Yours to Keep part 3: Billionaire CEO Romance (Captured and Claimed) (7 page)

He took a big bite of his ham and Swiss and pointed to his brother Gabe. “He’s the baby of the family. Momma’s boy all the way. We couldn’t do anything wrong without him tattling.”

She laughed. “I don’t know about that. I think you were all momma’s boys.” She chewed her sandwich and went quiet for a moment. “What was it like growing up in a big family?”

Quinn took a sip of his wine. “For us kids it was great, but how my mother put up with four boys and a husband was beyond me. We weren’t exactly angels.”

“No?”

He laughed. “Hell no. Josh and I had a misguided youth, but Dad’s belt got us back on track.”

She chuckled. “Is your dad…?” Her question trailed off, as if she didn’t want to dig too deep.

“He died a few years back. He was a good man.”

“And you’re close with all your brothers.”

“Thick as thieves.”

She laughed. “Gabe doesn’t tattle anymore?”

“No. We have too much on him these days for that.”

They ate their sandwiches as she flipped through a few more pages, a look of longing on her face. She finished her wine and he took the glass. “Do you have any more albums?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He climbed from the bed and searched his bookshelf. By the time he found one, he turned to find her sound asleep.

His heart squeezed to see her so warm and content in his bed. He put the book back, slid in beside her and tucked her in. In no time at all he fell asleep. A sound pulled him awake, and he turned, half expecting her to be gone after realizing they had indeed crossed over into BDSM last night. When he found her still sleeping quietly, the love he felt for her tightened his throat. A noise sounded again, and Quinn climbed from the bed and pulled on his jeans.

He tiptoed down the hall and found his brother coming in through the front door.

“Hey,” Quinn said. “Early morning?”

Josh grinned. “More like late night.”

From the kitchen, he spotted Eloise preparing coffee. “We’ll take it in the den,” he said.

Josh followed him in and sat on the edge of his desk. “How are…things?” he asked.

“I don’t know. She’s giving me mixed signals and I don’t even think she knows it. I want to give her what she wants but she’s not ready.”

“She’s afraid.”

Quinn opened the box with the collar and ran his fingers over the jewels. It symbolized a commitment to each other, as well as the BDSM lifestyle. How would she react if she knew he’d had it made for her?

Eloise brought their coffee and they both sipped in silence until she left. “I know you care about her, bro, but is giving up a big part of who you are what you want to do? If she loved you in return, would she really ask for that?”

“She didn’t. I offered. She refused. I insisted.” Quinn scrubbed his hand over the scruff on his chin. “I want to be what she needs. Even if we stayed in the lifestyle, there is still a piece of herself she won’t give to me, anyway, which means I could never collar her.”

“Then why don’t you move back to L.A. with me. Start again.”

His office door creaked, and he looked up, expecting to see Eloise. When he spotted Rebecca standing there in one of his robes his heart missed a beat. Her gaze left his and went to the collar in the box. He quickly closed it. Shit, how much of their conversation had she overheard?

He crossed the room to her and that’s when he noticed the glazed look in her eyes. He waved his hand in front of her face. “Rebecca,” he said.

“What?” she asked, her gaze moving over his face.

“Where’d you go?”

She blinked and squared her shoulders. “I have to go,” she said. “I need to go home and get ready for work.”

“It’s Saturday.”

She gave him a forced smile. “I’m a workaholic, remember.”

Quinn looked at the clock. “Okay,” he whispered, taking her hand in his and leading her back to the bedroom. “Let’s get dressed. But before I drop you off at home, there is somewhere I’d like to take you.” He cupped her face and looked deep into her eyes. What he was about to do next would either solidify their relationship or rip it wide open. But no matter what happened to them, he had to do this—for her.

Rebecca sat in the vehicle beside Quinn and kept glancing his way. She took in his strong profile as he maneuvered his sports car through the early morning weekend traffic. He kept his focus on the road straight ahead. Was he avoiding direct eye contact with her on purpose? Perhaps he was worried about what she’d overheard in his den.

