Kane Page 4

  Too bad she’d never believe it. Wholesome beauty didn’t go very far around here.

  He nodded toward the closest bedroom, not doubting for a second she would follow. Sure enough, she appeared a step behind him when he cleared the ten-by-twelve room, and she closed the hollow, fake-wood door once she crossed the threshold.

  “Want me to give you something to be thankful for, baby?” She batted her thick fringe of lashes, but they both knew her heart wasn’t in it.

  He didn’t have the patience to beat around the bush. Besides, it was kinder to put his cards on the table. “I think it’s time we make a clean break.”

  She blinked, then lowered herself to sit on the rumpled sheets atop the double bed. “This is because I let myself in at your place.”

  Speaking of which. “How did you even get inside to begin with?”

  Her fingers tangled in the sheets, and she stared at them like they held the secrets of the universe.

  “Charlene.” His sharp tone issued a warning, and her eyes flashed up to meet his.

  “I took Scottie’s key.” She cleared her throat. “Off his keyring.”

  Heat climbed his neck. He fought the urge to lose his shit and simply held out his hand. “Give it to me,” he said quietly.

  Biting her lip, Charlene reached down the top of her bodice and pulled a long chain from between her generous, unnaturally round breasts. The key was threaded at the bottom. She frowned as she lifted the chain over her head and put it, along with the key, in his waiting hand.

  “I knew I was losing you,” she whispered. “I thought if I could be there when you needed me, you might see how good it could be between us.”

  He shoved the key into his jeans’ pocket. Any sympathy he might’ve had for the girl evaporated the moment she admitted what she’d done. “Geez, Char. It’s only been a few weeks. You can’t lose something you never had.” Deliberately, he turned his back on her and headed out the door.

  Scott glanced up from the table. “Quick work.” He snickered. “You know they make pills that can help if you’re having trouble in the bedroom.”

  Wisely, the prospect busied himself rubbing chalk on the end of his stick. Getting between two brothers was a lose-lose proposition.

  He lifted his middle finger. “If you’re worried about how well my dick works, feel free to suck it, brother.”

  Scott raised his thick, dark eyebrows. “Maybe if I could find it, I’d take you up on your offer.”

  They pretended to glare at each other for a few seconds before they both relaxed into smiles. A few feet from his brother, he leaned his hip against the table. “It was time to cut her loose. She was getting too attached.”

  “So? As long it’s her mouth attached to your junk, who gives a shit?”

  Scott’s bedroom door policy was wide open, with a welcome mat for any woman who wanted to come inside. His brother wouldn’t understand the way Charlene’s longing looks made his mouth dry up. But the man did understand the concept of respect. Maybe too well.

  “I found her in my bed the other night. Uninvited.”

  Scott lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, then turned his attention back to the table, lining up a shot.

  “She stole your key to my apartment.”

  The shot went wild, the white ball bouncing hard on the table. “The fuck, you say?”

  He dug in his pocket and tossed the key and chain onto the table. “The only women I want in my bed are ones I invite there.”

  “You toss her out of the clubhouse?” Scott pressed his lips together. It was a whole different ballgame when she crossed one of his lines.

  “Nah. I just told her we were done.” It seemed cruel to excommunicate her from the club simply because he didn’t want to fuck her anymore. Frankly, he had no idea why any woman wanted to be Property of the MC anyway. It was a life lacking in respect from anyone you shared your body with, but hell, it was their choice to make.

  Scott’s expression turned sly. “Maybe I’ll let her work off her transgressions on her knees.”

  “Knock yourself out.” The smell of frying meat wafted in from outside. He had forgotten about the turkeys. Turning toward the door, he tightened the ponytail at the base of his neck. “I’m gonna go finish helping Cue. Take better care of my key, asshole.”

  Scott’s belly laugh followed him as he returned to his post at the fryer.

  ***

  Amanda

  The Griffin house was more of a showplace than it had ever been a home. Amanda’s father lived upstairs, but the downstairs was designed to invite, impress, or intimidate, depending on the guest.

