Dirty Filthy Rich Love (Dirty Duet #2) Page 3

  The sting of that snub returned on top of the newer pain. “Right. Probably because he didn’t want me to know he was in town seeing his lover, Sun.” My voice cracked. “That was sure polite of him.”

  He shook his head. “Sun is not his lover.”

  Yeah well, Weston also didn’t want to believe his father was corrupt or that Donovan had framed a college advisor.

  I wasn’t going to argue about it. “Whatever she is, he’s with her tonight.” And not me.

  Well, I didn’t want to see him either.

  The elevator stopped. The doors opened, and I hustled out, half expecting to see that Donovan had run down the stairs to meet us. But the lobby was empty.

  “I’ve texted my driver,” Dylan said. “We can try to make a speedy getaway, if that helps.”

  “That does. Thank you.”

  Outside, I pulled my coat tighter around me and paced the sidewalk, keeping one eye out for Dylan’s limo and the other eye on the doors to the building in case Donovan showed up. The cold temperature sobered me up and left me with a throbbing headache.

  “Here’s the car,” Dylan said as the limo drove toward us a few short minutes later.

  This was it. We’d done it. Escaped. He hadn’t even come after me. If I was disappointed about that, I wasn’t admitting it to anyone.

  But no sooner had the car parked then I heard my name again.

  “Sabrina, wait!”

  All of us turned together to see Donovan rushing toward us from the building. Rushing toward me.

  “Oh, Christ,” I mumbled. Though inside I felt a little relieved.

  And also a whole lot pissed off. And hurt. So hurt.

  Dylan spoke first, greeting the man who had no business looking as outrageously handsome as he did. “Donovan!”

  It took Donovan a second to pull his eyes from me to the man at my side. “Dylan?” He seemed almost unable to process his friend’s presence. “I didn’t realize you were in town.”

  “I’m visiting Aaron. He has the holiday weekend. I’ll be in the office tomorrow, though.” He snuck a glance at me, and I realized this banal small talk was meant to diffuse the situation.

  Thank you, I mouthed silently.

  Not that Donovan was deterred for long. “We can catch up tomorrow, then. If you don’t mind, though, I need to just borrow Sabrina for the rest of the evening. Don’t worry. I’ll drive her home.”

  Before I knew what was happening, he had his hand on my back and was pivoting me away from everyone else.

  “Hold on,” Audrey ordered. “She’s not going anywhere with you unless she says that’s what she wants.”

  Donovan dropped his hand and turned to her. “You’re protective of your sister. That’s very sweet. We haven’t met, Audrey, but I work with everyone here.”

  She lifted her chin and took a step forward. “I know who you are too, Donovan. Don’t try to bulldoze me.”

  I bit back a proud giggle.

  Donovan took a beat, and I could tell he was trying to remain calm. “Then if you know who I am, you likely also understand that I need to talk to her.”

  “I don’t want to talk to you,” I barked. Which wasn’t true. I wanted to talk to him so bad I’d called him all the way in France.

  “Then you’ll listen.” He shifted his focus back to my sister. “I promise to have her back to you in one piece.”

  I didn’t understand why he was so insistent to talk now. Why did he care? He was already dating other women. Defending himself was needless. It wasn’t like we had a relationship to save.

  But we would need to talk at some point, and before Audrey agreed it was a good idea, she’d have to approve of Donovan’s motives.

  “You need to talk to her as her boss?” she asked, obviously poking at his choice to introduce himself as one of my coworkers.

  “I need to talk to her as her boyfriend,” Donovan corrected.

  “Whoa,” Weston said, echoing my thoughts. Audrey grinned, the traitor.

  “You are not my boyfriend,” I growled, though deep down inside of me I already knew I was going to replay those words over and over again later on. Analyze them. Dissect them. Cut them up and see if there was any possible meaning to them besides as a tactic to grab my attention.

  Donovan let out an impatient huff of air. “Then I need to talk to you as the guy you’ve been fucking.”

