Thirty Nights with a Dirty Boy: Part 3: A Heroes and Heartbreakers Serial (7 page)

I tugged on his hand.

He let go.

Slowly, I turned to face him. His eyes were dark and stormy, the pale gray closer to the color of thunderheads now. He cupped my face and drew me closer. “Why are you leaving?” he demanded.

“Because there’s nothing here for me.” I shrugged. “You made it clear you don’t share the feelings I have for you. I never much cared to be here anyway. And I’m … tired.” I paused a moment, nodding as I realized the truth of it. “Yes. I am
tired
of trying to prove to myself that I can be strong.”

“You
are
strong.” His voice was raw. His hands clutched my hair so tightly, it almost hurt. “You’re probably one of the strongest people I’ve ever met, if not the strongest. Stay, leave. That doesn’t prove anything. So … stay.”

“I don’t want to.” I leaned in, pressed my lips to his. “The only reason I’d stay … but, you don’t want me.”

Well, maybe that wasn’t the right phrase.

He pulled me back, lips clinging to mine.

When I would have ended the kiss, he backed me up until I was pinned between him and the towering post on the end of my bed. I clutched at his torso, aching for the heat of him and the feel. In some small corner of my brain, rational thought was vying to be heard.
This is stupid. You’ll regret it. This is stupid. Don’t do this!

But almost every action I’d taken with Sean had been stupid.

Did I regret them?

Not even a little, save for maybe those few words that had driven a wedge between us.

“Does this feel like I don’t want you?” he demanded, the words a snarl against my mouth.

Before I could answer, he thrust his tongue past my lips again. And again. And again.

I was breathless when he stopped, but all he did was pause long enough to say it again. “Stay.”

I shook my head. I was done feeling like an outsider everywhere I went. I’d find someplace …

“Fine.” His voice went quiet, deadly quiet.

A shiver went through me as he moved his lips to my ear. “You made an offer when you came to me house, Ella. One million dollars to shag you. Is that still open?”

“What … you can’t. Darla.”

“Let me worry about that. Is the offer still open?”

He lifted his head and stared down at me, eyes glittering.

Blood rushed to my face, suffusing it.
No.
I had to tell him no. Darla depended on this. I had to …

He slid a hand down my belly, past the waistband of my formfitting yoga pants, and then two fingers parted my folds. He slid them inside me and twisted his wrist. “Yes or no, Ella. One last fuck, what do you say?”

I whimpered as he withdrew, then screwed them back in.

“Is that a yes?”

Blind, I stared at him.

He stroked me straight into orgasm. I’d been hovering there almost from the moment he’d kissed me, and he’d known it. Now, panting and wobbling on weak legs, I watched as he sank to his knees in front of me, dragging my pants down. “Consider that a taste. It will only cost ten grand. Do you want more?”

He leaned and pressed his mouth to my sex. “I’ll lick this sweet, hot cunt until you come again, and then I’ll fuck you blind. I’m feeling generous. One night, Ella. I’ll give you one night. You give me that million … and a favor.”

“A … Sean!”

He leaned forward and licked my clit, tugging the swollen bud with his teeth.

“Like that…”

“Yes!”

He chuckled. “You’ve got yourself a bargain.”

My head spun. I had no idea—

“Wait!”

“Too late. We’ve got a deal. And I’ve got…,” he grunted as he boosted me up and drove inside, “you.”

I barely heard him. I was too busy sucking in a breath and trying to adjust to the feel of him inside me.

“One last night, Ella,” he said, fisting his hand in my hair and yanking me close. “And don’t forget that favor.”

Then, all words stopped as he set about driving into me so hard and so fast, he battered the oxygen right out of me.

*   *   *

He was gone in the morning.

So was the check he’d insisted that I write at some point during the night.

My eyes pricked with tears, but I wouldn’t give in to them.

I had plans to make.

I had to figure out where I wanted to go.

I had to talk to the people I’d hired to help me with Nora’s Door—they were going to be doing the majority of the work now, without my supervision. I had to make sure they were up to it.

I had to …

Cry.

