Authors: Lynne Connolly
Channing glanced away, and without looking Lina guessed Jon was coming back. Despite her public air of cool, Channing Brantley definitely adored her son. A change in her expression, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners just the tiniest bit, told Lina so. She wondered if she betrayed herself like that. Maybe so. She could only hope that Jon didn’t notice, because she wasn’t at all sure that their affair would lead to what she wanted.
She pushed the notion away. Not here, not now, and she didn’t turn around. But Channing must have seen something in her face, because she said, “If you hurt my son as much as you’re capable of doing, I will never forgive you. Take care of him.”
It was as if the older woman was passing responsibility to her. So she didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “I promise. But I don’t know, I don’t think…”
“Don’t be disingenuous. You must know he’s wanted you for years.”
She blinked and her mouth dropped open before she closed it with a snap. “Pardon me?”
Channing raised a brow but didn’t say anything except a sweet, “Have you come to take my charming companion away?”
It was the kind of comment Lina had never known how to deal with in the past. This time she managed a gentle smile.
Jon added weight to the back of her chair when he leaned on it. “I’m afraid so. I came to claim a dance. But I’ll be back, Mother, so prepare yourself.”
Lina wasn’t sure what he meant until Jon got her on the dance floor. The band played a quickstep, and Jon seemed to want to do a waltz. He was too heavy for her to control and he wouldn’t let her guide him—consequently they collided with one couple, who tutted until they saw who it was, then they tossed a couple of good-natured jokes their way.
Lina persuaded him to settle into a kind of gentle shuffle. Much safer. He nuzzled her hair and chuckled, the low sound intimate. “You didn’t know about my lack of rhythm on the dance floor? I can manage a waltz, but not much else.”
“No, I didn’t know.”
“Has it made you change your mind?”
“About what?”
“About me.”
“Yes.” When she heard his sharp intake of breath, she knew her tease had caught him out. “It means we’re not going to try the quickstep again anytime soon.” She nuzzled him back and took the opportunity to push her stomach against him. Even under his clothes she felt his cock stir and she chuckled low. “Or indulge in dance sex.”
He drew back a little and stared down at her face, a puzzled frown on his brow. “Dance sex? Is there such a thing?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised to hear it. Where sex is concerned it seems that any variation gets a horde of followers. But if there is, we’re not doing it. Not if I want to keep my toes.”
“Such a fickle woman.” He drew her close again.
Once they reached the edge of the dance floor she guided him off just as the number finished. “Go dance with your mother. She’ll have braced herself by now.”
“Will you be okay?”
She gave him a wry smile. “Better than your mother, I suspect. I’ll go to the bar and get a drink. Can I get you anything?”
He shook his head. “I’ll catch up with you.”
She headed for the bar, but Ritchie met her on the way and took her back to their table. He bought them drinks. Sometimes she liked old-fashioned manners. This time she’d have preferred to be alone to enjoy the spectacle of Channing missing her son’s heavy feet, but she wasn’t allowed that delight. And soon she forgot all about Channing Brantley and her son.
Jon’s mother decided to go back to her seat for a rest after their dance. He couldn’t blame her, but at least he’d done better than he had with Lina. Since he’d proved himself more than adept at sports at school, showing—or so his football coach claimed—a natural sense of timing, he had no idea why he’d never quite managed to master dancing. In his late teens and early twenties, he’d gained a reputation. Girls preferred to miss dances with him, but since that had usually meant a visit to the bar or somewhere more intimate, he hadn’t complained, and responded to the inevitable teasing with good humor.
Now he wished he could at least escort Lina around the floor without missing his step. He’d narrowly missed her feet a couple of times. Those dainty feet. Even thinking about them made him want to strip her bare and kiss her all over, starting at her delectable toes. He’d never bothered with women’s feet before, but every inch of Lina fascinated him.
After escorting his mother to a different table—she’d taken exception to something her escort had said, and declared it would do him good to find she’d left it—Jon returned to the bar, eager to grab Lina and take her home to begin on his plan. But as he entered, he heard a high-pitched giggle, one he hadn’t heard for a while. Five years. When his eyes had adjusted from the bright lights outside to the dimness of the ballroom, he saw Lina.