  Dylan cringed visibly.

  I fumed. “Not anymore. You made sure that was over when—”

  “Sabrina,” Donovan interrupted, his low authoritative tone impossible to ignore. “Give Audrey the keys to your apartment and tell her you’ll meet her at home in an hour. I’m sure that you trust both Weston and Dylan to make sure she gets there safely.”

  God, I hated everything about him right then. The way he’d inserted himself into my evening plans. The way he made my skin prickle and buzz. The way he made me think I might actually be someone who mattered to him.

  It was too cold to continue standing on the curb arguing, and it wasn’t fair to keep everyone. I was giving in.

  I met Audrey’s eyes. I didn’t have to say anything for her to know what I was asking.

  “I’m fine,” she said confidently. “You should go.”

  “I’ll be less than an hour,” I said, handing her my apartment key. I wasn’t sure I could keep that promise, but I made it anyway.

  She shook her head, nonverbally telling me not to worry. “You have the History channel. That’s enough entertainment to last me quite a while.”

  I waited until the three of them were in the back of the limo, and the door was shut. Then I took a deep breath, turned away from the curb, and stepped toward Donovan.

  Donovan. Fucking Donovan in his tailored suit and five o’clock shadow.

  Walking toward him was like deciding to walk through fire when I was already covered with first-degree burns. It hurt like I couldn’t describe.

  But I was a girl who lived in darkness. His fire sure looked bright.

  He took my arm. It was a polite gesture, and the pressure of his hand felt comforting through my coat, but I pulled away immediately.

  “Don’t touch me. We can talk, but you don’t get to touch me.”

  I know I didn’t imagine the flicker of pain I saw in his eyes even if he refused to acknowledge it.

  “We’ll just talk then.” He gestured to his Jag, which had pulled up along the sidewalk ahead while we’d argued. “After you.”

  Four

  Halfway to Donovan’s car, I realized we were leaving without Sun.

  Not that I minded. But I sure as hell was going to make a point to mention it.

  “You just abandoned your date?” I didn’t want to seem like I cared about his response, but I glanced over at him from the corner of my eye.

  His mouth tightened. “It was a business dinner. Not a date. We came separately. She’ll get her own ride home.”

  That did make me fairly gleeful. Whatever happened tonight, at least I wouldn’t have to wonder if Sun would be dropping her panties for Donovan in the backseat like she had the last time he’d driven her home from one of their dates.

  I knew because he’d later told me about it in detail. It was months ago, and I still writhed with jealousy when I thought about it.

  At the car, Donovan reached down to open the back door, and then held it so I could get in.

  I paused at the curb and met his eyes, the door a barrier between us. “So no going down on Sun in the car tonight then. What a pity.”

  He didn’t flinch. “You’re the one I’m putting in a car, Sabrina. If that’s how you want to spend the drive, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

  A shiver ran down my spine that I hoped he didn’t see.

  “I’m getting in the car to talk.” But maybe I didn’t mean that.

  Did I? How strong could I be in Donovan’s presence? Could I be as strong as I needed to be?

  “Get in the car then.”

  I guessed we’d find out.r />
  I slid across the backseat until I got to the other side and buckled myself in. It was a sad excuse for a barricade, but I pretended it would keep me safe. As long as I stayed on my side, and he stayed on his side, everything would be fine.

  But then he got in next to me, his long legs taking so much more space, his very being taking up even more space. He filled the car. There was no escaping him. He was everywhere—beside me, in my skin, on my tongue. I couldn’t breathe without inhaling him.

  I needed to do or say something to remind myself what the situation was.

  “Just because I’m leaving with you doesn’t change the fact that you came with her,” I said, bitterly as the car pulled away from the curb.

  He studied me a moment. “I came here for you.”

  “Because you just happened to know I’d be at Gaston’s tonight? That makes perfect sense. Bring along your girlfriend. That will show Sabrina what’s what.”

  “I came to the States for you.”

  My heart tripped.

