My phone clicked, and I turned it to glance at the screen. Guilt clutched at me as I saw Gracie’s name, but I still wasn’t ready to talk to her. She was one step closer to Lukas than I wanted to be just then. Later, I thought. Later, when it doesn’t hurt so much.

  Dropping the phone back, I focused on Breanna. “So…what are you doing for Christmas?”

  * * *

  “You have a visitor, Miss Stella,” Eustace said from the doorway.

  I sat curled up in my favorite seat in the one room of the house I loved the most – the library. Putting down the book I was reading, I rose. “I do?”

  “Indeed.” Eustace slipped me a smile before turning to lead me from the room. “She’s in the small salon. I believe she said she was a friend of yours from Colorado, Miss Stella.”

  “What?” Confused, I drew even with him, ignoring the old butler’s very inbred sense of propriety. He took great pride in what he saw as his role in the house and that included presenting guests, etc.

  He must have sensed what I was feeling because he brushed his fingertips down my arm. “She appears upset. I’ll bring cocoa, if you wish to greet her alone.”

  “Yes, yes, please.” I smiled my thanks and rushed forward, wondering what might have brought Breanna out here when I’d just talked to her yesterday.

  Only it wasn’t Breanna.

  “Gracie!”

  She rushed toward me, lifting her hands to grasp mine. “I’m sorry for dropping in like this, honey,” she said, squeezing my fingers. “I just…frankly, I didn’t see that I had much choice. I need you to come back to Colorado.”

  I jerked my hands back.

  “No.”

  “Please,” she said, her voice urgent. “Lukas is behaving…” She laughed wildly, sketching her hands abstractedly through the air. “I can’t even describe it. But he’s hurting himself more now than I think he ever has. He acted rashly when he fired you. You and I both know that, but he figured it out and now he feels guilty and he’s taking it out on himself.”

  The knowledge was like a punch to the gut.

  “What am I supposed to do? Go back so he can take it out on me?” I asked bleakly. “He thinks I’m capable of stealing twenty thousand dollars.” Throwing my arms wide to encompass the salon, I demanded, “Do I look like I need twenty thousand dollars, Gracie?”

  “It’s not about the money with him – it’s about taking what he sees as his.” She sank down onto the edge of a chair. “He had to scrap for everything he ever had, and he guards it with a near mad possessiveness.”

  “And he blamed me for something I didn’t do.”

  “I know that!” Gracie shouted. Her face crumpled then. “I know that,” she repeated, sounding defeated. “But…Stella, please. I’m scared. I’ve never seen him like this. I’m afraid if something doesn’t change soon, he’ll do something…”

  The words trailed off and she looked away.

  The silence spoke more than her words could, and I dropped into the seat opposite hers.

  “What good could it do for me to go back?”

  Gracie canted her head to the side. Voice soft, she said, “You’re the only thing that’s mattered to him in years, Stella.”

  “Ha.” Bitterness filled me. Rising, I started to pace. “If I mattered, he would have listened–”

  “You’re the reason he bought the company, Stella.”

  Those words brought me to a quick stop, and I spun to face her. “What?”

  She inclined her head. “You heard me. You’re the reason he bought the company. After he brought you into town, he found out where you were going to be working. For a man like him, it wasn’t hard. He reached out to the owner – turns out he’d been interested in selling anyway. Lukas showed up at a good time and paid the asking price.” She shrugged. “He didn’t want to lose contact with you but it’s not like he was going to just…show up and ask you on a date. He bought the company because of you. Don’t say you don’t matter.”

  Stunned, I staggered back and might have just kept on going until I hit the wall, but my hip bumped a table that held one of my mother’s prized Tiffany lamps. Out of self-preservation, I managed to catch it before it fell, and I stood there, staring at the beautiful shade on it as my mind spun with everything Gracie had just told me.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked softly.

  Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. Slowly, I turned and met her eyes. “Pack.”

  30

  I was freezing.

