeling it would break before dinner was over.

  When Camilla wasn’t occupied with attempting to embarrass her cousin or eyeballing Abby, she too, watched Arlet, Joseph, and Damian with interest.

  “Abby, how did you and Damian meet?” Arlet asked.

  Clearing her throat lightly, Abby twirled her fork. Three pairs of eyes rested on her, and she shifted uneasily in her chair. She gave Damian a fleeting glance and forced out a smile. “We met at his last charity event.”

  “That explains your disappearance,” Camilla said, tapping her chin. “I should have known it had something to do with a woman.”

  “That’s enough out of you, Camilla,” Damian said.

  Camilla fell silent, but her devious smirk remained intact. Abby would have liked the other woman if she didn’t make her so uncomfortable. Every time she looked up, she found Camilla assessing her with her dark eyes. Eye’s that were far too similar to Damian’s. It was like the other woman was trying to look through her. As much as she was enjoying Arlet’s warmth and cooking, Abby was ready to escape the watchful gazes of Camilla and occasionally, the reserved Joseph. Did they know something she didn’t?

  “I pursued Abby after she disturbed my peace on a balcony,” Damian shared with a small smile. “And also after she called me a pompous ass.”

  Abby erupted into a fit of coughing and reached for her napkin. “Damian, did you have to share that part?”

  His mother and Camilla snickered.

  Joe grinned. “You might be on to something, Abby.”

  “I had no idea you had a sense of humor, Joe,” Damian said.

  Abby held up a hand. “I learned very quickly how wrong I was. So, we’re good.” Only they really weren’t. She’d learned that Damian was much more than just a self-important jerk. Suddenly, she wanted to flee the dining room, if only to drop her pretense for even a few minutes.

  “You okay?”

  The whispered inquiry came from Damian. He looked upon her with such concern that she wanted to hate him for it. If he behaved like the monster she knew he was, it would make her life so much easier. “Fine. Just fine.”

  He didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t push. To Abby’s relief, she was no longer the center of attention. Chatter filtered around her which she only half listened to. Damian’s next comment with its tone caught her full attention and she glanced up.

  “Again? Mamá, you don’t have to invite Joe to every dinner.” His expression was dark as he glanced Joe’s way. “And you don’t need to spend so much time with my mother.”

  There was a long awkward silence. Camilla’s low, “Oh, shit,” hovered in the atmosphere before all hell broke loose.

  “We’re not discussing this now,” Arlet said. “We have a guest.”

  “So, Joe is more than a guest?”

  “He’s your longtime friend, Damian.”

  “Precisely,” Damian said, hitting Joe with a cold stare.

  Abby felt sorry for poor Joe who turned a bright shade of red but kept his chin high and shoulders squared. She would hate to be on the receiving end of one of Damian’s lethal glares. With a shudder, she realized that she may very well be on the receiving end of his wrath—and soon—were he to discover what she was up to.

  Joe scowled. “Damian, perhaps you and I can hash things out later.”

  Abby prayed Damian would relent. The last thing she wanted was to be a party to his family drama. She had her own family drama to deal with. Plus, she was sympathetic toward Arlet and Joseph. They were nice people. She could tell. It was refreshing to be among genuine people.

  “There’s nothing to hash out, Joe. All you have to do is find some other woman to fool around with instead of my mother.”

  Arlet sprang to her feet, threw her napkin onto the table, and let loose a flurry of angry words in Spanish. Damian spat out something that sounded equally as angry and took off after his mother when she stormed out of the dining room. Joe let out a sigh and reluctantly stood up. “Please, excuse me, ladies.” He received condoling smiles from both Camilla and Abby.

  Abby, uneasy with being left alone with a stranger, suddenly took keen interest in her fingernails.

  “Awkward, huh?” Camilla’s tone rang with amusement.

  With a huff, Abby glanced her way. “Beyond awkward.”

  Camilla chuckled and sat back. “So, Abby, did you understand a word of what was said just now?”

  “Not really. I do understand that there’s a lot of anger, though.”

  “Oh, yeah. That whole Arlet and Joe thing has been simmering for some time now. That was totally expected, but I didn’t think things would boil over tonight with you here. I thought that hot head, Damian, would keep his shit together with his girlfriend present.

  “I'm not ...” Did she really want to attempt to explain her and Damian’s relationship to his cousin? “Hot head? He usually seems pretty calm to me.”

  “You just got a glimpse of the angry teen he once was.”

  Abby sat up and gave Camilla her full attention. Maybe the woman could spill some secret about Damian that she could use against him. “Oh? Did he get into lots of tussles?”

  “Tussles …,” Camilla said. “You’re cute. That’s definitely something a rich princess would say.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Never mind. I swore he’d grow up to become an MMA fighter instead of a polished businessman sitting behind a desk.”

  “Just how much trouble did he used to get into?”

