Chapter 15

Josh

It shouldn’t have irked him that she had a gown ready to wear, and that that gown had been purchased with Jamie’s money…

It shouldn’t have, but it did.

Still, she looked gorgeous. Absolutely stunning in the bright violet sheath that set off her hair and creamy skin. Combined with a leather lariat Samantha wore around her throat, that was tipped with a huge bulb of lapis lazuli on one end and a large turquoise on the other, she looked bright and fresh. Rich, without being ostentatious—and a lot of the female guests looked exactly that. Overdressed with all their gems and the stench of their perfume wafting around with them.

“Are you okay?” he asked, dipping down to whisper the words into her ear. Her scent was light and fresh, just like her—a breath of fresh air.

She blinked at him. “Of course.” Her ease in these situations surprised him.

It was almost like she’d been born for this role. There was no nervousness about her, no anxiety. She wore the tight-fitting dress like it was her second skin, and stood, shoulders straight and back long and tall, with a proud air that enticed him.

Her confidence came as a surprise now, considering her past. And again, thoughts of Jamie had him clenching his free hand in a fist. The other was holding hers, a surprising gesture on his part, one he’d made when they’d been stepping into the Anderson’s front door.

He wasn’t a tactile man, had never been tender or appreciated affection, but there was something about her…

And that something pissed him off if he were being honest.

He didn’t understand it, and wanted to…

“Are you okay?” she asked, staring up at him, a question in his eyes.

“I’m fine,” he told her tightly, quickly grabbing a flute from the tray of a server and downing it quickly.

“Sure. You don’t really look it.”

What could he say to that?

Sighing, he shrugged. “I’m just antsy.”

“Why?”

“I don’t particularly want to be here.” That was the truth. Well, half of it.

“Why are you here then?”

“Because of business. You know as well as I do that a lot of deals go down in the private homes of the rich and famous as much as they do in corporate boardrooms.”

She blinked at him. “Sure, I knew that with Jamie, but you wield more power than he did. Surely you can dictate to them?”

He laughed a little. “You’d have me be a true dictator, huh?”

Grinning at him, she stated, “I don’t see why not. There has to be some perks, after all.”

“True.” Josh’s lips curved in a smile. “But, I actually don’t mind the Andersons.”

“Okay, so what’s really going on then?”

When the woman at the opposite end of the room caught his eye, a catty smile on her lips, he had to grimace. “See that woman over there?”

Samantha blinked. “The one in the leopard print dress?”

Yeah. Jasmine had never had that much elegance about her—and unlike Samantha, had been born into this lifestyle.

Sometimes, he realized, class simply couldn’t be bought.

“What about her?” she prodded when he fell silent as he stared down into his flute.

“I broke up with her today.”

Beside him, Samantha tensed, and considering his delivery who could damn well blame her?

“Fuck, that was tactless of me,” he admitted.

“Yes,” she said coolly. “It was.” Then her lips curved. “I’m really seeing another side of you today.”

He scowled. “Hardly the best side, either.” Josh sucked in a deep breath. “I’m sorry that came out that way.”

“Don’t be. What’s going on with her, anyway?” She cut him a look. “Did you split up with her because of me?”

He winced. “Partly.”

“Why does that feel like there’s a bigger story going on?”

“Maybe because there is. We were seeing one another for a few months, then I forgot about her.”

She blinked at him. “You forgot about her?”

“Yes. Well, she wasn’t exactly a girlfriend, more like a—”

“Oh my goodness. She was your mistress?” For a second, he watched astonishment wave over her features, then she burst out laughing. “What on Earth? Men really have those? I thought it was a joke or something.”

“Well, yes. We have them. They usually know the score.”

“The implication being Jasmine didn’t?” She scowled. “Wait a minute, you don’t expect me to be a mistress, do you?”

He snorted. “No.”

“Why not?” she eyed him suspiciously.

“Because if Jasmine had made me feel the way you did, I wouldn’t have done anything with you that day.” He cocked a brow. “I’m usually monogamous.”

“That surprises me.”

“More than the fact I had a mistress?”

“Only recently past tense, however,” she teased, surprising him. He’d expected her to make his life a little miserable. She wasn’t though. Just seemed to find this situation amusing.

