A Million Guilty Pleasures: Million Dollar Duet (2 page)

I loved her. God help me, I fucking loved her.

Afterward, she made a point to state the obvious, that we needed to talk. But I’d known everything she was going to say already, so I claimed the night and just held her. I knew it would be the last time I’d ever be able to do so.

The next morning, it had taken every ounce of strength I had to leave the measured serenity of that bed. It had to be done. So I’d nuzzled her neck and softly kissed the bare skin of her shoulder before whispering one last “I love you” into her ear. She’d stirred and smiled in her sleep, which made it even harder to leave her side, but somehow I did.

The shower was quick, my dressing time even quicker. And when I’d come out, there she was, my million-dollar baby, looking even more beautiful than I’d ever thought her to be before. She’d wanted to talk, but again, I knew the score, and I just didn’t think I could handle hearing her say the words. So I did the right thing.

I ripped up the contract and told her to go be with her family.
And then I willed my shaky legs to take me away from her. She didn’t follow or try to stop me, which was just as it should’ve been. The fantasy I’d tried to buy was over, and it was time for me to get back to the real world.

As the limousine pulled away, I refused to let myself look back at the front door. I didn’t want to see that she wasn’t there. It was hard enough knowing she wouldn’t be when I got home. Maybe the day would eventually come that she’d think about me and not hate my guts. Maybe she’d even smile warmly. Maybe, but I wasn’t counting on it. As long as she was happy, that was all that mattered to me.

And so I found myself in my limousine, alone and fucking dying on the inside. I’d turn to the only thing that had gotten me through every other tragedy in my life: Scarlet Lotus.

Lanie

As I watched the limousine disappear from sight, something came over me. I expected it to be defeat, agony, betrayal, or heartache, but it wasn’t.

Rage. Rage and more rage.

How dare he? Stupid man with his stupid big house, his stupid big ego, and his stupid big head, thinking he knew what was best for me. He said it wouldn’t work, but I didn’t believe he meant it. I saw that look in his eyes. It was killing him. So why do it? Why go through all he had the night before to prove how he felt for me, only to turn me loose the second he had a chance to make a clean getaway? Because he had control issues—that was the reason. Well, he couldn’t tell me what to do. I wasn’t one of his employees anymore. The shredded
piece of paper he had discarded on the bed was the end of that contract.

Discarded … just like me.

I was going to tell him I loved him, too, to put an end to his ridiculousness, but no such luck. Before letting me get out of my mouth the words that were sure to prove him wrong, the control freak told me to get lost.

How was it fair that he got to say all he wanted when I didn’t? I mean, sure, I could’ve echoed his declaration while in the throes of passion, but that passion had been pretty epic and I’d had a hard enough time remembering to breathe, let alone being able to say anything that would have sounded in the least bit coherent or endearing. Besides, I really thought I had all kinds of time to tell him how I felt. I mean, hello? I’d told him to call me Lanie, for Christ’s sake. Plus I didn’t want him to think I was saying those three little words just because he had. I wanted a separate moment to do the whole shout-it-from-the-highest-mountaintop-for-the-whole-world-to-hear thing so that there’d be no doubting my sincerity, because a declaration of that magnitude was a pretty serious thing. But I was all kinds of prepared to make that leap. For him, for me … for us.

And then he just had to go and ruin it with his caveman crap.

Men are jackasses.

But at least I could do something about my jackass, because I really had nothing to lose by confronting him. I was going to make him listen to me, whether he wanted to or not. He was going to know that I loved him, and he was going to feel like a total jerk for dismissing me the way he had. Because I was
going down to that posh little office of his to demand his attention. He was going to see how wrong he was to make the assumptions he had, and he would never jump to conclusions again. I was a woman who had given up everything to save her dying mother’s life, and I had a voice that was screaming to be heard. I’d be damned if everything I’d been through since I entered Noah Crawford’s world was going to be for nothing.

Resigned to that plan, I turned on my heel and stalked back into the house with my shoulders back and my head held high. After a quick shower and a tour through Polly’s wonderland of inappropriate clothing, I dressed and grabbed my cell phone from the table before leaving.

