The Millionaire's Revenge Page 15

  “I doubt I’ll have the energy.”

  “Probably true.” He butterflied her legs open so she was more exposed than she could have imagined. “Gotta love yoga.”

  “I am pretty flexi—” Her breath stopped in her chest as he thrust a finger inside her. With her body already primed from his earlier attention, she went off as soon as he sucked on her clit.

  One crest seemed to double on itself as the tremors waved through her body like the most delicious of storms. He could have done anything at that moment, and she’d be at his mercy. Something about giving in to his power made the whole experience eroticism on steroids.

  After his ministrations subsided and she opened her eyes again, she spotted a look of satisfaction and something much less identifiable on his face. “Damn, woman, that was hot.”

  Barely coherent, she nodded. But she wanted to touch his overly-ripe cock. The veins stuck out like they were about to burst, and she was more than ready to remedy the situation. Just as she was about to ask his assistance in getting free, she remembered the thumb release and manipulated the cuffs to open.

  “How about if I use those cuffs on you now?” She pushed him onto his back and straddled his torso. Her over stimulated flesh needed a little down time, but she could draw every ounce of pleasure possible out of him.

  “My wrists are too big. They’re made for women.”

  She sat back on her heels. “I’ve got it.” She jumped up from the bed, got one of her scarves, and wrapped it around his wrists and through the bedpost. Then she straddled his body and began to kiss him slowly. “Now I’ve got you where I want you.”

  “I’m not so sure I like being out of control.” He pulled at the restraints.

  “What would you do if you had control?” She eased onto his chest with her arms positioned alongside his head.

  “I’d suck on your nipples.”

  She obliged his request by bending lower. “Ah…” She threw back her head, enjoying the sucking of his lips and the swirling of his tongue. “But now it’s my turn.” She blazed a slow trail down his chest to between his thighs. Planting a light kiss at the tip of his penis before drawing him into her mouth. It didn’t take long for him to rattle the bed frame and utter all the things he wanted to do to her. She cupped his balls and flicked her tongue down his shaft until his back arched off the bed, followed by the rip of her scarf.

  He flipped her onto her back, slid on a condom, and drove into her like nothing else mattered. His orgasm exploded through him, setting her off again. Just when she’d thought sex between them couldn’t get any better he’d upped the threshold.

  Everything coalesced inside her mind, and she realized at that very second how much in love she was and it scared her to death.

  How could this not be for real? Never had a man make her feel like she might be the smartest, most beautiful woman in the room—any room, no matter how big or small. Luke’s attention if they were alone or in a crowd had always been focused on her. It had been that way since that first night.

  …

  Luke had become a different person because of her. He’d lost his edge. Whether this whole deal went out with a whimper—highly unlikely—or an explosion, in the end she’d know. And he couldn’t think of a way to keep from hurting Grace in the process.

  The guilt trapped inside his chest made him struggle for breath. He needed to tell her but the words wouldn’t come. As he watched her sleep in his arms, he memorized each feature, knowing that what he’d put into motion he couldn’t stop without consequences. Exposing her father to the world would let everyone know the man hadn’t gotten to the top by hard work. He’d gotten there by lying and cheating, and he’d dragged her through the mud as well.

  She’d never forgive him for what he’d done, never believe he’d stopped pretending with her a long time ago.

  If he were a real man, he’d tell her. But first he needed to figure out a way to protect her from the blast of what he had to do.

  Chapter Twenty

  Grace was barely awake when someone pounded and yelled, “Open up.”

  She glanced at the clock. Six a.m.? Luke had left about an hour ago, and she’d fallen right back to sleep. After last night and this morning, she didn’t want to move, let alone talk to Daddy Dearest.

  She just wanted to cuddle with Luke and talk and dance and watch movies or pretty much do anything. When he was around she felt invincible. But her father’s banging made her wish Luke hadn’t left.

  “Coming,” she shouted as she slipped on her housecoat and walked toward the front door.

