False Security
“Speaking of which, King, aren’t you going to introduce your friend?” the younger man asked.
Donovan introduced Rachel to the other guests. The older man, Stanley Meade, had features more stereotypical of an aging schoolteacher, not a wealthy banker. His greying hair, hooked nose, and wiry stature reminded Rachel of her third grade teacher. Stanley’s wife, Vera, sat next to him wearing a bright violet dress with a scooped collar lined with faux fur. Several strands of oversized pearls adorned her plump neck.
Beside Vera sat their nineteen-year old daughter, Kimberly, a rather pretty girl whose blonde locks, heart-shaped face, and blue eyes resembled neither her father nor mother. Her impatient expression and crossed arms informed the room that she resented being dragged to the dinner with her parents.
The younger of the two men was Jonathan Thomas. As much as Donovan disliked him, she expected a devilish looking man, but no horns jutted from his sandy brown hair. His light and playful expression contrasted Donovan’s intense features, and his youthful face lacked the same lines that graced Donovan’s eyes. Rachel chided herself for comparing the two men and for finding Jonathan attractive.
“So, Rachel,” Jonathan began after they were seated.
Donovan interrupted before Jonathan could finish his thought. “I see you couldn’t scrounge up a date tonight, Thomas. You might be losing your touch.”
“Obviously you haven’t. Where did someone like you manage to find someone like her?” Jonathan leaned in, a conspiratorial edge to his voice. “You didn’t have to hire her, did you?”
Vera gasped and clutched her pearls, and Kimberly choked on her drink. Stanley took interest in the conversation and moved his chair closer to the table. Rachel was relieved Donovan didn’t bring a gun with him, though from his expression, she could tell he might just kill Jonathan with an instrument of opportunity.
Rachel didn’t flinch at Jonathan’s statement, having heard much worse from Eric over the years. “Actually, he did hire me,” she said to Jonathan. Donovan grabbed her hand under the table as a warning, but she ignored him. “But you know, he’s such a gentleman that I might throw in the sex for free.”
Stanley failed to stifle a laugh, while Vera fanned herself and Kimberly pretended to ignore the exchange. Donovan squeezed Rachel’s hand and a satisfied grin took control of his mouth.
Jonathan raised an eyebrow and a smile tugged at his lips. “The angel speaks and she’s a feisty one.”
“Well,” Vera said, her tone expressing disapproval. “I think it’s good Jonathan was unable to bring a date this evening. My sweet Kimberly will make the perfect dinner companion for him.” Her superficial smile evolved into a natural one. She chirped in Jonathan’s direction, “And she’s single, too.”
“Mother!” Kimberly said, her cheeks flushed.
Vera ignored her daughter and began her sales pitch. She leaned across the table so Jonathan could hear her better. “Kimberly has won every beauty contest she entered since five years of age. She’s also exceptionally talented. She can play five instruments and speaks fluent Japanese. She’s in the top of her class at—”
The sound of champagne corks popping interrupted Vera’s speech. Rachel jumped in her seat and turned to see several waiters moving throughout the tables, filling champagne glasses. Donovan placed his hand on her thigh and whispered, “Cal likes to put on a show.”
Rachel chuckled and whispered back, “It’s a good thing, otherwise we’d be hearing how Miss Kimberly won her first grade spelling bee with the word ubiquitous.”
Donovan suppressed his laugh. “Be nice, Rach.”
Mischief glinted in her eyes and she smiled. “I could say the same thing to you.”
He bowed his head in compliance, and a soft laugh escaped Rachel’s lips.
She was glad to see Donovan keep his promise, and they made it through dinner without another altercation between the two men. Rachel imitated every move Donovan made as they dined. Rachel savored every bite of the multi-course meal, which consisted of seared scallops, arugula salad, a medium-rare filet of Kobe beef, and a beautiful flan in a decadent caramel sauce.