I was really quite impressed with myself as I scurried down the stairs, again avoiding a neck-breaking, skull-crushing fall. When I reached the first floor, I heard a car pull up. It had to be Samuel returning from dropping Noah off, and I gave myself a healthy dose of see-this-was-meant-to-be because how perfect was that timing?

And then there was an insistent pounding on the door, followed by “Lanie Marie Talbot, I know you’re in there! Get your fat ass out of bed and open the door!”

That was my bestie, Dez.

I sprinted for the door and yanked it open just as Dez was about to pound her fist against it again. For a girl, she was pretty strong, and I was lucky that she narrowly missed cold-cocking me in the forehead. Like I needed to look like a unicorn when I went to confront Noah.

“Dez!” I shrieked as I ducked her fist. We both took a step back and looked each other over.

“What the hell are you wearing?” we asked simultaneously.

“Jinx! You owe me a Coke!” I yelled at the same time Dez yelled, “Jinx! You owe me a cock!”

Every time we played this game, I never got my Coke. Dez, however, always got her cock—without my help.

Dez was dressed head to toe in black on black. Well, mostly. Black skinny jeans, black turtleneck, black snakeskin boots. A skull belt buckle adorned the center of her low-slung hip huggers, and she was wearing a black cap embroidered with yet another skull just over her perfectly sculpted eyebrows.

I tackled my best friend, wrapping my arms around her torso and pinning her arms to her sides. “Oh my God! I’ve missed you so much!” It wasn’t until she was right in front of me that I realized just how badly.

“Get off me, Hulkette! Damn, what are they feeding you here, steroids?” she asked, trying to wriggle out of my hold.

I turned her loose, realizing my hug was probably borderline bone-shattering, and stepped aside to invite her in. “What’s with the
Mission: Impossible
getup?”

“I’m breaking you out.” She turned to look me over once again with an approving smile. “Boyfriend sure did trick you out, huh? Look at you with the little red minidress, Slutty McSlutterson.” Then she suddenly gasped, her eyes going wide. “You have been thoroughly scrogged! Spill!”

I felt my face go red. “What? No!”

“Yes, you were, Lanie Talbot! Don’t forget who you’re talking to. I think I know that just-been-fucked look.”

I wanted nothing more than to gush to my best friend, but I needed to catch up to Noah, and Dez’s arrival was keeping me from doing that. Speaking of … “Wait, what do you mean you’re breaking me out?”

“I mean get your shit and let’s go. I’m on a covert mission to bail your ass out of sex-slave prison,” she said, and then looked around in awe. “Although I don’t really see how you could exactly call these digs a prison. This is a freakin’ palace!”

“Okay, seriously. Why are you here, and how did you know where I was?”

Dez rolled her eyes. “You said Noah Crawford bought you, and it didn’t dawn on me at first, but then it hit me like a whore getting bitch-slapped by her pimp in a dark alley: Noah Crawford of Scarlet Lotus. Right? I mean, how many Noah Crawfords can there be in the world, much less in this corner of the country, with enough money to pay two million little cha-chings for his own personal little
oh-yes-daddy-milk-me-papi
?” she asked with all the great acting skills of a porn star destined for the not so silver screen.

“Yes, but that still doesn’t explain why you’re here, insisting on breaking me out. I’m fine, and really, it’s not exactly like I’m a prisoner. Noah treats me very good.”

My best friend took a deep breath and sighed. “I have something to tell you, sweetie,” she started. She never called me
sweetie
unless she was about to lay something heavy on me. My heart jumped into my throat and tried to claw its way out.

“Faye has taken a turn for the worse. She’s been admitted to University Hospital, and they’ve called in the family. I promised Mack I’d get you there. It doesn’t look good, babe.”

Just then the front door opened and Polly bounced over the threshold. “Good morning, Lanie!” she greeted me in her usual bubbly voice as if my whole world hadn’t been turned upside down mere seconds before. The smile immediately dropped from her face once she saw my expression. “Oh, God. What’s wrong?”

My chest constricted like an anaconda was squeezing the life out of it in preparation for swallowing it whole. “Noah was right. My parents do need me more than he does.”

David

My head hurt. Hurt like I’d been sucker-punched by an I beam that had fallen from twenty stories up. Or maybe it was more like one of those chandeliers on the
Titanic
—or, hell, even the
Titanic
itself.