Her mind returned to the conversation between him and his brother, and the beautiful diamond-studded collar he’d had made for her. Her heart tightened because she knew what that collar represented—complete physical and mental surrender.

That idea squeezed the air from her lungs and told her one thing. Today, after he dropped her off, she was going to end it with him, no matter how hard it would be to not have him in her life. He deserved a woman who could give him all parts of herself, and she couldn’t do that.

She glanced out the window and an uneasy feeling gripped her when he started into the neighborhood she was far too familiar with. Surely to God he wasn’t…

He rounded the corner and reached for her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Quinn?” She sat up a little straighter in her seat, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling. “Where are we going?”

“Almost there,” he said, shooting her a quick look. The car slowed outside Dorothy Kean’s home, and her gaze locked with his. Fight or flight instincts kicked in and urged her to flee, to get as far away from the place as possible.

She pulled her hand from his. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She gripped her forehead, pushing her hair from her face as she tried to wrap her brain around this unexpected turn of events. Quinn reached for her hand again and she snatched it back, anger coming sure and swift. “You shouldn’t have brought me here. Take me home right now.”

“Rebecca,” he said, his voice soft. “Just hear me out.”

The car seemed to be closing in on her, choking the last of the air from her lungs. She could feel Quinn’s eyes assessing her. She turned from him and glanced at the house. A gasp caught in her throat when she saw Dorothy exiting the front door and making her way down the weed-infested walkway. She walked down the cracked and pitted sidewalk with a cane, hobbling past the car without noticing Rebecca inside. Rebecca’s stomach twisted and she gripped the dash to steady herself.

“She can’t hurt you anymore,” Quinn said quietly. “Look at her, she’s nothing but a lonely old lady lost in her own misery.”

“How…how do you know her?”

“I paid her a visit.”

“You did? Why?”

“I wanted to try to figure out what happened to you.”

He had no right to do this. Panic gripped her. “She knows who you are?”

“No. I made up a story about a neighborhood watch program.”

The hem of Dorothy’s dress swayed as she walked away and Rebecca’s heart slammed harder against her chest.

“Just look at her,” Quinn said again. “She’ll never hurt you again. No one will. Because I’ll never let them.” Rebecca had spent so many years hating the woman—fearing her. “She’s old and broken and not the least bit scary.”

Rebecca took in her feeble and twisted frame. Quinn was right. She didn’t seem so scary anymore. Didn’t look like the monster she remembered from her youth. Not only did she look old and frail, she looked completely alone and miserable. It almost made Rebecca feel sorry for her. Almost.

She turned to Quinn and didn’t realize he had her hand in his. “Why did you bring me here?” she asked again.

“To confront old ghosts.”

“You had no right to do this.” She shook her head. “I told you something private and you betrayed me.”

“You must know by now how much I care about you, Rebecca. How I would do anything for you.”

She looked at her lap. “I can’t give you what you want, and you shouldn’t change for me.”

“I’m not asking for anything more than for you to face your past. These things inside you…you need to confront them before you can let them go.”

She opened her mouth to demand he take her home, but he pressed his fingers to her lips. “This house…your youth, has something to do with being afraid of the dark. I want to help you move past that.”

She scoffed. “Why? So you can have me the way you want me in the bedroom?” she shot back. “Jesus, Quinn. You should have just left me alone after our trip to the resort.”

“This isn’t about me, Rebecca. This is about being free, period. From a childhood riddled with uncertainty and rejection. From the darkness forced upon you by a cruel and unloving woman. About recognizing your inner strength and overcoming your fears of darkness and embracing the security and pleasures that it offers. I’ll be with you all the way, but that first step is yours to take.”

“How do you know all this? I never told you where I grew up.”

“I had a friend look into it.”

With her emotions running high, tears filled her eyes. “You had no right.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I took what you told me in private and dug deeper. I hope at some point you realize I did it for you, to help you free yourself.”

She shook her head. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Okay, then prove me wrong. Come inside with me.” He opened his door, crossed in front of the car and came around to her side.