  Before she could utter a word he barged inside, with a slip of paper held in his hands. “The idiot is trying to have me arrested. Me! Can you imagine that bullshit? And it’s all your fault.”

  “What are you talking about?” How she’d gotten mixed up in Cyrus’s tirade this morning was a mystery. But she was starting to not care what the man said or thought. That made her feel so good she had to force herself not to smile. Luke’s confidence in her had given a whole new meaning to tolerating her father. “Let me make some coffee, and we can straighten out whatever’s going on. Nobody’s arresting you for anything.”

  “Fraudulent business practices, bribery, you name it. They’re all on the indictment that’s coming through. And your neck is on the line, too. You’d better hope you have a good attorney on speed dial.”

  Her hands shook as she poured the coffee. “What are you talking about?” The hairs on the back of her neck rose. Something about the tenor of his bluster seemed different.

  He threw a piece of paper in front of her. “This guy look familiar?” Leaning over her, he jabbed at a picture until the face came into focus.

  “That’s Luke.” She traced the outline of his strong jaw, his perfect lips. A premonition of disaster swept along her bones until they rattled inside her.

  “And you want to know who else he is? He’s LRM Real Estate Development. That’s the guy out to ruin me…us.”

  She grasped the edge of the counter for support. While her father continued with his rant, something about lawsuits and attorneys and damage control, her heart shattered into pieces.

  “Are you sure?” Her voice came out strained as she fought to harness the tears that threatened to stream down her cheek, but instead lay trapped inside her.

  “Can’t be any surer. Now we have to come up with a plan to keep our asses out of jail and see that son of a bitch buried in the ground.”

  “I don’t understand. How?”

  “He got hold of my financial stuff on the Hudson Bay Project and is using it against me. I don’t know how in the hell he managed to do that unless you gave it to him.”

  Her stomach went into free fall, and she had the urge to dissolve into a heap on the floor.

  He’d betrayed her.

  Luke didn’t steal the financial information from her, she’d been stupid enough to give it to him of her own volition. How he’d acted on it so quickly, she’d never know.

  Everything in her wanted to deny her father’s vile allegation, but she couldn’t. Deep down inside she knew the truth of it. Should have suspected it long ago, except she’d been seeing Luke with rose-colored glasses. She’d known he was too good to be true, kowtowing to all her requests like some kind of lovesick puppy. It was all about her father. Once again.

  Luke was no different than all the other men in her life—he’d used her for what she could give him. This time, the cost was far greater. The other men were distractions. She’d thought Luke was the real deal.

  Apparently, he was nothing but more of the same. Except she’d never seen it coming. Emotion caught in her chest until she thought for sure everything she’d bottled inside her would explode through her rib cage.

  She needed to know the truth. All of it. The only way to beat Cyrus at his intimidation game was to go on the offense.

  “I looked over those bogus spreadsheets you sent me. The ones that verified you’ve been keeping two sets of books
. I want to see the real plans again. Right now.” When he started to protest, she shook her head. She’d no longer give him permission to steamroll over her. “No excuses. I know you have them with you, and I want to see them.”

  He rummaged through his briefcase, presenting her with the drawings. This time, she examined them with different eyes. Ones that weren’t so gullible. “Where are the mixed-income units you promised to include?”

  His breath blew out and he gave her his patented stare that told her to back off. But that wouldn’t happen.

  “Don’t bother. I know exactly why they aren’t in the plans and aren’t in either of the spreadsheets you sent. You had no intention of including them in the first place. You told me what I wanted to hear to pacify me and get me to go into a partnership with you.” She shook her head as anger replaced the devastation. For now. “I never want to see or talk to you again. You need to leave, Cyrus.”

  Use of the word Dad or Father was too good for him. She grabbed his arm and ushered him toward the door. He must have been shocked at her dismissal, because he trudged through her place like he didn’t have a choice.

  “Oh, and I’m moving out of this relic. It’s something you chose for me, not something I chose for myself. I’m done being your lapdog. I know now why Charlie doesn’t talk to you anymore. In fact, I think I’ll look him up and pay him a visit. I imagine we’ll have a lot of war stories to swap.”