She teetered on her heels, and Gary, standing too close to her for his liking, snaked an arm around her waist to steady her. Ritchie had his arm around his wife and Jon strode over as he said, “Isn’t this comfortable? Family together. We should do this more often, make it a foursome.” His jovial expression hardened when he saw Jon. “I thought you’d gone.”
“No.” He didn’t feel like explaining anything, especially when he saw Lina’s face. She’d looked like that most days—or rather, nights. That blurred, unfocused expression in her eyes, the slight smile, bewildered but sexy and the way she wasn’t quite sure what her extremities were doing. She was in constant danger of tripping over her own feet, or trapping her fingers in a door. He’d seen her do that once. She’d hardly noticed.
His heart sank. After all they’d done and been to each other, how could she do this? Hard on disappointment and sheer frustration, fury came. “How long has she been like this?”
She gave him a muzzy smile. “Darling! I missed you!”
He gave her a cold stare. “Obviously.”
Jon turned his attention to Ritchie Farina, who shrugged apologetically. “She’s seen a few old friends tonight.”
After all her protestations and promises, she’d given up so easily? Tight-lipped, he caught her when she fell against him, then handed her off to Gary. They deserved each other as far as he was concerned.
He turned on his heel and strode away, sorrow and fury mingled in his mind. He crossed the ballroom toward his mother, who sat watching the little scene. Before he reached her, Alice approached him, smiling, her hands outstretched. “Jon, I haven’t spoken with you all evening.”
“Hello, Alice.” Had she been waiting for the opportunity? “Give me a moment, would you?”
He’d reached his mother and sat by her side before another thought jolted him. Had Alice been instrumental in giving Lina drugs? Not that it mattered. If she succumbed that easily then he couldn’t trust her. Even after what she’d told him, he would not go further with her. Couldn’t bear the thought of dragging her away from parties drugged up. And watching her decline into incomprehension and scarecrow celebrity. No, he couldn’t do that. Red misted his thoughts, seeped into his mind. Betrayal hurt.
“You’re just abandoning her?”
His mother’s quiet words startled him and he turned to face her, tearing his gaze away from the woman who’d stolen his heart. He’d have to work hard to block her out, no doubt about that. “What else can I do?”
Channing’s mouth turned up at one corner in a derisory sneer. “You’d abandon her to the wolves?”
“What wolves?”
“That woman is hunted.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“She’s an heiress, she’s surrounded by wolves. The word has got around about her trust fund, and as usual, rumor has increased it from comfortable to astronomical. Up to now they’ve stayed away because of your protection and her sobriety. If you drop her now, and so publicly, she’s at their mercy. She’s still vulnerable, only just back in New York and finding herself. So make your choice and bear the consequences.”
The thought startled him out of his self-indulgent fury. Had he abandoned her too soon? Heartsick, he turned back to seek her out but he couldn’t see her anymore. The crowded ballroom had begun to thin out, so he should have been able to catch sight of her. Perhaps her new family had taken her home. He hoped so. “I was too angry to think straight. She promised…” And maybe someone had seen an opportunity to strike at him through Lina. If he stayed with her, she’d always be a weak spot, but if he abandoned her they’d gobble her up.
One more chance? Drug addicts always asked for that. He remembered all the chances he’d given Byron. “I thought you said you wouldn’t lose another son,” he reminded his mother.
She lifted her elegantly coiffured head, tilted it. “I remember. I’m not convinced she meant to do this. Yes, I know the drug addict’s plea. But this time it might have some merit. You need to find out.”
“Always hopeful.” He remembered that, the hope, the promises and then the dive into despair. “Maybe I know too much, remember too much.”
“You’ve been hurt badly. Byron damaged both of us. But you have to work out for yourself if you’re letting that bleed into this situation.” She glanced up. “Ah, Henry, I think I’m ready to leave now.” Her handsome escort nodded to Jon and held out his hand. Channing slipped her own into it in an unconsciously elegant gesture born of years of careful upbringing. “I’ve had a pleasant evening, but I have no desire to spoil tomorrow by doing too much tonight. Take me home, please.”
