Seduction (3 page)

. “This one means
escape death.
The other is private.”

Robyn cradles my arm. “Escape death?” She throws Garrick a look before she asks me, “Are you in trouble? Oh my God, is your tongue pierced, too?”

I smile and stick it out. She shakes her head. “I can’t believe you. Mom is going to kill you. Then that tattoo will have
real
meaning.”

“Are you done examining me?”

“No,” she says, thrusting her hand on her hip. “Where’s the Prius?”

I nearly choke. “I traded it for my bike.” Mom bought it for me for high school graduation and transferred the title to my name. As far as I’m concerned, it was mine to do with as I pleased. I hated that car and everything it represented.

There’s a period of silence. My gaze sweeps the kitchen. It’s huge. Painted pale yellow with white trim. I notice the Viking stainless-steel appliances and the high-end dining set. I remember when my sister couldn’t afford groceries. I’m so happy for her. “Congratulations on your marriage. I’m sorry I missed the wedding.”

Garrick nods. “We
missed
you.”

“Yeah,” Robyn agrees. “Now, tell me why
you
and
Craig
are together.”

We all sit down and Craig hijacks the conversation. He doesn’t leave out
any
details.

“A beer bottle?” Garrick questions me.

I nod. Craig gives me a nasty look. “If looks could kill,” I say.

“
Stupid
kills, girl,” he snaps. “She needs to leave town.”

Garrick inhales. “Maybe.”

“Hey,” I say. “I don’t need the three of you deciding my fate. I’m here to start over. I’m going to get a job at the Devil’s Den.”

“Doing what?” Robyn’s shrill voice sounds like Mom’s.

Should I risk saying it? “Dancing.”

Robyn squeals and holds her hands over her mouth. “This is my fault. Mom predicted something like this years ago. She accused me of being a bad influence. Oh my God.” She shoots up out of her chair and starts pacing.

Garrick follows her and wraps his arms around her. “Calm down, baby.” He looks over his shoulder at me. “Any other surprises?”

My shoulders droop. I’m stupid. Really inconsiderate. I show up unannounced in the middle of the night and expect my sister to embrace my wild ideas without question. She’s always been open-minded, but me stripping might be too much for her to handle. I remember all the talks she had with me, warning me that dancing is the furthest thing away from glamorous a girl can get.
Consequences,
she told me,
they are real and never go away.
I shiver.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” Robyn cries. She gasps for breath.

I stand—she’s having one of those panic attacks. Garrick sweeps her off her feet and carries her upstairs. Tears gather in the corners of my eyes as I gaze after them.

“You’re a nightmare,” Craig says coldly.

He’s an overbearing asshole. He’s deliberately pushing me, insulting me every chance he gets. What is he, a playground bully? “Back off.”

He scoots his chair out and stands. He’s so close I feel his hot breath on my neck. He grabs my arm and gives me a gentle shake. “I expected more from you,
Robyn’s little sister.
” He lets go and stalks away. I hear the front door close. A minute later he revs his engine and drives off.

Now I’m nameless. I’m shocked at how much his insult stings. Garrick comes barreling down the stairs. He looks pissed, too.

“Sit down, Marisela.”

I do. “Is she all right?”

“Yeah.” He rubs his face. “She’s eight weeks pregnant. The doctor says she needs as little stress as possible. We’re not sure if it’s a high-risk pregnancy yet, but her blood pressure is too high already. This shit doesn’t help. At all.”

“I’m sorry.” Tears fall. “I’ll get out of here.”

Garrick grabs my hand.

“If you do, it’ll upset her more. You’re my little sister now,” he says with all sincerity. “But you’re a young woman, too. I won’t interfere with your life choices. But if anything upsets my wife like that again, you’ll answer to me. Understand?”

“Yes.” My brother-in-law is intimidating to say the least. He commands respect, and I’ll give it to him. “You want me to stay?”

“I want you to march up those stairs and take a shower. The guest room is directly across the hallway from the bathroom. Then I want you to go to bed and think about everything you said tonight. I can’t begin to guess what’s happened to you. But I can see you’re struggling with something. All this crap,” he gestures at my leathers and tattoos, “doesn’t impress me or your sister. Time to grow up, Marisela.”

