The Wilde Side (18 page)

He glanced away and inhaled a deep breath, and when he looked at her again that harsh edge lining his features had softened. "Then explain that night, Ashley," he said, his voice no longer sharp and scornful, but innately curious. "Why the pretense? Why the anonymity and secrets? For once, make me understand what the hell is going on so I don't keep thinking the worst. Because without an explanation, that's about all I can do."

The truth
. After all she'd put him through and the lengths he'd gone to to find her, she owed him that much. "The night of my thirtieth birthday, I was looking to end a three-year sexual drought," she told him, being as honest about everything as she could. "Because of what had happened in a past relationship, I'd been conservative, practical, and responsible – the quintessential good girl you pegged me for that night."

He watched her with unreadable eyes, listening, absorbing her words, saying nothing.

She rubbed her arms with her hands and continued. "So, I decided that fun, anonymous sex with a stranger would be the way to go. No muss, no fuss – nothing beyond that one night of hot, unforgettable sex. No promises, no strings, and no emotional entanglements."

And boy had she ever failed on that last account. "I admit that I went to Nick's because it was an out-of-the-way bar, and I was sure that no one I knew would be there. All I wanted was a bit of an adventure. All I was looking for was a great birthday memory to look back on." She met his dark, intense gaze, so grateful to finally see the promise of warmth glowing in the depth of those compelling eyes of his. "Instead, I found you."

She smiled tremulously, recalling that night with clarity. "You were this sexy guy who exceeded my wildest expectations and hottest fantasies. You brought out this seductive, uninhibited side to me that I didn't know existed until you. I never expected that, and it was so wonderful and exciting."

"Yeah, it was," he said, surprising her with his own admission – that he'd been just as affected.

She felt a distinct tug on her heart, but refused to examine it too closely. Yet she did finally give in to the urge to reach out and touch his arm, needing that physical contact in a soul-deep way. His skin was hot, the muscles beneath taut and corded.

"Despite what you might think, I never meant for things to go so far between us, to get so involved with you, or for our affair to get so complicated, which was what I was trying to avoid by having a one-night stand." She licked her dry lips. "But I couldn't stay away. The attraction was too strong, and I wanted you too much."

Their affair had evolved into so much more than sexual desire. Scott had come to represent the independence and freedom she craved. With him, she could be herself – whether he realized that or not. And while she'd kept her identity under wraps, she'd revealed much of her inner self to him in their short time together, huge chunks of her soul that had nothing to do with the St. Claire name.

"There's more," he said, startling her with his abrupt comment when he'd been quiet for so long.

She frowned, unsure what he meant. "Excuse me?"

His gaze narrowed in an assessing way. "There's something critical that's kept you from letting us develop our relationship and bring it out in the open. A specific reason why you've kept your identity a secret. Is it because of what I do for a living?"

"No." She shook her head vehemently. God, that he'd even think such a thing made her stomach feel sick. "I'm not that shallow, Scott."

"Then what is it?"

She closed her eyes. The man was too perceptive, and he was asking her to put everything out there between them: a past she was trying to forget, but would always be such a huge part of her life and affected the woman she'd become over the past few years – a woman who was cautious when it came to men and relationships, and a daughter who didn't want to add to the disappointment she'd dealt her parents.

She looked back at Scott and attempted to rationalize her actions the best way she could – with the truth.

"Ever since I started dating as an adult, as soon as men discover I'm a
St. Claire
their interest in me inevitably shifts to my family's fortune and how being with a St. Claire might improve their own social standing. All they see is this great catch that has little to do with who I am, but
what
I am."

Now came the hard part, the ugly past. "Then I met Greg Derryn at an art show I attended with a few girlfriends. He was charming and witty. And even after he found out who I was, it never became an issue, and he didn't show any signs of being one of those men who became focused on my wealth or social status. I honestly thought his interest in me was genuine."