Jon stood and watched his mother leave the ballroom, as self-contained as ever. As a child he’d held her in awe. He could remember times when she’d admired his poor scholarly efforts, only for him to do better, for her sake. And it was with a sense of not wanting to let his mother down that he set out searching for Lina.
He found her enclosed in Gary’s arms outside the bank of elevators in the main foyer. He glared at the man. “Where are you going?”
Gary met his gaze steadily. “I’ve booked a room. Lina needs to sleep this off.” His hold didn’t appear to be loverlike, but as Jon watched, Lina stirred and hugged him tighter. She was half-asleep, or so high she didn’t know where she was.
Ritchie appeared out of nowhere, it seemed, striding across the foyer when he saw them. “So the best man won, did he?” He grinned at Jon.
“You’re welcome to her. Have a good time.” Jon turned abruptly, his temper rising once more. Getting into a fight didn’t seem like the right thing to do, but when he saw her enclosed in the arms of another man, he wanted to hit Gary until his face was bloody. He hated Lina for arousing this kind of emotion in him. Uncontrollable anger such as he hadn’t known for a long time surged through him. He hadn’t lost his temper like this in years. What had gotten into him?
A sleazy drug addict named Bellina Mazzanti Forde.
An hour later Jon had reached his apartment and showered. After turning the hot water to a sharp blast of freezing cold, his senses returned and he felt shame. It wasn’t her fault he couldn’t control his emotions. He had to, for her sake. She’d been clean for years. Something must have happened to push her toward old habits. He couldn’t leave her like this. He just couldn’t.
He dragged on jeans and a polo shirt and headed back to the hotel once more. He walked, and the cool air helped to clear his head even more. He’d give her a second chance. And a third, if she needed it. The woman he’d seen, known, made love to was worth saving. If necessary he’d move back to Italy with her.
Shit, he loved her.
The revelation was still reverberating through him when he stood at the desk. He moderated his mood to calm so he could address the receptionist and get a civil answer. To his surprise the man made a phone call and told him to go straight up. Jon had fully expected to be turned away, for them to refuse to see him or let him know where they were. Not that he’d give up that easily.
He took the elevator to the tenth floor and found room 1032 without any trouble. The door opened on his third knock.
Gary Farina, jacketless and without his bow tie, but otherwise fully dressed, motioned him in with a jerk of his head.
Jon’s attention immediately went to the bed. Lina lay there, covered with a sheet and blanket.
“If you want to hit something, try the wall,” Gary said. “Listen to me first.”
“I’ve calmed down. I never should have left her.”
Jon wasn’t sure what was going on here. Had Lina passed out on him? As he watched, she turned onto her back and opened her eyes. They seemed to sparkle when she saw him. “Darling, come to bed,” she said, more clearly than earlier. “I need you.”
He and Gary were standing so close he couldn’t tell which of them she meant. But Gary said, softly, “Go to sleep, Lina.”
She pouted and sat up, the sheet falling away from her upper body. “No. Come to bed.” A gleam entered her eyes. “Both of you. I want you both.”
Gary ran his fingers through his hair, disordering the neat strands. “I don’t know what to do. Perhaps you do.”
“You want my help?”
“Please. I’m worried. But if I call a doctor, with her history they’ll arrest her.”
Jon gazed at her. Keep her awake, or not? He needed more information. “Do you know what she took?”
“Rufies. Rohypnol.”
His world shattered. “She’s been doped? Someone slipped her rufies?”
Gary glanced away and back again, obviously unsettled. “Yes, someone did. My father thought he was doing me a favor.”
“What the fuck…?” Out of his depth now, Jon waited for an explanation. He’d come expecting a long night nursing her through heroin or crack cocaine. Not rufies. “Explain. Now.”
“Jon, where are you?” Her voice came quieter now. Gary crossed the room to where a jug of clear liquid sat on a tray. He picked it up and poured a glassful. Ice clinked.
“What is that?”
“Water. Want a taste? She needs to drink.”
Gritting his teeth, Jon strode to the bed and sat so he could lift Lina. He held her close to his body while Gary held the glass for her. Between them, they persuaded her to drink. Afterward, he laid her down and covered her up. Smiling, she drifted off to sleep.
Jon stared at her, but spoke to Gary. “So tell me. How did you know what had happened to her?”