  As she walked in the door, she gave the interior a detached once-over. The walls were an icy white, with thick ivory trim. They contrasted starkly with the dark wood floors. The entry boasted a high ceiling all the way to the second floor, where a curved staircase drew the eye. Much of the ground floor was an open plan, which was great for the shock and awe her dad loved so much. She could see all the heavy, expensive furniture, thick rugs, and crystal chandeliers in a single sweep of her gaze.

  Terrence escorted her deeper into the house, though she knew the way. The older, soft-spoken butler had been with the family since she was a kid.

  She smoothed her hands over her black pencil skirt before approaching the two men standing by the fireplace. Both Nathan and her father were sipping off glasses filled with amber liquid. Fifty-year-old Scotch, no doubt.

  Her heels clicked on the oak panels as she advanced toward them. They both met her society mask with practiced, insincere smiles. Terrence disappeared silently into the background.

  “You’re late, darling. I hope you didn’t encounter too much traffic on the way here.” Her father’s lie dripped off his tongue like honey. He had told her to be here at five o’clock and it was four fifty-five. Still, she knew better than to argue.

  “I’m terribly sorry for keeping you waiting. You know how we women like to make ourselves look perfect. The time must have gotten away from me.” Rolling her eyes inwardly, she kissed her father’s cheek, then nodded at Nathan. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

  His eyes slid appraisingly over her body, from the loose twist in her hair to her pale pink silk shirt, all the way to her counterfeit Louboutin’s. They were fakes—good fakes—but she had no doubt Nathan would know the difference. Her feet weren’t where his eyes lingered, though. “Don’t worry yourself, pet. You were worth the wait.”

  She smiled tightly. “Shall I check on our meal?”

  The men wouldn’t talk business while she was here, and she knew damn good and well their wheeling and dealing was the real reason for this dinner. Without waiting for an answer, she slipped away to confer with the chef. The heat of Nathan’s gaze nearly singed her skin, and she fought the urge to shudder.

  Thank God, she wouldn’t have to endure him much longer.

  The double doors offered no sound or resistance as she made her way into the kitchen. Quiet and compliant, like everything else her father surrounded himself with. The chef was putting the finishing touches on the tray of carved turkey. His head shot up as he sensed her approach.

  “We are ready to serve, Mademoiselle.”

  “Thank you, Jacques. We’ll be in the dining room.”

  She’d hoped for an excuse to linger, but she should have known her father’s staff would be punctual to a fault. He would accept nothing less. Forcing her chin up, she returned to the fireplace where the men still had their heads together. She kept a respectful distance until her father nodded subtly for her to return. Even though he’d ignored her for five minutes, she had no doubt he’d been aware the instant she’d returned to the room.

  Leading the men to the dining room, she took the seat left of her father’s place at the head of the massive table. Nathan sat to his right. The servers immediately poured out of the kitchen. The wine came first.

  Nathan swirled the dark red liquid in his glass before taking a small sip. He prided himself a wine connoisseu
r. One of a hundred ways he excelled in pretension and pomposity.

  “Mmm. Goldeneye. Pinot noir.” He rolled the flavor around on his tongue. “2014?”

  Her father nodded sagely. “Always nice to share a meal with someone who appreciates the finer things.”

  She sipped from her glass demurely, the perfect society accessory, nodding as they waxed on about wood smoke and cherries. White zinfandel would satisfy her any day of the week.

  The meal rivaled any she’d tasted in a five-star restaurant. In addition to the lemon-herb turkey, Jacques prepared a sweet potato and butternut squash soup, cornbread dressing, and a cranberry-chocolate tart.

  The men spoke in hushed tones as Amanda moved the food around on her plate. Her father really hadn’t needed her here. The only purpose she served was to help them pretend this meal was something other than a business meeting on a holiday. The ticking of the grandfather clock only accentuated the lack of warmth or laughter at the table.

