Sarasota Bride (7 page)

Trey rolled his eyes, wishing he hadn’t because the movement pained him. “Is that what this is all about? We’ve taken women together, and you’ve enjoyed watching. If you wanted to get off, you should have said something.”

Drake poured himself a scotch, making a double for Trey. “It’s not about me getting off. It’s about you admitting that you’re in love with her.”

Trey couldn’t decide what he wanted more, a drink or a shower. He opted for the drink, taking Drake’s offering. “I’m not in love with Elizabeth.” Oh, hell, he was in love with Elizabeth, hadn’t realized the depths of his feelings until he saw Hudson readying to plunge inside the sweet body that should only belong to Trey.

“We’ve been friends for years, ever since Gilda threw us together as family. I have watched you go through surgery after surgery and indescribable pain.” He took a long draw of his scotch and pointed his finger at Trey. “And don’t think I don’t know you’ve been skipping out on some of your physical therapy, because I watch that shit.”

Trey snorted. “Only because you want to fuck my physical therapist.”

“Not funny.” Drake sat opposite of Trey on the long leather sofa, breathing deeply, contemplating. “I know about your kidney.”

“Gilda shouldn’t repeat things.” Trey grew quiet, setting down his scotch.

“I’ve kept it to myself, thinking if I helped you with this plan that there would be some justification in the world for Trey Easton. Problem is - I’m confused.”

“What’s so confusing?”

“Are you really seeking revenge on Libby’s father or on Libby?”

“That’s ridiculous!” Trey shot back. “Libby didn’t really…do anything.”

“Yeah, Trey, then why did you make her out to be the ultimate bitch? I would have helped you no matter what, but I hate being lied to.”

“I’ve never lied to you.”

“Then you’re lying to yourself.” Drake polished off his drink. “I’m going down to the club and get rid of this hard-on.” He stood. “While I’m gone, you have a long hard talk with yourself. Start by explaining why Libby is downstairs crying after you took her.”

“She’s crying?” His heart kicked up. “Why? She seemed so indifferent, even cold.”

“I didn’t see cold
anything
from her. I saw a woman who’d been hurt by the man she still loves. And after you kick yourself in the ass for making her cry, ask yourself why you took Libby without a condom and conveniently
forgot
to pull out?”

Chapter Eight

Waiting in The Easton Trattoria for his coffee, Trey repeated, “Black, please.”
Like my heart.

“Yes, Mr. Easton,” the barista whispered nervously, her hand shaking so much he figured she’d spill the steaming liquid all over her, but she managed to pour, secure the travel lid, and wipe the drips. He handed her a twenty, turning around and spotting Elizabeth with a basket in her hand, shopping with Noah Wyatt. He stepped forward, his teeth on edge. Trey knew nothing was going on between Elizabeth and Noah, but he was standing too close to her, their movements and conversation coordinated in the way of old friends. The way she used to act with him. He nearly crushed the cup in his hand.

“Is there anything else, sir?”

“No, good day.”

“Good day, sir.”

He backed away from the counter, furious he’d been caught stalking someone in his own fucking hotel, and maneuvered around the tables and patrons with his long cane until he made his way outside to the harbor. He stopped to sip his coffee, wondering what he was going to say to Elizabeth, and stood for a while, watching tourists feeding seagulls bits of sweet rolls.

“Fat gulls,” said Elizabeth from behind him.

“Well, why would they dive for fish, when they can waddle on the pier in their delusional happiness and be hand fed?” Without looking at her, he used his heightened senses, catching the scent of her shampoo, the tangy sweet undertones of the skin he’d tasted. Trey didn’t want to look at her this closely. His eyesight was pretty acute today, and from what he could see when inside the trattoria, Elizabeth was wearing a fuck-me dress with matching shoes. His dick had preformed a salute, wanting to cozy up to her sweet cunt. So he kept his eyes fixed on the harbor. Of course, she had to move in next to him, brushing the side of his arm with one of her small but glorious tits.

Pointing to a shit covered sign requesting hotel patrons not feed the birds, she asked, “Isn’t it odd how they dump all over the sign yet nothing else? You’d think they could read.”

“Maybe they can.”

Were they really having a bird conversation right now? Trey shook his head. How could she stand there and act so utterly blaze while he sweated beneath his suit, sporting a hard-on? Purposefully, he hadn’t run into her for three days now, asking Drake to see to her. With the company of his laptop, he had stayed on the roof garden outside his penthouse night after night, pulling Dylan’s load of work and then staring aimlessly at the stars so he wouldn’t go to Elizabeth’s suite and fuck her mindless. Or tell her that he loved her, knowing full well she wouldn’t reciprocate after he’d bulldozed her life.

