Authors: Lynne Connolly
He opened the packet and sheathed his cock. He watched her all the time, the wet, inviting pink cleft between her legs, the smooth muscles of her lightly tanned back begging for his touch.
He grasped her waist, pulled her back and slid his cock between her legs, bending his legs to get a better angle. He took his time, touched her clit with the tip of his cock. They both groaned. “Don’t tease,” she gasped. He made a soft sound halfway between a sigh and a groan before leaning forward to kiss her between the shoulder blades. He let his tongue play there, searching for any sensitive spots. He found one. She expelled her breath in a long hiss.
He had to take his cock in hand to insert it that precious half inch inside her soaking pussy. Her hands tightened on the handles, her knuckles turning white. “So good.” She whispered it so low he could hardly hear her. “Get in. Right in.”
He didn’t need to hear that to do as she demanded. He entered bliss.
Inside lay perfection. She tilted her bottom up a little and together they found the right spot, the sweet spot. Now all he had to do was not come until she did. Not hard, surely. But the sight of her beautiful ass shaking in time with his strokes and the feel of his balls slapping against her flesh very nearly had him coming far too soon. Maybe he could think of something else. No, not possible.
He leaned forward and kissed the bump of bone at the top of her back. Her sighs sounded like the most melodious symphony he’d ever heard. He kissed down her spine, counting every nub, but when he reached the base he was fresh out of ideas. But she was close. He felt the flutter of her inner muscles as they began to spasm.
And then they clenched his cock, hard, and he was a goner. All he could do was hold on to her and enjoy the surges of sensation as he emptied himself into her. Body, heart and soul, she took it all.
They woke up in his bed a couple of hours later. He rolled over and found her there. The pleasure made him sure he wanted her here for the foreseeable future. He leaned up on one elbow and kissed her. She smiled up at him dreamily, but he knew her expression was reflected in his face. “You look good here, in my bed.”
“Mmm. It feels nice.”
“Move in with me.”
“What?” Her eyes clouded with bewilderment and he could have kicked himself. He hadn’t meant to ask her quite so abruptly. But yeah, he’d started now.
“I want to make sure you’re safe. With a mad bomber on the loose—”
“Wait a minute.” She spread her hand over his chest. He wanted to wriggle, to get her to stroke him. He refrained. “For a start, the mad bomber’s in Italy, not here. And considering what happened when we came in here, I don’t think this is the safest apartment block in New York, do you?”
He grimaced. Alice had damaged him in more ways than she knew. He hoped she wouldn’t hear about that part, otherwise she might gloat. “The concierge here knows Alice. She probably got the keys from my mother. I left her a set in case I locked myself out. The concierge has a set locked up so tight it’s easier to try to break in. I have alarms set.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And Alice knows how to disarm them?”
He glanced away, then back at her face. “No. I forgot to set them this morning. But I promise, while you’re with me, we’ll go armed.”
“You have a gun?”
“I have a license. I can get one.” He wanted her to stay here so badly, but he’d started his campaign wrong. If he pushed her now, she’d say no. So he dropped a kiss on her nose and another on her mouth. “Think about it. I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”
“And you don’t think I’m safe at the Dakota?”
He saw the shadow cross her face, the way she tightened the muscles around her mouth before taking a breath and relaxing them. “Lina? What is it?”
She swallowed, then looked back. “I swore once that I’d never live with my mother again. Do you know what went on in that house?”
He gazed at her, didn’t take his attention away for one minute. They were about to pass some kind of barrier, he was sure. He saw decision and indecision mixed, but he couldn’t force her. “Tell me. I know nothing about that.”
“Why do you think I got engaged to Hanson?”
It was so long since he’d thought about it that he had to make an effort to remember. “You got engaged to a man forty years older than you were. I thought you’d done it as a joke. Then, after you left with Byron, I thought maybe your mom had pushed you into it. Everyone knew she was short of money by the time you left.” He paused. “Did she know about your trust fund?”
She let out a breath. The warmth fluttered against his cheek. “I think so. I didn’t. The fund said that I either had to be over twenty-five, or married to a respectable man, one the board administering the fund approved of before I could get control. The interest went back into the fund so my mother couldn’t even get hold of that. I guess my father thought he’d left my mother enough for us both until I got to a responsible age. We would have done, if my mother hadn’t been such a spendthrift.”
“You helped.”
“Yes, I did.” She gave a wry grin but it faded fast and the expression on her face changed to a haunted one.
