Living with Temptation (3 page)

Dean turned away and strode out of the bank, not willing to
look back. Outside, the cool breeze chilled his body and cleared his mind. He
breathed in the smell of exhaust, surveying the stream of traffic, listening to
the sound of the lively city. It was a stark contrast to Spring Lake, with its
Victorian styled houses and quiet streets.

Chelsea was certainly not what he expected, but he had no
intention of turning her away. He could handle living with her. Once the media
learned that she was living with him, then his life would finally be at peace.

As Dean turned his back on her, Chelsea allowed her façade
to fall. She watched him leave, walking with that confident, assured stride. Her
gaze lowered to his firm behind.

Immediately, she flinched. Feeling his eyes on her had been
distracting, and for one second she wanted Dean to take her. He was so powerful
and intimidating. His presence reminded her that she had been neglecting herself
sexually since Ryan.

She swallowed and realized that her hands were still
shaking. His touch had brought her wayward desires to life. How could she possibly
live with a man like this? Chelsea took a deep breath, calming her racing heart.
Once she moved in with Dean, inquiring about the houses would be her first
move. Then she would move out.

It was nice of Dean to offer her his house, but Chelsea
still didn’t believe he was doing it out of kindness. After all, it would be irrational
to believe that. Dean had another motive, something to hide, and whatever he
really wanted out of this situation, she wouldn’t give it to him.

Remembering that Andrea would be taking a break at some
point, Chelsea walked up to the desk, noticing that she was tapping away at the
computer. Before she could speak, Andrea turned towards her and shot her an
excited grin.

“I told you he was sexy!”

“He’s a lot more than that,” Chelsea remarked. Andrea’s
amused smile made her hasten to add, “I mean he’s kind of…impersonal. But I
won’t be staying long. And nothing’s going to happen.”

“If you say so,” she said playfully. Andrea straightened and
called out to her co-worker Paula that she was taking her break. Chelsea
stepped back and waited for her to maneuver around to her. Remembering that she
was still wearing the revealing blouse, she quickly pulled on the sweater.

Dean’s gaze dropped to her chest more than once during their
conversation, and it made her blush fiercely. How embarrassing to think she
looked easy for him. Chelsea hated how the look in his eyes betrayed the
arousal he obviously felt for her, and knowing that she felt the same. But it
was only four days of living together, and then it would all be over.
Four
days is long enough.

Andrea sauntered up to her, giving her a weary smile.

“At least he turned up,” she said. “I guess he was serious
about it after all.”

Chelsea nodded and fell into step with her as they walked
out of the bank. The cool air hit her and she shivered, noticing that Andrea’s
skin was pink from the cold.

“I don’t really know why he’s doing it,” Chelsea admitted.
“He said it wasn’t a publicity stunt.”

“Maybe he’s being nice because he wants to help you,” Andrea
suggested. “Or maybe he’s looking for a wife.”

“Still a lot of maybes,” Chelsea pointed out. “He said it
was for company, but he’s a millionaire. He could invite anyone over and they’d
agree to it.” She paused. “How’d you end up talking about me?”

“It was a casual comment,” Andrea explained. “He seemed interested
in you, and I figured, what’s the harm in meeting him? I guess he’s single.
Last I heard, he was.”

They stopped at the traffic light, waiting for it to turn
green.

“I almost said no,” Chelsea added. “I was so close. I had
good reasons not to accept. What if I’ve made the wrong decision?”

“Girl, how could living with him be a
bad
decision?”
Andrea pointed out. “You’ll be living the dream, Chel. Spring Lake is
beautiful. The beach is two miles long! I envy you.”

It did sound nice. Maybe she was looking at it the wrong way
– if she treated it as a vacation, it wouldn’t feel awkward.

“Just hope I find a house before the end of my vacation,”
Chelsea said. “I can only take a week off.”

Maybe it was time to swallow her pride and go for an
apartment lifestyle. All her life, she’d lived in a house with a yard and
trees. An apartment seemed too confining and restrictive.

“If it comes down to it, you can get a transfer. There’s a
Walmart not far out of Spring Lake. I used to go out that way on vacation with my
ex.”

