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The Consequence Of His Vengeance
JENNIE LUCAS


His goal: entice, seduce, reject.Ten years ago, with her father arrested for fraud, Letty Spencer became the most hated ex-socialite in Manhattan, forced to push away the only man she’s ever loved. Now, Darius Kyrillos is no longer the poor chauffeur’s son and he’s come back to claim her!Instead of slaking his thirst for vengeance, Darius was consumed by insatiable need the moment his lips touched Letty’s again. But he couldn’t have foreseen the consequence of his actions – soon he’ll be a father. Letty rejected him once, Darius won’t allow her to do so again!When one night… leads to pregnancy!







His goal: entice, seduce, reject

Ten years ago, with her father arrested for fraud, Letty Spencer became the most hated ex-socialite in Manhattan, forced to push away the only man she’s ever loved. Now Darius Kyrillos is no longer just the poor chauffeur’s son and he’s come back to claim her!

Instead of slaking his thirst for vengeance, Darius was consumed by insatiable need the moment his lips touched Letty’s again. But he couldn’t have foreseen the consequence of his actions—soon he’ll be a father. Letty rejected him once; Darius won’t allow her to do so again!


Opening the door, Letty gasped.

Darius stood in her doorway, dressed in a black button-down shirt with well-cut jeans that showed the rugged lines of his powerful body. It was barely noon, but his jaw was dark with a five o’clock shadow.

For a moment, even hating and fearing him as she did, Letty was dazzled by that ruthless masculine beauty.

“Letty,” he greeted her coldly. Then his eyes dropped to her baby bump.

With an intake of breath, Letty tried to shut the door in his face.

He blocked her with his powerful shoulder and pushed his way into her apartment.

“So it’s true,” he said in a low voice. “You’re pregnant.”

She looked frozen. Then she squared her shoulders, tossing her dark ponytail in a futile gesture of bravado. “So?”

“Is the baby mine?”

“Yours?” Her eyes shot sparks of fire, even though she had dark shadows beneath, as if she hadn’t been sleeping well. “What makes you think the baby’s yours? Maybe I slept with ten men since our night. Maybe I slept with a hundred—”

“You’re lying.”


One Night With Consequences (#ulink_6383136d-01e3-5d6d-98ba-818264ad93ed)

When one night...leads to pregnancy!

When succumbing to a night of unbridled desire it’s impossible to think past the morning after!

But, with the sheets barely settled, that little blue line appears on the pregnancy test and it doesn’t take long to realise that one night of white-hot passion has turned into a lifetime of consequences!

Only one question remains:

How do you tell a man you’ve just met that you’re about to share more than just his bed?

Find out in:

The Shock Cassano Baby by Andie Brock

The Greek’s Nine-Month Redemption by Maisey Yates

An Heir to Make A Marriage by Abby Green

Crowned for the Prince’s Heir by Sharon Kendrick

The Sheikh’s Baby Scandal by Carol Marinelli

A Ring for Vincenzo’s Heir by Jennie Lucas

Claiming His Christmas Consequence by Michelle Smart

The Guardian’s Virgin Ward by Caitlin Crews

A Child Claimed by Gold by Rachael Thomas

Look for more One Night With Consequences coming soon!


The Consequence of His Vengeance

Jennie Lucas






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


USA TODAY bestselling author JENNIE LUCAS’s parents owned a bookstore and she grew up surrounded by books, dreaming about faraway lands. A fourth-generation Westerner, she went east at sixteen to boarding school on scholarship, wandered the world, got married, then finally worked her way through college before happily returning to her hometown. A 2010 RITA® Award finalist and 2005 Golden Heart® Award winner, she lives in Idaho with her husband and children.

Books by Jennie Lucas

Mills & Boon Modern Romance

Uncovering Her Nine Month Secret

The Sheikh’s Last Seduction

To Love, Honor and Betray

A Night of Living Dangerously

The Virgin’s Choice

Bought: The Greek’s Baby

Wedlocked!

Baby of His Revenge

One Night With Consequences

A Ring for Vincenzo’s Heir

Nine Months to Redeem Him

At His Service

The Consequences of That Night

Princes Untamed

Dealing Her Final Card

A Reputation for Revenge

One Night In...