He stroked her skin, feeling helpless, hoping that it would help her some. He had to hear this. His throat tightened when he considered the possibilities. What had happened. What she’d done.
She spoke quietly but steadily and met his gaze all the way through. “When I was sixteen, my mother introduced one of her boyfriends to me. That must have been when the money started getting tight. I didn’t want to know him, didn’t want to do it, so they got me drunk. I woke up next to him in the morning.”
He didn’t think he could speak. Slow-burning rage crept through his body and he welcomed it. If he’d had that gun now, he’d have gone across the park and found her mother.
She swallowed, but carried on, despite the tears moistening her eyes. He wanted to stop her, but she needed to tell him and he had to hear. There couldn’t be any secrets between them. Not secrets this toxic, anyway. That she’d chosen to trust him this far humbled him. “He’d been kind, I guess, but I’d still call it rape. He was twenty years older than me, and he thought it was a joke, having mother and daughter. When he left, someone else took his place.”
He didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to know any more, yet he had no choice but to listen. “Were there others?”
She nodded. “I hated it. I never did go for the older man, I guess.” She forced a smile. He’d never felt less like laughing. “Some were kind, some were brutal. I guess I’ve been raped, yes. Then Byron found out.”
“Oh, fuck.” Byron the idealist.
“I persuaded him it was fun, what I wanted, because he’d have tried to kill them. That’s why we originally started dating. I could hide behind him and it meant she wouldn’t find me any more men. My mother encouraged him—he was rich, you see, and from a rich family, old money too. She saw our relationship as two fingers to the WASPs. She never saw that she was ostracized as much for her behavior as for her birth and background. She’s related to Italian aristocracy, you know, and she’s a bigger snob than anyone I’ve ever met. So Byron became my boyfriend. And he knew where to get the really good stuff.” She swallowed again. “It helped.”
He’d bet. It helped her forget and put up with the travesty her mother was making of both their lives. It helped put a fuzzy screen between her and what was happening to her. “So that’s why you got engaged to Hanson?”
“He fucked me, then he wanted to marry me. By then my mother didn’t care. She just wanted money.”
She pulled back and stared at him, waiting.
He knew what she expected. She thought he’d reject her. But he couldn’t. Mustn’t. If he did, she could fall back to what she had been and the thought of her doing that broke his heart. So he pulled her back, urged her to rest against him. “You took the drugs to escape.”
“Something like that.” She laughed bitterly. “Poor little rich girl, right? But apart from that, everything was good. I didn’t starve, I could shop until I dropped because I had no idea we were so broke, and I had friends. I partied. So it wasn’t all bad.”
“So why did you run away?” And he knew nothing? Byron hadn’t told him because by then the rift between the brothers was too strong to break. He’d never forgive himself that this was going on under his nose and he had no idea.
Her body nestled against his, her nipples pressing against his chest, her legs twining with his. The muscles in her legs tightened and her back stiffened. “That day, Mom said she’d had enough. Said the money had run out and I had to marry Hanson or force Byron to propose. Marty Hanson had money, you see, and he wanted me. He’d had me, but he thought I’d make a great trophy wife. Arm candy. All that. She didn’t give me a choice. And I knew if I said no, she’d drug me and I’d do it anyway. Or even worse, she’d take my drugs away.” He heard the sob in her voice, but no tears came.
“She provided your dope?”
“No, but she knew I used, and she’d found my works, so she knew I was shooting up by then. She could have cut off my supply. My mother never took drugs, or only did it socially. She prefers alcohol. So she had a threat. She could have me arrested. That night she made that threat. Hanson, Byron or the cops. I chose Hanson.”
When she shuddered, he kissed the top of her head, held her, murmured soothing words while he blazed with fury. A shame Hanson was dead—no it wasn’t. But he’d never willingly share the same air with her mother again. Only if he had to, to retain Lina. He’d do it for her.
“Byron said your parents had threatened to send him to a rehab unit. It scared him shitless. So we met, I told him about Hanson, he told me about his problems, and we decided we’d do it. Just go. We decided on Rome because it was the first flight we could get out of JFK, and I spoke Italian. So did Byron, a little, and he learned fast enough once we got there. At least the words he needed. Just like my mom can ask for wine in ten different languages, Byron knew the words for coke and heroin.”
“You’re telling me that last part like it happened to somebody else.”
