The angry facade slipped a fraction. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I saw the files from the sale of the hotel, Daddy. I know about all of your debt. All the lies you told me.”
“He’s trying to turn you against me.”
He was still going to deny it? Lie to her face? At the very least she had expected a humbled apology, maybe a plea for forgiveness. Instead he continued to try to deceive her?
She wanted to grab him and shake some sense into him.
She was stunned and angry and hurt. And even worse, she was disappointed. All of her life she had looked up to him. Idolized him even. But he had changed that forever.
“The only one doing that is you, Daddy,” she said sadly, knowing that she would never look at her father the same way again.
“I should go,” Charles said, taking a step backward from the door. This was a little too intense for his taste. Had he known it was her father at the door, he never would have interfered. He had enough of his own family issues to deal with without taking on someone else’s.
Victoria held up a hand to stop him. “No. You stay. You were invited. My father is the one who needs to go.”
Technically, Charles had shown up unannounced and muscled his way inside. But he didn’t think now was the time to argue with her.
“I can’t believe you’re choosing him over me,” her father said.
“And I can’t believe you’re still lying to me,” she shot back, although she sounded more resigned than angry. “Until you can be honest with me, we have nothing left to say to each other.”
Before her father could utter another word, she shut the door and flipped the deadbolt, and for several seconds she just stood there. Maybe waiting for him to have a change of heart.
After a moment of silence, she rose up on her toes and peered out the peephole. She sighed quietly, then turned to face Charles and leaned against the door. “He’s gone.”
“Victoria, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s not your fault. He’s the one who lied to me. He’s still lying to me.”
“I’m sure he’ll come around.”
She shook her head. “I’m not so sure. You have no idea how stubborn he can be.”
If he was anything like Victoria, Charles had a pretty good idea. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m not sure. But I do know what I’m not going to do.”
“What’s that?”
“All my life I’ve been doing what my father asked of me. What was expected of me. Not anymore.”
She surprised him by taking his hand, lacing her fingers through his. She gave it a tug. “Come on.”
“Where?”
“Where do you think, genius? To my bedroom.”
Wait…what? How had they jumped from dinner to her bedroom? “I beg your pardon?”
He’d been out to get in her knickers since the day he met her. And it certainly wouldn’t be the first time he’d taken advantage of a situation to seduce a woman—although she seemed to be doing most of the seducing now. Not to mention that he had a strong suspicion she was slightly intoxicated. Again, that had never stopped him before. Yet, something about this just didn’t feel right.
He actually felt…guilty.
She tugged again and he felt his feet moving.
“Hey, don’t get me wrong,” he said, as he let her lead him down the hall. “I’m not one to pass up revenge sex, but are you sure this is a good idea?”
“I think it’s an excellent idea.” She dragged him into the bedroom and switched on the lamp beside her bed. Only then did she let go of his hand.
Like the rest of the flat, there were boxes everywhere, but in the dim light the bed looked especially inviting. And oh, so tempting.
But he knew he really shouldn’t.
She turned to him and started unbuttoning her blouse.
Christ, she was making it really hard to do the right thing. “Maybe we should step back a second, so you can think about what you’re doing.”
She gazed up at him though thick, dark lashes. “I know exactly what I’m doing.” The blouse slipped from her shoulders and fluttered silently to the carpet.
Ah, hell.
Underneath she wore a lacy black bra. Sexier than he would have imagined for her. But he’d always suspected, or maybe fantasized, there was more to Victoria. That deep down there was a temptress just waiting to break free.
It looked like he was right.
She reached behind her to unzip her skirt, and desire curled low and deep in his gut. “Are you just going to stand there?” she asked.
“I just don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.” Where was he getting this crap? When did he ever care if a woman had regrets? Was he, God forbid, growing a conscience?
“I’m a big girl. I can handle it.” She eased the skirt down her legs, hips swaying seductively, and let it fall in a puddle at her feet. She wore a matching black lace thong and thigh-high stockings. And her body? It was damn near perfect. In fact, he was pretty sure it was perfect. And he was so mesmerized that for a minute, he forgot to breathe.
“You’ve been after me for days,” she said. “Don’t chicken out now.”
Calling him a chicken was a little harsh, considering two days ago she’d accused him of disrespect toward the opposite sex. The woman was a walking contradiction. But an extremely sexy and desirable one.
His favorite kind.
She walked toward him—stalked him was more like it—and reached up to unfasten the buttons of his shirt. She did look as though she knew what she was doing.
One button, two buttons. He really should stop her. It wouldn’t take much. Although he suspected that if he turned her down now, he wouldn’t get another chance.
Damn it. It shouldn’t be this complicated. Maybe that was what was really bothering him. This had complex and messy written all over it.
One more button, then another. Then she pushed his shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. She gazed up at him, sighing with satisfaction, her eyes sleepy and soft. She flattened her hands on his chest, dragging her nails lightly across his skin all the way to his waistband. She toyed with the clasp on his slacks…
Oh, what the hell.
He circled