Chelsea hoped it wouldn’t come to that. They crossed the
road and stepped inside Starbucks, the strong aroma of coffee instantly
improving her mood. “You’re right. It’s just a huge change, that’s all.”

Andrea patted her arm comfortingly. “It’ll work out. Dean
may be a millionaire, but he’s not rude with a big ego. Trust me, I’ve known
him for a while.”

She moved up to the counter and ordered two white chocolate
mochas with whipped cream – their usual. As Chelsea reached for her credit
card, she noticed Andrea glance back at her.

“I’ll cover the cost, don’t worry.”

“Thanks!” Chelsea smiled, and stepped back to allow other
customers to move in behind her. She walked over to a table closest to the
window and sat down. Meeting Dean was far from her mind now. Maybe the sexual
attraction was a one-time feeling. Next time they meet, it won’t be there.
Why
am I thinking about him anyway?

Andrea strolled over with the two mochas in her grasp,
sliding Chelsea’s over to her. She took hold of the paper cup and breathed in
the smell.

“Ah, I love the smell of coffee in the morning.”

“It’s like a drug, huh?” Andrea said with a laugh. She shot
a glance at her watch. “I’ve only got ten minutes.”

Chelsea’s eyes widened. “What’s the time? I paid for an
hour.”

“Ten to twelve.”

“Shit, I better get back to my car!” Chelsea explained,
standing up and looking at her regretfully. “Sorry.”

Andrea nodded understandably. “We didn’t have much time
anyway. Text me later!”

Chelsea turned and left almost as quickly as Dean had walked
away from her. She stepped out onto the sidewalk, turning back to give her
friend a wave. As she lost herself amongst the flow of people, she sipped at
her mocha, marveling at the sensation of the creamy liquid.

But it wasn’t enough to distract her from him. She’d been so
aroused by Dean’s presence, even when he sat opposite her. How would it feel
living in the same house as him?
We’ll hardly see each other,
she
reminded herself. But that seemed like a small comfort.

She got to her car with only minutes to spare. As she pulled
the keys from her pocket she felt someone walk into her, almost pushing her
over. Chelsea cursed, and warily glanced up. It almost felt like hands had
reached down, intent on taking a wallet.

Shaken, she glanced around but whoever it was had merged
into the crowd.

She noticed the faces of the few people who saw what had
taken place, and noticed the helpless, guilty looks.
Damn it, it’s a good
thing I left my wallet in the car or it would be gone right now.

Chelsea got into her car, slamming the door. Her hands were
shaking. She quickly checked her pockets, which still held her credit card and
Dean’s contact details. Then she finished off her mocha, placing the empty cup
on the seat next to her.
No point thinking about it now.

Chelsea shrugged the incident aside and started the engine,
merging out into the traffic. It looked like a long drive home, especially during
peak traffic time. She felt her knees twinge uncomfortably, but ignored it. She
didn’t want to think about that pain, as if any thoughts would make her knees
flare up again. It happened seven months ago but she had been in fear of it
returning ever since.

Chelsea unlocked the front door and as it swung open, she
almost expected Mittens to come running to greet her, her stripy tail pointing
into the air. She closed the door behind her, the sound echoing throughout the
house.

She felt trapped. Sometimes the walls seemed like they were
pushing in against her. She’d almost forgotten how small the house was, any
smaller and it would be close to an apartment. When she thought of Dean’s place,
a smile crossed her face. It didn’t seem like a bad decision after all.

She slid her hands into her pocket and withdrew the card he
gave her. There were no other details apart from his name, address, and number,
printed in plain sans serif font.

Chelsea reached for her cell phone on her desk and added his
number. A message suddenly flashed up on the screen and she hesitated. It was
from Ryan. A sharp pain shot through her. She couldn’t talk to him, not now.
Things were getting better, she was moving forward with her life.

“He said to contact him when I’m ready,” she mused. “Like
hell I am.”

Chelsea turned the phone off without viewing the message. If
it was important, he’d email or call. Wearily, she sat at her computer and
turned it on, looking at the address Dean gave her. She typed it into Google
and clicked on the photo.

