Chapter Thirty
Dominic
I watch Elizabeth sleep. She’s so beautiful, her face relaxed. The pleasure I found in her was brilliant…cleansing. It didn’t leave me feeling cheap and needing a shower like with other women over the last ten years. Without thinking, I run my fingers through her hair.
Make it hurt.
Doesn’t she know how dangerous it is to ask a man to hurt her like that in the middle of sex? She didn’t set any boundaries, no safe word, nothing. And I know she’s not into pain. We screwed like bunnies on Viagra ten years ago, in every position, everywhere we could find privacy. But never once did she hint or ask for anything rough.
She shifts, revealing the scar.
It’s jagged and faint. How the hell did she end up with that? She isn’t exactly the type to get into something like a knife fight. Even if I were to believe that she did it to herself, most people don’t hurt themselves by stabbing themselves in the side of the chest.
At the softest brush of my thumb over the scar, she flinches and whimpers. A mixture of anger and protectiveness surges over me…and I can’t believe I still have these feelings toward her. But I do. I’ve always felt this way. It’s as inescapable as gravity.
Unable to sleep, I slip away, going to the living room. I consider closing the door, but don’t, just in case she needs me.
She’s in bed, sleeping. What can she possibly need you for?
I don’t know. But I don’t care that I’m being illogical at the moment.
I park my ass in an armchair and call Antoine. It’s late, but he never sleeps.
Sure enough, he answers on the third ring. “Why aren’t you asleep?”
“Because I have a mystery that’s keeping me up.”
“Mystery? I thought you went to a beach party.”
That info came from Brian. My assistant is tight-lipped, but Antoine is the head of my security. “I need a thorough dossier on Elizabeth,” I say. “How soon can you pull one together?”
“No time at all. I already did it.”
“What?”
“I know you didn’t ask for it…yet. But it isn’t like you to go into battle blind, so I knew sooner or later you’d get around to asking. It was kind of a preemptive strike.”
I can’t decide if I should be thrilled or alarmed that he knows me so well. When he asked if I wanted one a few weeks ago, I told him no because I’d decided I already had her figured out.
“So. You want it now?” he asks smugly.
“Yes. Email it to me.”
“You also want the stuff on her brothers?”
“You looked into them, too?” Maybe I don’t give Antoine enough to do.
“You gotta know her family if you want to know about her.”
“True enough.”
“You want a quick summary? There really isn’t much about her.”
“Okay. Go for it,” I say, interested to know what Antoine thinks about Elizabeth and her brothers.
“I’ll start with her brothers. I don’t know how she ended up the way she is, because her brothers are pretty arrogant and set in their own ways.”
Huh.
“Her oldest brother is a cold-hearted jerk who’s in venture capital. Her second brother is the actor Ryder Reed, who, as we all know, has an amazingly messy history with all sorts of women. There’s actually a Facebook support group for chicks he’s ‘humped and dumped.’ He got married not too long ago, but who can guarantee she won’t be joining the support group soon? Then her younger brother, Elliot, who’s really her half-brother, released a sex tape. My understanding is that he did that to piss off his parents. And his twin had an accident that left him disfigured and limping. Ever since then, he’s become a hermit. Finally, her mother, Geraldine Pryce, is a complete bitch.”
I don’t need Antoine to know that.
He continues, “I can see why her grandmother didn’t want Geraldine to take over the family foundation. She thinks poor people are poor because that’s what they deserve. And her father, Julian—well, we already know what an asshole he is.”
“Get to Elizabeth.”
“I am getting to her. But you need to know the background…”
I sigh loudly enough that he can’t miss it.
“Fine, fine. Elizabeth spent almost all of her childhood in Europe, in boarding schools. She rarely came to the States. I imagine spending time in the U.S. wasn’t high on her list of things to do based on the fact that her mother is a bitch and her father was always busy with some new trophy wife. So after you guys broke up ten years back, she dated several men in her social circle—their names are in the dossier I just emailed you—but five years ago, it all abruptly stopped. She quit appearing in social settings for almost six months, then suddenly she started to attend those events with Nate Sterling. But they aren’t lovers. That I’m sure of. There is no indication of any romantic or sexual stuff going on between them at all, contrary to what people say.”
I rub my lower lip. Antoine is definitely right about this. Now that I can reflect more objectively about Nate’s proposal, I can see it wasn’t the kind that’s made between people who love each other. Somehow he found out about Julian’s scheme and wanted to help. It’s possible Nate has romantic feelings for Elizabeth, but she certainly doesn’t have them for him. I’m pretty sure she’s fond of him, as much as I hate the idea. But I’m positive it isn’t love.
“Elizabeth is also worth about seventy million dollars.”
Seventy million? I knew she was rich, but not that rich.
“Her grandmother, Shirley Pryce, left her everything except for a few hundred thousand for the household staff. Although Elizabeth is currently leading the Pryce Family Foundation, she doesn’t draw any salary. The foundation pays for her expenses when she’s on business, but nothing excessive.”
“This isn’t much.”
“No, it isn’t. Most people don’t want to say anything negative or gossipy about her. It’s like they’re either afraid to talk or she really doesn’t have any skeletons in her closet. So if you’re considering blackmailing her, I don’t think that’s going to be possible.”
“Blackmail’s the last thing on my mind.” I pause. “Is there anything in the last ten years that looks suspicious? Maybe some kind of physical altercation?” Even as the words leave my mouth, I realize how ridiculous it sounds that someone like Elizabeth would be in a fight.
But that scar…it’s real.
“Other than some annoying stalkers that were taken care of by her security team, nothing. What sort of specifics are you looking for?”
“Not sure.” If Antoine dismisses them as “annoying” and “nothing,” they’re a minor nuisance.
I’m trying to put the pieces together, but they don’t make sense.
Maybe…
Is Kristen right?
I let out a shuddering breath. My emotions are veering crazily among shock, outrage, disbelief and uncertainty.
I have to get a grip. You can’t solve a problem if you start out with the wrong assumptions. The early astronomers proved that. What if there is a simpler, more logical answer? I just need to shift my paradigm a little bit.
My gaze drifts back to the bedroom. Elizabeth hasn’t stirred.
“Keep digging into Julian,” I say to Antoine. “And thanks for the information about Elizabeth.”
“My pleasure. Glad I was able to help.”
I hang up. Maybe it’s time I threw out my assumptions and started over.