  Eventually, the staff returned to clear their plates. Nathan drew to his feet and nodded at her father. “It’s been a pleasure, Beau. I think you’ll be able to do some great things for the party. You have our full support. My secretary will reach out to yours at the beginning of next week. Amanda.” He said her name as an afterthought, but there was heat in his gaze when he nodded his farewell.

  She waited until the front door closed completely behind him before she spoke. “Shall we return to the sitting room?”

  Her father was rarely one to grin, but right now he clearly fought the urge. And lost. He rubbed his hands together as they moved toward the pristine white sofa.

  “You look pleased.”

  He schooled his features. “Yes. This evening has been a productive one.”

  Allowing her shoulders to relax, she leaned back into the seat. “I’m glad.” Finally, she could breathe. “I am so ready to end this farce of a relationship with Nathan. I don’t think I could’ve forced myself to keep it up much longer.”

  Her father narrowed his eyes. “You will not be ending anything with Nathan Shaw.”

  It took a moment for his words to sink in, but when they did, she sat up straighter. “What?” Panic fluttered in her chest. “No. Our agreement was for six months. You have no idea—”

  “You have no idea.” He slapped his hand on the arm of the sofa. “Our association with Nathan has been very productive, and I will not have you upset the apple cart.”

  “Our association? Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who has to endure his company or get treated like a piece of property.” Apparently, the three glasses of wine she’d downed at dinner were loosening her tongue. “After all, what’s the benefit to having a daughter if you can’t sell her off to seal a business deal?”

  Her father’s face hardened with every word. “You will not speak to me that way in my home, Amanda Grace.”

  “I won’t do it anymore, Dad.” She shook her head, climbing unsteadily to her feet, defiance pumping through her veins.

  “You will if you want my money.”

  She stopped.

  “Ah. Right. Let’s not forget, you aren’t dating Nathan out of the goodness of your heart. You want my money to save your little construction company.”

  She whirled around. “I only asked for a loan. Parents give loans to their children all the time. You were the one who put strings on it. The terms said I would date Nathan for six months, and you would grant me the fifty thousand you had for me in trust. It’s not even really a loan. It’s my money. And those six months are done. I held up my end of the bargain.”

  Her father peered at his fingernails. “It’s your money when you turn thirty-five. Let’s not forget.”

  “A deal is still a deal. You gave me twenty-five thousand at the beginning. I need the other twenty-five thousand now.”

  He rolled his eyes. “To save your precious Charlie’s company.”

  “It’s my company now,” she growled. “Mine and Mike’s. And you know it.”

  “Be that as it may, I need you to stay on Nathan’s arm a little bit longer.”

  Her voice rose. “Those weren’t our terms.”

  “Our terms have changed!” His shout echoed in the cavernous room. He breathed deeply and clenched his jaw. “Nathan finds you a pleasant companion. He and his connections are going to support my run for governor. I can’t have you upsetting the balance of things right now.”

  “But he hurt me,” she whispered, balling her fists. “The last time we were together, he hit me, and he kicked me when I was down.” She thrust a fist against her thigh. “Don’t you care?”

  “Of course, I care.” Nothing in his voice indicated he was surprised by her admission. “I’m not asking you to let him hurt you. I’m simply asking you to extend your association with the man for a little bit longer. Really, what can he do to you in public?”

  When she released her tense fingers, tiny half-moons marks indented her palms. She swallowed back the sob lodged in her throat. Reaching for her Ice Queen veneer, she met her father’s level stare. Her feelings didn’t matter to him. Why would she think otherwise? This was a business deal. “How do I know you won’t change the terms on me again?”

  He held up his palms. “I give you my word.”

  “I no longer find your word carries the weight I thought it did,” she said formally. “I suppose I inherited my sense of honor from Mom’s side of the family.”

  “Honor,” he spat, and his face contorted in a sneer. “Was she honoring me when she ran off and left us? When she married another man?”