Curling up on my side, I gave in to the tears. I should have known they would come.

I should have known I’d never be able to stop them.

Broken, I lay in my bed as the death of my dreams washed out of me in an endless torrent.

Chapter 7

It was an ugly twist to things that I couldn’t leave as easily as I’d planned.

Coming back to Chicago with Nora all those years ago had been harder than I’d ever dreamed. Leaving was going to be almost as hard, although not for the same reasons.

Stacia had just gotten one hell of a promotion, and she was handling it with more aplomb than I probably would have. Short of power of attorney, she was now acting in my stead. We’d communicate via telephone calls and weekly video conferences, and I’d fly in when needed.

But that wasn’t one of the problems in my way. I commanded a small empire, but most of the problems in my way were personal.

And the biggest one was a personal chain I needed to sever.

“I don’t want to see her.”

Tom Holmes, my lawyer, sat across from me, his face set in compassionate lines, but the look in his eyes was one I understood. “I don’t blame you, Ella, but if I were you, I’d make the time.”

“Why?” I stared him down.

His brows rose a fraction, and there was something about the way he studied me that made me think I’d surprised him. I probably had. Not because of the way I’d answered. This wasn’t the first time we’d had this discussion, and I’d answered the same way each time. But now I didn’t have trouble meeting his eyes. Any other time, I had.

He knew.

He was one of the very few who knew now. Oh, there were the lawyers who’d been involved, the judges, Nora. And now Sean. Usually, any time I had to discuss my childhood, it was with halting words and an inability to meet the other person’s eyes.

I’d changed.

A lot of it was because of Sean.

As much as it hurt to think about him, I had to be grateful. He’d somehow given me the strength to find myself. How a few weeks of wonderful sex and laughter could do that, I don’t know. Could me loving him …
letting
myself love him make such a difference? I didn’t know that, either.

But I was a different person now. A better person, I wanted to think.

Stronger.

That didn’t mean I wanted to see the witch who’d spawned me.

“According to her lawyer, she’s feeling … regret. And if you won’t see her and allow her some measure of … closure, then she’s going to contact publishers about writing a book.”

My face went hot. “She can’t…”

He spread his hands wide. “I’m already looking into what I can do to stop it, but the ugly facts are that this is the exact sort of thing people will eat up. We likely
can
prevent them from printing your new name, but if such a book gets published…”

He let the sentence trail off.

I knew what he was getting at.

“People will figure it out. It’s not hard to draw the connection once the dots are there. Nora took over after her husband’s … accidental overdose, since my parents were indisposed, and the foster child she took in…” I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth. I didn’t look like my mother. I did, however, look a great deal like my father’s mother. All people had to do was look for the connection and they’d see it.

They’d see it, and they’d destroy—

No.
Setting my jaw, I looked over at Tom. He’d been my lawyer for years. Nora had found him, introduced us, and made sure I could get along with him before she put him on retainer. He’d been the go-between with all things having to do with my mother and anything related to the girl I’d once been.

“Set up the meeting. But make it fast. I’m leaving town soon, and I won’t be waiting around for her.”

He nodded. “Would you like me to accompany you?”

I almost told him no. Then I said, “Yes. I’m going to want a witness for what I tell her. It might be good to have somebody on hand to keep me from killing her, too.”

Tom laughed.

I didn’t.

*   *   *

The next holdup came from one of the supporters of Nora’s Door. When the food-supply company found out that I would be working remotely for the foreseeable future, they weren’t happy. I had to set up a lunch appointment with the CEO, a man roughly my age with blond hair and a rakish grin. The blond hair and the flirtatious smile made me think of another sexy blond. When he claimed he was heartbroken that I was leaving without giving him a chance, I just snorted at him.

“I can still do my job just fine from a few hundred miles away—even a few thousand, Drake. Now … can you do yours without me here to hold your hand?”

“Ouch, Ella.” He cocked a brow and leaned forward, his eyes narrowed and shrewd. “You’ve gone and developed some teeth, kid. Why are you really in such a hurry to get out of Dodge?”

“I’ve got another project,” I lied. “And you didn’t answer me.”

