Dirty Little Promise, Page 2

  God, I’d been so stupid.

  My resemblance to his ex was eerie. My long, dark hair fell over my shoulders just like hers, and our eyes were the same piercing shade of blue. We were the same height, same size, and had the same full lips and feisty smile. It seemed like there was only one difference between us—

  I was alive.

  She’d died in Gavin’s apartment. The article I’d read said Gavin had been the one to find her—in the bathtub. The details had been sparse, and a lot of things didn’t add up. Initially, foul play had been suspected.

  When Cooper had insisted that Gavin would never have harmed her, I hated myself for it, but my mind stewed with doubts. I knew what Cooper didn’t—that Gavin had a penchant for rough sex.

  Maybe things had gotten out of hand between him and Ashley. I wasn’t sure, but that fact had nagged at me, so even though I wanted to move on and forget my affair with the enigmatic multimillionaire Gavin Kingsley ever happened, it just wasn’t possible.

  I needed to hear his explanation. I wanted to see the look in his eyes while he told me the story in his own words.

  After successfully dodging his calls for days, I wasn’t yet ready for what was sure to be one of the hardest conversations of my life. So, when my phone rang for the sixth time that day, I’d expected it to show Gavin’s name on the display. Instead, it was a number I didn’t recognize.

  I never should have answered. It had been Alyssa, Gavin’s executive assistant, and now he was due at my place in the next fifteen minutes.

  I should have been afraid, should have run the other way and fought to erase him from my memory. Instead, I was doing the one thing I knew I shouldn’t . . . agreeing to meet with him. Because whenever I was alone with him, I found myself bending to his will more easily than I would have thought.

  • • •

  Pulling open my front door, I was met with the angry stare of a very sexy man.

  A man I hated.

  A man I still wanted.

  A man who made me feel desperate and confused and wanton.

  Gavin Kingsley’s six-foot-three-inch frame filled out a suit better than any man I’d ever seen. And that scowl on his perfectly handsome face? I wanted to slap it right off. Luckily for him, I was raised with better manners than that.

  “Come in.” I waved him forward coolly, closing the door behind us and leading him into the front room.

  He was silent, taking a moment to get his bearings. How strange that Gavin had never been inside my homey little brownstone. Then again, we’d only been dating a matter of weeks. I only felt like I knew him better, probably due in part to our run-ins at the coffee shop over the past year. But I didn’t know him, not really.

  Gavin’s gaze wandered to a midcentury-modern sofa that rested opposite the windows, and the colorful rug in a geometric print that lay beneath our feet. Seeing my home now through his eyes, I felt self-conscious about my little place. If his home was a work of art, mine was a preschool arts-and-crafts project.

  His eyes were the most brilliant shade of hazel, mossy green mixed with caramel brown, and they sliced through me with curiosity every time he appraised me. Now was no different.

  What did he think about when he looked at me like that?

  All the intimate, stolen moments we’d shared? Or the fact that I looked like his dead girlfriend?

  A cool shiver raced over my skin.

  “Where do we go from here, Gavin?”

  “Pet?” He stumbled over the word.

  I’d never heard Gavin so unsure, had never seem him anything less than calm, cool, and collected. This was new. And slightly unsettling.

  My confidence rising, I straightened my shoulders and met his gaze. “I’m practically an exact replica of your last . . . submissive? Is that what she was?”

  His throat moved as he swallowed, but he made no attempt to answer.

  “Oh, excuse me, aside from the fact that she was younger, thinner, and a dancer.” I drew a deep inhale through my nose.

  What the hell was wrong with me? Suddenly, I was jealous over a dead girl I’d never even met? Yet I couldn’t deny those feelings of uncertainty swimming through me. I’d have been jealous of anyone who had Gavin’s attention before I did. It was such a wondrous thing, so all-consuming and at times so fleeting.

  “Cooper told me everything about . . . Ashley.” Her name tasted bitter on my tongue, and I heaved out a sigh.