Reckless Night in Rio

Visit the Author Profile page at

millsandboon.co.uk (http://millsandboon.co.uk/) for more titles.


To Pippa Roscoe, with best wishes for a brilliant future.

You are going to rock it!


Contents

Cover (#u59dbe382-e069-5de7-ae38-4a8afd1fdc72)

Back Cover Text (#uccf876a4-eed1-52fc-aa5e-6b38ecdf185c)

Introduction (#ub35458de-8ec8-5239-97fd-ff7d833c1fd1)

One Night With Consequences (#ulink_cd6bd606-d676-5402-88ec-1572b0b9dd95)

Title Page (#ud0de6c18-5e24-594f-a2cd-daa894775179)

About the Author (#u6aabd84e-5b54-5c65-bab7-9d1613c12bfa)

Dedication (#u341ddaa6-ce13-5e72-9428-3233139558c1)

CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_958c1f76-f59f-58a1-8daf-8897426d6b6f)

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_398de1c9-dc0f-522c-9631-01c3bd0bbc27)

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_1db13312-c7e8-50c8-90db-762caa1a5184)

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_1ddf1af4-8091-5377-a65a-adf09a763357)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_166434c7-91a3-58bc-b8c8-84024eb2e9c8)

LETTY SPENCER HUNCHED her shoulders against the frosty February night as she pushed out of the Brooklyn diner, door swinging behind her. Her body was exhausted after her double shift, but not half as weary as her heart.

It had not been a good day.

Shivering in her threadbare coat, Letty lowered her head against the biting wind on the dark street. Snow flurries brushed against her exposed skin.

“Letitia.” The voice was low and husky behind her. Letty’s back snapped straight.

No one called her Letitia anymore, not even her father. Letitia Spencer had been the pampered heiress of Fairholme. Letty was just another New York waitress struggling to make ends meet for her family.

And that voice sounded like...

He sounded like...

Gripping her purse strap tight, she slowly turned around.

And lost her breath.

Darius Kyrillos stood against a glossy black sports car parked on the street. Dark-haired and dark-eyed, he was devastatingly handsome and powerful in his well-cut suit and black wool coat, standing beneath the softly falling snowflakes illuminated by a streetlight.

For a moment, Letty struggled to make sense of what her eyes were telling her. Darius? Here?

“Did you see this?” her father had said excitedly that morning, spreading the newspaper across their tiny kitchen counter. “Darius Kyrillos sold his company for twenty billion dollars!” He looked up, his eyes unfocused with painkillers, his recently broken arm awkward in a sling. “You should call him, Letty. Make him love you again.”

After ten years, her father had said Darius’s name out loud. He’d broken the unspoken rule. She’d fled, mumbling that she’d be late for work.

But it had affected her all day, making her clumsily drop trays and forget orders. She’d even dumped a plate of eggs and bacon on a customer. It was a miracle she hadn’t been fired.

No, Letty thought, unable to breathe. This was the miracle. Right now.

Darius.

She took a step toward him on the sidewalk, her eyes wide.

“Darius?” she whispered. “Is it really you?”

He came forward like a dark angel. She could see his breath beneath the streetlight like white smoke in the icy night. He stopped, towering over her. The light frosted his dark hair, leaving his face in shadow. She half expected him to disappear if she tried to touch him. So she didn’t.

Then he touched her.

Reaching out, he stroked a dark tendril that had escaped her ponytail, twisted it around his finger. “You’re surprised?”

At the sound of that low, husky voice, lightly accented from his early childhood in Greece, a deep shiver sent a rush of prickles over her skin. And she knew he wasn’t a dream.

Her heart pounded. Darius. The man she’d tried not to crave for the last decade. The man she’d dreamed about against her will, night after night. Here. Now. She choked out a sob. “What are you doing here?”

His dark eyes ran over her hungrily. “I couldn’t resist.”

As he moved his head, the streetlight illuminated his face. He hadn’t changed at all, Letty thought in wonder. The same years that had nearly destroyed her hadn’t touched him. He was the same man she remembered, the one she’d once loved with all her innocent heart, back when she’d been a headstrong eighteen-year-old, caught up in a forbidden love affair. Before she’d sacrificed her own happiness to save his.