He sighed. “Fine, fine … but only because it’s you. You turn things into gold, so I don’t expect this will be any different.”

“It won’t.”

We discussed a few preliminary details as we waited for our meals, and he fell into his familiar routine of flirtation and subtle come-ons. This time, it was easier to brush him off, and when he reached out to touch my hand, I calmly pulled away instead of freezing as was my habit. I knew Drake too well by now, though, and I should have realized he was analyzing everything I did.

“So what’s his name?”

I paused over a bite of pasta and looked up at him.

“I beg your pardon?”

“The guy’s name.” Drake lifted one shoulder. “You went and changed. You’re more confident. You’re calmer. And you’re … angry. I can’t think of many things that would bring about that kind of attitude change in a woman so fast. It’s got to be a guy. Who is he? Is he why you’re leaving?”

“Nobody you know, Drake,” I said softly. “And no. He’s not why I’m leaving. He would have been the only reason to stay … eventually. But it didn’t work out.”

*   *   *

The third and final fiasco was the worst, though.

The day before I was supposed to meet my mother, I had a call from a realtor. I’d had a few prospective buyers, but so far, nothing had panned out. I’d hoped to get something resolved before I left, because I wanted to sever that last, final tie to Sean.

No such luck.

But then the call came in from Sheila Heston. I’d actually done business with her before, but she wasn’t my realtor. I wasn’t at all surprised she’d managed to dig up my personal contact information. Sheila was a shark, and it sounded like she was a shark with a prospective buyer for my house.

“The buyer has some questions and wants to go over the house with the actual owner.”

“Not happening.” I studied Google maps. I still hadn’t decided where I was going.

On a whim, I switched over to search and typed something in. After hitting
Enter,
I leaned back and watched the results pop up.

Results for properties for sale in Scotland.

It was stupid, maybe, to even think about it. I’d never go anywhere without a reminder of him. But maybe if I just surrounded myself with reminders, I’d grow inured to it. I could inoculate myself against the misery even.

“Look, Ella … let me be blunt here. I already talked to your agent and that was the same song and dance. I know I’m playing fast and loose here, but my buyer is
serious.
Willing to pay up front,
in cash,
and close within a month. I’m just asking for some leeway here.”

I lowered the phone and stared at it.

Then, slowly, I pressed the receiver back to my ear. “Did you say
cash?
”

“Yeah.” She laughed weakly. “It’s the craziest thing I ever heard. So … are you in?”

“I’m not meeting anybody alone, Sheila. That’s just stupid.”

“Oh, hey. That’s not required, at all. I’ll be there. Bring your agent with you. Bring that bruiser who drives you around. It doesn’t matter.”

I blew out a breath.

No … say no …

It hit me then that if I did this, I’d be that much closer to cutting all ties with Sean.

The house where we’d spent so much time together.

He had left the bar.

I knew he was still working at the B&B, but it wasn’t like I was going to hunt him down there.

This was … it. I didn’t
want
to sell the place because it was a tie to him. Yet at the same time, it was a vital, crucial step, one I had to take.

“Fine,” I said quietly. “But it has to be soon. I’m flying out of the country in a few days, and I won’t be back for quite some time.”

“Schedule is open. Just say when.”

Swallowing the knot in my throat, I closed the browser on the properties. “Tomorrow afternoon. Two o’clock.” I’d be done with whatever hell my mother had planned by eleven-thirty. It would take a few hours to get back in town. I’d go straight to the brownstone. Having a focus would get me through the afternoon. Then I would go home, fall apart.

And the day after that?

I was leaving.

I still didn’t know where I was going, but right then, it didn’t matter.

*   *   *

Evelyn Lyle had once been a rather beautiful woman.

She wasn’t now.

She was hard and lean, her blond hair gone to gray and cut short, and lines fanned out from her eyes and mouth. When she saw me, she rose from the chair and pressed a hand to her lips.

I didn’t pay any attention to that.

I just watched her eyes.

They were empty. Vacant. If she’d ever had a soul, she’d either sold it or lost it long ago.