BargainWiththeBeast (13 page)

The woman he loved.

Damn. He rubbed a hand over his face and curved it around
the back of his neck.

Gwendolyn had become entrenched in his heart as a
nine-year-old child, and as she’d grown, she claimed a bit more. And then a bit
more. Until he couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t owned a piece of him.

All these years he’d consigned his desire for her as a
physical reaction—an inappropriate hunger for the woman who’d belonged to his
brother. But the tenderness, the need to hear her voice, touch her, inhale her
vanilla scent, hear her sweet laughter… Those things exceeded simple
“attraction”.

Maybe on some unconscious level, he’d acknowledged he loved
her. And that small part of him hadn’t permitted him to give his whole heart
and affection to another woman…because they’d already belonged to Gwendolyn.

He lifted his gaze to Evelyn’s face, drawn in tight lines of
anger. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“Is that supposed to make it better?” She huffed, disgusted,
and waved his apology off. “I don’t need your ‘I’m sorry’. I walked into our
relationship with my eyes wide open, believing we could be happy. And we would
have been.”

“Maybe for a little while,” he conceded gently. “But not
indefinitely. In the end, you would’ve been hurt far worse. And hated me for
it.”

“I was willing to take the chance.”

Silence loomed between them as they faced each other, former
lovers, almost life partners. The past weighed heavily on his heart and he was
ready to shut the door on it and go to the woman who was his future.

“It’s ironic,” Evelyn murmured. “Neither of you realized how
the other felt and yet you somehow ended up together anyway.”

He stiffened. Shit. He’d woken up in an alternate universe
and every time he turned around, another revelation kicked him in the teeth.
“Explain.”

She hesitated. After several tense moments, the stubborn set
of her mouth softened and she sighed. Her lashes lowered until only a narrow
blue strip remained visible. “The night Joshua died I overheard Gwendolyn
speaking to him. She…” Evelyn paused, cleared her throat. “She broke off their
engagement—”

“She what?” He hadn’t heard right. He couldn’t have.
Gwendolyn had never mentioned calling off the wedding.

Evelyn nodded and met his gaze. “She broke off their
engagement,” she repeated. “Joshua erupted, called her names. Accused her of
loving you and she didn’t deny it.”

“Oh God,” he whispered, his breath a harsh razor over the
lining of his throat even as a fist of regret tightened his chest, shutting off
all air to his lungs. Like a drunken sailor, he spun around, lurched toward the
front door and flung it open.

“Let yourself out,” he tossed over his shoulder as he
crossed the foyer and bounded up the stairs at a dead run.

“I was suffering in silence…only the love of a maiden
willing to accept me as I was could transform me back into my real self. My
dearest! I’ll be so happy if you’ll marry me.”

—Beauty and the Beast

“I love you.”—Xavier St. James

The minutes ticked by like hours. Logic reasoned that
twenty-three—Gwendolyn glanced at the gold-framed clock on the bedside
table—twenty-four minutes had passed since she’d left Xavier with Evelyn. But
the torturous seconds might as well as have been an eternity.

After the first ten minutes, she’d abandoned her vigil on
the window seat. Evelyn’s sleek Aston Martin parked in the circular drive
hadn’t moved and every second the vehicle remained impelled Gwendolyn closer
and closer to the edge of paranoia.

Her imagination had supplied several scenarios…each one
worse than the last.

Xavier hearing Evelyn out, then escorting her to the door.

Xavier listening to Evelyn’s pleas of forgiveness, accepting
them then kissing her farewell before she left the house.

Xavier wiping away Evelyn’s tears as she begged him to come
back to her, him telling her of course he had missed her desperately, and then
the pair surrendering to passion right on the floor.

“Damn.” She groaned and tunneled her fingers through her
hair, sweeping the curls away from her face. Like a glutton for punishment, she
stepped in front of the wall mirror and stared. The curls tumbled down in a
wild, burnished mass. So unlike Evelyn’s smooth, stylish chignon she cringed.

The other woman embodied the cultured, moneyed world Xavier
moved and lived in. She was the accomplished hostess he required for business dinners.
The connected socialite who could trace her family roots back to the Mayflower.

And she…she was…

The woman who loved him.

In the mirror, her brown eyes narrowed, turned fierce.

Yes, Evelyn might belong to Boston’s elite, but Xavier
belonged to
her
. She could give him laughter, passion, tenderness and a
swift kick in the ass if he needed one. In the last week, she’d done all of
those things and, God willing, she would continue for the next fifty plus
years.