He gets up, pushes his chair in, walks around the table, kisses me on the top of the head, then quietly goes upstairs.

I rest my head in my hands. This night didn’t turn out the way I expected.
Hell,
my life hasn’t turned out to be anything remotely close to what I wanted. Trouble follows me. I shouldn’t be here. I belong in a hotel room or boardinghouse, not in this pretty home with my perfect sister and brother-in-law. Robyn is pregnant. I sigh. And she’s so fragile. I swear she’s lost weight. I don’t want to be the cause of any more stress—but if I leave…
Crap.

I trudge to the fridge and open it. There’s a ton of food. I guess a guy as big as Garrick eats thousands of calories a day. I grab an apple. A shower and bed sounds so good.

I’m pissed. That little…I pull into the Den’s parking lot. Talk about throwing a wrench in my plans. I’m finally over Robyn, but then her little sister shows up and plunges me into the past. I can’t help myself. There’s something about that family—those girls. Even photos of the eldest sister make my blood boil. Natural attraction. Fate. Bad fucking luck. I park and get out of my car. Doormen are escorting dancers to their cars already. I go inside, straight to the bar.

“Rum and Coke.”

Glenda gives me a double shot. “I heard what happened. I also got a quick look at the girl. Talk about uncanny resemblance…”

“Yeah. She’s everything Robyn would never be, though.”

Glenda’s eyebrow arches. “What’s that supposed to mean, Craig?”

I’ve been friends with Glenda for years. She knows me, good and bad. “She’s a spoiled brat.”

“Don’t be acrimonious. That’s not a very nice thing to say about a girl who whacked a guy over the head to keep you from getting stabbed.”

She makes a good point. “Maybe not,” I say. “I spent twenty minutes with her and she’s already under my skin.”

“You mean you want to screw her?”

I give her the evil eye. “Really?”

“Craig,” she laughs. “You’ve slept with half the girls in this club. Don’t play innocent with me.”

“Come on, Glenda,” I say. “She’s Robyn’s little sister.”

Her gaze flicks to my face. “All the more reason.”

That’s some twisted thinking…or is it? Do I feel subconsciously guilty? I dated twins in high school. Not the same. I suck down my drink. “Give me another.”

She hands me a double. “Easy, boy.”

“Can’t help it.” I glower at her. She’s one of the few people who get away with talking to me the way she does. I can’t help that women chase me like bitches in heat. What am I supposed to do? Celibacy isn’t in my nature. “Where’s Desire?”

Glenda snickers. “She watched you leave with that girl and took off early.”

“Great.”

“Can’t you go one night without company?”

“Can you?” I counter.

“I’m married, asshole. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

I roll my eyes. “Can’t teach this old dog new tricks.”

“Monogamy isn’t a trick, Craig, it’s a choice.” Glenda throws down the bar towel she was wiping the counter with. “I’m willing to make a wager. Tell me what that little girl was doing here.”

I’m reluctant to share what I know. “Marisela wants to dance.”

“Darren will be thrilled. She’s as pretty as Robyn. Wow.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Hah,” she says. “Why not?”

“It doesn’t feel right—and it’ll break her sister’s heart.”

“Probably will. No one wants their baby sister stripping for a living. But if Marisela does, I’ll bet you a C-note you’ll be after that sweet ass within a month.”

I clear my throat. Glenda is sly. She’s been employed at the Den for twenty years. She knows everything about everyone—employees and customers alike. “That’s ridiculous.” She’s up to no good. “What’s this really about?”

“I’d wager a thousand dollars on any woman I think will knock you down a few pegs. The only reason you’ve never tried to get down my pants is because I’m old and ugly.”

I laugh. “And married.”

She throws a towel at me. It hits me in the chest and falls to the floor. “One month?” I’m starting to like the sound of this.

“Yup.”

“You’re on, wench.”

I’m up by ten. I smell bacon,
real
bacon, coming from the kitchen. I have only a few sets of clothes with me. I put on a pair of faded Levi’s and a halter top and head downstairs. Robyn is standing in front of the stove. All the windows are open, and a cool breeze passes through the house.

“How unusual is this weather?” I ask, snagging a piece of bacon from a plate on the counter. Robyn stares at me. She looks better. “What happened to all your hippie food?”

