Dirty Beautiful Rich: Part Two

Dirty Beautiful Rich

by

Eva Devon

Part 2

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the work of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

Dirty Beautiful Rich Part One

Copyright © 2014 by Maire Creegan

All rights reserved. No redistribution is authorized.

All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.

For more information: [email protected]

Title Page

Copyright Page

This story would have been impossible without Kati, Theresa, Missy, Misty, Barbara and Patricia but most especially I must thank Lindsey who always holds my hand and tells me to jump. And Jenn. . . Who gave me an unintended push. | For my son. | May you always know how loved you are.

Did You Miss DIRTY BEAUTIFUL RICH PART ONE? | Here’s a snippet!

Chapter 1

J
ulie Doyle couldn’t catch her breath. Just yesterday she’d resigned herself to toiling over an espresso machine making cappuccino art for the next several years while her MFA diploma mocked her every night she walked into her studio apartment. Maybe just maybe, she’d write a good story and she’d make enough money to start paying her debts.
Now
?

Now, she stared across the table at
him
. Her Rochester. Never in her wildest dreams would this guy ever be Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy would never have blatantly looked her in the eye and told her she was going to end up in his bed. Oh no. Mr. Darcy would have said something far more restrained.

She liked Rochester. Oh yes, she did.

Damian Fitzgerald, Earl of Clare, waited. Silently, now that he’d thrown that incendiary piece of news between them. 

But she couldn’t respond. How in the heck was it possible that he wanted her like that? I mean, he was the stuff of dreams. . . And well, she was the stuff of reality.

“Julie?” he prompted, breaking her reverie. “If you have a problem with that, then you shouldn’t take the contract.”

By
with that
, of course, he meant her finding her way into his bedroom for more than just a social visit. This absolutely gorgeous man wanted her.
Her
. It was panic inducing and wonderful at the same time.

For once in her life, she was determined to play it cool. She was not going to be a total idiot. So, she sat up a little straighter. “We’ll see. I’m coming to Ireland and taking the job. I’d be crazy not to. But as to the rest. . . Well. It’s not in a contract, so. . .”

“Are you negotiating with me?” he asked with a soft laugh.

“What?” she blushed. “No. But I don’t want it set in stone that we’re going to have sex.”

His brows rose. “We’d never do anything so plebeian as
have sex
.”

“We wouldn’t?” she asked, her eyes widening despite herself.
Argh
, she was acting like a total innocent.

“No.”

She was extremely tempted to ask what would they do then, but she was afraid he’d suggest a demonstration and well, really, he was already overwhelming her.

“Do I frighten you?” he asked suddenly.

She folded her napkin then crumpled it.  How did she answer his question? “Not exactly.”

“What then?” His voice softened. “Help me understand.”

“I. . . I. . .”

“I promise I won’t bite.” He leaned forward, a glint of wicked humor in his gaze. “Not yet anyway.”

“No one has ever made me feel like you do,” she burst out. She drew in an audible breath to get a hold of herself. “And that’s frightening.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What kind of feeling?”

“Never mind.”

“Are you going to be cruel and leave me so curious?”

She studied him for a second. She could tell him. She could tell him she’d never had an orgasm. She could tell him that when men tried to make her come, she usually just ended up waiting for them to get it over with. About a year ago she’d arrived at the conclusion she was frigid. But she wasn’t about to admit that out loud. Especially not now that he’d brought to life some very non-icy feelings. So instead of hesitating, she grinned. “Yes.”

“Wicked woman,” he replied. He tilted his head to the side, listening to noises coming from the hallway. “Ah. I do believe your friends are here.”

She glanced to the door, wondering if they’d suddenly pour into the room. It was totally bizarre, but she felt the weirdest sort of wish that they hadn’t gotten here yet. Being alone with Damian Fitzgerald was the most alive she’d felt in years.

He stood and crossed behind her, pulling back her chair.

Once again, that delicious scent surrounded her and this time the slight heat of him caressed her as his chest brushed her back ever so slightly. For a second, she closed her eyes, loving this so much it almost hurt. She couldn’t think too much about the future or where this was going. She knew the future was frequently mean as hell. So, she’d take this incredible moment.

But if she lingered any longer it was going to get awkward. She started for the door. “Thank you, Mr. Fitzgerald for the lunch and the job offer.”

“And the other part?” he said.

She swallowed, her whole body tingling. “I—I don’t know. I—”

“Julie?” he whispered.

“Mmm?” 

He slipped his hands around her waist, turned her and pulled her up against his ridiculously rock hard chest. He tilted her head back and let his mount linger over hers. “You are a beautiful woman, and I can wait to have you. If that’s what you want. But I can’t wait to kiss you.”

With those thrilling words, he lowered his mouth to hers and took her in a kiss so hot she could barely stand it. Utterly mindless, she wrapped her arms around him. Opening her mouth, she moaned as he teased his tongue against hers. His hand drove into her hair and he deepened the kiss, their mouths opening wide until she felt he was going to consume her.

The ache between her legs was back. Just from a kiss. But it wasn’t any kiss. It was the kind of kiss that had her mind shutting down, her legs turning to jello and her ovaries screaming that she should abandon any sense and just admit this man was supposed to be the father of all her babies.

He pulled back, his eyes shockingly dark. “Don’t let’s ‘We’ll see’ for too long, Julie. I don’t think either of us will survive it. Until I see you again.”