She tapped her chin with her finger. “So, what? She’s jealous of me then?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t expect to see her here tonight.”

“Otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation, I suppose?”

He grimaced. “Astute.”

“Hardly. You’re a man after all. You are very predictable sometimes.”

“Thanks. You’re full of compliments today, aren’t you?”

“I don’t have to be charming. That’s something the man has to handle. I just have to smile prettily at you, make sure I don’t get something stuck in my teeth, and look good on your arm.” Her lips twitched. “That’s what a mistress does, isn’t it?”

“Mostly,” he said tightly, then blowing out a breath, murmured, “I don’t… this isn’t about your becoming my mistress though.”

“Oh, I know,” she told him, her voice in utter contrast to his—so chirpy and cheerful he wanted to scowl. “I’d walk out of here right now if I thought you were even hinting that things would take that direction.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “How did I not know you were this playful?”

She gaped at him. “Huh?”

“You’re a joker. You like teasing. I didn’t realize that.”

“Because I’m not like that.”

“I think you’ll find you are,” he said drily, finishing off his flute of champagne with a flourish and quickly grabbing another from a passing waiter. “Trust me, I’m feeling mocked.”

She sniggered. “Well, you must bring it out in me.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing,” he admitted wryly, staring down at his flute. A sense of humor had never been all that requisite with his past dates. They’d literally fulfilled the roles she’d mocked him over mere moments before.

Why he was so robotic with the opposite sex, he really couldn’t say. But then, there was a lot he didn’t have the answer to, and he’d never been into self-psychoanalysis.

Undoubtedly, it was a mommy issue he had. They always blamed the mother, didn’t they? And if the father was absent, as his had been for a long time, then that was thrown into the mix too.

Clearing his throat, he murmured, “I’m surprised she managed to get an invitation so late.”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, it does.”

“Why?” Samantha cocked a brow at him, flooding the space between them with curiosity. And, truth was, he didn’t want any space between them.

Not even their clothes.

His jaw tightened at the idea of having that sultry form wriggling all over him as he mumbled, “If she’s here to make mischief, then I’d prefer to know about it sooner rather than later.”

Samantha nodded, took a sip of her champagne. “That makes sense,” she confessed. “Why would she want to make mischief?”

“I don’t know. I gave her a parting gift. Some can be happy with that, others want more.”

“What? A wedding ring?”

He snorted. “They know the score when they get into anything with me.”

“They do, huh?” She eyed him a second, and he knew she was judging him on his words.

Wanting to smack himself, and wondering where his renowned icy nature was hiding today, he sighed. “I wish I could start this evening over.”

“Why? I’ve found it rather illuminating.”

“I can believe it. I’ve made a real dick out of myself. I’m just…”

“Just what?”

“On edge, I guess.”

She frowned. “Why?”

He wafted a hand between them. “I’m surprised.”

“That you have feelings for me?”

His nod was slow. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“Because of Jamie.” It wasn’t a question. More like a blanket statement, and he saw the tightening in her eyes that spoke of remembered pain—gosh, he’d do anything in his power to make that go away.

But that was the problem.

It was out of his control, and he hated that.

“It’s to do with a lot of things. Some of it’s Jamie, some of it’s Erin. Some of it’s you and most of it’s just me. This is unusual for me,” he confessed softly. “I don’t do things like this.”

“I can tell. You really need to work on your charm.”

He sighed. “Thanks.”

“No worries,” she told him, cheerful again. “But, you’re pretty cute when you’re admitting to a failing, and I get the feeling you don’t admit to them often so I should take advantage of having a front row seat to the party.”

Despite himself, and despite the fact she’d made him the butt of her joke, he had to laugh. “I’d take full advantage of it,” he told her. “It doesn’t happen often. I can’t afford for it to.”

“Is it a good or bad thing that I’m making you feel this way?”

“That you’re making me feel anything at all is unnerving,” he said softly, and she froze at his side.

When she peered up at him, batting those big eyes of hers his way, he felt his heart plummet.

Why did she have this much power over him when she’d never had it before?

Why had they exploded into action that day in Frank and Janice’s building?

Where had that come from? All that passion, newly triggered, and just needing to be burned off before they combusted from the sheer magnitude of the power springing to life between them?