She smiles. “It’s still around, but once in a while I indulge. Garrick’s eating habits have rubbed off on me. Did you sleep well?”

I shrug. “What little sleep I get is always good. I’m really sorry, sis.” I mean it. I often teased her by calling her Saint Robyn. Looking at her now, so frail and beautiful, my conscience can’t handle the guilt. She really is an angel; she’s still talking to me after what I did to her last night. “I should have called.”

“Yes,” she agrees. “I can’t fathom why you didn’t. I understand the rift between you and Mom. But me? I’ve always had your back, little girl. You missed my wedding. Didn’t even call or send a card.”

I kick at the floor tile, then look up. There’s no excuse for my bad behavior. “I’m so sorry. Believe me, I didn’t want to miss it. My ex gave me a lot of grief, Robyn. I’ll make it up to you somehow. I promise. Do you
really
want me to stay here?”

“Yes.” There’s no hesitation. But I see the disappointment on her face. “Are you going to tell me about your ex?”

I give her a bear hug. “When the time is right.” Now doesn’t qualify. And I don’t like thinking about him. I quickly change the subject. “Where’s Garrick?”

“He went to his office for a few hours. He thinks we need sister time.”

“Do we?” I ask stupidly.

“Yeah—I have a few questions.” She sets two plates on the table. “Sit.”

I devour the scrambled eggs in a few bites.

She watches me closely. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten a full meal?”

I shrug. “Three days.”

“Marisela,” she says, shocked. “What’s going on? Where have you been?”

“Kicking around Austin.” I don’t want to get into specifics.

She eyes my clothes, hair, and general appearance. “When did you highlight your hair?” I have heavy blond and burgundy streaks. “A year ago. Like it?”

She fingers a strand and grins. “It’s very pretty—trendy. And your belongings? Garrick said you only have one bag.”

“Yeah, well…” I fidget with my hands when I get nervous. “I left the city in a hurry.”

“Shall we drive up tomorrow with the truck?”

“No!” I jump up. Then, to avoid alarming her, I sit back down. “There’s no need.”

“Where’s your guitar? Clothes? Jewelry?”

“I pawned my guitar.”

She frowns. “Marisela, that Gibson Les Paul cost nearly three thousand dollars. We need to get it back.”

“I’m not driving to Austin,” I flatly refuse. “I can buy new clothes, and I have my jewelry box.”

“Who is he?”

Does she have mother’s intuition already? “Estevan Beltran.”

“And?”

I suck in a breath.
Holy shit.
I’m here less than twenty-four hours and the very reason I fled Austin is about to bite me in the ass. I don’t ever want to hear his cursed name again. “He played football for Baylor. We met a few days after my first semester started. He transferred to Austin College the following semester on scholarship and asked me to go with him.”

“Did you live together?”

“No.” I look her in the eyes. “Never.”

“Where is he now?”

My chest tightens. My palms are suddenly sweaty. “I don’t know. And I don’t care.” I take our empty plates to the sink. “He’s bad.”

“How did you live?”

“I played guitar for random house bands.”

“Your idea of survival is definitively different than mine.” She’s standing behind me and wraps her arms around my waist. “I’ve been where you are, remember?”

“Corpus is nothing like Austin. That city…it’s evil.”

She grabs my hand. “Turn around, Marisela.”

I do, very slowly. “Did someone hurt you?”

I swallow the tears, but I know my eyes are red. “Don’t press me.”

“Were you raped?”

“No.” I stomp my foot. I’m not accustomed to answering to anyone in my family anymore. I don’t like it. She strokes my cheek.

“Are you lying to me?”

“I
don’t
want to discuss this anymore, Robyn. Please.” I’m desperate to change the subject. “Isn’t there something better to talk about? Your marriage or pregnancy? This beautiful home…” I look around again. Fine artwork—crystal—china—granite countertops and matching floor tile. “This place is a palace.”

She blushes. “Thank you. We’ve done a lot of renovating over the last year. Especially the kitchen. Dad and Mom were very generous. They paid half the costs.”