With defiance urging her on, she put her hand on the door handle, then hesitated as old memories resurfaced. Her glance met Quinn’s, and when she saw the reassurance in his eyes, strength blossomed inside her and her chin came up. He was right. The things that had happened in that house were still controlling her, robbing her of having normalcy in her life, her relationships, and no matter how scary, it was time to face her demons, slay them, and put them behind her once and for all. She gave a small tug on the door handle. The second it opened, Quinn was there beside her, his arm around her waist.

He held her as they crossed the street and climbed the stairs. She hesitated again. “Dorothy isn’t even in there for me to confront.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t go in.” He pulled a credit card from his back pocket and slipped it between the door and the frame.

She gasped. “What are you doing?”

“Opening the door. These locks are as old as Dorothy, easy to pick.”

“How do you know how to do that?”

“Misguided youth, remember?”’

“This is breaking and entering.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take all the blame.”

She stepped back. “I’m a lawyer, Quinn.”

“Good. If I get caught you can get me off.”

The door opened and when she caught the smell of pine cleanser, old memories hit again. Her stomach twisted, bile pushing into her throat. “I hated it here, Quinn. When I left I swore I’d never look back.” She stepped away, but Quinn took her hand. It was a small thing, so often taken for granted, but that touch, his presence, his support helped her go on.

“Sweetheart, you can’t move forward until you look back. You have things you need to deal with and overcome.”

He stepped inside and she hesitated. She looked over her shoulder to see a car turn the corner. Not wanting to get caught hovering on the doorstep like a convict, she darted inside, shut the door behind her and leaned against it.

The second she saw the door to the basement, she became overwhelmed with anxiety. Panic gripped hard and she clutched her chest. A noise sounded in the kitchen and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“It’s just the cat,” Quinn said.

She nodded and noted the way he was watching her with great care, the way he always watched her.

She looked at the basement door again and pinched her eyes shut, her mind going back to when she was thirteen. She was so angry when she’d first come to live here. She’d been so good at the previous home—did her homework, washed the dishes, and always did as she was told. When those foster parents tossed her aside when she hit her teen years, it left a bitter taste in her mouth and a huge hole in her heart. She’d acted out here at first, but had quickly learned that her disobedience came with severe punishment.

Her gaze went to the heavy lock dangling on the loop, and under her breath she said, “It’s still there.”

Quinn turned and followed the direction of her gaze. He stepped away and touched the lock. “This?” he asked.

She nodded, unable to get the words past the lump in her throat.

“What happened here?” he asked, his voice soft.

She swallowed and managed to get out, “I don’t like the dark.”

He pointed to the cellar. “She put you down there, didn’t she?”

She didn’t need to answer. Her shaking body said it all.

“I’m going down,” Quinn said.

Her hand darted out and she grabbed him. “Don’t. It’s full of rats and God knows what else.”

“I’m not afraid of rats.”

“I am.” A sob caught in her throat as she recalled the sounds of the rats closing in on her. She brushed at her clothes and hugged herself. It took all her mental strength not to lose it back then. Rebecca glanced at the front door, then back at Quinn. “What if she comes back?”

He held the lock out in his palm, then squeezed it. “She can’t hurt you anymore. Not if you don’t let her.” Quinn reached up and pulled a chain dangling from the ceiling—one she could never reach as a kid—and the light to the basement flicked on.

She took a tentative step forward and squeezed his hand hard as he led her to the dank, musty basement, the smells instantly taking her back in time. Her heels clicked on the cement floors when they reached the bottom, and she looked around. Besides the washer and dryer there was nothing in the basement, nothing for her to be afraid of.

Her ears perked at the squeaking sounds, and she practically jumped into Quinn’s arms. “I can hear them,” she cried out.

He cupped her face. “Rebecca, sweetheart, what you hear are the pipes. This place is old. There are no rats down here, nothing at all to hurt you.” He waved his hand. “Look around, and when you realize that it’s not scary in the light of day, you’ll know you have nothing to fear in the dark of night.”