It was beyond confusing and for a man who was rarely confused when it came down to his interactions with women, he felt like a dunce.

“Unnerving… that doesn’t sound wholly good or wholly bad.”

“It’s neither, I guess. I’m just reeling. I never expected any of this.”

“Doesn’t that mean we shouldn’t trust it?”

“Potentially,” he admitted. “But that’s what happened on the day… I pulled away because I didn’t trust what you made me feel. I needed to regroup. Then, you didn’t contact me. For three full weeks, Samantha. That changed things.”

She snorted. “Because I wasn’t willing to stroke your ego and other things, you sulked?”

“No. It just really gave me time to think. To think about you.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

He growled. “Why aren’t you taking this seriously?”

She fell silent as she reached for her glass. “What’s to take serious? This is a phase, Josh. I knocked you off your feet when I told you what Jamie was really like, and you’ve been unsteady ever since. You’ve gone above and beyond for me. I know that. I also truly appreciate it. But at the same time, I don’t want your pity.”

Josh scowled. “You think this is about pity? Dammit, Samantha! It has nothing to do with pity. Nothing at all!”

She flinched. “It seems like it to me.”

“How can this be about pity?” He grabbed her and hauled her against him; even though he knew it was a dick move to use his strength against her. When their bodies collided, it was as natural as breathing for her to settle into him—she relaxed, didn’t tense up and try to pull away.

She fucking molded herself to him.

Moving against him in such a way he felt certain, and the thought fucking petrified him, that she’d been made for him.

He nearly choked at the thought, but the choke turned into a low groan when she arched her hips and used the angle to tilt back and look up at him.

“That wasn’t fair,” she said on a whisper, her words low and unsteady, her eyes like midnight pools he wanted to dive headfirst into.

“None of this is fair. Neither of us are ready for anything like this.”

She swallowed thickly, nodded slightly. “You’re right. We’re not.”

Because she sounded so final, her words frightened him. He tightened his grip about her and demanded, “You can’t deny that we have something together, Samantha. You can’t deny what we make each other feel.”

Her smile was shaky as she lifted a hand and pressed it to his chin. “I’m not denying anything.”

He blinked.

She wasn’t?

Music in the background suddenly started up, and she tensed then softened against him as she whispered, “Dance with me?”

He almost flinched—he didn’t dance. But she was so soft in his arms, so pliant and molded to him that it would be half-pleasure, half-torture to have her moving against him as they danced to the soft, innocuous jazz.

He kept her tightly pressed to him as he began to move, feeling a little stiff and awkward for not having done this since the horrendous classes his mother had had him endure as a child. But with her in his arms, everything was different.

Nothing was the same.

Not the dance, not the night. Not even breathing.

With her in his arms….

He closed his eyes, his own thoughts overwhelming him. They were like a lightning bolt through the sky, one that hit him square in the solar plexus and that made him feel alive for the first time in a lifetime.

He didn’t understand it.

Wasn’t sure if something like this could be understood.

He’d avoided it and her, pulled away, freed himself from the clinging vines of what she made him feel… but now? Now she was here with him? This coup de foudre as the French called it, it slammed him to the ground and destroyed all his defenses.

“Please, don’t pull away,” he murmured as they swayed in each other’s arms, their bodies brushing in a perfect tangent. “I know it’s frightening, and I know it’s crazy, but let’s just…” He licked his lips, unsure of how to calm her down, to reassure her.

“Breathe.”

The word came from her, and as she didn’t tense up or pull away, he figured that had to be a good sign.

“Yeah,” he admitted softly. “Let’s just breathe. We can do this. We can handle this. It’s not a bad thing.”

“Isn’t it? I’m hardly ready for anything of this nature, Josh,” she whispered softly. “You know that.”

“No. I know you’re still coming down from what he did to you, but that’s your past and present. I want to be your future.”