Shaking off the melancholy and self-pity, she wheeled away
from the mirror and headed toward the bedroom door. Twenty-four—another quick
glance at the clock—twenty-eight minutes should be long enough for the other
woman to unload her guilt and apologies. It’d better be, because she sure as
hell refused to stand by and hand-deliver Xavier to his ex without coming clean
herself. Time to admit everything. About Joshua. His death.

Her love for him.

The thought of his reaction caused a vise to grip her
stomach and tighten. But she breathed through it. She couldn’t
—wouldn’t—
allow
anxiety to deter her. At least if he sent her home, it wouldn’t be as the
coward she’d been for so many years—first with Joshua and then with him. She’d
been held captive by fear and insecurity far too long. Xavier wasn’t her mother.
He wasn’t—

The door flew open. The wood bounced against the wall and
her heart lodged in her throat. She bit back a squeak, but couldn’t prevent her
eyes from widening at Xavier’s sudden and dramatic appearance.

His name hovered on her lips but remained there, unspoken,
as he entered the room and shut the door behind him with a quiet click more
ominous than his arrival.

Shock hadn’t released its cold grip. She remained a frozen
statue, lips parted, eyes as wide as saucers. The austere lines of his face
revealed nothing. But his eyes.
Whoa.
They betrayed what seethed behind
the stern mask. The green fire blazed and for an insane moment it was as if
flames licked over her face and throat.

What the hell had happened downstairs?

“I have a question and I want you to answer it,” he said
quietly. An uneasy shiver skated down her spine. “Yes or no. Do you
understand?”

She nodded, loath to disagree given his present state.

“Did you call off the wedding and break off the engagement
to Joshua the night he died?”

She gasped. Nausea cramped her stomach and rolled over her
like an enormous tidal wave, threatening to suck her under. Black, fuzzy dots
swarmed her peripheral vision. The air in the room thinned, disappeared and,
damn, she was going to faint.

“Gwendolyn.” The razor-sharp voice lashed out at her and
cleared her head like an arctic blast. In seconds, the dark edges in her vision
receded and she could breathe again. Her heart slowed to a somewhat normal
rate, but the nausea lingered, as did the twisted knots in her stomach.

She met his bright stare. “Yes.”

“Why?”

Why? Moments ago she’d been ready to confess all, but
now…now that the time had arrived dread filled her chest like a block of
concrete. The courage she had gathered trickled away like water circling down a
drain. God, he had the power to crush her.

“I couldn’t.” She shook her head and held her arms out,
palms up, as if she didn’t have anything else to offer him. “I’d convinced
myself I could go through with the wedding and the marriage, but sitting there
at the rehearsal dinner, I knew I couldn’t. Not when…” She faltered and her
heart pounded so hard, she feared it would burst out of her chest. “When I
couldn’t give him what he deserved in a wife.”

“What, Gwendolyn?” He stepped forward. His gaze bored into
her, commanding the truth. “What did he deserve?”

“Love. Honesty. Fidelity,” she confessed, allowing her arms
to fall to her sides. “I might not have betrayed him physically, but he didn’t
own my heart. I told you we had agreed to abstain from sex a year before our
marriage. The truth was I couldn’t have sex with Josh any longer. It damaged
something inside me every time. Not only was I deceiving him, but the guilt
sickened me.” She splayed her fingers over her abdomen as if even now shame
churned in her belly. “In the long run, I would have made him miserable and I
couldn’t cause him any more pain. Even though I didn’t love him as a lover and
wife, he was still the best friend I had.”

“Who did you love?” Xavier moved so fast her breath snagged
in her throat. One moment he’d been several feet away and the next he loomed
over her, her face cradled between his large palms. He stroked her cheekbones
with his thumbs, the caress firm and demanding. “Tell me, Gwen.”

Gwen. Joy surged, hard and fierce. He’d called her Gwen.

“You,” she whispered. “I love you.”

He moaned her name and crushed his lips to hers. Teeth
collided, tongues tangled, lips suckled. He feasted on her like a starving man
at a banquet. Equally hungry, she cuffed his wrists, rose on tiptoe and claimed
him even as he branded her.

“Baby,” he murmured, scattering kisses over her chin and
jaw. He returned to her mouth and groaning, plunged deep, his tongue sweeping
the interior.

