He snarls at her. “You. Fucked. Him.”
I move to stand in front of her. She may not want my protection in this, but she’s going to get it. “Don’t speak to her that way. In fact don’t speak to her at all. Be grateful she let you live, because she is the only reason you’re able to take a breath right now. Be grateful and get the fuck out.”
“You can’t kick me out. I own this hotel.”
“Actually,” Bea says from behind me. “Your holding company owns the holding company which owns the holding company that owns this hotel. And my lease on the penthouse still stands. And I’m telling you to get out, too.”
He narrows his eyes. “I can void your lease. You know that.”
She takes a shuddery breath. “Then do it.”
Slowly he picks himself up, looking like an old broken man. But when he stands up straight he stares down at us like we’re trash. No, I’m the one he sees as trash. And he’s right about that. “You don’t want to cross me,” he says to Bea. “I would have given you everything.”
“No,” she says softly. “You would have taken everything. That’s what you do, isn’t it?”
He gives me one final look—an appraisal, this look. As if considering the man who could have killed him. Weighing whether he would survive another fight. No, he wouldn’t. Not even Bea could save him if he challenged me again. Nothing could save him if he hurts a single wild copper-colored hair on her head.
Perhaps he senses that because he turns and limps out of the room, keeping his head held high.
As soon as the elevator doors close behind him, I turn to Bea. “Are you all right?”
She holds up a hand as if I might hurt her, which makes me freeze. “I need you to go, too.”
Shock is a thousand tons of bricks on my chest. They make it hard to breathe. Harder to speak. “I’m sorry, Bea. I didn’t mean for that to happen in front of you.”
“But you did mean for it to happen, didn’t you? That’s why you came last night, without me even having to pay. Not because you’re interested in me, not because you’re a friend. So that you could find out something about the owner of the hotel.”
Shame is acid in my gut. “I care about you, Bea.”
A small smile. “Is that the company line? The official response when a client is foolish enough to think she’s special to you?”
“It’s not a line. I care about you more than I should, more than I imagined was possible. More than I ever cared about a woman before. Mon Dieu, I let him go unharmed for you.”
“You only had access to him because of me,” she shoots back.
There’s a tear down the center of me, its edges singed with guilt. The past and present. Revenge and a woman I can’t ever have. “What will you do?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know. Look for somewhere else to live, most likely. Edward probably has his lawyers looking for a loophole in the contract right now. I mean, it’s not going to be hard. They wrote the contract when my trust leased the penthouse.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. What you said… what happened to your mother… to you, it’s horrifying. I can’t believe that he… and well, somehow I’m not as surprised as I should be. He’s always thought he was above the rules.”
Relief suffuses me. She understands. “I knew he might have ties to this hotel, but that’s all. I did not know for sure that he was the owner. It might have been a dead end, but that isn’t why I came last night. I came because I wanted to see you.”
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. When she looks at me again her eyes are clear. Poor little rich girl, he called her? How can you he look at her, standing here like a goddess, and think she is anything but strong? “I understand why you did it. More than you know.” She has a sad little laugh. “I used to dream about getting my hands on the Somali pirates who killed my parents. Not that I would have been able to… you know, choke the life out of them.”
“I stopped. I stopped for you.” How could that not be enough? Why doesn’t she? That was everything to me. My driving force. I gave up my past for her, for a chance at a future, and now I’m left with nothing.
Her eyes glisten with tears. “But I can’t trust you. God, I barely know you.”
“You do know me,” I say, urgent. “What you said in the video… that was all true.”
“You saw that?” She shakes her head, sad and lost. “I can’t trust anything anymore. Not even myself. I thought Edward had my best interests at heart, even if he was a little pompous about it. But he was a monster all along. You need to go.”
“What if he comes back?” What if he forces his way inside this penthouse? What if he pushes her down on the bed? Bile rises in my throat, knowing what he’s capable of.
She shakes her head. “I can protect myself more than you think. More than he thinks.”
“Let me stay. We don’t have to do anything. We won’t have sex or even talk if you’re not ready for that. I’ll sleep on the couch, but I’m not going to leave you alone.”
“It’s my decision,” she says, and I can see her shutting down. I can see the walls come up around her like the marble walls of L’Etoile and the high windows. Like the private elevator that only she can use. “And if you don’t listen to me, you’ll be as bad as him.”
Dread squeezes my heart. “I would never force you.”
“Then go.”
The Den is quieter in early afternoon, a steady hum of conversation instead of the raucous crowd. I’m surprised to see Sutton sitting in an armchair in front of the fire, a beer dangling from its neck, the glass beaded with condensation.
I sit down in the chair next to him. “A little early,” I say, nodding toward the beer.
It’s an invitation for him to tell me what’s wrong. He takes a swallow before answering. “Needed a break from the office.”
“Problems in paradise?” I ask, my voice light. The construction and real estate company he owns with Christopher does well. And so far there hasn’t been conflict between the two men. I suppose it’s only a matter of time. They’re both strong-willed and stubborn, in their own ways.
“You could say that.” Sutton leans forward and sets down the beer between his boots, studying the ground like it has the solution to life’s problems. “There’s this woman.”
I groan. “No talk of women. Not today.”
His eyebrows go up. “You love talking about women.”
“Only good things. And I have no good things to say today.”
He laughs. “Don’t tell me Hugo Bellmont finally met his match. The virgin?”
She’s not a virgin anymore, but I don’t mention that. I’m sure he can fill in the blanks. I put up a finger for the cocktail waitress, because today we are drinking early. “Apparently you’ve met your match, too. Tell me about her.”
“It’s not like that. I mean, she’s beautiful. Smart. Like crazy smart.”
“Does she use words too big for you?”