Home > Mistletoe and Mr. Right(54)

Mistletoe and Mr. Right(54)
Author: Sarah Morgenthaler

   He tossed back a swig of his scotch. “Local trash, you know how it is. I’ll own him and the next three generations of his trash family by the time I’m done with him.”

   Little did this idiot know that Lana had just had the best date of her life with Diego’s “trash family.”

   “So when he hit you, was that before or after you sexually assaulted his girlfriend?”

   Lee blinked, startled. “I’m sorry, what?”

   “Oh, it’s not that complicated. A big strong man like you, you probably prefer the smaller women. Ones you can lean over, crowd into small spaces, make them know how you have the control.”

   “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

   “Sure you do. It’s why you already have your lawyers on their way here. But you’re not going to sue him.” Lana calmly took a sip of her drink. “And you’re not suing the Shaws either.”

   She paused to let that sink in, then said, “You know that big deal your father brokered with my mother? It was for an overseas shipping company, right? With the majority of the contracts between Europe and the Eastern Seaboard? You’ve spent quite a lot of money in obtaining those ships. One would almost think that you’d stretched a bit too far. Unfortunately, those ships are going to need to use shipyards, which happen to be owned by a subsidiary of the Montgomery Group. It would be awfully inconvenient if you were to suddenly…I don’t know…find yourself without a place to dock and repair your ships.”

   Horror slowly dawned on his face. “You can’t.”

   “Oh, I promise you, I most certainly can. And I absolutely would.” Lana let that register before continuing. “Trust me, there will be no need to own the next three generations of your family when I’m done having your balls removed. Metaphorically speaking, of course. I’m not a complete monster.” One more sip, then she added, “Probably.”

   “What do you want?” Lee asked in a low, controlled voice.

   “Drop the charges against Diego. Plead no contest if Quinn presses charges against you. And do be a dear and drop the lawsuit against the resort as well. We can’t have you ruining a nice place with your disgusting behavior, can we? You should also get your hand off my chair. I’m finding you rather repulsive at the moment.”

   “I’m not pleading no contest because some girl got the—”

   “Got the right idea that you are in no uncertain terms not allowed to put your hands on her? That woman now owns you. She’s too sweet to come talk to you, so I’m her proxy. Tell me, would you like to continue doing business with me, Lee?”

   A snarl was his answer, but she could see in his eyes that Lee knew she had him cornered.

   “Good. I feel the same way,” Lana added sweetly. “Now, are you sure you don’t want that drink?”

   * * *

   Lana should have spent her evening in a more productive way, like going back out on the Santa Moose search, but instead she decided to err on the side of better phone reception. She had texted an offer of a lawyer for Diego, but Rick had only replied that things were “happening” and he’d contact her with an update soon.

   She even took her phone into the dry sauna with her, even though the heat was as bad for the technology as it was good for her sore muscles. Sleeping in a car with Rick might have been a pleasant way to wake up, but it sure wasn’t great for the neck. After melting away some of her tension, Lana went back to her room, idly sketching out a new plan of attack on catching her moose.

   When the knock came on her door, Lana wasn’t sure she really wanted to answer. After all, she’d meddled. And meddling—even with the best of intentions—always had consequences.

   Still, Lana had never been afraid to meet the hard conversations head-on, so she opened her door for the man standing on the other side.

   Even though they’d woken up together that morning, it felt like a lifetime had passed.

   “What did you do?” Rick asked quietly. “The charges were dropped but no one is saying why.”

   Lana was tempted not to answer, to breezily pass it off as good luck. Instead, she leaned her shoulder against the doorframe.

   “Are you sure you want to know?” Tilting her head, she looked up at him, biting her lower lip.

   “Would I be here if I didn’t?” The heat from his body warmed the air between them. “Diego was nearly sick from relief when I drove him home. I’d like to know why we’re not both still sitting over there with Jonah or headed to Anchorage.”

   Sighing, Lana said softly, “Because I made it go away. That’s what we do. We make things go away when they don’t suit us.”

   Lana could hear the slightly self-derogatory tone in her voice, matching the way she felt about that aspect of her family…and herself.

   “I threatened Lee, and he backed down. Bullies always back down.” Embarrassed, Lana pushed on. “It’s not something I’m proud of—”

   Midexplanation, Rick closed the distance between them, taking her face in his hands as he kissed her. Like before, the instant his skin touched hers, a fire flared inside her, leaving Lana a mess, plastered to him in the open doorway of her hotel suite.

   “In his whole life, that kid has never caught one single break.” Rick’s voice was husky with emotion. “Never apologize to me for protecting my family. Can I come in?”

   The polite request was overwhelmed by the way his hands wrapped around her waist, drawing her in closer.

   “Rick, you never have to ask,” Lana said.

   Rick took one step inside, and to her surprise, he lifted her up off her feet with the strength of one arm. Turning, he pushed the door closed with his other, pressing Lana’s shoulders into the door. Her knees tightened into his waist, her arm wrapping around his neck for balance as hungry hands slid up her sides.

   “Is this your version of a thank-you?” Lana bit her lip as he nipped at the sensitive skin behind her earlobe.

   “I could write you a letter instead, but I’m not too good with words.”

   Maybe, but he was absolutely amazing at what he was doing. Closing her eyes, Lana relaxed into his hold, running her fingers through his hair.

   “How far do you want this to go?” he asked her in a low, hungry voice.

   “Hmm. The couch seems like a good distance.”

   Rick chuckled. “That’s not exactly an answer.”

   They ended up on the couch in a mess of limbs, with Lana pulling his face to hers. Lana wasn’t sure how far she wanted things to go, but his arms felt wonderful wrapped around her, the solid weight of his form leaning against her.

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