“You’re not coming to see Stella and Kat?”
Was that her voice?
It was so breathy.

He shook his head. “I’ve much to do and I’m flying out in an hour.”

“But. . .”

“Yes?”

How did she admit that she didn’t want him to leave her. Not even for a moment.

A strange look, an almost dark look crossed his face. A look that said he’d take her in his arms and ruin her forever if she wished it. But then, he stroked the side of her face with his long, strong fingers. He kissed her again. This time it was soft and slow. A promise. “When O’Neil comes to get you, be ready. I want you in Ireland in twenty-four hours. You understand?”

She nodded. She didn’t really understand. Not at all. She had no idea what was happening between them, but all she knew was that her life had suddenly, wonderfully, terribly, careened down a road she’d never imagined possible.

Chapter 2

Damian got out of the Aston Martin and threw the keys to the skycap. Eagle Airfield was teaming with people, all gilded, some easy in their wealth, others broadcasting it like neon signs. The amount of Louis Vuitton embossed luggage was demoralizing. He’d never really understood the need to print brands on everything. If something was beautiful, its beauty spoke for itself without initials to proclaim it valuable.

Like Julie Doyle.

The woman was stunning and so damaged. The last part should have had him running but instead it had drawn him to her with such power he couldn’t turn away. Reading her file had just solidified it. She wasn’t a weak victim desperate for a savior.

Oh no. If a man tried to blatantly save Julie Doyle, Damian had a strong feeling that said misguided savior would get a pop to the jaw. Julie was unsure, not weak. Life had knocked her. Again and again. And that, that was why he wanted to help her. He couldn’t help seeing a part of himself in the young woman.

Once, he’d been frightened too. Abandoned. Lost.

All it took was the right person to help. And he was damned well going to be that person for her.

The rest. . . That was complicated. He wanted to fuck Julie Doyle with the intensity of a man who faced the possibility of never having sex again. No, it was more than that. He wanted to possess her. There was no point in denying it. He wanted to take her body and give her so much pleasure that it never occurred to her to look at another man again.

This was an entirely new side to him. Primal emotions and he didn’t mix. He should have squelched them. He should have gotten her a job at one of his London companies. But he wanted to know her inside and out, not just a corner of her life unseen.

He smiled to himself as he headed for the private jetway that led to his Leer. 

She was going to resist revealing those hidden corners every step of the way. Of that, he was certain. Julie was the perfect challenge, a treasure box that was locked hard and fast. And she had no intention of letting anyone see the beautiful jewels inside her for fear they’d also see the tarnished settings.

He had no issue with tarnished settings. In fact, they were his favorite things.

***

“J
ulie, you hit the jack pot!”

Julie threw her head back and let out an exaggerated groan. “Kat! Don’t say stuff like that?”

Kat waggled her red eyebrows at her, giving her a big hug. “Like what? Do you know where we are?”

“We’re in Vail,” Stella said dryly, pulling her cashmere robe tighter about her body.

Kat rolled her eyes. “Yeah, in the most exclusive day spa in Vail.”

It was true. O’Neill had driven them down literally the moment Kat and Stella had walked in.
Mr. Fitzgerald’s orders
.

From the moment they’d walked into the cool, elegant, minimalist entrance, they’d been treated like well. . . Billionaires. Something the three of them definitely weren’t. Usually, if they’d walked into a place like this, the staff would have been polite yet slightly terse. They’d all but oozed and bent over backward today.

A hot stone deep soak awaited them.

As did another bottle of champagne.

Julie’s head was in the clouds. There was a significant part of her that had very nearly told O’Neil to just drive them back down to Denver, but Kat’s excitement had been too hard to deny. Even Stella had looked like Christmas morning had finally come to a kid that always got coal. So, Julie’d been unable to turn down Damian’s arrangement for them. Something she was almost certain he knew would happen.

It occurred to her that the entire reason Damian had invited Kat and Stella was purely so he would get his way. How could she say no to her friends? She wasn’t sure how she felt about his tactics, but for now, she wouldn’t think too hard about it.

“So,” Kat dropped her robe. “Who’s getting in first?”

Julie couldn’t stop her laugh. Kat had a great body. Lean, toned, sylph like and yet, she was the least vain person she’d ever met. Kat merely loved to be free.

“You, apparently,” said Stella.

“To pastures new!” Kat chirped. “Or baths. Whatever.”

She let out a squeal as she stepped down into the huge tub. Water was rushing into it from a fountain in the wall. The water was piped in from the Rockies, and its minerals were supposed to do wonders for their skin. The base was made of river stone. It was like bathing in rushing Colorado waterway without ever having to come toe to toe with dirt.

Julie clutched her robe, hating that even with her friends she felt a hint of discomfort. Jeez. If she couldn’t get naked with Stella and Kat, how was she ever going to get naked with Damian Fitzgerald? In the dark. That’s how. Maybe she’d buy him a blindfold. She knew it was a stupid thing to get hung up on, but she’d always been a little overweight and then after her mom died. . . Well, therapy was expensive. Cheeseburgers were cheap.

And so her body was not her pride and joy. In fact, her body had in many ways become the map of her sadness. She shook the thought away, determined not to think about cellulite or how it had got there.

“Come on, Julie,” said Stella dropping her own robe and stepping in.

She turned away, closed her eyes then steeled her nerves. She had to start loving herself sometime, didn’t she?