He cleared his throat, dodging the obvious for long enough. “Did you take the medicine I had sent to you?” Elizabeth moved in front of him, blocking the view of the harbor with the body he so desperately needed. If only he didn’t know what he was missing, he wouldn’t want between her creamy thighs right now. And he could see them quite well, the hem of her pink skirt shifting in the breeze, taunting him to run his fingertips upwards and find her secrets. Again.

“The emergency contraception was so thoughtful, thank you,” she said sweetly, peering over her dark glasses and flashing the same blue eyes that had stared up at him when he was sixteen and didn’t know what he was doing with her body, but only that he loved her. “By the way, did you get the bag of condoms I had sent to
you
?”

“Sure did.” Oh, it had been a bitchy move on her part. She had sent them to his penthouse via his general manager. Donaldson had arrived in Trey’s foyer carrying an open shopping bag hailed from one of the downstairs shops overflowing with an assortment of condoms. Libby had tediously removed each prophylactic from its perspective wrapper and stretched it long with her naughty hands, making erotic streamers. “How many condoms were in that bag, Elizabeth? Two, maybe three-thousand?”

“Four, to be exact,” she said triumphantly, “if you count the French ticklers.”

“Well, I’ve never seen my GM so taken aback.” He tossed his coffee into the trash. “But I must admit the neon-colored cock rings and gigantic bottles of herbal supplements were a nice touch.” He stepped closer, sensing a quickening in her breathing. “Who knew I suffered from erectile dysfunction?”

“Well, the first step in healing is to admit you have a problem.”

He leaned on his cane, pressing his mouth against her ear. “Obviously you’re fuming because I forgot the condom, but am I right in thinking you’re pissed about the Morning After contraception?” He shouldn’t have fucked her in the first place! What a mistake, he realized, but not for the obvious reasons. After they’d gone at it on the balcony, he wanted more and more and more. He wanted to take her upstairs to his bed, a place he’d never brought any other woman. He wanted to fuck her in all ways imaginable. And only after he’d gotten all the pent-up steam out of his system, Trey wanted to slow his roll and make…No, no, no! No matter what he wanted, Elizabeth would never allow him to make love to her, not now.

“You are assuming I’m not a responsible woman.”

He pulled back, staring down into her lying eyes. “You’re not on the pill.”

She bristled. “How do you know that?”

Drake couldn’t find any pills in her hotel room or her purse. “You just told me.”

“All you had to do was ask, Trey,” she said quietly, nodding at Noah as he left the trattoria with an armload of purchases. “I would have been honest.”

Apparently, he’d put her in the category of her father somehow, refusing to take her word for anything. “Well, now I know.”

She pivoted on her fuck-me shoes, her toenails glittering the same color pink as her velvet sheath. “Well, Noah’s waiting.” Rummaging through her purse, she produced her all-paying room key. “The firehouse is operational, and I have tenants waiting to move in.”

Reluctantly, he pocketed the card key. “I have a family function to attend tonight.”

She shrugged. “You’ve stayed away for days now and you’re trying to what, let me in on your schedule?” Her lips puckered in annoyance. “I don’t care where you go Trey.”

“I’m not letting you in on my schedule. I’m expecting you to come with me.”

The wind chose that moment to pickup, swirling her girly-scented hair in front of his face. “Take someone else.”

His eyes dropped to her knees, his mouth wanted to brush behind them. “No, I’m afraid I need you on my arm. The world knows who you are now, Elizabeth, and I can’t attend with anyone else.”

“Then go alone.”

“You pointed out that you’ve had three days of freedom.” He ignored his buzzing phone. “The way I see it, you owe me time lost…and kisses. Lots and lots of kisses,” he taunted, watching her spine go rigid.

“Nope,” she sounded strange then, her voice cracking. “I think you screwing me cancels out any kisses due.”

“I disagree.” He trailed his fingertips over her exposed collarbone, sensing the pebbling of her skin in his wake. He glanced down and noticed she was wearing the diamond he’d bought her, though she’d flipped it around so no one would notice. He dropped his hand from her collarbone and spun it, his eyes boring into hers. “If you need it again, Elizabeth, you will come to me. I will not allow the picture-taking, tongue-wagging world to think Trey Easton is cuckolded by his darling fiancée.” He’d walked through enough hell without being laughed at.

“Then I guess I’d better not need it.”

She blazed a trail to an awaiting Noah, and Trey called after her, “Your attire will arrive at five, please be ready by seven.” Her shoulders bunched as she nodded her head, yet she kept walking.

