Bound Beneath His Pain: A Dirty Little Secrets Novel (10 page)

The following morning, loud beeping pierces the silence. My hand moves to the end table, where the noise is coming from, and smacks against the snooze button on the clock to make it go away. I pull the duvet up over my shoulder, wanting to ignore the sun beaming on my face.

Frustratingly, a minute later, the beeping begins again, reminding me that I hadn’t set the clock, which also reminds me that I’m not alone in the bed, and Micah likely set the clock before falling asleep. Considering we had sex more times last night than I’ve had in the last year, I forgive myself for not recalling him setting the alarm. But I’m sure glad he thought to, or I would be late this morning.

Real estate agents work Saturdays, and that’s nonnegotiable.

Wide awake now and thinking of all the crap I have to do, including finding the Lowes as many possibilities as I can by Monday, I blink away the sleepy haze, feeling the strains of my body from the most amazing sexual experience of my life. Every muscle aches, including parts of my body that feel a little bruised from Micah’s roughness, as well as the junction between my thighs, but I enjoy these particular aches. Which now reminds me that I’m very naked and maybe being late for work to get
more
of Micah wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

I flip over to face him, finding an empty bed next to me. Coldness sweeps across me so fast, stealing my breath, I jerk up to sitting. I pull the cream-colored duvet with me, knowing that he’d been there. I remember falling asleep in his arms, and the sheets beside me are messy and the pillow looks slept on. “Micah,” I call out.

When I hear footsteps coming from the living room, I sigh in relief, glad to know he hadn’t left me. I reach up, flattening out my hair and wiping under my eyes, removing any leftover makeup, when a feminine Spanish voice says, “I’m sorry…” The maid, wearing the hotel’s uniform of all black with a Phoenix’s logo on the right arm, enters the bedroom. “Mr. Holt had an early morning meeting and asked me to make sure you got these.”

She can’t even look at me when she places a pin-striped pantsuit on the bed. I refuse to look at her either, wishing to be anywhere but here. “Please take your time,” she eventually adds, staring at her shoes. “I brought some makeup and everything else you need to start your day.” She turns on her heels, moving toward the door. “Mr. Holt ordered breakfast for you, it’s on the balcony when you’re ready.”

I part my lips to say something to defend myself, but only a bitter taste fills my mouth. Because the worst thing about all this is that I can’t even say waking up to the maid instead of Micah surprises me. This is what happens when you date a billionaire. Work always comes first. I will always come second. And I guess maybe a part of me believed—hoped—
this
would not happen, especially this morning.

But it did…

He left me.

The bedroom door clicks shut and I glance up, seeing the maid’s gone. I shove off the duvet, my skin crawling. I can only imagine some women would love this treatment; new clothes, pampered by the maid, room service. But it’s not what I want. It’s so far from what I want.

I want
him.

And he’s gone.

I ignore the pantsuit on the bed and gather my clothes from last night off the floor. My stomach is rolling while I hastily dress. I find my clutch and shawl on the dresser and my shoes by the end of the bed, and I put them on, awkwardly walking toward the door as I do, not looking around to see if any other hotel employees are in the suite.

Every step through the living room, and then down the hallway, and even when I enter the elevator, becomes harder to take. I’m repeating my mother’s mistakes, and that’s something I said I would never do. Dammit, I knew not to let this happen. But Micah had me believing he was someone
different.

I can only imagine this is how it all begins. First, an empty bed in the morning. Next, personal presents bought by Neil, instead of Micah. My skin slicks with a cold sweat, knowing this isn’t the life I want.

I want a man to be there when I wake up in the morning, to hold me, hug me, kiss me. I want him to roll over and make me
his
, ensuring I think about him all day. I want it to be
us
first, before everyone steals his attention from me.

Anger at myself is making me queasy. How could I let this happen?
Stupid, Allie, stupid!
Hypersensitive to the loud chatter and people in the lobby, I exit the elevator. The door to the outside seems so far away, while I wrap my arms around myself, hurrying to get there. The bellboy holds the door open for me and then I’m finally outside, gulping the air.

“Allie, are you okay?”

I glance sideways, finding Levi standing by the Bentley. Unable to fill my lungs completely, I nod.

His mouth downturns. “Micah asked me to make sure you got to Holt this morning.” He opens the passenger door. “Please let me drive you home to—” His gaze rakes over me, and I can only imagine my hair is messy and my makeup is running. “Let me take you home first before I deliver you to Holt.”

Coldness is not only touching my skin now; it’s flushing through my entire shaking body and my stomach is churning. “I think I’ll grab a cab. Thank you anyway, Levi.”
I want absolutely nothing to do with Micah right now
is what I leave unsaid between us.

Before Levi can stop me, I spin on my heels and jog in the opposite direction, stopping at the curb and hailing a cab.

When one squeals to a stop for me, I don’t look back when I get inside. Nor do I look out the window at Levi when the driver speeds off. Instead, I let the tears fall, not caring one bit that the taxi driver watchs me in the rearview mirror.

Allie refused the drive this morning and took a cab instead. A word of warning: she seemed upset.