  She stuffed her outrage down. Why was she even surprised? Her father had never thought of anyone but himself. Her happiness had never been his priority. Neither had Mom’s. It was the reason she’d left, and she’d been right to do it.

  Her mask slipped a little. “Mom didn’t leave us. She left you. I should’ve done the same thing years ago.”

  Why hadn’t she? Was she still worried he’d betray the agreement they’d made all those years ago? Or was it because she was so hollowed out, there was nothing beneath the masks she created to hide her true self?

  “You’re being overly dramatic. Whether you recognize it or not, I’ve done nothing but look out for your best interests.” He walked to the fireplace and poured himself two fingers of scotch from the decanter on the mantelpiece.

  “Sure. As long as I did things your way. Dated the men you wanted. My happiness never mattered then any more than it matters now.”

  He slammed his drink on the mantle, sloshing the liquor over the rim. Only the thickness of the high-quality crystal kept the glass from breaking. “You are not talking about the ridiculous infatuation you had in college. We always come back to it. That boy—”

  “Man.” Her voice shook, all signs of the Ice Queen melted. “That man meant everything to me. But no. I’m not talking about Kane. I’m talking about Nathan. I won’t date him anymore. I won’t sleep with him. And I won’t let him hit me ever again. I will be cordial to him and be an escort to a few more events. But I swear, Dad, in two more weeks, I’m done either way.” Empty as she was, she’d reached her limit.

  “Four. And I’ll send a bodyguard with you everywhere you go.”

  She considered his offer. The money was essential for her expansion plan at Cooper, and though she’d probably qualify for a bank loan, the debt would make the company look weak. The man she wanted to do business with will have done his homework, and she had to approach him from a position of strength.

  “I know your stepbrother really needs that business of yours to stay afloat. Even with insurance, his medical bills must be quite draining.”

  Bastard. Mike, his family, and their business were the only things left she cared about. “Fine. Four weeks. And I’ll take you up on the bodyguard.”

  Her father’s smile was the same practiced one he’d given Nathan. “It may actually work out for you better in the end. Even if he is a bad egg underneath it all, Nathan Shaw can only help yo
ur social standing in this town. You never know, maybe some time on his arm will help you land a man worthy of the Griffin name.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Amanda

  Walking through her brother’s small foyer, the weight from Amanda’s stressful day finally lifted from her shoulders. The Cooper house represented everything she wanted her own home to be one day. Never mind the fact it would fit four times over into her father’s place. She’d take warm and inviting over cold and pretentious any day of the week. She loved sinking into the plush suede sofa, and she always wanted to kick off her shoes the second she walked in, just to squish her toes inside the fluffy throw-rugs.

  It’s what her niece, Aliyah, did now, standing barefoot on the thick fabric. Her pudgy, eighteen-month-old fingers held on to the coffee table for balance.

  “Mana!”

  She swept the little girl into her arms for a gentle hug and was rewarded with a wet kiss to the side of her face. Her heart ached. She’d held out for years, unwilling to raise a child if she couldn’t do it with a man she loved. At this point, though, she was ready to be a mom, even if she had to do it all on her own. Lots of women did it.

  She could have done it with Joshua, but when he was born, it seemed easier to let him go with her brother and his wife.

  A new baby wouldn’t happen while Nathan was in the picture, though. She would rather cut out her own tongue than to tie herself to a prick like him for the rest of her life.

  She breathed in the lingering baby-smell on Aliyah’s light-brown skin. Soon, all of her toddler traits would vanish, leaving a rough and tumble preschooler in their wake. She’d seen it happen before with Joshua, even if it had been from a distance, more than a decade earlier.

  “Is your Auntie-Manda covering you with kisses?”

  The little girl squirmed at her father’s voice, and Amanda released her to toddle toward her daddy’s wheelchair. Mike looked frailer than he had the last time she’d seen him. It seemed counter-intuitive since he was supposed to be healing, but it’s not like he could hold on to his muscle mass with two broken legs, a shattered pelvis, and a punctured lung.