His hand moved down to her shoulder. Feeling his warmth through her thin coat, she wanted to cry, to ask him what had taken so long. She’d almost given up hope.

Then she saw his gaze linger on her old coat, with its broken zipper, and her diner uniform, a white dress that had been bleached so many times it was starting to fray. Usually, she also wore unfashionable nylons to keep her legs warm while she was on her feet all day in white orthopedic shoes. But today, her last pair had been unwearable with too many rips, so her legs were bare.

Following his gaze, she blushed. “I’m not really dressed for going out...”

“Your clothes don’t matter.” There was a strange undercurrent in his voice. “Let’s go.”

“Go? Where?”

He took her hand in his own, palm to palm, and she suddenly didn’t feel the snowflakes or cold. Waves of electricity scattered helter-skelter across her body, across her skin, from her scalp to her toes.

“My penthouse. In Midtown.” He looked down at her. “Will you come?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

His sensual lips curved oddly before he led her to his shiny, low-slung sports car and opened the passenger door.

As Letty climbed in, she took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of rich leather. This car likely cost more than she’d earned the past decade waiting tables. She moved her hand along the fine calfskin, the color of pale cream. She’d forgotten leather could be so soft.

Climbing in beside her, Darius started the engine. The car roared away from the curb, humming through the night, leaving her neighborhood to travel through the gentrified areas of Park Slope and Brooklyn Heights before finally crossing the Manhattan Bridge into the New York borough that most catered to tourists and the wealthy: Manhattan.

All the while, Letty was intensely aware of him beside her. Her gaze fell upon his hand and thick wrist, laced with dark hair, as he changed gears.

“So.” His voice was ironic. “Your father is out of prison.”

Biting her lip, she looked at him hesitantly beneath her lashes. “A few days ago.”

Darius glanced back at her old coat and fraying uniform. “And now you’re ready to change your life.”

Was that a question or a suggestion? Did he mean that he wanted to change it? Had he actually learned the truth about why she’d betrayed him ten years ago?

“I’ve learned the hard way,” she said in a low voice, “that life changes, whether you’re ready or not.”

His hands tightened as he turned back to the steering wheel. “True.”

Letty’s eyes lingered on his profile, from the dark slash of eyebrows to his aquiline nose and full, sensual mouth. She still felt like she was dreaming. Darius Kyrillos. After all these years, he’d found her at the diner and was whisking her off to his penthouse. The only man she’d ever truly loved...

“Why did you come for me?” she whispered. “Why today, after all these years?”

His dark gaze was veiled. “Your message.”

She hadn’t sent any message. “What message?”

“Fine,” he murmured, baring his teeth in a smile. “Have it your way.”

Message? Letty felt a skitter of dark suspicion. Her father had wanted her to contact Darius. For the last few days, since he’d broken his arm in mysterious circumstances he wouldn’t explain, he’d been home on painkillers, sitting next to her ancient computer with nothing to do.

Could her father have sent Darius a message, pretending to be her?

She glanced at Darius, then decided she didn’t care. If her father had interfered, all she could be was grateful, if this was the result.

Her father must have revealed her real reasons for betraying Darius ten years ago. She couldn’t imagine he would even be talking to her now otherwise.

But how to know for sure?

Biting her lip, she said awkwardly, “I read about you in the paper this morning. That you sold. Your company, I mean.”

“Ah.” His jaw set as he turned away. “Right.”

His voice was cold. No wonder, Letty thought. She sounded like an idiot. She tried to steady herself. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you. It cost ten years of my life.”

Ten years. Those two simple words hung between them in silence, like a small raft on an ocean of regret.

Their car entered Manhattan, with all its wealth and savagery. A place she’d avoided since her father’s trial and sentencing almost a decade before.

Her heartbeat fluttered in her throat as she looked down at her chapped hands, folded tightly in her lap. “I’ve thought of you a lot, wondering how you were. Hoping you were well. Hoping you were happy.”

Stopping at a red light, Darius abruptly looked at her.

“It was good of you to think of me,” he drawled in a low voice, once again with that strange undercurrent. In the cold night of the city, headlights of passing cars moved shadows across the hard lines of his face.