The sheets rustled as she moved, but only to shift against him and settle in a slightly different position. “By then it was. I saw everything through a haze, like it was happening to somebody else. I didn’t feel, didn’t think. That was what I aimed for when I started taking drugs, and it finally happened. I’d made it.” She lifted her chin. “So now you know I’m a rich woman, does that affect the way you feel about me?”
“No,” he said, and because she seemed to need it, he kissed her. After that, he needed her as much as she wanted him. She always made him feel that way. One taste was never enough.
He rolled her onto her back and came on top of her, pausing, waiting for her to push him away, to show any sense of fear. But he saw none. And he felt no revulsion either, none at all. Testing it in his mind, he decided he wasn’t sure why, just that it hadn’t touched the Lina he knew. The Lina he was coming to love.
He’d left condoms on the bedside table, and he grabbed one now, but she took it off him. She tore open the package with her teeth, spitting the top aside without taking her attention off him. “You sure?”
He kissed her. “I’m always sure.”
And as she sheathed him, making him shudder with desire, he knew he’d only spoken the truth.
“Ah, shit, what time is it?” Lina sat up in bed, the sheets falling away. She grabbed for the watch she kept on her nightstand. Only it wasn’t there and something fell to the ground.
“Mmm?” Beside her, Jon stirred. “What?”
“I said I’d go to the Children in Crisis benefit tonight.”
The sheets rustled as he stirred and rolled away from her. “It’s only seven. You have plenty of time.”
“With my hair like this? I’ve got to go home and change.”
He sat up and reached for her. She’d grown accustomed to the dim light now, and she could see his dark shadow looming over her. How many nights had she woken up to find just that scenario? Another man, usually a lot older than she was, another body wanting a taste of her. But she knew this was Jon, and he didn’t scare her. Not at all. If she’d tried to force the emotion, it wouldn’t have worked.
A new revelation. To wake up with a body she couldn’t see properly and yet know who it was. His scent, his shape and his warmth were so uniquely Jon her body recognized him before her mind did. She couldn’t ever remember waking up in these circumstances before and not feeling afraid. But that had gone now.
She lifted her hand and found the reassuring warmth of his firm, lightly furred chest. “Are you coming?”
“Sure. I got an invite and forked out for the ticket. I wasn’t necessarily planning to go, but I’ll go if you do.”
That made her feel better. She didn’t want to go alone. “I’ll call a cab.”
She swung away but he caught her and hauled her back into his arms. “You’re not going back to the apartment, are you?”
“Sure I am. Why not?”
“After what you told me?”
She laughed softly. Everything felt so much better now she’d told someone the whole, sordid truth. If he’d turned away from her, she’d have understood—it’d have broken her heart but she would have understood—but he didn’t. He didn’t. “You might not have noticed, but my mother’s current husband and his son weren’t in my rogue’s gallery. They’ve tamed my mother. She’s coherent most of the time, and they’ve given me a lot of kindness and consideration. For all they knew I was the instigator, I was the bad girl, but they brought me into their home.”
“Still, I don’t like it. I want you here. Lina…” His voice trailed away.
“What?” No secrets, not anymore. She couldn’t bear it, not between her and Jon.
After a pause, he told her. “I’m having Farina and his son investigated. And their company.”
“And?” She wasn’t entirely surprised. She’d already guessed how protective Jon felt of her.
“Not much. The company isn’t doing as well as they’re saying, but that’s not unusual these days. I’m looking into buying more stores, and some of the newsstands seem to be available, so I started the investigation as a standard inquiry. I don’t know. I just get the feeling that I’m missing something.”
“They live in the Dakota. Do you know what apartments in that building cost?”
“Didn’t you tell me it was a family apartment? That they’d inherited it?”
“But it also contains a number of valuable antiques.” She was torn, but eventually she told him. “The apartment is tied to the family. They can’t sell it and profit. But they could sell the contents, if they needed to, I guess. The Farinas have been nothing but kind to me.”
In fact, Gary had been more than kind. If she hadn’t had Jon, she might have accepted his offers of dinner, getting to know each other. He’d made it clear he meant as a date, not as a relative. But she didn’t feel much for him. Not enough, anyway. He’d accepted her refusals with good grace, never pushed her for more. But telling Jon might not be a good idea right now. “You’re paranoid. Or you’re jealous. You want me all to yourself, don’t you?” She gave him a teasing smile.
“Oh yes, most definitely.” He dragged her close and took her mouth in a deep, possessive kiss, exploring her with his tongue briefly before he withdrew. “If you wait for me, I can dress and take you over there, then wait for you while you change.”