Content to listen to the others around her, Rachel contributed to the conversation only when necessary. Vera’s attempts to pawn her daughter off on Jonathan amused Rachel. Kimberly’s face remained flushed during dinner, revealing a slight crush on Jonathan along with discomfort at her mother’s domineering manner.
Donovan and Stanley kept busy discussing business and politics, and their conversation focused on their gracious host’s bid for the Oval Office. Having been shielded from the world for so many years, Rachel did not understand most of their discussion. She decided that even if she had lived a normal life in the outside world, she would still have little interest in political matters.
Though amazed at the conversation around her, she was even more in awe of Donovan. Though she always knew Donovan was an important man, the conversation between Stanley and Donovan demonstrated just how important. Rachel realized she was lucky that he chose her to be by his side, and her love for him grew in the short time they had been at the dinner.
Waiters came to clear the tables, and the music that accompanied dinner peaked in volume. Couples rose and moved to the center of the room to dance. Rachel watched them glide across the floor, and her mouth turned upward. Violins and champagne worked together to form a blissful haze in Rachel’s mind, and she understood the true meaning of the word romance. It danced in her eyes, keeping time with the graceful figures sweeping across the room. Rachel didn’t want the evening to end.
“You know, Jonathan,” Vera said, “my Kimberly is an excellent dancer.”
Kimberly rolled her eyes.
“I’m sure she is,” Jonathan said, and he pushed his chair back. He walked around the table and stood beside Rachel. He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “You don’t mind, do you, King?” Not waiting for a reply, he led her toward the other dancing couples.
Horrified, Rachel asked, “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to dance with an angel.”
“And I don’t get a say in this?”
He wrapped his arm around her waist and planted his hand in the middle of her back. “Maybe later.”
Rachel stood still. “I...I’m not sure I know how to dance.”
“It’s easy.” He took her hand and placed it on his shoulder. “Follow me, and you’ll be fine,” he said. He grasped her other hand in his and drew her near his body.
Claustrophobia overcame Rachel. “You’re much too close,” she said.
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Jonathan said. He pulled her closer. “Is that better?”
His body pressed against hers and her breath caught in her throat. Her feet surprised her by keeping up with his every move, and she tried to preserve her composure. “You are the most arrogant bastard I’ve ever met,” she said under her breath.
“I would have thought that privilege belonged to King.” He glanced over her shoulder, in the direction of their table. “He doesn’t look too happy at the moment.”
“I don’t blame him. I’m not, either.”
“That’s too bad. You should learn to relax and enjoy yourself more.” He continued before she could speak. “What do you do for a living?”
She answered his question with reluctance. “I work for Donovan.”
“I was under the impression that you weren’t a prostitute.”
Rachel glared at him. “I’m security at his estate.”
“Are you here for business or pleasure?”
“Until a few moments ago, pleasure.”
“You really don’t like dancing with me?”
She hesitated, not wanting to admit that a part of her did enjoy dancing with him.
“Nothing smart to say? I take it you find me irresistible.” He slid his hand down to the small of her back.
“If your hand goes any lower, you’ll learn just how resistible I find you.”
J
onathan slowed his movements. “I’m not a bastard, like you think. If you want, I’ll be happy to escort you back to King right now. I’ll even apologize to him for my rude behavior. I’m sure he will gloat about that for years, but I’m willing to make that sacrifice for you.”
His green eyes fixed on hers and she thought they were probably the most incredible eyes she had ever seen, more hypnotizing than even Donovan’s eyes. Something about him was much different than Donovan, and that intrigued her. The way he held her was in stark contrast to Donovan. She had never experienced such gentle arms. “Maybe in a little bit,” she said.
He smiled and they danced in silence. She followed his graceful steps over the floor and she floated on air, comfortable in his arms, his body natural against hers. It really was a fairy tale.
Every fairy tale has a Prince Charming.
The thought brought her back to reality. She grew uneasy at her unexpected attraction to him, and became aware of Donovan’s watchful eye. “I think I should go back now,” she said, though she wished he would refuse and keep her longer.