  I’d grabbed the first coat I saw, and the leather ankle-length garment was far from the warmest I owned. It was a lot colder in Denver that it had been when I left just over a week ago, and snow was coming down in fat, fluffy flakes as I made my way up the walkway to the house where Gracie and Lukas lived.

  Gracie had given me her key and dropped me off, telling me she thought I’d do better if I was alone.

  Lukas isn’t opening up to me at all. If I’m there… She’d trailed off and just shaken her head.

  I wasn’t entirely comfortable being alone in the big sprawling house with Lukas considering how we’d parted, but I’d agreed.

  Now, as I fumbled the locks open and stepped inside, using her fob to disarm the system, I wondered what I was going to say, what I was going to do.

  Would he listen to me?

  Would he try to send me away?

  I didn’t know what I was going to do if he did.

  It wasn’t like I could walk.

  That thought, more than anything, settled me, because Lukas wouldn’t let me walk, which meant I had time to get through to him.

  I started up the steps, listening for the music I’d heard the one time I’d seen him hitting himself with the belt.

  But I didn’t hear music.

  It was almost eerily silent, but once I reached the hall that led to his room, I heard a rhythmic noise. Something slapping flesh. Swallowing the bile that rose up in my throat, I hurried down the hall. Something sharp bit into my hand, and I looked down, realized I’d tightened my fist around the key until the teeth were cutting into my palm.

  Swearing, I shoved the keys into my coat pocket as I came to a halt in front of the door.

  I went to turn the handle, determined to get in there and make him stop whatever he was doing to himself.

  But the door was locked.

  Swearing, I hit my fist against the door. “Lukas!”

  The noise coming from inside didn’t so much as pause. I hit the door with my fist again, and called out louder.

  Nothing.

  Swearing, I drew back, studying the door – and the lock. Then I smiled, reaching up into the messy topknot I’d twisted my hair into. I’d been a brat of a child, so different from my perfect sisters. I used to sneak into Annette’s room and read her diary – she was actually a little less perfect than she let on and her diary had been fascinating. Eye-opening, really. Once she realized I was sneaking into read it, she’d started locking her door and hiding it. So I’d learned how to pick the lock…and it had been a lock almost identical to the one on Lukas’s door. About as simple to pick as one could hope for. Squatting down, I told myself to ignore the noise and focus. I was a kid again, just trying to go somewhere I didn’t belong, and it was that much more fun for it.

  The hair pin I’d pulled from my hair almost wasn’t long enough, but finally, there was a satisfying click and I turned the knob as I rose to my feet.

  The view in front of me was enough to have me sucking in a horrified breath.

  Lukas hadn’t just been thrashing his back – he’d destroyed his room. Looking around, I took in the devastation, a little dazed.

  Movement to the left had me turning, and I shouted, “Stop!” just as Lukas when to strap his back again. It was covered in angry, ugly red welts, and a few looked like they might actually be bleeding.

  My heart broke a little.

  Lukas flinched at the sound of my voice, but the strap landed anyway.

  “
I said stop!” I shouted at him, rushing over and grabbing his wrist as he went to lift his hand again.

  He froze at my touch, his clouded eyes zooming in and locking on my face. He blinked, confusion in his gaze. The clouds slowly cleared, and he shook his head. “You’re here.”

  “Who did you think was shouting at you?” I demanded, tugging on the belt.

  He didn’t let go.

  “Give this to me,” I said, pulling harder.

  He yielded this time, letting the belt go and reaching up with his hand to touch my cheek. “Why are you here?”

  “Because Gracie told me you were being a dumbass,” I said, trying to smile, but it wobbled, then fell from my face before it even fully formed.

  Lukas shook his head. “You should have stayed away after what I did. I was an asshole – I am an asshole. I didn’t even give you a chance to defend yourself. I should have…” He stopped talking and turned away.

  The sight of his back made my stomach hurt, and I closed my eyes. I went to rub at my face, but the leather of the belt touched my skin. I dropped it, repulsed. He’d done himself so much damage. Taking a long look around the room, I asked, “Are you doing this because of me?”