  God, I longed for when I’d been in the dark about everything. Gavin and I had seemed so much closer then, but of course I knew it hadn’t been true. Hell, for all I knew, this entire thing was some sick game for him—to seduce the woman who reminded him so much of his ex. And why not?

  His gaze slid from mine and a dark look washed over his features. “Cooper doesn’t know everything, but let’s start with what he told you and go from there.”

  I nodded and led him toward the sofa. There was no sense in going any further into my home. He wasn’t going to be here long.

  Gavin lowered his tall frame onto the sofa that suddenly felt miniature, though I’d never noticed it before. He had a way of doing that, of dwarfing everything else around him until nothing else mattered, until nothing else existed but him.

  “Let’s start with what Cooper told you,” he said.

  “Right.” I folded my hands in my lap. “He told me that you met her at work. She was an escort, and . . .”

  I paused, my heart rate picking up speed as I remembered the tender way Cooper had stroked my hair and murmured sweet things when I’d broken down in tears. Taking a deep breath to compose myself, I avoided meeting Gavin’s eyes, afraid of what I might see there. I couldn’t bear to know how much her loss might still hurt him.

  “You dated for two years, exclusively. You begged her to quit Forbidden Desires. Cooper said that she continued entertaining clients there platonically, until you forbade it a couple of months into your relationship.”

  I looked up, needing some confirmation that this was all true before continuing. Gavin gave me a tight nod.

  I couldn’t imagine him allowing me to date other men while he and I were together, nor could I imagine wanting to. He was so possessive; it just seemed odd to me.

  “There’s more to the story. But then, you know that.” His voice was rough, gravelly, and I realized he was referring to my love for a good mystery, my passion for stories. “Ashley had some demons in her closet that I worked to keep hidden from the world, and from my brothers. It wasn’t their business, but she had a problem with prescription painkillers. She’d started taking them a couple of years before I met her—they were prescribed for an old ballet injury. She had three foot surgeries before finally being forced to retire at just twenty-two. When she watched her friends at the dance company move on, touring the country, getting cast in roles she’d once wanted, she fell even deeper.”

  None of the articles I’d read online had alluded to any drugs in her system. Something told me perhaps Gavin’s influence and deep pockets had kept that part of the story out of the media.

  His long, thick fingers reached out to twist the dial on his wristwatch. “She was my submissive, yes. I’m surprised, frankly, that you guessed that much.”

  “Your dominant nature isn’t exactly a secret, Gavin.”

  He offered me a small smile, the first from either of us today, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. This was a heavy topic, but each and every one of his smiles was so hard won, I couldn’t dismiss it as easily as I wanted to.

  “True,” he murmured softly, stroking my cheek. “That’s true, pet. And you’ve always accepted me, flaws and all.”

  “So, why didn’t you just tell me the truth?”

  A soft inhale and his knitted brow were my only answer. Gavin glanced at his watch. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I have a plane to catch. Come with me, pet. We’ll finish the conversation.”

  I was fairly certain he’d lost his mind, and my expression betrayed me.

  “D
on’t.” His thumb smoothed the line between my brows. “Don’t get inside your head like that. Trust me, just once more. You owe us that much.”

  I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth, thinking about everything we’d shared. He’d been so open about how he grew up, about his mother being a prostitute, which was no small thing to admit. I thought about our day spent at the arcade, winning tickets and eating pizza. I thought about the way he commanded my body, dominating all my senses.

  As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. We weren’t done. Not by a long shot.

  “I have that charity golf outing in Florida I told you about. You had agreed to come with me . . . before.”

  I nodded. “Just give me some time. I need to think about this.”

  He shook his head. “Time is the one thing I don’t have, unfortunately. My plane leaves in an hour. I’ll be gone for two days. Come with me, pet. We’ll discuss everything. I’ll answer every question.”