She drew a slow, deep breath and forced herself to dredge up the rest of the story, which unearthed too many unpleasant, painful emotions. "We dated for about six months, and for the first time I felt as though I'd met a man who could possibly be the one. Greg led me to believe that he was different, that he wanted me for the person I was inside and that my family name and connections meant nothing to him. So, I let go emotionally and allowed myself to really fall for him."

When she grew silent in an attempt to collect the rest of her thoughts, Scott prompted quietly, "What happened?"

She shrugged. "Greg turned out to be like every other guy I'd dated and saw me as a profitable commodity. Except he used me in a way I never saw coming." She swallowed the knot tightening in her throat. "He decided to use blackmail to get what he wanted."

"Money?" Scott guessed, his tone rough and low and thoroughly disgusted.

"Lots of money," she verified.

"What did he do?" he demanded to know.

Humiliation burned across her cheeks. She really hadn't expected to reveal the source of Greg's extortion, but she'd come this far with Scott, and she wasn't about to gloss over the facts now. "He drugged me one night and took a bunch of pictures of me that were very sexual in nature. We're talking the X-rated kind of stuff that belonged in a men's magazine."

A repulsive shudder wracked her body before she could stop it from happening. "And then he sent a few of the less vulgar ones to my father with a note that said unless he wanted to see those photos of his daughter plastered all over the Internet, he'd pay up. And so my father did, in the tune of a six figure amount that bought him, and me, the assurance that those pictures would never surface. And so far, they haven't."

Scott swore succinctly, obviously furious on her behalf. "Why didn't your father just go to the police?"

"Because he didn't want to risk a scandal or take the chance that those pictures of me would end up on the Internet somehow because he involved the authorities." She buried her face in her hands, her shame just as fresh as it had been all those years ago. "God, the whole thing was a friggin mess, and I just wanted to die of embarrassment. And I hated what I put my parents through and that I'd disappointed them with my lack of judgment."

"There's no way you could have known what the guy was going to do," he pointed out.

She laughed, the sound choked by the tears threatening to surface. She felt so raw, so exposed, so out of her element with this man listening to her degrading story. "That's just it, Scott. Now I live with that constant fear when it comes to dating men or allowing myself to get serious with anyone. I have such a difficult time trusting men's motives where I'm concerned."

"I'm not interested in your wealth," he bit out, his voice back to being harsh, and his eyes flashing with gall.

"I know that. I
believe
that," she said, her tone strong and emphatic. Because she'd kept her identity a secret, their relationship had never been based on her being a St. Claire or her family's immense fortune. "But the circumstances of our relationship have the potential of being just as scandalous. I mean, look at what I did! I went into a bar and picked up a guy and slept with him. I stupidly put myself in another situation that has the potential to be just as scandalous as the one with Greg."

Then there was the issue of James's threat that added to her anxiety. Good God, could her life get any more twisted and complicated?

"So, that's it then?" Scott asked in a flat tone. "This is as far as we go?"

"Yes." The one word felt like a stab directly to her heart, as well as the end to something special and rare. "Besides, I told you that I was considering moving to San Francisco, and I've made the decision to go. I'll be gone in about a month."

He was quiet for a moment as he contemplated that news. Then he spoke. "Well, in the meantime, you'd better get used to having me around the hotel."

Taken aback by his remark, she frowned. "What do you mean by that?" Did he plan on stalking her, for goodness sake?

He tipped his head, causing a stray lock of dark hair to fall over his brow "Are you aware of the restoration work being done here at the hotel?"

She was surprised he knew about the refurbishing her father and Evan had approved to modernize and rejuvenate certain areas of the hotel. "Yes, though I don't know specifics." She'd only been informed that tile and flooring work would be taking place for a few weeks, though none of it would affect the boutique in any way.

"My company, Nolan and Sons, was awarded the job," he said, a shade of derision in his voice and eyes. "We start next week."

She gasped and took a step away from him in shock.

He smiled grimly. "Isn't it ironic that after all your attempts to keep our lives separate, I was bidding on this job all along?"