Gwendolyn loosed his wrists and squeezed her arms between
his to wrap him in a tight embrace. She clung to him, pressing her breasts to
his hard chest. The rigid column of his erection nudged the flesh between her
thighs and she rolled her hips against it, a sweet ache radiating from her sex
to every limb.

She dragged her mouth away from his.

“Xavier.” Her breath burst from her lungs as she buried her
face in the crook between his neck and shoulder.

“Why didn’t you tell me, baby?” He released her face, but as
if he couldn’t bear to stop touching her, he cupped her nape and gripped her
waist.

She lifted her head and shook it. “I thought you would blame
me for his death. I did.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Josh was so angry that night.” The images were so clear
even six years later. “I couldn’t blame him. I’d hurt him so horribly and I
hated myself for a long time. When he left, he wasn’t rational. If I hadn’t
ended the engagement, he wouldn’t have been so upset. He wouldn’t have died.”

Finally, she’d admitted her secret guilt. Silence permeated
the room. Each second ticking by was like a lifetime and she couldn’t bear not
knowing his reaction. She opened her eyes.

And stared into the face of redemption.

A soft cry escaped her lips. She bowed her head and leaned
forward until her forehead bumped his chin.

“I was so scared,” she rasped, voice hoarse with the weight
of unshed tears. “So scared you would hold me responsible.”

“Gwen. Baby.” Xavier pinched her chin and tilted her head
back, forcing her to look at him. “Joshua’s accident was a senseless tragedy.
No one is to blame. For six years you’ve been a prisoner of a shame not
belonging to you. If you had come to me, I would have never let you bear the
burden alone.”

Again she shook her head. “That would have been incredibly
unfair. You were with Evelyn and dealing with your younger brother’s death. How
could I tell you I had broken up with Josh the night before our wedding because
I loved you?”

“How could you not?”

The quiet question arrested her. Set her pulse off in rapid
beats. Doubt veered toward longing. Longing edged toward cautious joy.

“Your turn,” she insisted and delivered the same demand he’d
issued minutes earlier. “Tell me.”

“I love you.” Xavier speared his fingers through her curls,
gripped her head tight and demanded her undivided attention. “I loved you when
I had no right. Even when I felt guilty as hell for wanting you, I did.” He
gave her head a small shake. “You’ve pulled me back from the abyss, Gwen. I
have hope when a week ago I was hopeless. I look into your eyes and believe I
can be the man I once was. And the person I could be for you. With you.”

“I’ve dreamed of you saying this to me.” She touched his
jaw, his lips, the precious, precious scar. “I never thought my dreams would
come true.”

Xavier lowered his head and brushed a kiss over her mouth.
Joy filled her, spilled over in breathless laughter.

“I love you,” she vowed and reached up to cradle his cheek.
“So, where do we go from here?”

A blinding smile spread wide over his face, stunning in its
beauty.

“Why that’s simple, baby,” he murmured, and she melted at
the tenderness reflected in his eyes. “We live happily ever after.”

I was born the daughter of a sharecropper…okay, maybe not.
But I am the daughter of a pastor, from whom I inherited my love of romance.
The man can preach a mean Song of Solomon! (There’s that plug, Daddy! You can
pay me later!)

Although my first book starred a cucumber named Fred, my
first romance came several years later in the seventh grade when I wrote myself
as a heroine opposite Ralph Tresvant from New Edition. Through the power of my
pen and imagination, Ralph took one look across a crowed stadium, met my dark,
mysterious gaze, fell passionately in love and serenaded me in front of everyone—once
we had the inevitable fight, a.k.a. black moment, and made up with a passionate
declaration of love and fidelity. The same story reincarnated itself many times
over the years—with Donnie Wahlberg from New Kids on the Block, Brad Pitt,
Denzel Washington and, as recently as last night, Vin Diesel.

Though the characters have changed, my love of love has
endured. Shaping the lives of the unique men and women who experience the
first, hungry bites of lust, the dizzying heights of passion and the tender,
healing heat of love—nothing compares to it. Except maybe discovering new material
for love scenes with my husband, the head of Research & Development!

Naima welcomes comments from readers. You can find her
website and email addresses on her
author
bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.

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Bargain With the Beast

ISBN 9781419942624

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Bargain With the Beast Copyright © 2013 Naima Simone

Edited by Violet Hughes

Cover design by Kendra Egert

Cover photography by Jennleblanc.photoshelter.com and
Shawshot/Shutterstock.com

Electronic book publication April 2013

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