The light changed to green. It was just past ten o’clock, and the traffic was starting to lessen. Heading north on First Avenue, they passed the United Nations plaza. The buildings had started climbing higher against the sky as they approached Midtown. Turning off Forty-Ninth onto the gracious width of Park Avenue, they approached a newly built glass-and-steel skyscraper on the south side of Central Park.

As he pulled his car into the porte cochere, she was craning her neck back in astonishment. “You live here?”

“I have the top two floors,” he said casually, in the way someone might say, I have tickets to the ballet.

His door opened, and he handed the keys to a smiling valet who greeted him respectfully by name. Coming around, Darius opened Letty’s door. He held out his hand.

She stared at it nervously, then put her hand in his.

He wrapped it tightly in his own. She felt the warmth and roughness of his palm against hers.

He had to know, she thought desperately. He had to. Otherwise, why would he have sought her out? Why wouldn’t he still hate her?

He led her through the awe-inspiring lobby, with its minimalist furniture and twenty-foot ceilings.

“Good evening, Mr. Kyrillos,” the man at the desk said. “Cold weather we’re having. Hope you’re staying warm!”

Darius held Letty’s hand tightly. She felt like she might catch flame as he drew her across the elegant, cavernous lobby. “I am. Thank you, Perry.”

He waved his key fob in front of the elevator’s wall panel and pressed the seventieth floor.

His hand gripped hers as the elevator traveled up. She felt the warmth of his body next to hers, just inches away, towering over her. She bit her lip, unable to look at him. She just stared at the electronic numbers displaying the floors as the elevator rose higher and higher. Sixty-eight, sixty-nine, seventy...

The bell dinged as the door slid open.

“After you,” Darius said.

Glancing at him nervously, she stepped out directly into a dark, high-ceilinged penthouse. He followed her, as the elevator door closed silently behind them.

The rubber soles of her white shoes squeaked against the marble floor as she walked through the foyer beneath the modern crystal chandelier above. She flinched at the noise, embarrassed.

But his handsome face held no expression as he removed his long black overcoat. He didn’t turn on any lights. He never looked away from her.

With a gulp, she turned away.

Gripping her purse strap, she walked forward into the shadowy main room. It was two stories high, with sparse, angular furniture in black and gray, and floor-to-ceiling windows twisted around the penthouse in every direction.

Looking from right to left, she could see the dark vista of Central Park, the high-rise buildings to the Hudson River, and the lights of New Jersey beyond it, and to the south, the skyscrapers of Midtown, including the Empire State Building, all the way to the Financial District and the gleaming One World Trade Center.

The sparkling nighttime view provided the only light in the penthouse, aside from a single blue gas fire that flickered in the stark fireplace.

“Incredible,” Letty breathed, going up to the windows. Without thinking, she leaned forward, putting her overheated forehead against the cool glass, looking down at Park Avenue far below. The cars and yellow cabs looked tiny, like ants. She felt almost dizzy from being so high off the earth, up in the clouds. It was a little terrifying. “Beautiful.”

His reply was husky behind her. “You are beautiful, Letitia.”

Turning, she looked at him in the soft blue glow of firelight. Then, as she looked more closely...

Her lips parted with an intake of breath.

She’d thought Darius hadn’t changed?

He’d changed completely.

At thirty-four, he was no longer a slender youth, but a powerful man. His shoulders had broadened to match his tall height, his body filling out with hard muscle. His dark hair had once been wavy and tousled, like a poet’s, but was now cut short, as severe as his chiseled jawline.

Everything about Darius was tightly controlled now, from the cut of his expensive clothes—a black shirt with the top button undone, black trousers, black leather shoes—to his powerful stance. His mouth had once been expressive and tender and kind. Now his lips had a hard twist of arrogance, even cruelty.

He towered over her like a king, in his penthouse with all of New York City at his feet.

At her expression, his jaw tightened. “Letitia...”

“Letty.” She managed a smile. “No one calls me Letitia anymore.”

“I have never been able to forget you,” he continued in a low voice. “Or that summer we were together...”

That summer. A small noise came from the back of her throat as unwanted memories filled her mind. Dancing in the meadow. Kissing the night after her debutante ball. Escaping the prying eyes of servants in Fairholme’s enormous garage, steaming up the windows of her father’s vintage car collection for weeks on end. She’d been ready to surrender everything.