  After that, she needed to break down and she didn’t need him to witness her collapse.

  He walked outside without another word. She bolted the door behind him and slumped to the floor as the tears began to fall.

  Even though she’d always wanted a father, sometimes the cost was too high. Cyrus had just proved his price was way too steep for the benefits.

  …

  He knows.

  As soon as Sal texted him the warning an hour ago, Luke had clicked through anything and everything he could find about Cyrus Whitaker, from coverage on the Page Six society page to his numerous and flamboyant ground breakings. Everything was coming to a head. If he could throw everything on Cyrus, despite Grace’s name on the documents, he might be able to salvage her reputation.

  He came back across that picture that had pricked his interest earlier. And everything clicked. Wearing a blond wig when he saw her with Cyrus, she’d looked different on the day he’d cornered Grace and Luke in the shoe store. But he wouldn’t forget those eyes. That discovery set him off on another search until he found the answer. The two of them had been careful, but not careful enough.

  E.J. Green—the woman on the city planning board—was Prentiss Enterprises. And Elise had been rumored to be the mayor’s confidante on urban development. Damn. He’d finally made the connection. Too late to save anything between Grace and him.

  As if on cue, Grace’s name popped up on the text feed of his phone and he jumped. Hoping against hope, he clicked. Even though a part of him had prepared for the worst, he couldn’t have comprehended how he felt when her face came onto the screen. Gone was that smile he’d grown accustomed to, replaced by a somber woman with red-rimmed eyes. He braced himself as the video she’d sent began to play.

  “I should have known. What you did and said was unbelievable from the start. Too good to be true comes to mind when I think of how our pseudo-romance started and ended. I can’t blame you for capitalizing on my vulnerability. All the while I thought I wanted someone completely different from my own emotionless, vengeful, and hate-filled father. The joke is on me, as I ended up falling for a clone of him without realizing it.

  That’s what I’ll never forgive you for. You upped the ante on my ridiculous boyfriends of the past. They’d all been in it for almost understandable reasons—money, notoriety. But you were only about greed. Kudos. You’ve won. I hope you’re happy with the spoils of your victory.”

  The video ended. Every word she’d spoken felt like she’d stabbed him in the heart. The ache felt so real he rubbed at his chest to alleviate the pain. Seeing his shortcomings and failings laid out so succinctly sucked the breath from the lungs. Any thought he might have had that he could win her back had just proven to be a pipedream. Some things could never be forgiven. And this was one of them.

  Despite all logic, he responded with the truth.

  I cheated. I lied. I deceived you. And sorry doesn’t even come close to making up for all I’ve done to you. He sent off the message.

  Seconds later she responded. You’re damn right about that. Have a nice life with all your money and all your possessions, including the Hudson Bay Project. Hope they keep you warm at night.

  Without a doubt, he knew that would be the last he’d hear from her. She hated him, but not nearly as much as he hated himself. He’d been up all night and the better part of the day trying to undo something he’d begun of his own accord.

  But money couldn’t fix what he’d done to her. Nothing could make up for betrayal. His whole life he craved money and security, but now realized, more than anything, he craved someone to love and to be loved in return. That had been the elusive elixir to make him feel whole, not the trappings of wealth. Grace had tried to show him that in subtle ways, but he didn’t get it. Now it was too late, but he could try to make it up to her, even if she never took him back.

  He paced the floor of his condo until he’d probably worn a path into the wood.

  Elise and Cyrus. Elise and Cyrus. And he had the proof that this rested solely on Cyrus. But how could he prove Grace wasn’t involved when her name and her money was intermixed with her father’s?

  If he dropped the bomb on Cyrus, it would uncover her connection and, at the very least, she’d be guilty by association.

  Shit. Shit. Shit. In order to save her, he’d have to make a deal with the devil.