  Camilla’s eyes narrowed, and then she grinned. “I keep his secrets, he keeps mine. That’s the way it’s been since we were kids. He’s older by quite a few years but we click, you know? In an annoying-the-shit-out-of-each-other way.”

  Abby laughed. “I see.” Clearly she wouldn’t get a thing from the loyal cousin. “What kind of secret would a woman like you have?”

  Camilla’s brows elevated. “A woman like me?”

  “Gorgeous.” Abby waved her hand around the posh dining room. “Rich.”

  A melodious laugh filled the room. Camilla sat back and sighed. “Honey, none of this is mine. Damian is the rich one. I make my money working as an escort.”

  Seconds of stunned silence ticked by, and Abby didn’t know if Camilla was joking or not. “An ... esco
rt?”

  “Uh huh. I’m studying … getting my Master’s in psychology. Tuition is a bitch, and as much as Damian offers, I refuse to take handouts from him. It wasn’t how I was raised. My temporary job fits my schedule and keeps me fabulous while I go to school. Plus, the experience will make for great stories when I’m old and gray and ready to write my memoirs.”

  Abby gave Camilla an owlish blink, unable to find anything to say.

  “I’m a high-end escort, Abby. That’s why I didn’t intervene with the entire debacle just now. I would have told Damian to pipe down and let his mother live, but he’s been keeping my secret for months, and I would hate for Aunt Arlet to find out because she’d blab to my mother back in Cuba, and there’s nothing scarier than an angry Cuban mother.”

  Abby’s brows lifted. Yes, there was something scarier. An angry Celeste.

  Camilla shrugged. “It’s best to just keep my head down.”

  Abby’s lips quirked. Camilla certainly was an interesting character. “Why are you telling me this? You don’t know me.”

  Camilla leaned forward with a devilish grin. “Well, if by tomorrow or sometime in the near future there’s a rumor circulating that the cousin of Damian Coldwell, often seen with him at high society functions, is a high-class prostitute, I’ll know your true motive for dating my cousin, and then you’ll be done for, Abby Aldridge. Yes, he told me who you are, and as you can imagine, my suspicion flag started to fly high. I have no problem risking my reputation to protect my cousin. He’s a good man.” She grinned. “We have nothing to worry about though, because you’re not up to anything devious are you, Abby?”

  Gulping, Abby struggled to keep her expression neutral. “Of course not.” With a weak smile, she asked, “How’s the escort business going these days? My family is about to lose everything, you know. I might need a second income.”

  Camilla’s laugh was loud and infectious, but there was no mistaking the fierce glint in her eyes. “I hope to hell you’re not playing Damian, Abby, because you’re not all that bad for an Aldridge.”

  Abby felt sweat trickling between her breasts. Camilla was like a pretty kitten with lethal claws. The look in the woman’s eyes alone made Abby want to abort her mission. “I’m not playing anyone, Camilla.” Nausea rolled through her stomach as she uttered the bold-faced lie. “I should go check on Damian.” Her chair scratched the hardwood floor loudly as she jumped to her feet. She couldn’t escape Camilla’s piercing stare fast enough. She found him in the backyard, brooding. It was a good thing she had a mind to grab her coat and his before venturing outside. The biting cold immediately made her begin to shiver.

  ***

  “Hey, Superman. You may be immune to the cold, but I brought your coat anyway. Do me a favor and put it on for my comfort.”

  Damian glanced over his shoulder with annoyance. His mouth was in a grim line, but she swore she saw his expression soften just a bit. She approached him cautiously and offered the heavy coat in silence. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him shrug on the garment and then proceed to stare at her.

  “You want to say something ...”

  “Nope.” She shook her head. “I was merely concerned you’d freeze to death before you could take me home.”

  His mouth kicked up at the corners. “So compassionate … You don’t have me fooled. You’re dying to comment on what you witnessed in there. You have that look. Spit it out.”

  “No comment.” She stared ahead, contemplating the scene that had unfolded at the dinner table. She barely knew Damian’s family and should stay out of their personal affairs. Why get attached to them when she was plotting to destroy one of their own? But his mother was so damn nice.

  She sighed. "Okay. It’s none of my business, but I do have one thing to say. Let your mother live, she’s a grown woman, and you totally overreacted. That was two things, and I’m finished.”

  His eyes swept over her face once and turned icy. “You’re right, it’s none of your business.”

  Abby’s jaws clenched. “You wanted to hear what I had to say and because it doesn’t suit you, I should shut up? Grow up, Damian.”

  He shoved his hands into the pockets of his open coat and moved away from her. She scowled at his back as he waded into the snow. He glanced over his shoulder. “Go back inside. You have a habit of showing up when I want to be alone.”

  “You think you can boss everyone around, don’t you? Even your own mother,” she said, following him to be sure he didn’t miss a word. “The degree of your arrogance is …”

  “How about you let me worry about the level of my arrogance, and my mother for that matter? Feel free to start minding your own business.”