Despite her mental urging, he stopped. “Thank you for dancing with me, Angel. Maybe we can do it again very soon.” His lips found her cheek, and lingered for a moment on her skin.
When they reached the table, Donovan stood up and took her hand from Jonathan. “Thank you for letting me borrow her,” Jonathan said. “I apologize if I’ve insulted you in any way.” He walked over to Kimberly and held out his arm. “I would be honored if you would dance with me.”
Kimberly blushed and took his arm.
“You’ll have to excuse us,” Donovan said to Stanley. “It’s getting late and we have quite a drive ahead of us.”
“Of course,” Stanley said.
“It was very nice to meet you both,” Rachel said.
“Likewise, my dear,” Stanley said. Vera flashed a spurious smile.
Rachel risked a glimpse in Jonathan’s direction. He held Kimberly at a distance, and over her shoulder, his eyes reached out to Rachel. She drew a sharp breath and then clamped her mouth shut. Donovan led her out of the room with a tight grasp on her hand.
Chapter Fifty-one
Rachel Pettis trailed behind Donovan King until they disappeared up the steps and out the door. Jonathan’s eyes roamed to his left, where Cal Robbins twirled his wife. Cal met his eyes and gave him a slight nod as if to say, “I saw what you did.”
Jonathan nodded back. All right, you caught me. He chuckled softly at their silent exchange. He and Cal had been friends for so long that Jonathan couldn’t hide any of his motives from him. Of course, Cal was also friends with King, and that put Cal in the precarious position of having to play diplomat between the two men at social events.
It was widely known that Cal’s friendship with King was more political than amicable, but they were friends nonetheless. King had been one of the driving forces behind Cal’s campaign for his Senate seat. With the help of Graham Wilkes, King practically got Cal elected and kept him in that position.
Jonathan shuddered at the thought of Graham Wilkes. Though he appeared to surround himself with respectable businessmen as associates, Wilkes was nothing more than a glorified drug dealer. If it hadn’t been for keen business sense and sharp criminal instinct, Wilkes would have been dealing from a street corner by a school in between jail stints. And Wilkes and King were as close as brothers.
There were rumors about King, about his nose being not so clean. About his business dealings not always being legitimate. The rumors, however, were unfounded. Nothing more than supermarket tabloid headlines coming from the mouths of prominent and allegedly upstanding men and women. Over the years, King proved predictable and almost boring, making Jonathan think that maybe he remained impervious under Wilkes’s influence.
But tonight, King threw Jonathan for a loop. A woman. How interesting. Even more interesting was Jonathan’s reaction to her. He saw her from across the room the moment she stepped foot through the door. Her smile captured his heart before he noticed she was on the arm of Donovan King.
As King introduced her, Jonathan got his first glimpse into those angel eyes and he never wanted to look away. Then she responded to his gibe at King and surprised Jonathan with her sharp tongue. Throughout dinner, her gestures and her conversation proved her to be graceful, elegant, and natural. Much different from other women thrown at him by overbearing mothers like Vera Meade.
Jonathan grimaced, having almost forgotten the woman he danced with now. He smiled at Kimberly and reinforced through his rigid arms that he had no intention of letting her body get close to touching his. He wanted to keep the residual feeling of Rachel pressed into him for the rest of the evening. The warm scent of her skin clung to his lips, and he wondered who could blame him for wanting to share a dance with such an intriguing and beautiful woman.
King did, Jonathan thought. Damn King. He had stolen Rachel out of Jonathan’s arms. Well, after Jonathan stole her first, that is, but it didn’t matter. He would find a way to make it clear to King that he had unexpected competition. After all, Jonathan always got what he wanted.
It was the only trait he shared with Donovan King.
Chapter Fifty-two
The entire ride back to the estate, Rachel kept her eyes lowered to the floor. Her fingers twisted and turned, turned and twisted. When they first climbed into the limousine, she attempted conversation, but Donovan did not respond so she gave up. She had nothing left to do but wring her fingers, and the silence consumed her thoughts.