Wow, really possessive
. But she liked the idea. “How long will it take you to get ready?”
He flung back the covers. “Shower, shave, tux, bow tie—half an hour, tops.”
In fact it took him twenty minutes. He stood before her, immaculate, as if he’d spent hours getting ready. She envied him. “It must be bliss, knowing what you’re going to wear, not having to put on makeup and do your hair.”
He laughed. “You think so?”
She’d only dressed. She’d shower at home, where she could do her legs and armpits and use the body lotion she preferred. If she’d shared his shower, they’d have taken a lot longer than twenty minutes, and they were short on time. Next to him, she looked like the ragamuffin she’d been until recently.
“Sure. It’ll take me about an hour to get ready. And I’m not sure what to wear. I’ll decide when I get there. Then I have to accessorize and do my hair. All that. Mom will have spent a couple of hours at the spa.”
“You could have done that.”
“I didn’t remember the affair until I woke up just now.” She laughed. “But since I came back, it hasn’t really appealed to me. I have better things to do.” She drew a finger down his starched shirtfront.
He caught her hand, kissed the tips of her fingers. “You want to go to this benefit, or not?”
“I guess.” Though she wasn’t as sure as she had been.
It took a little longer to get around the park to the Dakota, but Lina still had plenty of time to shower and get ready.
Her mother did a double take when she saw who was with her, but sent Jon into the lounge and furnished him with a drink. Jon took a sip and put the glass aside, Lina noticed before she left the room to enter her own. Probably too strong. Her mother’s idea of a dry martini was to frighten the gin with the vermouth, rather than allow them to get into contact with each other.
Entering the lounge an hour later, Lina smiled to see him in deep conversation with Gary. They made a handsome pair. Gary’s slightly geeky look worked well with Jon’s tougher, harder appearance, and both men filled out a tux well.
When they stood, their impeccable manners coming to the fore, she noticed that Jon was a shade taller than Gary, but there wasn’t much in it. But Jon’s shoulders were broader, his stance more erect and although both men gave her warm, admiring perusals, Jon’s held more heat. He warmed her from the inside out.
She wanted him again, already. She’d never enjoyed sex a whole lot before. Compelled into it from the age of sixteen, then finding Byron, who’d taught her the value of laughter and playfulness, and now Jon. For the first time she realized she didn’t know anything about love, not really. She’d never known love before. Never known what making love really meant, and the difference between it and fucking. Now she did.
She went to his side and laid her hand on his arm. He grinned down at her. “You want compliments? You look completely and utterly gorgeous. That shade of red is perfect on you.”
She knew that. She’d had her seasonal colors done years ago. Not that she told him that. She’d rather bask in his compliments. She’d chosen her favorite red silk, a gown that covered her from neck to ankles, skimming her body so that when she moved, a hint of her curves molded the fabric. When she walked, she created a lot of hints. A simple gold chain around her neck, another around her wrist and discreet ruby studs completed the look. Her shoes were high Laboutins, red all over, right down to the signature red sole. She’d swept her hair up in a twisted knot, fastening it with a gold clip, all she’d had time for.
Just one of the pieces she wore would have kept her for a month in Naples. Would have paid for the books for her college course. She wanted to do that again, only here. She’d already started making inquiries. If she was quick, she could get into somewhere soon. Maybe they’d give her credit for what she’d done already.
Her mother appeared next, resplendent in purple, but she frowned when she saw Jon. “I thought Gary would escort you.”
Gary lifted a brow. “We can both escort her.” He pushed his gold-rimmed spectacles up his nose. “Or I can drift away and see if I can’t find someone of my own to escort.” His leer didn’t look quite right, but it was a good effort.
Tension arced between Gary and Jon. “We’ll see you there,” Jon said. “I brought my car. I live on that side of the park, so I’ll leave it there and walk home afterward. Or get a cab.” He glanced down at her. “Ready?”
Charity benefits had never been such fun. Lina enjoyed the speeches for once, with Jon’s hand warming her thigh. She thought of changing the game, daring him to go further, but decided she wouldn’t do that just yet. One day. The fact that she could imagine a future with him said a lot about the way her thinking had changed. College, Jon—the future was really shaping up.
Some people showed mild surprise at seeing Jon at their table, and his mother, also present, didn’t offer to cross the room to speak to them, but nothing daunted, Jon took her across to Mrs. Brantley when the meal and speeches had ended.