  “I’m doing it because if I’m not, I’m hurting somebody else. You, Gracie. Even the people at the firm. None of them can stand to be around me and I don’t give a flying fuck about them, but it’s my company now and I need to make sure it’s fit to run on its own before I turn it over to somebody else for the day to day operations.”

  He laughed bitterly. “Fantastic fucking job I’m doing.” He spun to look at me, his eyes glittering. “Did you do it? Steal the money?”

  “No.” I lifted my chin. “My family is loaded. Why the hell would I need to steal?”

  “Some people do it for the thrill. But that’s not who you are. And I should have known that.” A wild look entered his eyes, that self-directed rage leaking through once more. “I should have. But I’m too much of a self-absorbed asshole.”

  “You are an asshole…” I said softly. “Sometimes. But everybody can be that way.” Taking a step toward him, then another, I hoped none of the heart-wrenching emotion I felt showed on my face. I knew he didn’t want it. But it overwhelmed me. “Lukas, you’re not a bad person.”

  “The hell I’m not. It’s stamped on my DNA. My dad was like this – I’m like this. Maybe if my mother had lived, I might have had a chance, but I came from shit and shit is all I ever knew – so that’s who I am.”

  “No.” Throat tight, I shook my head. I had to tell him. “Our DNA doesn’t make us who we are. Hell, if it did, I’d be as perfect as my parents are – as my sisters are. But I’m not. And you…Lukas, I don’t think Gilbert Grayson is your father.”

  His head jerked up at the sound of that name. “How do you know who he is?”

  “Because…” I took a deep breath. “Because I did an online background check and found out. I went to talk to him and he said…” Biting my lower lip, I hesitated a moment before blurting out the rest of it. “He said some pretty awful things about you and your mom, but he also said that he wasn’t your dad. He told me your father’s name was Holden Richmond. So I looked him up too. He lives in New York, and I went to see him. Lukas…you have his eyes.”

  He hadn’t moved, hadn’t blinked since I started talking.

  Now, he staggered a little. One hand went out, grasping the nearest post of the magnificent bed and slowly, he sank down. The eyes – eyes just like his father’s – stared blankly at nothing for what felt like an eternity. Finally, though, he shifted his gaze to me. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes.” I twined my fingers together, nerves biting at me. What was he thinking? How did he feel? Well, other than shocked. That much was obvious. “I know I shouldn’t have gone meddling, but I was trying to understand how anybody could lay hands on their child. What I realized was that, even if you were his, Gilbert would have hurt you. He’s just plain mean, but genetics aside, you’re not his son, Lukas.”

  31

  He stood staring out the window, as he had for the past ten minutes.

  I’d almost think he’d forgotten I was there, but every couple of minutes, he’d glance over his shoulder at me, nod slowly to himself, then go back to staring out into the falling snow.

  By the time he finally turned to look at me, my stomach was in knots.

  “Are you angry with me?” I asked nervously.

  “No.” He looked dazed, but to my surprise, some of the brackets that had seemed permanently stamped on his face looked…less. “I’m not. I can’t…hell, I always wanted to believe I was adopted or a foundling or something. I never actually thought there was any real chance that Gilbert would turn out to not be my father though. This is like an early Christmas present.”

  He flashed a smile that looked surprisingly young, almost vulnerable.

  My heart flipped over in my chest at the sight of it.

  I wanted to go to him and hug him, but everything between us still felt too raw.

  “You’ve got to figure out a better way to handle things when you’re on edge.” Deciding to test the waters, I moved closer to him and lifted a hand, lightly tracing the red edge of one of the marks just barely visible on the upper curve of his shoulder. “You tore yourself up today. You can’t keep doing this.”

  “I had to do something,” he said gruffly. “There was too much…” His gaze slid away. “I’ve got ugly shit inside me. I’m angry with myself, Stella. I shouldn’t have treated you like I did.”

  “No,” I said, agreeing with him. “You shouldn’t have. But you’ve got to find other ways to deal with it.”