Ironic, indeed!

"And since I'm a hands-on kind of guy, as you already know," he went on in a silky murmur that made her belly do a series of tiny flip-flops, "I'll be here on a daily basis to supervise the job."

Her head spun at that revelation and all the implications of having him so near on a daily basis. Just when she didn't think it possible, it appeared that her life, indeed, was about to become even more twisted and complicated.

Chapter 11

S
cott narrowed his gaze at the cards in his hand through the haze of cigar smoke hanging in the air around him, fairly certain that he was going to be shit-out-of-luck once again. That seemed to be the way the evening was going, and it didn't help matters that his mind and thoughts were elsewhere, instead of being focused where they should be – on the poker game in progress.

"Yo, Scottie, are you going to ante up, or what?"

Scott glanced across the table at his cousin, Adrian, the cheerful groom-to-be, who was puffing on one of the Bolivar cigars Adrian's brother, Eric, had brought along for the occasion. As recent tradition dictated, male members of the Wilde family and Adrian's good friends were gathered in the private upstairs room of Nick's Sports Bar to salute The Wilde One's dwindling days of being a bachelor. In two weeks, Adrian Wilde would be a married man, willingly converted by Chayse Douglas, the one woman who'd managed to tame his reckless ways.

Scott's hand of cards sucked, and he was already down fifty bucks. He was a man who knew when to cut his losses before he got raked over the coals even more. So why in the hell was he having such a hard time applying that bit of philosophy to his relationship with Ashley? His head told him to admit defeat with that particular issue and move on to the next phase of his life trouble-free, yet he was having a difficult time doing just that.

With a sigh, he laid his cards facedown on the table and lifted his hands in a show of surrender. "This game is getting too rich for my blood, boys. I'm out."

The rest of the guys at the table, which included both of Scott's brothers, started in on the ribbing one had to endure when they decided it was time to bow out of a game of poker. Scott tolerated the good-natured razzing, and instead of joining in on a game of pool or darts, he headed over to the smorgasbord of food that had been brought in for the party. He grabbed a few slices of pizza and a cold bottle of beer, then joined Eric, who was sitting at one of the tables in the game room, eating from a plate piled high with appetizers.

Eric flashed him a wry grin after cleaning the meat off a buffalo wing. "Another one bites the dust, huh?"

Scott settled into a chair across from his cousin and twisted the cap off his beer. "You talking about the two of us with the poker game or Adrian with Chayse?"

Eric laughed, his blue eyes filled with amusement. "It has been a crazy year with all three of us brothers getting hitched, hasn't it?"

"To say the least." Scott fed his grumbling stomach a big bite of pepperoni and mushroom pizza, then washed it down with a long drink of beer. "The three of you are making me, Joel, and Alex look bad."

"How's that?" Eric's dark brows rose curiously.

Scott recalled the conversation he'd had with his stepmother during a recent Sunday afternoon barbeque at their house. "Amelia had lunch with your mother a few weeks ago, and between Aunt Angela talking about the upcoming wedding plans and being excited about her two new grandbabies that will be making an appearance soon, Amelia is now dropping hints that she wouldn't mind
expanding
our family, too."

"It'll happen all in good time, I'm sure," Eric said as he sucked the spicy sauce from his fingertips.

"Alex and I certainly aren't opposed to marriage," Scott told his cousin.

Unfortunately for Alex, there was the little problem of his brother trying to convince his girlfriend, Dana, that they belonged together – forever. As for himself, Scott was still attempting to process the confrontation he'd had with Ashley and all that he'd learned about her – especially the past that had scarred her emotionally and had instilled an enormous amount of fear that obviously still ruled the majority of her choices and actions.

He'd expected to leave her boutique having written her off for good, but instead he'd been stunned by the blackmail story she'd divulged to him. Unlike every other time when she'd skirted any discussion about herself, this time she'd opened up to him, extending a rare and tenuous amount of trust as she revealed layers of painful memories and insecurities that explained her resistance toward him.