Lina hadn’t any idea what he intended to do until too late, when Mrs. Brantley had seen them and watched their approach. Her escort, a distinguished older man she didn’t recognize, got to his feet. Feeling strangely shy, Lina smiled and nodded when introduced to him. She recognized the name as a member of New York’s banking community, and thought how glad her stepfather would be to meet him. Not for the first time she understood how different their worlds were in reality. Wealthy, living within a mile of each other, but rarely meeting. New York was indeed a series of separate villages, but not necessarily geographical ones. Jon was sponsoring her into crossing the divide.
Channing Brantley gave her a frosty smile, her blue eyes assessing. But not, Lina realized sometime during the conventional exchange of pleasantries, hostile. Merely cool. Before she had taken Mrs. Brantley’s reserve as wholly antagonistic. Maybe she’d been wrong.
With a smooth technique Lina could only envy, Channing sent the men away, Jon to find her a drink, and her escort to ensure the car would be available when she wanted it. Neither errand was necessary. But they wouldn’t come back until Channing let them. “I wish I could do that.”
“What?”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. You control everything, everyone around you.”
“No, I don’t. I merely make things comfortable.”
By now the band had begun to play and people were leaving the tables for the dance floor. Lina and Channing could converse without anyone hearing them. And if Channing talked to her, it would make her reentry into New York society so much easier.
She’d been aware of the reserve many people had for her, even moving away when she approached. With the approval of one of the queens of society, that reticence would melt away as if it had never existed. And it would show she was forgiven for leading her son astray. She couldn’t blame them, not after what she’d done, and she’d prepared herself for a long siege, or failure. She’d told herself she didn’t care, but however much she tried to harden her attitude, it still hurt when people turned their backs on her. Now she wanted to fit in for Jon. Society accepting her would make things easier for him.
Channing probably rarely noticed, just expected, and she was rarely disappointed in her expectations.
“I’m sorry about Byron,” Lina said, more to get it over with than anything else. If old money society did anything well, it was refusing to notice things that didn’t fit in with its world. But she wouldn’t do that. After all, Channing had loved Byron, spoiled him.
“So am I.” Channing curled elegant fingers around the stem of her wineglass, but she didn’t pick it up. She rotated the nearly empty vessel on the crisp white tablecloth, watching the pale liquid churn. “But he had it in him.”
“You knew?” She really had to stop blurting things out.
Those perceptive eyes turned to her now. Channing met her gaze frankly. “Yes, of course. He was a sensitive boy. I thought his art might be the making of him, but the experts I consulted said he was adequate, no more.” Her mouth curled disdainfully. “However, if someone can sell a slovenly bedroom for millions of dollars, I thought he might find a niche. Byron needed something to steady him. Something to believe in. Did you know that when he was a child he considered becoming a priest?”
That evoked a smile. “Yes, he told me. He said it was childhood rebellion.”
“Partly. But the life appealed to him, too. He studied the Bible, looked into becoming an Episcopalian minister. But it passed, and he found something else. He was a clever boy with no focus. Jonathan always knew where he was headed. He needed little help.”
That might be why she concentrated on Byron rather than Jon. “He found heroin.”
“I know. I hoped it was another phase, that it would pass like all the others. I looked everywhere for him when you left. For you both. But you hid well.”
“Not really. We just stayed in places you wouldn’t think to look.”
She shuddered. “I don’t want to imagine.”
Lina forced a smile. “They weren’t that bad.”
Channing laid a slim, tastefully jewel-bedecked hand over hers. “Nice try. I’m under no illusions about Byron. Not anymore.” She withdrew her hand and picked up what remained of her drink.
A thought struck Lina and before she’d properly thought it through, she asked, “Did you send someone to find us?”
“Many someones. They never found anything.”
But someone had. Someone had found them and sent Byron to find her. Then murdered Byron. Unless they wanted Byron, and he fled to her, only for them to catch up with him. So frustrating not knowing. She’d be content to let things be, had it not been for Franco’s revelation about the bomb.
Nothing to do with the Colleghi
. She believed him, believed them. Maybe they should contact the Colleghi to discover who had taken their name in vain, used them as a smoke screen. Lina had no doubt that the Colleghi had a long reach, and could get to more murky corners than she and Jon ever could. But getting into bed with them would imply a link, and might give them ideas.
No, better not. Shadowy illegal organizations were best avoided.