Wow.
Was that even the right word to describe it? She
stared in shock at the simple, white Victorian style house with a patio and
spacious lawn. The top story had three wide windows with green shutters, and
below was a single window and a plain white door that opened out onto the large
patio encased by white fencing. A small set of steps surrounded by lush
greenery led down to a medium sized pool at the side of the house.

She clicked through more pictures and came across a sleep
out, only a few feet away from the house beside the garage. Chelsea clicked on
the aerial view, noticing how the house was only a few blocks from the Atlantic
Ocean with views out towards the water.

Chelsea leaned back against the chair and smiled. “Can’t
believe I’m going to be living there,” she murmured.

The only problem was, she wouldn’t be alone.

The next day, Chelsea knew she had to talk to Dean. Whether
it was from excitement or being impatient, she didn’t care. It felt surreal knowing
that tomorrow she would be living with a millionaire. She messaged Andrea about
the moving day, and without looking at his message, told Ryan she would be moving
out and the place would be ready for him by the afternoon.

Now she just needed to contact Dean. Chelsea paused, hesitant
to hear his deep, rich voice again. Fantasizing about him was not what she intended
to do, it was a professional arrangement, just as he stated. He didn’t want her
for any other reason.

To her regret, it hurt. Of course she wasn’t as desirable as
the celebrities he spent time with, but during their brief meeting she had been
confused by the way Dean looked at her with his sensual green eyes, his
handsome face creasing into a deep frown.
He doesn’t want me,
she
confirmed.
I have to stop thinking about him that way.

Chelsea reached for the phone and dialed the number, feeling
her hand shake slightly. She gritted her teeth, angry at herself for getting
nervous. Dean answered almost immediately.

“Nice to hear from you, Chelsea.”

She swallowed, stunned by the sound of his voice. It brought
her back to the moment they met at the bank, and the intense attraction she
knew she felt, and still had. She hastily pushed it aside.
He’s a powerful
millionaire, how could I not be attracted to him?

“Have you chosen a moving date?” he asked.

“Will tomorrow suit you? I don’t have much to move, just a
few clothes and personal items. The moving van will arrive by midday.”

“Perfect. I’ll be happy to help with whatever you need.”

There was a brief silence as Chelsea wondered what else to
say to him. Would it be wise to ask Dean if he was comfortable having her there?
It won’t be smart to mention our attraction.

“I have some help already,” she said. “I’ll see you
tomorrow, and thanks again.”

“Bye, Chelsea.”

The way he spoke her name sent a shudder of desire through
her. Chelsea hung up before he could say anything more, taking a deep breath.
Get
a hold of yourself!
Then she felt a smile curve her lips. Being intensely
attracted to Dean was definitely helping her move on, there was no harm in
that.

Chelsea pursed her lips and stood up, turning away from the
computer. She took one look around her partly furnished house, knowing that
tomorrow everything would change. This life was over, and she had a new one
before her.

But there was someone she needed to talk to. Raising the
phone in her hand, Chelsea dialed the number and waited.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Mom. I’ve found a place, I’ll be moving out tomorrow.”

She heard deep laughter in the background. Chelsea frowned
in disapproval. That had to be Ben, the man having an affair with her. She never
met him, and didn’t intend to. Talking to her mom gave her some semblance of
having a normal family, and she needed her mom’s support ever since her father
died.

“Oh, I see,” she responded. “Will you be moving to New
York?”

Chelsea held back a bitter retort. Her mom insisted that New
York was the place to live, and she got the impression her mother would never
accept her until she lived there.

“No. Spring Lake.”

There was a long pause. “How can you afford to live there?”

“Through a mutual friend.”

“Indeed,” her mom murmured, disinterest showing in her tone.
“I suppose I should leave you to start packing.”

Chelsea hesitated, wondering if she should elaborate. If she
mentioned a millionaire, her mom would finally show an interest in her life.
Then there was a click and the phone beeped. Chelsea lowered the phone,
realizing she had hung up on her. The silence hung in the air, lingering, a painful
reminder that her mom would never be there for her.

The moment Dean closed the front door, he wondered how much
his life will change with Chelsea living with him. He never gave it much
thought, but it would be nice to have a houseguest.
A woman I have to
restrain myself from kissing.

Dean was used to having any woman he desired thanks to his
looks and wealth. But in retrospect, the women who offered themselves to him
knew who he was when they went after him. He didn’t need to try. Chelsea however,
he had no idea how to seduce her.