Darius was the one who’d wanted to wait for marriage to consummate their love.

“Not until you’re my wife,” he’d whispered as they strained for each other, barely clothed, panting with need in the backseat of a vintage limousine. “Not until you’re mine forever.”

Forever never came. Their romance had been illicit, forbidden. She was barely eighteen, his boss’s daughter; he was six years older, the chauffeur’s son.

After a hot summer of innocent passion, her father had been infuriated when he’d discovered their romance. He’d ordered Darius off the estate. For one awful week he and Letty had been apart. Then Darius had called her.

“Let’s elope,” he’d said. “I’ll get a day job to support us. We’ll get a studio apartment in the city. Anything as long as we’re together.”

She’d feared it would hurt his dream of making his fortune, but she couldn’t resist. They both knew there was no chance of a real wedding, not when her father would try to stop the marriage. So they’d planned to elope to Niagara Falls.

But on the night his car waited outside the Fairholme gate, Letty never showed up.

She hadn’t returned any of his increasingly frantic phone calls. The next day, she’d even convinced her father to fire Eugenios Kyrillos, Darius’s father, who’d been their chauffeur for twenty years.

Even then, Darius had refused to accept their breakup. He’d kept calling, until she’d sent him a single cold message.

I was only using you to get another man’s attention. He’s rich and can give me the life of luxury I deserve. We’re engaged now. Did you really think that someone like me would ever live in a studio apartment with someone like you?

That had done the trick.

But it had been a lie. There had been no other man. At the ripe old age of twenty-eight, Letty was still a virgin.

All these years, she’d promised herself that Darius would never know the truth. He could never know how she’d sacrificed herself, so he’d be able to follow his dreams without guilt or fear. Even if it meant he hated her.

But Darius must have finally found out the truth. It was the only explanation for him seeking her out.

“So you know why I betrayed you ten years ago?” she said in a small voice, unable to meet his eyes. “You forgive me?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said roughly. “You’re here now.”

Her heart pounded as she saw the dark hunger in his eyes.

She looked down at the coffee stain on her uniform, the smear of ketchup near the cheerful name tag still on her left breast: LETTY! She whispered, “You can’t still...want me?”

“You’re wrong.” He pulled her handbag off her shoulder. It felt unspeakably erotic. He pulled off her coat, dropping it to the marble floor. “I wanted you then.” Cupping her face with both hands, he whispered, “I want you now.”

Electricity ran up and down her body. Involuntarily, she licked her lips.

His gaze fell to her mouth.

Tangling his hands in her hair, he pulled out her ponytail, and her long dark hair tumbled down her shoulders. He stroked down her cheek, tilting back her head.

He was so much taller. He towered over her in every way.

She felt crazy butterflies, like she’d gone back in time and was eighteen again. Being with him now, all the anguish and grief and weariness of the last ten years seemed to disappear like a bad dream.

“I’ve missed you for so long,” she choked out. “You’re all I’ve dreamed about...”

He pressed a finger to her lips. At the contact, fire flashed from her mouth and down to her breasts. Sparks crackled between them in the shadowy penthouse, as she breathed in his woodsy, musky scent. Tension coiled low and deep in her belly.

Pulling her body tight against his own, he lowered his mouth to hers.

His kiss was hot and demanding. The stubble on his rough jawline scratched her delicate skin as he gripped her hard against him. She kissed him back with desperate need.

A low growl came from the back of his throat, and he pushed her back against the wall. His hands ran down her body to rip apart the front buttons of her white dress. She gasped as her naked skin was exposed, along with her plain white bra and panties.

“Take this off,” he whispered, and he pulled her white dress off her body, dropping it to the floor. Kneeling in front of her, he pulled off her white shoes, one by one. She was nearly naked, standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that revealed the whole city.

Rising to his full height, he kissed her. His mouth plundered hers, searing her to the core. She realized her hands were unbuttoning his black shirt to feel the warmth of his skin, the hard muscles of his body. She stroked his chest, dusted with dark hair, and trembled. He felt like steel wrapped in satin, hard and soft.