And my mouth tasted like ass.

I cracked one eyelid open and surveyed the damages. Usually when I woke up like this, there was always one or two, maybe even three whores that I needed to get rid of fast before they got too clingy.

Thank God I was in my office at Scarlet Lotus alone. I guess that cunt Julie had taken the hint when I’d told her to get the fuck out last night. At least I thought I’d told her to get out. I remembered fucking her in the ass, because hell yeah, I had to take that trip down memory lane. Too bad Crawford hadn’t been there to see it. The look on his face when he’d seen Julie was my date to the ball had been priceless, although not as priceless as it could have been. No doubt because the lucky bastard had had Miss Delaine Talbot on his arm. I should probably say she’d had him on her arm, literally. That cuff bracelet she’d worn had said it all—he’d marked her as his personal property. Which cinched the fact that I had to have her. I just needed to get my game plan together. After our informative conversation the night before, it was obvious she actually had feelings for my ex of a best friend. But even if she hadn’t, nabbing a woman like Delaine Talbot was going to
take more than empty promises and a fat bank account. Not surprisingly, that was all it had taken with Julie.

I stretched and felt every glorious muscle in my awesomeness of a body groan in protest. One thing was for damn sure: the cushy leather couch that I’d had imported from Italy wasn’t doing anything for my back. Too much fucking in my short lifetime had really done a number on it. But hell, as long as I was good at producing the orgasms, I was going to keep doing it. My orgasms, not theirs. Hey, I never gave any guarantees.

I willed my head to stop pounding as I sat up and stretched some more, hoping to get some of the kinks out of my neck and back. Goddamn, I was sore. My head started spinning, but after a moment or two I was able to get the floor to stop moving long enough to stand. Putting one foot in front of the other, I made a zigzag line to my bathroom—admittedly, I was still a little drunk—and grabbed the bottle of painkillers I kept in the cabinet. After popping one in my mouth, and then another for good measure, I ran cold water in my cupped hands and drank out of them.

When I looked in the mirror, I beamed at myself. Any other motherfucker who’d had the same night I had would look like shit, but not me. I always looked good. I reached for the toothbrush that I kept there, because I had a pretty fucking smile that had to be maintained, and made my pearls gleam before jumping in the shower. After toweling off, I headed to my personal closet to grab a fresh set of threads. Yeah, I kept a wardrobe there.

The shower sobered me up quite a bit, which was a good thing because I had a very important appointment that I
needed to keep and I needed to be fresh. One glance at my Rolex let me know that I still had plenty of time.

I was shocked, to say the least, when I walked out of my office and saw Crawford stepping off the elevator. He groaned when he saw me as well. I took the groan as a compliment, a definite mark in my favor. Maybe I wasn’t the easiest person to get along with when I was on the opposing team, but that fact served its purpose. The more miserable I made him, the more likely he was to eventually give up and turn over his half of the company to yours truly just to get away from me. So if Noah left himself open, you bet your sweet ass I took the shot.

“It’s Sunday, Crawford. What are you doing here?”

“I have work to catch up on,” he said, pulling out the key to his office. Obviously he was going to blow me off, but I just couldn’t let him do that before I’d had my fun.

“You left early last night. No worries, though. I explained to the board members and clients that you had a hot little number that was demanding your attention,” I said smugly. He knew the translation; I cut his balls off and handed them over in a paper bag. Score one for the home team. His inattention to them gave me the advantage in the little game we played for control.

He scoffed and shook his head.

“Speaking of … she’s one hellcat of a woman, that Delaine. Eeeew-eee!” I crowed. “Got a hell of a mouth on her, too. What was it she called me?” I asked, tapping my chin as I recalled her words. “Oh, yeah. A remora. Seems to think your dick is bigger than mine, which might or might not be true, but that didn’t stop your other whore from jumping on the David Stone express, now did it? Of course, unlike Julie, Delaine
sure was quick to defend her man. Passionate about it, too. I could use someone like her on my list of go-tos.” Bingo! That one had hit home.

Hatred flashed in his eyes. Mistake number one: the more he cared about her, the more I wanted her. He closed the distance between us in half a heartbeat and pinned me against the wall with his forearm to my throat. Mistake number two: assault in the workplace just added another weapon to my arsenal.