“Because he’s done it before. He drugged women and then threw them at me. He thinks it’s funny or something. The first time I did what he said. I was eighteen. He told me the woman was drunk, and what did I know?” He paused. “Sit down. She’ll be okay now, for a while.”
Reluctantly Jon did as he asked. He didn’t want her disturbed, but he needed to know the whole ugly story.
Gary crossed to the window, his hands shoved in the pockets of his dress pants. He stared out at the bright lights of the city that never slept. Then he turned around to face Jon, who sat in one of the chairs set before a round table, where he could see Gary and still keep an eye on Lina. He crossed his ankle over his knee and leaned back. He got the feeling this was going to be a long night.
Gary studied him with cool eyes. He took a hand out of his pocket to push his glasses up his nose. “The second time it happened, I asked him. He said yeah, he sometimes got women that way. That time I found out what to do and I looked after her before taking her home the next day. She couldn’t remember the previous night. I persuaded her she’d drunk too much. This time I nearly called the cops, but it’s Lina.” He glanced toward the bed where Lina slept peacefully. “They’re more likely to arrest her for using. By the time we’d cut all the red tape and got her out, she’d have fucked half the prison holding cell. I won’t have this done again. Ever. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Why would your father do a thing like that?”
Gary’s lip curled. “See these?” He indicated his glasses. “When I was a kid, Dad convinced himself they were a liability. I tried contact lenses, but I don’t care for them. I might have laser treatment when I can find the time. Long story short, they don’t bother me like they bother my father. And he likes to get his way. That goes in business, too.” He snapped his mouth shut.
Jon went on alert. Gary was close to saying something he hadn’t meant to reveal. He kept silent, knowing the value of waiting the other man out.
It appeared that Gary knew that tactic too. He glared at Jon, but didn’t add to his statement. Instead he turned to the subject of Rohypnol, what to do to combat it, how to make sure the person was safe and well. It made Jon’s blood run cold, but so thankful that he’d changed his mind and come back. He owed his mother for making him think straight.
Lina groaned and turned over, then wished she hadn’t. Her head throbbed like a bitch. She hadn’t had a hangover this bad for a long time.
She stopped, her hand resting over her eyes. “Hangover?”
Beside her someone grunted as he woke up. She didn’t have to look to know it was Jon. “Hey, Lina. How are you?”
“Dying.” She blinked and the clouds began to clear. “Better. Bursting!”
As fast as the thought came to her she threw back the covers and jumped out of bed, finding herself in a room she’d never been in before. Jon’s voice came from the bed. “To your left.”
She found the bathroom and recognized the insignia on the towels. Slowly memory returned to her, at least partially. The dinner, the way people stared at her, and then accepted her, then very little. Patchy, distant. What the fuck had she drunk? She sat on the toilet and relief overwhelmed her.
A gentle knock sounded on the door. “Are you okay in there?”
Would she never stop peeing? “Sure. I’ll be out in a minute.” Her headache began to clear a little, but she could really use some aspirin. After she’d washed up and cleaned her teeth, using one of the fresh toothbrushes provided by the hotel, she felt somewhat better.
When she emerged from the bathroom, Jon was waiting for her. He held out a couple of pills that she eyed doubtfully.
“For your headache,” he explained, and handed her a glass of water.
Vague memories of people telling her to drink returned. “Did I drink that much last night?”
“No.” Something was wrong. She took the aspirin and handed him the half-empty glass. “Come back to bed.” She still had her underwear on. At least she wasn’t fully undressed.
He wouldn’t tell her anything until he’d tucked her under the covers. Then he told her and blew her away.
“Wait. Ritchie drugged me?
Ritchie?
Is my mother safe with him?”
“Safer than she is on her own. From what Gary told me, Ritchie likes to control the people he cares for. Thinks he knows best.”
“So why did he do it?”
“Because Gary wanted you. But instead of taking the gift his father presented him with, he brought you up here and put you to bed. Without joining you.”
Ritchie had given her a date rape drug. She’d taken rufies before, when she was desperate. They were barbs, not really her thing, and they only took the edge off, even with alcohol. But that was then. Now she’d reacted the way people were supposed to. Headache, loss of memory. Probably lack of inhibition. “And you came with him?”