She pulled back, but not to move away. He had to fight himself not to band his arms around her hips and to hold her close. Instead, she stared up at him and whispered, “How can you say that? You’ve just told me that your mistress is here. She wasn’t your first. Neither will she be your last. How can I be your future when you’re the kind of guy who has a mistress?” She paused. “I don’t fit in with that kind of thing, Josh. Jamie was many things but I knew he wasn’t a cheater.” She rolled her eyes. “I used to wish he was, but he was too obsessed with me for me to have to think about anything like that. And I’m used to that, I guess. He had many undesirable traits,” she murmured carefully, grimacing as she peered around them. “Many,” she reiterated, “but that was actually a good one. I don’t want that kind of lifestyle, Josh. I really don’t.”

“Why do you think I got rid of Jasmine, Samantha?” he asked her, his tone urgent.

“I don’t know,” she admitted on a sigh, a sigh so deep she almost went limp in his arms as she sank into him.

He felt every inch of her press against him, and knew that she was made to be there—how he knew, he didn’t fucking care. It was as obvious to him as his hair color or the fact the ability to make billions was in his genes.

“If I wanted that, I could have kept her. I didn’t have to tell you about her.”

“Good luck with that when she’s across the room glowering at us,” she mumbled against his shirt.

He turned to seek out his ex-lover and did, indeed, find her glowering at them. He narrowed his eyes at her, waiting her out, refusing to blink until she moved her head and shifted focus from them.

“I could have told you she was an angry ex. I didn’t have to tell you the truth of our relationship, did I?”

“No,” she conceded. “You were brutally honest, that’s for sure.”

Though he winced, he inserted quickly, “I don’t want to lie to you.”

“Good. That’s a fabulous start.”

Her wry tone put him on edge. Why? He wasn’t entirely sure.

Then, it came to him.

He was so used to everyone being serious with him, everyone listening to his next breath like it was scripture, never mind his words. Everyone wanted a piece of him. They wanted advice, wanted to pepper him for news on the stocks—which to buy and which to dump. They wanted everything he had to give.

But she wasn’t like that.

Shit, when had he become such a self-important dick? When had he started to believe his own press?

Letting out a shaky breath as this revelation came at the same time as he thought he was fighting for his life with Samantha, he murmured, “I didn’t have to tell you about Jasmine, did I? I could have bypassed it entirely. Instead, I was honest with you. To my detriment because now you think I’m one way when I’m not.”

She rubbed her forehead against his chest. “I’m not ready for this.”

“You think you’re not ready.” He could feel her tense, but he pressed a kiss to the top of her crown to soothe her. “I’m not whitewashing your words, I’m just trying to explain. You think you’re not ready, but you’ll never be ready. I know the situation, and I’m not trying to push you into anything too quickly. If anything, I’m asking you to think about starting something with me. This, what we have together, it blows my mind, Samantha. I’m trying to figure out why it doesn’t blow yours.”

“Of course it does,” she whispered thickly. “How can you say that? Josh, I’ve slept with two men in my life. My husband and you now. I don’t sleep around lightly.”

“Then what happened that day?”

“I don’t know what or why, I just know that it did.” She frowned at him. “I see no point in questioning it when it’s already done.”

“No, I don’t either, so why are we questioning why it happened when it already did, and we both know how we made each other feel.”

She sighed. “Because good sex doesn’t mean everything.”

“Doesn’t it?” he asked wryly.

“No.” She prodded him with her finger, and the gesture was so playful, so unlike her, something in him settled. “You know it doesn’t. Just because we’re good in that sense, doesn’t mean we’d be good elsewhere.”

“No, I agree. So how about we open ourselves up to the possibility that we could be great together outside of hallways?”

She winced. “I’ve never done anything like that before in my life.”

“Me neither,” he said drily.

“I call BS. No way. You must have had crazy college days.”

“I guess, but I was always scared of getting caught. I wasn’t thinking that day when we were together,” he admitted softly, once again brushing his lips over the top of her head. “I was just feeling. I want to try that again. I’ve never lived like that before.”

She tensed a little in his arms before she exhaled deeply and admitted, “Life’s funny sometimes, isn’t it?”

“In what way?”

“We’ve spent all these years disliking each other. All these years pretty much avoiding one another, and now? Now we’re totally trying to change the goalposts.”

He shrugged. “Jamie made sure we didn’t like one another.”

Her forehead pressed into his chest. “He did that.”

“I’m sorry I believed him.”

“Don’t you believe him now?”