My mouth drops open. “You’ve made peace with them?” If that’s the case, I’ll fall over. My sister was kicked out of the house at fifteen, which caused a lot of problems in my family. I hated the way my parents treated her—like she didn’t exist, just because they thought she’d lied about my uncle, who behaved inappropriately with her. Trying to get her drunk—touching her.

When Garrick and Robyn got engaged, Mom and Dad softened a bit and promised to start over. I’m hopeful they followed through.

“I wouldn’t call it
peace
necessarily. But they did admit guilt about showing preferential treatment to their other children and gave me a nice check as a wedding gift.”

“I’m surprised you accepted it.”

“Things are better between us, Marisela. We talk often and even have dinner together once a month.”

My sister will never change. She’s always so willing to forgive and forget. “Are you happy?”

Color floods her cheeks. That’s answer enough. “I never thought I’d find love like this.” She cups her tummy. “And now…”

I smile in appreciation. “At least one of us made the right choices.”

“You’ll find happiness, Marisela. I promise.”

“If I can stay in one place long enough. Do you mind if I head to the mall to get some clothes? I have a little money left over from selling my guitar.”

“Sure—want me to go?”

“Only if you’re willing to ride on the back of my bike. I have the need for speed.”

“If it were only me…” She smiles. “Go ahead. Be back for dinner at six.”

I nod and then head upstairs to get dressed.

I’m about to walk inside the main entrance of La Palmera Mall when I see Marisela’s motorcycle a few feet away in a no-parking zone. She’s leaning against it with her back to me, wearing red leather pants and a gray hoodie. She thinks she can hide her tiny waist and ass or that beautiful hair underneath that oversized shirt? I walk closer. She’s on her cell, arguing, oblivious to anything going on around her.

“I’m never coming back!” she yells. “It’s none of your business where I’m at. Really? You think so? You already took everything away from me…”

I can only imagine what the asshole on the other end of that call is saying. I’ve heard it a hundred times before in the dressing room. Insecure boyfriends making every kind of threat, some of them even making good on it. Only this time, I need to protect the intended target. I’m obligated to look after this girl. Kid. Woman. I haven’t quite settled on a label yet. When I recognized her at the club, memories flooded my mind. Good and bad. I remember the night I met her. Her reaction to me. What she called me—
asshole Craig.
I don’t want her thinking that way about me. I’m not like that anymore.

She’s pacing, waving her free hand wildly. “No. There’s no one else. I’m capable of making it on my own. I start a new job tomorrow. No, I can’t tell you…”

I’ve waited long enough to intervene. I sneak up behind her and yank her hood down. Her hair spills out. She twists around and stares at me, unblinking, those big, stormy blue eyes sweeping me head to toe. She lowers her phone, covering the microphone with her hand. “Craig?”

Before she has time to feel embarrassed, I smile. “Shopping?”

“Trying to.” She holds up her cell. “Never a moment’s peace.” She gestures for me to wait and continues with her conversation. “I need to go. Craig? He’s a friend. Come on…” She’s near crying.

I frown.
Enough.
I edge closer and snatch the phone from her hand. She looks nervous. I hold up a finger, then press cancel. “See?” I say. “As easy as that.”

“I can’t believe you just did that.”

I offer her cell back. She takes it and stashes it in her pocket. “Wanna grab a burger?” I ask.

“Where?” She looks around.

I check my watch. “Let’s get out of here,” I suggest. “There are a few cafés downtown. No big crowds.”

She eyes her bike worriedly. “What about…”

There are a few other motorcycles parked nearby. “Ride with me. This is about the safest place I can think of.” I point to the security cameras mounted on top of the light poles across the parking lot. “See? Smile. You’re being watched.” I grin inwardly. I know the security business. Rent-a-cops always hone in on hotties. “We’ll be back in an hour or two.”

She considers it briefly, then nods. “Let me grab my purse.” She unzips the single saddlebag mounted on the side of her bike, and then takes out a small black purse.

“Where’s your brain bucket?” I ask.

“At home.”

I voice my disapproval. “Why? And don’t feed me that
I like to feel the wind in my hair
line.”

She giggles. “If I’m riding in town, I don’t usually wear a helmet.”

“Not very cautious, are you?”

She slants her head. “I could ask you the same thing…”

I think I know what she’s implying. “Really?”