I frown at Levi’s text, shutting my eyes at the warning, drawing myself away from my office and into the silence of my mind. There’s this heavy feeling in my chest that I don’t like. A feeling that I don’t understand. I leave women in the morning. It’s what I do. That’s me. I don’t do sweet relationships. I don’t do
love.
I give what I can, and what I gave to Allie last night is all that I can offer her. My lungs tighten, strangling the air I’m breathing, when someone clearing their throat draws my attention.

“Sorry I’m late,” fellow DC member Darius says, entering my office, a harsh scowl on his unshaven face. “My plane was delayed and I touched down only an hour ago.”

“It’s all right. Thank you for coming to see me on the weekend.” I push all emotion aside and move around my glass desk. Richardson still needs to be dealt with, and while my team wants nothing to do with the project, I need to start moving ahead. I greet Darius with a strong handshake and then tap the back of the leather wingback chair. “Please take a seat.” I return behind my desk, taking a quick look at the glass wall on the left side of my office.

In the meeting room adjacent to my office, Allie sits with her back to me, alongside Isabella, and more than a dozen employees, for what I assume is their weekly town hall meeting. Allie shifts in her seat while taking notes, hinting that she knows I’m watching her now. I notice her slumped shoulders with disapproval before I glance away, dropping down into my chair. “I called you here—”

“What’s this?” The surprise in Darius’s voice has me looking up at him; he’s staring into the meeting room. He finally swings his head toward me, eyes wide. “When did my sister start working for you?”

“Your sister?”

“Allison Parker. She’s the brunette there.” Darius points to
my Allie,
who’s now angled in her seat, showing off the side of her face while she’s addressing the group.

Ice cuts through my veins, lowering my voice. “Allie is your sister?”

“Well, to be more specific, she’s my half-sister,” Darius says with a small smile. “We share the same mother.”

I slowly lower to my seat. “She never told me that.” And she should have, then I wouldn’t be in the middle of the most epic fuckup ever.

Darius snorts a laugh, taking a seat in front of me. “I’m not surprised that Allison kept that bit of information to herself. She always preferred to stand on her own two feet. The last thing she wants is a handout from me.” He glances at her again through the glass, his eyes softening. “If she didn’t mention it to you, keep this between us. She doesn’t like me interfering in her career. If anything good happens to her here, I don’t want her to feel that I had any part in it.”

“Of course,” I reply, shell-shocked.

A minute ago, Allie had my head spinning.

Now my mind shatters.

I reach for the glass of water next to my keyboard and my heart is thundering in my chest. With two gulps of water, I hastily squash the emotion threatening to break through my poker face, and contemplate quickly how to deal with this.

On one hand, I should tell Darius what happened between Allie and me. We’re close friends and we’ve taken an oath of loyalty to each other as members of the Dominants’ Council all those years ago. But thinking of the DC also reminds me that we keep our personal lives out of our obligations, and that’s why I never knew Darius had a half-sister. He never once spoke of her.

On the other hand, I owe loyalty to the woman I slept with last night not to tell her half-brother personal details about her life.

So, then, who do I betray?

Darius interjects before I can decide, “How long has she been working for you?”

“Not long.” I place the glass by my keyboard, shutting down personal thoughts until I can figure them out later. “This is actually the reason I called you here today. I bought Richardson last week. I thought you might be interested in giving the company a deeper look before we move ahead to see what we can do to grow it.”

“Sounds like a challenge, and you know how I love those finicky projects.” Darius settles into his seat, narrowing his eyes into focus. “I’ll get my team on it. We’ll see if there’s an untapped piece of the market that Richardson could fit into to make it stand out. Perhaps we can find a way to bring something fresh to them.” He waits for my nod of agreement and then asks, “When do you want us to start?”

“Right away, if possible.”

“I’ll send a team over there on Monday.”

“Excellent,” I reply, forcing myself to keep looking at him, and not allow my attention to drift to the other room to where it wants to go. “I have some ideas myself, but I’ll let you do your thing before I add my thoughts.”

“I’ll tell the team.” Darius rises from his seat, as do I. “Anything else?”

“No.” I follow him, moving around my desk. “I want the bigger picture before making any final decisions on the direction of the company.”

Darius nods. “Makes sense.”

We don’t need to say much more on the matter. We’ve grown several businesses together, and I know new ideas will be put forth, and we’ll have a solid budget by the time Bennett Inc. leaves Richardson. And right now that’s what I need.

A solid plan feels good, since everything else feels a little shaky.

I meet Darius at the doorway, and he offers his hand. “I know Allison is in good hands here, but keep an eye on her for me, all right?”

My face heats and tingles, my throat grows thick, as I return his handshake. “Of course.”

“I’ll be in touch.” Darius turns, giving Allie one last long look.

Even from where I stand, I see the deep-rooted love he has for Allie. I’ve never seen Darius look like this before, not in any of the years I’ve known him. I follow his gaze, finding that Allie’s shoulders remain slumped. That’s when I know there’s something worse than sleeping with Darius’s half-sister. I suspect hurting her is unforgiveable in Darius’s eyes.

And I have done both.