He stiffened. “How can you ask me that?”

She looked at him, shaking her head. “I didn’t mean that how you’ve taken it. I mean, he might have told you things that were true. It didn’t have to be all lies. Sometimes, I do leave makeup towelettes on the side of the sink, and my shoes are never ordered right. They’re always in a jumble at the bottom of my closet.”

“Those two confessions hardly make you a Nazi,” he told her on a laugh.

She wrinkled her nose at him. “I know. But you can figure out what I mean, Sherlock.”

“Yeah. And I’m sure there’s irritating shit I do too. But, let’s face it, we all have our quirks and habits. They’re what make us who we are. And you don’t start anything with someone thinking that those quirks and habits are going to make you split up ten years down the line.”

“No,” she conceded with a quick smile. “I’m overthinking this, aren’t I?”

“Just a little.” His lips twitched. “But I understand.”

“You do?” When she peeked up at him like that, he felt like his knees had just been kicked out from under him.

There was trust and hope, fear and worry, a whole gamut of emotions that both floored him as well as petrifying him.

He shouldn’t want her to look at him that way. Shouldn’t want her to feel this good in his arms, but she was and she did. And he did want. A lot. Everything.

Swallowing thickly, he turned her slightly so they were facing away from the dance floor where a few dozen couples had merged together into some-good and some-terrible slow dances. Not that he could judge. He had two fucking left feet.

Still, with a bit more privacy, he murmured, “Just try. For me.”

She let out a deep breath. “My pace?”

“Your pace.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

He smiled, relieved to his core that she’d agreed to… what?

Hell, what had he even been asking for?

He wasn’t sure, not really, just knew that he wanted more. That he wanted more of her, more time with her… time to figure out what they were feeling, time to see if this was as real as his terrifying emotions for her indicated.

Still, he didn’t say any of that. Just hugged her tighter into his arms and danced.

“Well, I didn’t expect to see you here tonight after you canceled, Joshua.”

Jasmine’s voice grated on his ears, but he was surprised to note that Samantha didn’t stiffen in his arms. What that meant, he wasn’t sure.

“I canceled on you, not on the event, Jasmine,” he told her coldly as he stopped dancing, and tucked his arm around Samantha’s waist. Hauling her close, he couldn’t have made it more obvious who he was with, and that they were definitely an item.

Jasmine narrowed her eyes, her dewy skin turning pale at the cold fire in his eyes. Still, the foolish bitch jerked her chin up with a self-righteous glower at him, and demanded, “You didn’t even have the decency to call me back.”

“We didn’t have that kind of arrangement,” he told her, polite now. “You and I both know that. We saw each other a handful of times…”

“And I spoke with your PA more than I did with you.” Jasmine’s words were bitter, and with Samantha so close, he found it in himself to feel guilty.

What must she think of him?

Still, she didn’t tense up as he’d feared, merely murmured, “Darling, don’t be a mistress, then, you’ll get more calls than booty calls.”

Jasmine’s eyes flared. “And what are you if not his mistress?”

Samantha’s smile was pure feline as she raised a hand and flickered her fingers. “Why, I’m his fiancée.”

Jasmine’s mouth dropped open. “His fiancée? You were seeing her while you were seeing me?”

“I saw you a handful of times,” he reiterated, not wanting Samantha to think otherwise. “And that was before Samantha and I even started seeing each other in this way.”

“Well, you’re a fool if you think you can change him. You’re a fool if you think he’s the marrying kind!” She gritted her teeth. “He’ll just use you and then discard you when you’re done.”

“Yes, very naughty of him, isn’t it? But then, dear, you should try not to be so disposable.”

For a second, Josh wasn’t sure what he’d heard, and he knew Jasmine was as perplexed too. She let out a shriek of outrage then stormed off, her stilettos clacking as she steamed ahead without looking back.

Samantha let out a deep sigh. “That was wicked of me.”

He coughed. “Perhaps. But it got rid of her.”

She peered up at him, her brow cocked. “I won’t let you treat me like that. You do know that, don’t you?”

His eyes were serious as he stared deeply into hers. “You’re night to her day.”

She pursed her lips. “Now he decides to be charming,” Samantha grumbled, and somehow, he knew they’d be okay.