  The offer was tempting. Just to leave everything behind for sunshine and palm trees and Gavin’s undivided time and attention? The answer would have been a no-brainer a few days ago. I’d even taken the time off work, but now I wasn’t so sure.

  Gavin rose to his feet, and I followed him to the front door where he paused. “I have to go. Pack your bag. Ben will be by in fifteen minutes to collect you.”

  I hadn’t agreed to go yet, but I felt myself nodding along to his command.

  God, it was only noon and I felt like I needed a drink. The effect this man had on me was hard to handle at times. This was no easygoing relationship. It wasn’t a harmless crush. In many ways, it felt like life and death—like being with Gavin, choosing Gavin, would be a permanent decision.

  He twisted the knob on the front door, then hesitated. “One more thing. When I call you, pick up the fucking phone, Emma. It was torture not knowing if something had happened to you.”

  Even though I didn’t want to agree to a single one of his demands, I nodded. I supposed it was fair—he didn’t know if I’d been in a car accident or what.

  “Okay,” I mumbled weakly.

  “This place is great, by the way. Your grandmother would be pleased.” And then he was gone, strolling away with purposeful strides toward his shiny black Mercedes, leaving me more confused than ever.

  I’d thought a face-to-face conversation would clear things up, but instead my head was spinning. I had no idea what I was going to do when Ben got here, but I only had fifteen minutes to decide.

  Gavin had woven me into his web, had integrated himself into my life so completely, and I was held captive. Caught. Unable to walk away—or maybe I was just unwilling.

  Chapter Three

  Gavin

  I stood motionless at the airstrip beside my Mercedes, trying to practice patience and failing miserably. It wasn’t a strong suit of mine, never had been and probably never would be. Checking my wristwatch again, I blew out a slow breath. Emma was late.

  The aircraft attendant emerged from the hangar, looking annoyed. Despite the cool temperatures, sweat dotted his forehead and upper lip. “Mr. Kingsley, I’m sorry but we need to get moving. We’ve delayed the takeoff as long as we can.”

  I nodded. “One more minute. If she doesn’t show, we’ll go.”

  He gave me a curt nod and scurried off again.

  Where the fuck are they?

  I tried calling Ben once more, only to get his voicemail. Again.

  Just as I was about to call it and head to the jet, a black limousine turned onto the tarmac, rolling to a stop a few feet from where I stood. Ben hopped out, his expression sheepish as he rushed to open Emma’s door.

  When she stepped out, I saw nothing but her. The deafening hum of the plane’s engine, the sun’s bright rays, the stench of jet fuel—all of it ceased to exist. All I could see was five and a half feet of the most mouthwatering curves dressed casually in a pair of skintight jeans and a silk top.

  My cock gave a twitch, eager to say hello.

  Not now.

  Maybe not ever again, but she was here, wasn’t she? That had to mean something. But it was the sassy little smirk painted across her pink lips that almost undid me.

  “You didn’t think I’d show, did you?” Emma lifted her chin as she strode past me toward the jet.

  She might have thought she had the upper hand, but little did she know I wasn’t letting her go without a fight.

  “I’m here for answers, nothing more,” she said as she handed her overnight bag to the attendant and navigated the steps carefully in a pair of high-heeled boots.

  As she climbed the stairs, I watched her ass sway enticingly and had to remind myself that it wasn’t right to imagine what color her tiny panties were. It also wasn’t smart to focus on how good it felt just to be around her again.

  No, right now, Emma and I were all business until we cleared the air, until things were right again. And if she caught me staring, it would only put her further on the defensive.

  With a deep breath, I followed her onto the plane and took a seat in the cushioned chair opposite a table, thinking it best to have something sturdy between us. She followed my lead, sitting opposite me as the crew of three followed us onboard and stowed our belongings.

  For a long moment, we said nothing until the attendant approached to ask if we’d like lunch after takeoff. I said yes and suggested she bring a bottle of wine. Maybe that would ease the tension between Emma and me.