An hour later, I enter Allie’s office, finding her assistant scowling at me from behind her desk. I give Liv my grin that usually charms women right out of their panties. She folds her arms over her chest, her gaze flicking upward, clearly not won over. I can only take that to mean that Allie has told Liv about me and our night together.

Seeing that I’m getting nowhere with Liv, I focus on Allie, sitting behind her desk. Even though she’s not looking at me, I can see that Liv’s scowl is nothing compared to what I find on Allie’s face. Her nostrils are flaring and her lips are flat, and her hands are trembling against the papers on her desk.

This is the blessing that I need.

I can see she’s already decided she wants nothing to do with me. For her this is over, meaning I can carefully cut ties with her and clean the matter up nice and neatly. Content to let this all unfold, I turn to Liv, ignoring the daggers her gaze is throwing at me. Professionally, I would fire an employee for this type of insubordination. Personally, I realize Liv and Allie are close friends, and I respect Liv’s protectiveness of Allie. “Would you mind giving us a minute?” I ask Liv.

Her eyes turn cold, hard, and flinty while she stares me down, then she glances sideways at Allie.

Allie doesn’t look up from reading the papers on her desk. “It’s fine. Please shut the door behind you.”

Liv rises from her desk, silently flipping me off with her high chin as she leaves the office.

The second the door shuts, Allie asks, voice tight, “What can I do for you?”

I nearly breathe a sigh of relief at the detachment deepening her tone. I can deal with this particular coldness. I see it all the time on the faces of businessmen, and I’m well aware how to use it to my advantage to get what I want.

Shoving my hands into my pockets, I move toward her desk, deciding it best not to take a seat, and remain standing. “Leaving this morning was a mistake,” I tell her, which is an absolute first for me. I never apologize for leaving a woman in the morning. Nor do I make excuses for my behavior. In fact, if Allie weren’t Darius’s half-sister, this conversation would go very differently. I would use my best negotiation tactics to ensure that Allie was okay with my leaving and accepted the way I like to do things.

But Allie is no ordinary woman, she
is
Darius’s half-sister.

I’m careful that when we part she walks away from me on good terms. I will have to tell Darius about being with Allie, but first I
need
her to believe she’s simply leaving me because we’re not right for each other.

No hard feelings, that’s what I need here.

The air is thick—tense—and she’s still not looking at me when I continue. “I see that I upset you and that wasn’t my intention.”

She snorts, shaking her head softly. “Oh, I know it wasn’t.”

My back stiffens, but it’s not because I’m hearing a snarky tone in her voice; it’s because it sounds forced. I narrow my focus on her intently, becoming aware of only
her.
My throat constricts, muscles strain at the dark circles under her eyes and how she’s suddenly stroking her eyebrow.

“I regret having hurt you,” I offer.

“I’m not hurt.”

She’s still not looking at me, and my fists are now clenching in my pockets. I want to move to her and grasp her chin, commanding her to show me those soulful eyes that tell me so much. But she’s hiding them from me.

“Everything is A-OK,” she finishes.

I’m trying to keep to the plan of allowing her to walk away from me on her terms, but my head is spinning at the way she’s acting and her flat, monotone voice. I can’t remember all the reasons I need to stay away from her. All I want to do is bring her close and make her feel safe enough not to hide from me. “Allie, look at me.”

“Listen, there’s nothing more to say here.” Her shoulders are curving as she rises from her seat. “I know this is normal for you. You know, letting the maid clean up after you and such. And I’m sure the girls you’re used to dating don’t mind that, but I happen to.” She pushes her chair under her desk, still avoiding me. “Don’t worry. I get it. That’s the type of guy you are, so that’s what you do.”

She’s right. I am
that
guy.

Only this time, with her, it feels wrong to be that guy.

“Allie.” I’m not even sure what I want to say next.

She goes to walk by me, staring straight ahead at the closed door. The ground is dropping out from under me. I’m shaking and not even thinking, only acting, as I reach for her, stopping her from leaving. “Dammit, Allie. Look at me.”

Then her eyes meet mine, and I’m being hit in the center of my chest by a freight train. My breath is gone, my stomach is sinking, and I cannot let go of her.

I don’t want to.

In the same way her smile once blasted warmth across me, her sadness slams me with equally intense ice. Her eyes, those gorgeous eyes, are wet and dull. I caused that. Her chin is trembling. I did that. She’s
hurting.
All because of
me.
“Christ,” I bite off. “What can I say to make you feel better?”

“You don’t need to say anything.” She yanks herself away from me, her chest hitching. “This isn’t about you. It’s about me. You have nothing to feel bad about. I was expecting you to be different, and that’s wrong of me. Honestly, this is all fine. But I can’t do this with you.” She moves to the door, whisking it open. “We gave it a shot, but clearly we’re two very different people.”

The plan was to let her leave me. That plan makes sense for all involved. It is the smartest choice. It’s my way out. I plant my feet wide on the floor, as the room spins slightly, and before I can help it, I call, “Do you not remember what happened between us last night?”

“No.” She glances over her shoulder, her desolate eyes meeting mine. A painful tightness grabs hold of my throat when she adds, “I only remember what happened this morning.”