He'd been prepared to shun any explanation she offered. He'd planned on being the one doing the rejecting this time around, to walk away with a cold, cynical heart and dismiss their affair and what they'd shared as another error in judgment.

She'd taken him by complete surprise, and instead he'd allowed the regret and yearning in her gaze to soften the walls he'd erected when he'd learned the truth about her and who she was. And even though he never thought it possible, even though he hated being deceived, a part of him understood why she'd held herself back, why she'd kept her identity a secret.

Now that his anger had faded and he'd taken a few days to mull over everything he'd learned, he had some decisions to make. What was he going to do about her – about them – if anything at all?

"I don't think Amelia should expect much from Joel and Mia," Scott joked as he finished off his second slice of pizza and wiped his hands on a napkin. "Joel loves all women, and I can't imagine him settling down with just one female for the rest of his life. As for Mia, well, we all know there's very few guys that could deal with such a brash, assertive woman like her on a long-term basis."

Both of their gazes simultaneously traveled to Cameron Sinclair, who was playing against Steve in a friendly but competitive game of darts.

Eric spoke first, echoing Scott's thoughts exactly. "You and I both know there's one man capable of handling Mia without breaking her spirit."

"Yeah, well, neither one is about to admit to anything other than lust where the other is concerned." Scott leaned back in his chair and dragged his fingers along the condensation gathering on his bottle of beer. "If those two are truly meant to be together, then fate is going to have to step in and make it happen."

"I've learned that fate works in mysterious ways, so don't discount the possibility." Eric saluted him with his own bottle of beer before taking a drink.

Scott rolled his eyes. "God, you are
so
whipped."

A huge, goofy grin spread across Eric's face. "And let me tell you, it's not a bad thing to be."

Eric's cell phone rang, and he unclipped the unit from the waistband of his jeans, checked the display to see who was calling, then answered with an anxious, "Hey, honey, everything okay?"

Obviously, it was Jill on the other end of the line, and considering the worry creasing Eric's brows, he was concerned about her state of pregnancy, since the baby was due within a few weeks. Tuning out the private conversation between Eric and his wife, Scott finished off his beer and casually glanced toward the pool table.

He was unprepared for the onslaught of memories and vivid images that filtered through his mind of the time he'd spent with Ashley up here in this room. He remembered her laughter and playfulness as she'd challenged him in a game of pool and how much fun they'd had together – here and later at his place. He recalled the way she'd kicked his ass during the first game, unapologetically so, and the delicious, erotic body shots that had ensued after each of their wins.

He shifted in his seat just as Steve came up to the table and plunked a fresh bottle of beer in front of him. Grateful for the distraction from his wayward thoughts, he grinned at his cousin as Steve took the vacant chair next to him.

Amused by Steve's insightful gesture, Scott tipped his head toward the brewski in question. "Do I look like I need another one?"

His cousin's gaze scrutinized him, seeing him through the eyes of a man who was used to reading people. "Something tells me you could use a few."

"It's been a rough week, as you well know," Scott admitted, a crooked grin canting his mouth.

Steve rested his arms on the table and nodded in understanding. He glanced briefly at his brother, who was still on the phone with Jill, then back to Scott. "How did it go with Ashley St. Claire?" Steve asked as he grabbed a handful of the Chex mix from the bowl on the table. "Or would you rather not talk about it?"

Since Steve was privy to the facts surrounding his relationship with Ashley, Scott had no problem discussing the aftermath with him. Actually, he appreciated having a listening ear when he'd been stewing on everything for the past few days.

He gave Steve a brief rundown on his confrontation with Ashley, going so far as to enlighten him about her past and the blackmail attempt against her. He even revealed his own unresolved feelings on the entire situation and with Ashley.

When he was done, Steve took a long pull on his beer while seemingly digesting everything for a few moments. When his cousin met his gaze again, Steve's eyes were warm and wise and as direct as the man himself. "Tell me something. Is she a woman worth fighting for?"