“Do you always wear a
helmet
?”

Ah
…She’s curious about my sex life. I grin, evilly. “Trojan.”

She gapes at me. “You’re a hopeless pervert.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“Yeah.” She rolls her eyes. “I remember…”

We walk to my car. She checks it out. “Pretty hot. Fast?”

“I dusted you last night.”

“Hah!” That gets a rise out of her. “I let you.”

I unlock the passenger door. She gets in, watching me. I hurry to the driver’s side, get in, and start the engine. She smiles. “It sounds so smooth.”

“Like to go fast?” I ask.

“I’m addicted to speed.”

There’s something innocent about her. I can’t peg it yet. But whenever her eyes light up I nearly lose my train of thought. There’s an incredible magnetism at play here. When I look at her, she’s quick to avert her eyes. I laugh inwardly. I haven’t felt a spark of interest like this in years. I’m sure she’s feeling the same. I’ve caught her staring at me—my lips—my ass. I curse my inability to resist a pretty face. And damn Glenda for pointing out my overt attraction to Marisela.

We end up sitting on a park bench on Ocean Drive overlooking the water with takeout from Whataburger. It’s sunny and warm.

“I’m sorry about last night. But you pissed me off.”

She glances at me. “I’m known for dramatic entries,” she comments. “I didn’t know Robyn was pregnant—I have to be careful what I say and do in front of her from now on. She has high blood pressure and I guess the doctor is concerned.”

I almost drop my burger in my lap. “Pregnant?”

Marisela swings her legs around so she can see me straight on. “You didn’t know?”

I shake my head, stunned.

“You’re still in love with my sister, aren’t you?” There’s a note of disappointment in her voice. She’s assessing me.

Goddamnit.
Why does everyone assume that? I’m ten girls over Robyn. “I’ll always have feelings for your sister,” I admit. “But…” Marisela’s eyes are so fathomless—ridiculously distracting. My mouth goes dry staring at her full lips. There’s a small dimple that shows up in her right cheek when she smirks. “I made peace with her a long time ago. I’m just surprised they’ve chosen to start a family so soon, that’s all.”

“Why?” she asks. “That’s what people are
supposed
to do.”

“Not necessarily,” I say. There’s an insolent glint in her eyes. This one likes to argue. And I have a feeling she likes to fist fight, too.

“What else are people supposed to do?” she presses.

“Fuck.” My heart nearly stops.
Crude asshole.
I gaze at her. She’s blushing—shifting nervously. “Sorry.”

She smiles shyly at me. “That’s a viable option,” she concedes.

I stare as her lips tighten around her straw. She takes a long sip of her soda. I close my eyes and groan. Her fingertips skim my hand. My eyes pop open, sharply focused on her.

“Are you all right?” she asks.

I’m not. And if she really wants to know, who am I to deny her? I slide down the bench, pushing our half-eaten meals off without thought. I cup her head, pulling her face close to mine. Her eyes widen and she gasps as my lips slant over hers. I explore the depths of her mouth, testing her resistance, barely holding myself back. She’s unsure of herself—I can feel it—but not unwilling. She leans into me. I tug her even closer, then deepen the kiss, my breath coming in ragged spurts. I can’t hold back much longer, not with the soft perfumed scent of her hair invading my senses. Or the heat from her lips on mine. She’s a magnet and I’m a piece of tempered steel. Even if what I feel for her is just raw lust, I can’t help myself. The attraction is too powerful to contain.

She pulls back and draws in a shaky breath, but I won’t let her go and assault her lips again. This time it’s more urgent—more possessive. I groan inside her mouth. My hands slip down her sides, gripping her slim hips. I nibble a line of kisses down her throat. “Come here, baby,” I urge. “You taste so good…”

“I can’t.” She goes stiff and pushes away.

I groan in disappointment and bury my face in her hair. “What’s wrong?” She has my full attention.

“I thought we were going for lunch, not…not.”

I square my shoulders, grasping her arms. “Did you like it?”

She frowns and turns away. She’s in denial.

I give her a tiny shake. “Look at me, Marisela.” The fear in those beautiful eyes rattles me. I release her immediately. She’s trembling all over.
What the hell?
I make women weep with passion, not fear.