She desperately wanted to feel him against her, all of him. She wanted to be lost in him—

As he kissed her, his hands roamed over her shoulders, her hips, her breasts. Her fingers twisted in his hair. She felt dizzy with longing as he pressed her against the wall, kissing her with savage desire, nipping at her lips until they bruised.

He kissed down her throat, reaching beneath the white cotton fabric of her bra to cup her bare breasts. She felt his rough warm hands against her naked skin, and her taut nipples ached, until with a low curse he reached around and unhooked the clasp of her bra.

She heard his intake of breath as it fell to the floor. She now wore only panties, while he was still fully dressed, with his black shirt unbuttoned to reveal his bare chest. As he lowered his head, taking her exposed breasts fully in his hands, her head fell back, hair tumbling down, as she gripped his bare, muscular shoulders.

She gasped as she felt the wet heat of his mouth envelop a taut nipple. Lightning shot down her body as he suckled her in his stark, shadowy penthouse, with its spectacular view of nighttime New York at their feet. She moaned softly.

Abruptly, he pulled away. She opened her eyes, feeling dizzy. Her lips parted to ask a question, but before she could remember it, he lifted her into his arms.

She didn’t try to resist as he carried her through the great room into an enormous bedroom in the opposite corner. That, too, had windows on both sides, twenty feet high. She could see all of Midtown, from the Chrysler Building to the Empire State, a forest of skyscrapers between two dark rivers with their bright, moving barges.

Manhattan sparkled coldly in the dark night as Darius spread her across his bed, his expression half shadowed. He undid his cuffs and dropped his shirt to the floor.

For the first time, Letty saw the full strength of his hard-muscled torso and powerful arms. His shoulders were broad, narrowing to tight, hard abs. Removing his belt, he kicked off his shoes. Wearing just low-slung black tailored trousers, he climbed onto the bed.

Lowering his head, he kissed her against the pillows, his lips hard and rough. She felt his desire for her; she felt his heavy weight over her. Darius wanted her... He cared...

Something broke, deep inside her heart.

All this time, Letty had thought their love had ended forever. But nothing had changed, she thought in wonder, tangling her hands in his dark hair. Nothing. They were the same two people, still young and in love...

He slowly kissed his way down her body, his hands stroking her. She quivered, helpless beneath his touch. He dropped kisses here and there as he traversed the softness of her belly to the top edge of her white cotton panties. Drawing up, he looked down at her.

“You’re mine, Letty,” he whispered. “At last.”

Then his heavy, hard body crushed hers deliciously, sensually. Her fingertips moved down the warm skin of his back, feeling his muscle, his spine. He moved his hips against hers, and she felt how huge and hard he was for her. Desire coiled low and deep in her belly.

He slid her white cotton panties down her thighs, down her legs. Like a whisper, they were gone.

Pushing her legs apart, he knelt at the foot of the bed. She held her breath, squeezing her eyes shut in the shadowy bedroom as he kissed the tender hollow of each foot. He moved up her calves, his fingertips caressing her skin as he lifted each knee for a slow kiss in the hollow beneath. She shivered as she felt the warmth of his breath on her thighs.

His hands moved beneath her, cupping her backside. Her thighs melted beneath his breath, hips trembling.

Finally, with agonizing slowness, he lowered his head between her legs.

Moving his hands, he kissed her inner thighs, one then the other. She felt his breath against the most intimate part of her and tried to squirm away, but he held her firmly.

Spreading her wide, he took a long, deep taste. The pleasure was intense. She choked out a gasp.

Holding her hips down against the bed, he forced her to accept the pleasure, working her with his tongue, twirling against her aching nub for long exquisite moments, then lapping her with the full width of his tongue.

She forgot to breathe, held by ruthless pleasure like a butterfly pinned to a wall. Her hips lifted involuntarily off the bed as she soared, and she gripped the white bedspread so she didn’t fly up into the sky.

Waves of pleasure crashed against radiating joy. She’d never stopped loving him. And now he’d forgiven her. He wanted her. He loved her, too...

Twisting and gasping beneath his mouth, she exploded with a cry of pure happiness that seemed to last forever.