When Trey reached the elevators leading to his office, Drake caught up with him. “I had dinner with Libby last night.”


An uncomfortable tightness seized Trey’s chest when they ascended. “She ate with you?”

Drake adjusted his tie. “Well, you asked me to see to her needs.”

He stepped out of the elevator when the doors parted. The tightening in chest eased, but an odd sort of panic settled in his gut, churning his coffee. “From now on, I’ll keep tighter reigns on the situation so you won’t have to.”

They stayed quiet while passing their assistants’ desks, nodding morning greetings. When they reached Trey’s office door, Drake leaned in, whispering low, though their shared hallway was far removed from their assistants. “You know, Trey; after everything you did to Libby, I never expected her to take you on the balcony the other night,
never
.”

Because Libby had changed. The timid teenager he’d once known had turned into a fierce woman unafraid of her sexuality. “Needs are needs. It was nothing more.”

“Whatever you say.” He unbuttoned his coat and walked to his office.

Dylan came barreling around the corner with Avery in tow. “I want to talk to you. Now.” He stormed through Trey’s doors, but he didn’t sit down. Instead, he paced like a caged tiger, his eyes set on Trey.

Trey shut the door. “Why are you two here? I have everything under control.”

“France?”

“Dylan, not to worry, I’ve only delayed the trip for another week.” Trey found his chair, relieved to get the pressure off his back. “Go back to Payton.”

“She’s riding with Noah and Libby to the firehouse.”

That was a surprise. “She feels like working?”

“She feels better, considering.” A muscle ticked in Avery’s jaw, his neck without bandages was healing. “We’re not here to discuss Payton.”


Dylan leaned on Trey’s desk, his big hands spreading flat. “Apart from Gilda, I’ve never met a woman as loyal as Libby. I mean…anyone would admire her loyalty for her friends and her selflessness for her family.”

Trey thought Elizabeth’s selflessness for her family was completely misplaced, but Dylan didn’t know what was going on since Drake and Trey had kept the sources of the insider trading quiet. “Yes, Elizabeth is a fighter.” So was Trey, yet he’d been in the corner for far too long, waiting for the bell to ring so he could jump out and give her father the final blow. Elizabeth could fight all she wanted to as long as she didn’t get in his way. “And?”

Avery sat on the corner of Trey’s desk. “One day you’re yanking Libby’s firehouse away from her, the next she’s wearing your engagement ring. I smell something.”

“I admitted we had a shared past.” Trey tapped his fingers on his desk. “We decided it was far better to love than to fight.”

“Funny how you’ve allowed only enough parking to permit the firehouse its renters,” Dylan speculated, “yet Libby, Payton, and Noah still need the remaining parking lots in order to open the galleries for artists and patrons.”

Avery nodded. “The roadway access is still blocked. Why’s that?”

“I’m giving her the property after we marry. Get off my back.”

“Tell us what this really is about, Trey,” Dylan insisted.

What Trey had planned was so brilliantly simple, to take everything from Elizabeth’s father — though nothing could compare to what her father did to him, robbing Trey of most of his sight and much of his ability to fucking move his body — and that included taking Bailey’s daughter, but only for a while. Just enough to show bastard Bailey that Trey could have anything in this world he so desired while Bailey looked up from the fucking bottom. Trey hoped he was sweating it out, losing sleep while pondering how his life had flipped upside down, wondering how he was going to walk his beloved Libby down the aisle, raise her veil and kiss her cheek, only to hand her over to the man he’d had beaten to within an inch of his life simply because Trey wasn’t good enough for his daughter. And although Bailey had pleaded with him when Trey had met him privately, admitting that he’d been a drunk during those dark years — equally drunk on power as he was on booze— Trey still couldn’t understand the magnitude of violence Bailey had delivered to a sixteen year old boy.

And he never would.

After a fashion, he would conveniently release Elizabeth from their engagement wealthier than her current circumstances, since he
would
sign over the property encircling her firehouse, once again enabling parking and roadway access for her business. But Bailey deserved to be tortured for a while longer.

“When there’s more to tell, I’ll let you know,” he dismissed them. “Now, unless there’s anything else, I have work to do.”

“I’ve demanded this of you before, to straighten this shit out before I take it to the board. You aren’t listening!” Dylan looked positively lethal. “I’ve never lorded my birthright over any of you. In fact, I’ve considered every child Gilda Easton adopted a cousin, or even a brother of mine. But you’ve left me no choice, Trey.”

Avery agreed, “Our Payton has been through enough, and if we have to play hardball with you, a man we consider our brother, then so be it. So make the right call and make it fast.”