“Not that I will,” he told himself aloud.

His assistant Rachel had been none too pleased by his idea.
As Dean entered the living room, he glanced towards the clock above the
fireplace. She would be arriving at any minute.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang, echoing throughout the
house.

A smile crossed Dean’s lips as he walked to the front door
and pulled it open. Rachel stood there, her curly blonde hair framing her California
tanned face. He had never liked the woman much, but she was there to advise him
on how to handle his money and set himself for a future that wouldn’t tarnish
the Westley name.

When his parents passed away a decade ago, they passed on
their wealth to him. Rachel stepped up to help, as she had been close friends
with his mom. With her guidance he hadn’t made many mistakes - until Desiree.

“So have you chosen your fake girlfriend?” she asked
brightly. Dean flinched, knowing that Rachel initially hadn’t liked his idea.
He gestured for her to come inside and then wandered towards the fireplace,
rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“Her name’s Chelsea,” he said. Behind him, Rachel closed the
door. “She doesn’t seem too interested in me.”

“Good,” she said firmly. “She’ll be nothing more than a
houseguest. Do I have to remind you you’re doing this for your reputation? The
rest of your family aren’t happy with the seducing playboy image you’ve
garnered since Desiree.”

Dean raised a hand, hoping she would stop. He knew all of
the mistakes he’d made without being reminded by her of all people. They were
old regrets he’d buried deeply, and they would stay that way.

“I won’t be seducing Chelsea,” he affirmed, turning to face
her. The woman was sitting on a white leather couch, her arms folded expectantly.

“No, you’ll just be using her to show you’re in a
relationship,” Rachel said wryly. “Very charming, by the way. Why don’t you
find a woman who’ll be with you?”

“They’re only after my money,” Dean replied, repeating the
words he’d told himself. “I’d rather have a fake, brief relationship than deal
with women and their damn issues.”

“Nice way to use someone.”

He shrugged. “She’s using me as much as I’m using her. I
don’t care what you think of me, or Chelsea for that matter.”

Rachel was silent for a moment, but Dean recognized the
glint in her eyes. Now he knew what was coming and before he could stop her,
she asked, “Is this about your father?”

Dean clenched his jaw. She’d crossed a line, and the
plaintive look on her face showed that she wasn’t bothered by it.
How
typical,
he thought.
Women love to throw the past back at you.

“Did I say it was?” he said evenly. She held his gaze. “I
take it you’ve told me what you need to. This exhilarating conversation is
over.”

Rachel’s lips pressed into a terse line. “Always a pleasure
talking to you, Dean.”

He turned away from her, hoping she would leave. The brittle
tension was heavy in the air, and he couldn’t relax until she was out of his
house. Rachel hated him for being wealthy at the cost of losing her best friend
– his mother, and even more so when the media attention was directed at him.

 Although Dean had tried seducing her back when he was
struggling through his grief, he only kept in contact with her for financial
direction. She knew how to invest the money earned under the Westley name, and
he knew of no one better. Rachel was attractive with a spark of intelligence,
but he had no feelings towards her. Nothing but a deep seated dislike which she
equally shared for him.

Dean waited for the door to close, hoping it would hit her ass
on the way out, before he sat down. As he sank against the comfort of the white
leather couch, he sighed in frustration. He wanted to use Chelsea to improve
his image, but now he was having second thoughts. He thought he had everything
– the perfect lifestyle that came with wealth and recognition, yet with all the
women he took to bed, none of them satisfied the deep longing he had to settle
down.

Age and maturity was finally catching up, he thought with amusement.

Maybe settling down and starting a family was part of the
Westley name. His estranged brother had chosen that path. But Dean didn’t know
how that turned out for him. And that was the other reason for keeping Rachel
around – without her, he had no way of knowing how his brother’s life was
going.

His thoughts went back to Chelsea.

Instead of having a façade of being in a relationship with
her, was it possible to seduce her into one? Dean smiled at the thought. A
challenge was always intriguing, and with all the money to live worry free, he
had very few of those.
Seducing Chelsea is going to be very interesting
indeed.