Instantly lifting his body, he pushed her arms above her head, gripping her wrists against the pillow, and positioned his hips between her legs. As she was still soaring between ecstasy and joy, he ruthlessly impaled her.

She felt him push all the way inside her, the entire enormous length of him going deep, to the heart. Her eyes flew open in shock and pain.

His back straightened at the moment he tore through the barrier that he clearly had not expected. Feeling her flinch, he looked down at her in shock.

“You were—a virgin?” he panted.

She nodded, closing her eyes and twisting her head away so he couldn’t see the threatening tears. She didn’t want to mar the beauty of their night, but the pain cut deep.

He held himself still inside her.

“You can’t be,” he said hoarsely. “How, after all these years?”

Letty looked up at him, her throat aching. And she said the only thing she could say. The words that she’d repressed for ten years, but that had never stopped burning inside her.

“Because I love you, Darius,” she whispered.


CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_0d284838-a519-5ccc-af21-53d0df153717)

DARIUS STARED DOWN at her. Letitia Spencer, a virgin?

Impossible. Not in a million years.

But her words shocked him even more.

“What do you mean, you love me?” he choked out.

Her dark eyelashes trembled against her pale skin. Then those big, beautiful hazel eyes shone up at him from the shadows of the bed as she whispered, “I never stopped loving you.”

Looking down at her beautiful heart-shaped face, Darius was overwhelmed by emotion. Not the good kind, either.

He felt the cold burn of slow-rising rage.

Once, he’d loved Letty Spencer so much he’d thought he’d die without her. She’d been his angel. His goddess. He’d put her on such a pedestal, he’d even insisted they wait to make love. He’d wanted to marry her.

The memory made him writhe with shame.

How far she’d fallen. Today, she’d sent him a message—her first direct communication with him since she’d dumped him so coldly ten years before—offering him her body. For money.

All afternoon, Darius had tried to ignore her message, to laugh it off. He’d gotten over Letty years ago. He wasn’t interested in paying a hundred thousand dollars to have her in his bed tonight. He didn’t pay for sex. Women fought for his attention now. Supermodels fell into his bed for the price of a phone call.

But the part of him that still couldn’t completely forget the past relished the idea of seeing her one last time.

Only this time, she’d be the one begging. He’d be the one to reject her.

As he’d signed the contracts that afternoon to formally sell his company, built on a mobile messaging app with five hundred million users worldwide, to a massive tech conglomerate for the price of twenty billion dollars, he’d barely listened to his lawyers droning on. Holding 90 percent of equity in the company made him the beneficiary of an eighteen-billion-dollar fortune, minus taxes.

But instead of rejoicing in the triumphant payoff of ten years of relentless work, he’d been picturing Letitia, the woman who’d once betrayed him. Imagining her trying to seduce him with an exotic dance of the seven veils. Picturing her wearing nothing but a black negligee. Begging him to take her to bed, so she could perform Olympic-level sexual feats for his pleasure.

After the papers were signed, he practically ran out of the office, away from all the congratulations and celebrations. All he could think about was Letty and her offer.

He’d spent hours trying to talk himself out of it. Then, gritting his teeth, he’d driven to the Brooklyn diner when the message said she’d be getting off work.

He didn’t intend to actually sleep with her, he told himself. He’d only wanted to make her feel as small and ashamed as he’d once felt. To see her humiliated. To see her beg to give him pleasure.

Then he’d planned to tell her he no longer found her attractive, and toss the money in her face. He’d watch her take it and slink away in shame. And for the rest of his life he’d know that he’d won.

What did he care about a hundred thousand dollars? It was nothing. It would be worth it to see her abject humiliation. After her savagely calculated betrayal, he craved vengeance far more than sex.

Or so he’d thought.

But so far nothing had gone according to plan. Seeing her outside the diner, he’d been shocked at her appearance. She didn’t look like a gold digger. She looked as if she were trying to be invisible, with no makeup, wearing that ridiculous white diner uniform.

But even then, he’d been drawn to her. She managed to be so damn sexy, so sweetly feminine and warm, that any man would want to help her, to take care of her. To possess her.

Bringing her back to the penthouse to enjoy his vengeance, Darius had allowed himself a single kiss.

Big mistake.