  At some point, I’d stopped touching the mark on his shoulder and just let my hand rest on his chest. Now I was exquisitely, almost painfully aware of his heart as it beat against my palm. Tension, like electricity, buzzed between us.

  “What do you suggest?”

  Licking my lips, I said, “Well, I’ve got one thing in mind…for now.”

  He reached up, cupping my cheek. “That’s a bad idea with me in the frame of mind I’m in.”

  “I’m not in the brightest frame of mind myself, Lukas.” I tipped my head back. “I’m not afraid of you. I can take it.”

  His pupils flared. “Don’t tempt me, Stella. I’m weak right now. And when it comes to you, I’m not all that strong anyway.”

  My nipples puckered and tightened. The heat of him seemed to reach out across the inches that separated us, but it wasn’t enough. I needed more. Stepping closer, I lifted my other hand and reached up, sliding my fingers along his skin until I could link them behind his neck. “Come on, Lukas. See if you can make me cry wolf.”

  His mouth came crushing down on mine in the next moment.

  I only briefly had time to wonder if maybe, just maybe I was asking for more than I could handle.

  If so…well, I was going to enjoy every rough, wild minute of it.

  * * *

  He carried me to another bedroom.

  “This one isn’t fit for what I want to do to you,” he told me.

  He left me standing at the foot of the bed and said brusquely, “Be naked when I get back. Those clothes won’t be in one piece if you’re still wearing them when I walk through the door.”

  I was naked when he came back. Although I was a little chilly, I didn’t climb into the bed.

  The look in his eyes had warned me not to, and I was glad I’d listened to my instincts.

  He was only gone a few minutes, and when he returned, I was standing where he’d left me, but my clothes were now folded neatly, waiting on the dresser.

  It’s a vulnerable position to be in, standing naked in front of somebody while the other person is completely clothed. Lukas made no attempt to disguise his perusal of me, and I was painfully aware of the flaws, the curve of my belly, thighs that would never be model slim.

  But whatever it was that he saw pleased him – it was obvious in the way his pupils spiked, the black s
wallowing up the blue of his eyes. He came closer and tossed something on the bed behind me. I didn’t turn to look. Yet another lesson he’d taught me. Whatever it was, I’d find out soon enough.

  “Get on your knees. I want to fuck your mouth,” he said, voice raw.

  I knelt in front of him and reached up, unbuttoning his trousers and dragging down the zipper. I went to free him, which he allowed, but when I started to wrap my hand around the base of his cock, he shook his head. “Hands off.” He shoved one hand into my hair and fisted the other around his cock, holding it steady as he pressed the tip to my lips. “Swallow me. Take me deep.”

  He didn’t give me much choice either, thrusting in the moment I opened for him. He used his hand to mark my limit, then he did exactly as he’d said – he fucked my mouth. It was raw and primal, his need savage. I gripped his thighs to ground myself, feeling battered by the hunger I sensed inside him. My eyes teared up and a few drops broke free and rolled down my cheeks as he thrust past my lips, the head bumping against the back of my throat with each stroke.

  Wet gathered between my thighs.

  My nipples ached.

  I wanted him to touch me.

  I wanted to touch me.

  But if I did it right now, without his okay, I knew he’d make me suffer for it.

  He groaned and tore me off him. I whimpered and tried to follow, but he kept me in place with his hand tangled in my hair. “I’m going to come on you,” he said starkly. “There’s not going to be an inch of you that I don’t taste, mark or fuck by the time the night is over, Stella. You understand me?”

  As he spoke, he fisted his cock, stroking himself roughly, up and down, his fist swallowing up the head of his dick in quick, rapid pumps.

  I whimpered at the sight of it.

  “Say you understand.”

  “I understand,” I told him, eyes still on the magnificent cock in front of me. I licked my lips.

  He came.

  I gasped as his semen splashed across my breasts and belly, and still, he stroked. A drop of the white fluid slid down between my thighs, and I groaned. My skin seemed to have shrank down on me, becoming two sizes too small, just not big enough for all the sensation swimming inside me now.