  It had to be bullshit. “And you proved it by going out with Sun the minute you got here. I completely believe you.”

  “I didn’t go out with her romantically,” he said tersely. “I called Weston when I landed. He said your sister was in town. I didn’t want to interrupt your evening. I planned to see you tomorrow. Meanwhile, I needed to negotiate some terms with Sun. We’ve hired her to be the face of the campaign for the merger in Europe, and she’s playing hardball with some additional requests.”

  “So you thought you could wine, dine, sixty—”

  He cut me off sharply. “It was dinner, and I’m in the goddamn car with you. I came back for you.”

  I looked over at him. The car was dark, but there was enough light from the street to see his face. His crushingly handsome face. He seemed tired. Jet-lagged, probably. His scruff was maybe older than a day. His jaw was also tight, like it got when he was frustrated. I wanted to reach out and run my hand along the muscle. Wanted to feel the warmth of his skin burn my fingers.

  I didn’t really have any reason not to believe him.

  He’d called her first, but his reason made sense. If he’d really wanted to be with Sun instead of me, wouldn’t he be with her now? If he said he’d come back to the States for me…

  I’d been so wrapped up with Sun I’d forgotten about the rest. This was the first time we’d been together without the veil. I knew about the file. And he knew that I knew. There were so many bigger things than Sun between us, and if he’d come back for me, was it to…explain? To try to make up a lie? To convince me not to press charges for invasion of privacy?

  “Why?” I asked outright. “Why did you come back for me?”

  “Don’t play dumb, Sabrina. You called me.”

  “I called you, but there could be a dozen different ways to interpret your response when you show up like this. You could have just called me back.”

  “I thought this discussion deserved a face to face, don’t you?” His tone was controlled and even and a little bit threatening, and I wondered for a moment if I should be scared of him.

  But I was always a little scared of him. Didn’t I like that about him?

  I crossed my legs, trying to ignore the pulse between my legs. “Face to face so you could seduce me into believing whatever you wanted me to believe?” If that was his plan, he needed to come up with a new one. I had my seatbelt on and everything.

  “I thought it would be easier to talk honestly.”

  Something in my chest pushed out, like it was reaching. Like there was a part of me that was still holding out hope that we could put everything out on the table, and there’d be a way in there that we could be together.

  But I knew better.

  A of all, given the lengths he’d gone to, putting together my file over the years, I couldn’t be entirely sure he wasn’t a psychopath.

  B of all, I’d already tried the honest approach and it had failed.

  Besides, I knew the truth. I didn’t need him to admit it, and I didn’t believe for one minute that he would. But if he wanted to play the honesty game, then fuck it, I’d play his game.

  I’d tell him his truth before he had a chance to tell me any other story.

  I twisted in my seat so I could stare him dead in the face. “You want honesty? How about this for honesty—I know what it means. That you have all that stuff on me. I already know what it means, so don’t bother trying to come up with some story to excuse it.”

  He tilted his head in my direction, humoring me. “Really. What does it mean?”

  I stared him right in the eye. “You love me.”

  “I do.”

  He’d spoken them no louder than anything else he’d said, and yet those two words echoed through the car like he’d shouted them into a canyon.

  “Oh,” I said. My chest felt heavy. And hot. I was hot. “Oh,” I said again.

  I looked down, suddenly feeling dizzy and shaky and a little like I was going to throw up.

  “Can you handle that?”

  I looked back up at him, jolting when I met his eyes again. “I don’t know.” Fuck. I hated that he could see how vulnerable he made me. “I mean. You don’t even know me.”

  He raised a brow. “Are you sure?”

  “A file of papers about me isn’t knowing me.”

  “I realize that.” He leaned closer, close enough that I could smell the faint scent of his aftershave. “But I knew you then and I know you now. And I know.”

  My entire body vibrated in agreement, as though the cells within me were able to admit something that my brain refused to acknowledge.

  Donovan Kincaid loved me.