  “Why you ...” Without much thought, she bent down to scoop up a handful of snow and threw it at him with all her might. She gasped when the snow plastered his face. Damian stood frozen, blinking in shock, his lashes fanning debris of snow out of his eyes. Hand over her mouth and wide-eyed, Abby felt a giggle bubbling in her chest and tried to keep it down.

  With a growl he took slow steps toward her. She retreated, palms up in surrender. “Now Damian, I know that was childish of me, but there’s no need to reciprocate such behavior. You’re bigger than this,” she added when he didn’t stop. “Damian.” She turned to sprint back to the house. She squealed when she was hit in the back. “So, that’s how you want to play it.”

  Abby retaliated. Damian dodged the snowball flying toward his head and descended on her with a wolfish grin.

  Abby’s giggles and screams filled the backyard, with occasional roars of laughter from Damian. She bellied over laughing. “Time out! This is unfair, your snowballs are bigger than mine.”

  “It pays to have large hands,” he said, winding an arm around her waist and carrying her to the ground. He spun midair to take the brunt of the fall.

  Landing on top of him, breathless, Abby said, “No more. You win.”

  “I always win, Querida …”

  “Oh, get over yourself,” she said. Her annoyance quickly faded when she lifted herself on her elbows and caught his expression. He was smiling, and the harsh lines of his face relaxed. He looked happy, boyish, and her heart involuntarily turned over.

  He lifted a hand to push her cascading mane out of her face. “That was interesting. I’ve never had a snowball fight before. Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever played, even as a kid.”

  “That’s so sad.”

  “I was an only child, and when Camilla came along, I was too old to have any interest in playing.”

  Abby fought the urge to kiss him when he looked up at her. Her emotions were in turmoil again, with her wanting to hate Damian and her heart turning to mush at the sight of him. She didn’t have to suffer long because he laced his fingers through her hair and forced her head down. Their lips met in a slow dance that quickly turned impassioned, and her mental war was shoved aside. Her body was in full command, and it wanted more of Damian, more of his kisses, more everything. Their contact became more heated by the second, and she was sure they’d melt the snow beneath them.

  He pulled away. “You’re soaking wet.”

  “You’re damn right I am.” She might very well need a change of underwear.

  She felt the vibration of the laughter in his chest and frowned. “I mean, your hair and clothes, Abby.” He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. “You’re freezing. We’re going inside. Now.”

  The cold was starting to seep through her wet coat and clothes so she pushed herself off of him and stood up. She gasped when she spotted Arlet and Camilla watching them. Both women were wide-eyed. “Oh, my god. Arlet saw me shoving my tongue down her son’s throat. How embarrassing.”

  Damian snickered and pressed a hand to her back to urge her forward. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s get you dried off.”

  They aimed for the door, and Abby’s face scorched when they neared the two women on the porch. Camilla eyed Damian with disbelief. “Were you just playing?”


  The only response she received was a grunt. Arlet gazed at Abby with wonder and amazement.

  “Excuse us,” Abby said as they passed.

  She was led up the stairs and into an opulent bathroom that she could possibly spend hours luxuriating in. “I would love to soak in that tub,” she said, eyeing the massive marble creation. Since she’d moved away from her family’s mansion, she hadn’t indulged in much luxury during her travels and her apartment’s bathroom was worlds away from such splendor.

  “Go ahead,” Damian said.

  “What? No way. I’m not going to soak in your mother's tub.”

  “She doesn’t use this bathroom.”

  She shook her head. “Just hand me a towel and let me dry off so we can leave. I’m so embarrassed. Your mother must think I’m some kind of hussy.” She shrugged out of her coat and accepted a fluffy, gray towel.

  Damian laughed and began to run a towel through his own wet hair. “I didn’t take you for a prude, Abby. My mother is well aware that we’ve done more than kiss I’m sure.”

  “Why, because she knows you’re a male strumpet?”

  The bathroom echoed with a rumble of laughter. “Your insults are more amusing than they are offensive.” He moved closer until he stood behind her to catch her gaze in the mirror.

  She paused to stare at his reflection and caught the carnal intention in his smoldering glare. “Damian, no. Not in your mother’s house.”

  “Abby, yes,” he said. “Right here. I want to bend you over and take you right here, right now, and I’m going to do just that ...”

  “Damian,” she moaned his name more out of need than protest. There was no way she could resist. He plucked the towel from her fingers and tossed it aside before grasping the hem of her sweater to pull it over her head. Slowly, he removed her clothing until she stood in only her underwear.

  “Your skin is still so cold,” he murmured running his fingers over her arms and breasts. “I’d better warm you up fast.” Abby was already dazed and aroused beyond belief, a result of only his light caresses. She gasped, when fingers slid into her underwear to brush her mound. Her eyes fluttered closed before he said, “Keep them open, Abby. I want you to watch me touch you.”