Chelsea threw the last of her belongings into the van,
sighing deeply as she turned to look back at her old home, wedged closely between
two equally small houses. This morning she checked her phone and the message Ryan
had sent her, asking when he could move back in.

And for the first time she didn’t care what he said. She was
leaving him out of her life. As Chelsea climbed into the van beside her driver,
Matt, she saw Ryan’s dark gray sedan pull up outside. She had left him the key
underneath the porch mat and waited until she recognized his car before
leaving.

“That’s him?” Matt asked.

“It is,” she said. “We can go now.”

The slightly chubby dark haired man nodded and backed the
van out of the driveway. Chelsea glanced towards the house in time to see Ryan
look towards the van, as if he was searching for her. Then he was gone, and
they were driving out of Newark towards Spring Lake.

When Matt slowed to a stop to pay the highway toll, he
turned to observe her.

“You’re heading to Dean Westley’s place?”

She nodded.

“Are you two…dating?”

Chelsea stared in surprise. Her expression seemed to have
unnerved him as he quickly cleared his throat and added, “Not that it’s any of
my business. But any woman who ends up with Dean will end up in the media, and
that’s not a nice place to be.”

“I figured that,” she said quietly. “Don’t worry, he’s just
offered me a place to stay. He’s a mutual friend, and I’ll be looking for
somewhere else within a few days.”

“Okay, good luck. Wouldn’t want someone as nice as you to
get hurt.”

Chelsea looked at him appreciatively. “I’ll be okay.”

The rest of the time they sat in silence. As her cousin
Leanne’s partner, Matt hadn’t spoken to her much but was the first to offer to
help her move out after he heard about Ryan’s affair.

As they entered Spring Lake, she stared appreciatively at
the Victorian style homes lining the streets. The sky was a deep gray, a
backdrop of darkness against the soft colors of the houses and ornate stores.
They were all local shops, she noticed. No McDonald’s or Starbucks in sight.

Matt drove to the address and as he pulled up outside,
Chelsea stared in wonder. It was explicitly grander than the photo had implied.
The dark green shutters on the top story were closed, and she noticed the front
door was open, dim light spilling across the patio into the house.

Dean’s house was lined with a white picket fence, surrounded
by a substantial sized yard. The pool had been covered, and Chelsea’s attention
went to the garage down the driveway on the far left.

Then
he
stepped out onto the patio, folding his arms
as he casually looked towards the van. Chelsea stared, her breath catching in
her throat from the sight of him. She admired the way his body looked in a
short sleeved gray shirt and loose fitting black pants. As Dean stood there in
that imposing stance, every part of him exuded sexual appeal.

Chelsea didn’t realize her mouth was open until she noticed
Matt was looking at her.

“Thanks for doing this,” she said quickly. He smirked and
nodded, no doubt noticing the way she had been watching Dean.

“Just happy to help.” He shot a look towards the house. “Not
the kind of place you’d expect a millionaire to live in.”

His words were partly true. It looked like an expensive
house – for a family.

“He has another place in New York,” she remembered. “Maybe
this is his vacation house.”

Matt nodded, nodding his head towards the back of the van.
“Do you need help carrying any of your stuff?”

“It’s only a few bags, I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

Chelsea climbed out of the van, smiling at Matt before she
moved around to the back, feeling Dean’s eyes on her. Matt turned the engine
off, leaving only silence apart from the sound of birds chirping in the trees,
and a few passing cars. The silence was almost eerie. One thing she appreciated
already.

 She pulled open the doors and began reaching for the plastic
bags she’d placed her clothes into. There wasn’t much, considering that she’d
left the furniture for Ryan. In a millionaire’s house, she wouldn’t need it.

Feeling the chill of the winter air on her skin, Chelsea was
grateful to be wearing her brown woolen coat which draped down to her thighs,
and a black and white spotted scarf around her neck. As she took hold of a bag,
a shadow fell over her from behind and she jumped, turning around to see him
standing there. Dean’s body looked firm and strong as he reached forward and
grabbed it from her.

“I’ll help you with that,” he said with a smile that made
her pulse race. Chelsea glared at him but it didn’t last. He turned away and
started to walk towards the house, glancing back at her. One thing she was
bothered by already: he was arrogant.