  I’d believed it, deep down, I’d thought it was the only thing that made sense. He’d loved Amanda and he’d done the same things with her. The pieces added up. It was a rational conclusion.

  But emotionally I hadn’t been so sure.

  I dropped my gaze. My head was rushing back through everything, putting this new frame on every experience we’d shared together, seeing it through the lens of he loves me, trying to feel if it made sense.

  Two weeks ago all I’d wanted was a chance that he might feel more one day.

  He’d hurt me. Pushed me away. Pissed me off.

  “If you’re so in love with me, why did you insist that a relationship between us was impossible?”

  He pressed his lips together. “You’ve discovered that I’ve been stalking you and meddling in your personal life for the last ten years, and you’re concerned about why I didn’t want to have a relationship?”

  When he put it that way, it did sound kind of ridiculous.

  I chuckled. I was losing it. Yeah, he’s a psychopath, but it’s okay because he loves me. I wanted him to tell me more about how he felt about me, but he was right. I needed to get my priorities straight.

  I looked away for a moment to get my bearings. “I’m concerned about all that too.” There’d been so many things I’d wanted to say about that when I’d called him. “I’m really bothered by it. I’m mad. I’m confused. I’m freaked out. I feel…violated.”

  “Of course you do. You should feel all those things.” He wasn’t patronizing, but not apologetic either.

  “You’re damn right I should feel those things.” I was irked at his lack of remorse. “I think I hate you for it.”

  “Do you?” he challenged.

  I opened my mouth to answer when he added, “Remember it’s no fun if you’re not honest.”

  “I hate you for it,” I repeated, softer this time. I closed my eyes, scared of the next part, the words I hadn’t said aloud to anyone, not even Audrey. “But I’m also fascinated. That you’re fascinated with me. That does things to me. It makes me feel safe. And wanted. And looked after. It turns me on.” I opened my eyes and looked at him. “I don’t mean sexually.” But I did mean sexually too. “Does that mean I’m crazy?”

  He laughed softly. “Probably.”

  He stretched his legs out
, more relaxed than he had been when we’d first gotten in the car. He scrubbed his hand over his face and let out a sigh. “I forget how much I can trust you. I should have done that.”

  There it was. Remorse. He felt remorse.

  “Before running away to France?” I clarified.

  “I didn’t…run away. Exactly.” He smiled ever so slightly, and my pulse beat double-time.

  “You did run away. Because you didn’t want me to find out about that file?” I was still putting pieces together, slipping them in where they seemed to fit best.

  “When Amanda found out about her file, she was the one running away.”

  “So you thought you’d be the one to run away first this time?”

  “I don’t know, Sabrina,” he said with a frustrated huff. “Yes.” After he’d thought about it a second. “Okay, yes.” He looked somewhere in the distance. “I don’t trust how I would handle losing you. It’s better if the ties are cut on my terms. It’s safer for both of us. For you, especially.”

  “But you’re here…”

  His eyes returned to mine. “Because you called.”

  “Which means you’re willing to consider the possibility of not losing me.”

  He searched my face. “Is that a possibility? Not losing you? Even knowing what you know now?”

  Fuck, we weren’t ever actually together and here we were talking in such enormity. Donovan had done that. Had put all this weight on our entire relationship by having been there for parts of my life I hadn’t realized he’d ever been part of.

  So even though I wanted to crawl into his lap or kneel at his feet, even though I ached to touch him, I couldn’t. Not yet.

  “I need to process this,” I said, not allowing myself to sound regretful.

  “Whatever you need. Just tell me.” His eyes darted to my lips, and I wondered if he’d kiss me.

  Or I wished he’d kiss me.

  But kisses weren’t what I needed. “I need answers. There’s so much I still don’t understand.”

  “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

  I studied his eyes. “I think you actually mean that.”

  “If you’re going to test me, Sabrina, just test me.” He sounded almost annoyed, and I had to bite back a laugh. He’d tested me so many times, but turn the tables on him, and he couldn’t take the heat.