  The papers he’d printed out were grasped in his fist as Sal kept up a steady stream of text messages and voicemails. He let loose a string of profanity as he wrestled with the idea of what he was about to do.

  He’d wanted that building. He’d wanted to beat Cyrus Whitaker more than he’d wanted anything else in his life. But all that paled in comparison to what he’d lost.

  He wanted Grace more than he wanted to breathe.

  Every time he thought about what this could potentially do to her, his chest constricted. Nothing he could do or say would erase the image of the video she’d sent to him, the pain he’d caused her, the confidence he’d shattered. But he wanted to protect her from the blast.

  Because he wanted to punish himself and see the carnage that he’d left one more time, he played back the video. He stopped the screen and focused on her face.

  Someone pounded on his door. His heart galloped. The only reason he even bothered to answer was the distant hope that Grace had come to tell him off in person. Having her do that might dull the ache of her accusation. At least he could see her one more time.

  Worried what he might be faced with, but prepared for the worst, he trudged to the door Maybe by some miracle, he could get her to forgive him.

  But instead of Grace, Sal rushed inside slamming the door behind him. “Thank God you’re still alive. I thought Cyrus might have—”

  “Sal?”

  “You didn’t answer your phone or texts. What in the hell is wrong with you? I promised the district attorney we’d get her evidence of the corruption. She filed the paperwork, but needs the official documentation. We’ve gotta provide the proof so she can secure the indictment.”

  Luke let the words slide around his brain for several seconds. He could do something about this fiasco. Grace wouldn’t forgive him—not that he blamed her—but at least he might be able to sleep at night.

  Grace had taught him the real power was all about doing the right thing. She was the only real thing in his life. His money, his so-called power, his acquisitions were smoke and mirrors.

  “I lost them.” The words nearly stuck in his throat.

  “Wait a minute.” He grabbed Luke’s arm. “What did you s
ay?”

  “They’re gone.”

  “That’s impossible. You said you printed them from her email. How could they be gone?”

  Luke strode over toward his shredder and turned it on, feeding the pieces of paper until there was nothing left. Since he’d already deleted the email he’d sent to himself, he’d destroyed the last of the evidence. “I told you they’re gone. I have no proof.”

  “Was that…?” Sal ran to the shredder and shut it off. “Oh hell no. You did not just do that.”

  “I did. It’s over. And I’m done.”

  “Done? As long as I’ve known you, you were going to bring Cyrus Whitaker down and now all of a sudden you’re letting him off the hook? Have you completely lost your mind?”

  “On the contrary, I think I’ve saved my soul.”

  “Saved your soul? What kind of bullshit is that?” He grabbed the phone out of his pocket. “I’ll call a shrink and get you back to your old self again. This is not the Luke McCall I know.”

  “Exactly. I don’t want to be that person anymore. I want to be someone completely different. I want to move on.”

  “You’re giving up and allowing that asshole to win?” When Luke didn’t respond, Sal continued, “You’re letting him get one over on you, is that what you’re saying?” His attorney shook from head to toe, the anger rolling off him like a giant wave. It both fascinated and repulsed Luke. He and Sal had always been alike in their drive toward the top, and now it seemed they couldn’t be more different.

  He never wanted to be like Sal or the old Luke ever again.

  He’d learned something more valuable from Grace than anything he could have imagined—enjoy life and stop to smell the roses, and don’t get caught up in the details.

  “I’m going to stay in real estate. In fact, I’ve decided to broaden the scope of what I do and sprinkle mixed-income developments throughout Manhattan.”

  “You what? Are you crazy? You won’t make any money doing that. Whitaker caved. The Hudson River Project is back in our hands. We can do whatever you want with it. But here’s your chance to really put the screws to him and put him in jail and get him once and for all out of the picture. Remember all the times he screwed you over on other projects? He’s stomped all over you and everyone else that got in his way. This is your chance to get him to disappear from the real estate landscape. He’ll be history. There’ll be no doubt you’re the number one developer in Manhattan because he’ll be in jail.”