Scott wasn't prepared for his cousin's question, nor had he anticipated the immediate answer that popped into his head. Yes. There were so many qualities he loved about Ashley, so many reasons why he'd want her in his life. But fighting for Ashley wasn't that easy, especially if she didn't want to be won over.

Especially if she believed he didn't fit into her life.

He expressed his doubts and concerns to Steve. "Would I like the opportunity to see how things played out with Ashley now that there aren't any secrets between us? Absolutely. Do I think I'll meet with resistance on her end if I try and pursue her? Probably." His gut told him that her defenses were securely guarded by deeply rooted fears, and those barriers wouldn't crumble easily.

"Well, from what you've told me, at the office the other day and here, your relationship with Ashley was initially based on physical attraction and has gradually grown from there. Now that everything is out in the open between the two of you, maybe it needs to be based on romance and trust."

"Are you speaking from experience?" Scott's tone was humorous, but he didn't discount his cousin's advice.

"Maybe I am." Steve followed that up with a noncommittal shrug, though it was evident by the light in his eyes that he was thinking of his wife, Liz. "Women are complicated, emotional creatures, and sometimes they need to be handled delicately. It all depends on whether or not you feel she's worth your time and effort."

Again, he didn't have to think long on his answer. "She is."

A small, knowing smile tipped up one side of Steve's mouth. "Since she intends to move to San Francisco soon, then it sounds to me like you only have a handful of weeks to cultivate a real relationship with her and see where things go from there."

Before Scott could respond to that, a loud commotion rose from the poker table – a series of grunts, groans, curses, and Adrian's unmistakable whoop of victory as he claimed the huge pot of chips in the center of the table. Both Scott and Steve laughed, and with so much noise going on in the room Eric finished up his call to Jill with a promise that he'd be home shortly.

Once the hoopla died down and the other guys started in on the buffet of appetizers and refills on their drinks, Steve returned his attention back to Eric.

"So, how's Jill doing?" Steve asked casually, belying the deeper layer of interest in his expression that had more to do with the wager between them. "Any signs of labor yet?"

"Nothing consistent. Just those Braxton Hicks contractions the doctor told us about. Don't worry, the bet's still on," Eric assured him, obviously reading into the true reason behind his brother's inquiry. "Jill called because she's got a craving for cantaloupe and wants me to pick some up for her on my way home."

The exotic stripper they'd hired for Adrian's bachelor party arrived, garnering everyone's attention as she strolled into the all-male party dressed in black stilettoes and a long black trench coat that had every guy imagining what she might be wearing beneath. Excitement and anticipation charged the atmosphere as Adrian's friends ushered him toward the stripper and sat him down in a chair in the middle of the room so he was in the spotlight.

Then, with the throbbing beat of "Bad Boys" playing on the CD player she'd brought along, their entertainment for the evening began peeling away the coat, revealing a skimpy police uniform like none Scott had ever seen on a female officer before. A skin-tight navy blue top with a plunging neckline revealed plenty of cleavage, and impossibly short shorts molded to her pert bottom. The risqué outfit was accessorized by a police baton and handcuffs hanging from a belt loop, insinuating all sorts of kinky fun.

The single guys gathered close, wanting in on the action, while the men who were spoken for seemed to hang back to watch the show from a distance. Alex joined Scott at his table with Steve and Eric, while Joel made his way to the front of the group, making sure he had an unobstructed view of the show and the woman about to shed her tantalizing costume.

The catcalls and whistles began in earnest as the woman shimmied and danced and gradually removed each article of clothing for Adrian, giving him his last thrill as a single man. She used her props to tease him, and Adrian grinned and took her brazen behavior all in stride. He watched and enjoyed the striptease until she was down to a G-string and pasties, but he didn't seem inclined to touch any exposed flesh despite the woman's best efforts to get him to do so – and Adrian's lack of interest was a sure sign that The Wilde One had settled down for good.