The limousine hit a slight bump in the road before driving through the front gate of the estate. Donovan’s cellphone rang once. He didn’t move to answer it. Twice. He did not shift his penetrating stare away from her face. Three times. Why wouldn’t he answer his phone? Four rings. She willed him to speak, cough, anything to break the silence between the ringing of his phone. Rachel’s fingers twisted and turned faster.
He was upset, there was no avoiding that fact. Nothing she could say now would change his mood. The silence between them during the long drive only fueled her fear. She had never been more afraid of him than she was now, even though she had done nothing wrong to upset him.
That wasn’t entirely true, she told herself. At the beginning of the fateful dance she may have been at the mercy of Jonathan Thomas, but after he offered to take her back to the table, she chose to continue dancing with him. Something about him fascinated Rachel. Even during dinner she stole a number of glances his way. While they ate, she convinced herself she looked at him to take part in the conversation, but she knew that wasn’t the only reason.
Then came the dance and the way his body felt against hers. He held her in a gentle, comforting manner that was difficult to ignore. In the moment when his lips touched her cheek, something happened inside of her. She loved Donovan, she had told him so before the dinner, but that emotion was threatened by this unexpected outside force named Jonathan Thomas.
Rachel cringed inside. She had done so much wrong, to the point that it felt as if she had betrayed Donovan, the man she told she would always love. She still loved him now, but after being in the warm, kind presence of Jonathan, she wondered if there was something wrong with the way Donovan loved her.
The driver helped her out of the limo again, but unlike at the home of Senator Cal Robbins, she did not wait for Donovan to get out before she moved up the stairs and through the front door. Once inside, she rushed down the back stairwell and into her room. She hoped he would retire to his own room and not say anything about Jonathan.
But Donovan continued to follow her. The closer he got, the more his palpable anger smothered her. Rachel walked to the other side of her bedroom, and Donovan shut and locked the door behind them. She removed the scarf from her neck, and dropped it to the ground when he came up behind her and latched his hands onto her shoulders.
Donovan shoved her, and the side of her face crashed into the wall. His body pressed into her back, not allowing her any room to breathe. H
e took her hands and slid them along the wall until they were above her head. He forcefully ran his hands down her arms. “Is this what you want?”
Her fingers curled into the wall, and her hands fell next to her head. She twisted her head to the side, but couldn’t see his face. A high pitched zip jerked tears from her eyes. The flaps of her dress rolled open and cool air breathed on her exposed back. He tugged her dress down and it bunched around her ankles. He ordered her to step out of the dress, and he kicked it aside with his shoe.
His uncontrolled emotions seeped through rough hands that groped her body, touching her in ways that excluded love. He pushed her harder against the wall until she thought her ribs might snap.
The clasp on the back of her bra unhooked, and Rachel’s stomach dropped. “No, Donovan,” she said. “Please don’t.”
He moved back to give her a bit of room between her body and the wall. “Is this the way you want it? So you can pretend he’s the one you’re with?”
“Don’t do this, Donovan. Please don’t do this. I don’t want him.”
He grasped her arm and whirled her around, his fingers so tight it was as if they pierced her skin and cut off the circulation. Her hand reached up and held her bra in place, so she wouldn’t be even more exposed. His nostrils flared and anger radiated from his narrowed eyes.
Her trembling hand touched his face. “I don’t want him,” she repeated. She inched closer to him. “I only want to be with you. You know that I love you.”
At her words, Donovan released her. His rage-filled expression relented to despair, as if someone else had taken over his body and forced him to hurt her. For a moment, she thought he would cry.
Donovan bowed his head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I never want to do those things to you. It just happens. I’m trying, Rachel, I really am. I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t lose me,” Rachel said. She wrapped her arms around him. “I’m yours, Donovan. That won’t ever change.” For the first time, as the words left her mouth, her cheek stinging with every syllable, she wasn’t sure she meant what she said.