  Again, Emma said nothing. She merely crossed her arms over her chest and stared as the door closed and everyone took their places, leaving us to the frosty silence.

  “Well,” I said, clearing my throat.

  “You said you were going to talk. So, talk.” She motioned to me, her eyebrows raised.

  I tilted my head, studying her.

  There was a new air about her now. I’d seen her angry, confused, upset, and elated, but never like this. This hard woman was new. Cold. Calculating.

  And, unfortunately for me, I oddly found that I liked her almost as much as all the other Emmas I’d met. It took effort to hold back my smile at her domineering tone—like a kitten trying to lead a pride of lions—but I managed, reminding myself again that this was business now, not pleasure.

  “I fell for a dangerous man once before, you know,” she said. “I’m not going to do that again.”

  My stomach roiled at the mention of her abusive ex. To be compared to him that way . . .

  I let out a hiss and shook my head. Suddenly, any urge I’d had to laugh before was gone. “I’m not a dangerous man. Impulsive, yes. And controlling.”

  “Demanding,” she added.

  I nodded. “That too. And jealous. But not dangerous.”

  She rolled her eyes and let out a snort of disgust. “You? Jealous? Yeah, right. You practically pushed me into your brother’s arms.”

  “And it killed me every time I had to do it,” I said, balling my hands into fists at the idea of Emma in my brother’s embrace. “But yes, I pushed you to him. It’s true.”

  “It killed you?” Emma’s pretty pink lips pulled into a frown.

  “Every time you went to him, it was like a piece of my soul was being torn away from me,” I confessed, meeting her gaze, hoping she could understand.

  But, try as I might, she stayed exactly the same. Hard and focused.

  “We’re not here to talk about Cooper. We’re here to talk about Ashley. So, tell me about her and don’t leave anything out.”

  “I’ll tell you everything,” I said. “I promise. But first, I have to know. Did anything happen between you and Cooper?”

  “I said—”

  “I know what you said. But if I need to focus on telling you everything, then my mind needs to be clear, and that can’t happen if I’m wondering whether . . .” I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. The thought alone was too much to bear. Of Emma laid out, naked and panting for a man who wasn’t me. For my own fucking brother.

  “That’s your biggest conc
ern right now?” Her tone dripped with disgust, but I forced myself to look her in the eye again.

  “Yes. And maybe that makes me a bastard, but there it is.” I scrubbed a hand over my jaw and shook my head helplessly. “Emma, Cooper is in love with you, and frankly, he’s the better choice for you. I know that. He doesn’t have a mountain of skeletons in his closet the way I do.”

  “He’s my friend,” she said, her eyes narrowed.

  “He wants to be more than that.”

  “That may be, but more than that has never happened,” she said. “Not really. I already told you everything, and I was truthful. We kissed, and I took a bath in his tub. End of story.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief, though I wished again for that bottle of wine. I felt like I was in the middle of a hostage negotiation. Now that Cooper was out of the way, Emma and I had to focus on the reason she’d truly agreed to meet with me, and this road was never an easy one for me to go down.

  Just as I looked around for the attendant, however, I spotted her rolling the cart down the aisle. “Good, our food.”

  Emma remained silent as the woman placed two plates in front of us, two glasses, and an uncorked bottle of white wine.

  “Enjoy,” she said, then rolled the cart away again as I poured each of us a glass.

  “I’m not interested in drinking in the middle of the day.” Emma eyed her glass warily, then did the same to mine.

  “I find that difficult conversations tend to be a little easier with distractions.”

  “So, this is going to be a difficult conversation?” She raised her eyebrows.

  “For me, at least,” I admitted.

  We hadn’t even begun the conversation, and already Emma was seeing a different side to me, one I didn’t show very often. It wasn’t easy for me to let my guard down, to show weakness, but Emma always had a way about clawing her way beneath my hard outer shell.

  She considered this, then pushed her plate away. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Don’t be stubborn,” I said. “You need to eat.”