His mouth firmed. “No. Not at first. I thought…”
“You thought I’d gone back, didn’t you?” She couldn’t blame him, not entirely. But it hurt that he hadn’t trusted her.
He didn’t avoid her gaze but met it directly. “I could lie, but I won’t, not with you. For a while, yes. I have a temper, you know that, and I thought I’d better get away for a while. I decided to walk it off, but I ended by walking home. I got a shower, changed, and came back for you.”
She lay quite still, hardly breathing. The answer to her next question was so important to her. “Do you trust me not to take drugs like I used to?”
“Yes.”
She allowed herself to breathe out in a long sigh of relief.
“I didn’t trust myself. I know what it’s like to have someone you care for eaten up like that. I didn’t know if I could do it again. But I knew I’d have to.”
“Why?”
“Because I love you.” He gazed at her, eyes bright with intelligence and anticipation.
Her breath halted in her throat. Now, she had to tell him now. “I love you too.”
He reached for her and dragged her close, so his heart pounded against her chest. Hers joined in, her relief making her sag against him. “I didn’t want to tell you,” she confessed. “I didn’t want to burden you.”
“Well now we’ve burdened each other.” Cupping her chin, he brought his head down. They shared a long kiss, and the world opened for her, like a flower unfolding. Fear had no place in this relationship, nor had secrecy. She had to go all the way, trusting him as much—more—than she trusted herself. Nestling close, she thought she’d never felt so safe. And safe was what she needed right now.
He pressed her down against the mattress. She reached for him, wanting him so much she couldn’t wait. Luckily she didn’t have to.
She dragged at his clothes and, laughing, he reached down to haul his polo shirt over his head, then he shucked his jeans and underwear. She didn’t take long in joining him, her bra and panties joining his clothes on the floor somewhere. She couldn’t care less. The only thing that mattered right now was him, getting him naked and inside her. She wanted to make love, to see if it felt any different from fucking.
Pausing only to don protection, he slid his cock along her soaking crease. Love also made her want him and she hadn’t had to touch herself to find out. The luscious way his heavy erection caressed her, the slick way it slid along her labia told her everything she needed to know. And the expression in his eyes told her everything else. He meant it.
With a declaration of love there might be doubt. Was he telling her because he thought she needed it, or because he had to tell her? Nobody could fabricate that sincerity and adoration she saw now. She had no idea what she had done to deserve it, but was profoundly grateful for it.
He braced his hands either side of her head and smiled as his body entered hers, never breaking eye contact. “So how does that feel? Different?”
She smiled back up at him, then caught her bottom lip between her teeth as he grazed her sweet spot. “Yes, no, I don’t know. So good. Right from the start, so good.” She discovered the courage it took to tell him how much he meant to her and didn’t shirk from it. “Jon, I love you. I really do.”
“I know, sweetheart. Hold that thought.” He pulled out and thrust, pulled out and thrust, setting up a rhythm that seemed like second nature. She braced her shoulders against the mattress and responded. She lifted her lower body to meet him, opening her legs to encompass as much as him as she could. Lifting her legs, she rested them at the base of his back, just above his buttocks. He growled and leaned up, creating an angle that made her gasp. Its intensity was like nothing she’d ever felt before. They were entering new country. Together.
She let him watch her reactions as he brought her up to orgasm, hiding nothing. Love and trust went together as far as they were concerned. And his gaze, his frank enjoyment of her pleasure heightened her arousal, made it spike further and harder. And faster. Oh God.
His balls hammered against her ass with every stroke, marking her ascent into ecstasy. He watched her, his eyes heated, almost black, just the blue rims around them reminding her of the color of his irises. He held her steady, stopped her moving away with the impact of his thrusts.
The world stilled. Everything stopped. All she could hear was his heavy pants, and then she came. The world exploded around her. She twisted, cried his name, and he gathered her up, gripped her tight and spoke her name, over and over. Her vagina clamped his cock, convulsed in long, hard pulses and she collapsed, helpless, against him. He held her safe. He’d always hold her safe. As his orgasm began, he said, “I love you,” so quietly that had she not been so close to him she wouldn’t have heard it.