As he’d felt the soft curves of her body press against his, all his plans for vengeance were forgotten against the ruthless clamor of his body. For ten years, he’d desired this woman; and now she was half-naked in his arms, willing to surrender everything.

Suddenly, it all came down to two simple facts.

She’d sold herself.

He’d bought her.

So why not take her? Why not enjoy her sensual body as a way to finally excise her memory, once and for all?

She’d lied her way through the evening, pretending it was a romantic date, instead of a commercial transaction. He’d almost been surprised.

Until now.

Naked beneath him, Letty looked up, her eyes luminous in that lovely face he’d never been able to forget.

“Say something,” she said anxiously.

Darius set his jaw. After her heartless betrayal, followed by ten years of silence, she’d just told him out of the blue she loved him. What could he say in response? Go to hell?

Letitia Spencer. So beautiful. So treacherous. So poisonous.

But now, at last, he understood her goal. She wasn’t just playing for a hundred thousand dollars tonight. No. Tonight was just the sample that was supposed to leave him wanting more.

Because he’d seen her face as she left that diner. She was tired. Tired of working. Tired of being poor. Perhaps her father, newly free from prison, had been the one to suggest how to easily change her life—by becoming Darius’s wife.

She must have seen his company’s sale trumpeted in the newspaper today and decided it was time she made a play for his billions. He almost couldn’t blame her. She’d been holding on to her virginity all these years—why not cash in?

She loved him.

Cold, sardonic anger pulsed through him.

She thought he’d learned nothing all these years. She actually thought, if she told him she loved him, he would still swoon at her feet. That he was still the lovesick idiot of long ago.

If Darius had despised her before, it was nothing compared to how he felt about her now.

And yet, he still desired her. Holding himself motionless inside her hot, tight sheath, he was still so hard, he was close to exploding.

That fact enraged him even more.

He wanted to make her pay. Not just for this last insult, but for everything that had gone before. Suddenly, causing her one night of humiliation wasn’t nearly enough.

Darius wanted vengeance.

He wanted to raise her up, give her hope, then bring it crashing down as she’d once done. Fantastical plans coursed through his skull. He wanted to marry her, fill her with his child. He wanted to make her love him, then coldly spurn her. He wanted to take everything, and leave her penniless and alone.

That wouldn’t be revenge. It would be justice.

“Darius?” A shadow of worry had crossed her face as she looked up at him, naked on the bed.

Lowering his head, he kissed her almost tenderly. She trembled in his arms, her plump breasts crushed against his naked chest, her amazing hips spread wide for him. Seeing her stretched out on his bed, with the play of shadows and light on the sexy curves of her tantalizing breasts, stretched the limits of his self-control.

“I’m sorry I hurt you, agape mou,” he said in a low voice. Lie. His lips brushed the sensitive flesh of her cheek. As lightly as a butterfly setting down, he kissed the two tears that had overflowed her lashes. “But the pain won’t last.” Another lie. He would make sure it lasted the rest of her life. He smiled grimly. “Just wait.”

She looked up at him, the picture of wide-eyed innocence. Then sighed, relaxing in surrender.

The kiss he gave her then was anything but tender. It was demanding, rough, fierce. He had experience, and she did not. He knew how to lure her. How to master her.

Unless—she could be feigning her desire?

No, he thought coldly. He would make sure she did not. That would be one insult he’d not allow her to pay. He would make sure every bit of her pleasure was real.

He stroked her soft body, taking his time, caressing her, until, slowly, she started kissing him back.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling his weight back down on her. He shifted his hips, testing her ability to accept him, still rock hard and huge inside her. She whimpered, then exhaled, swaying her hips.

He moved expertly, drawing back slowly, then pushing inside her a second time. She gripped his shoulders, closing her eyes. He suckled a nipple, watching her face carefully. It wasn’t until he saw the glow of ecstasy return to her face, and felt her muscles start to tighten around him, that he knew he’d succeeded. Triumph filled him as he began to ride her.

Filling her so deeply, this woman he’d desired for almost a third of his life, he felt light-headed. His body started to shake with pleasure so intense that it was almost like pain. They were so intertwined it was hard to know where one ended and the other began.

Pleasure and pain.

Hatred and desire.

As he thrust into her, sweat covered his body with the effort of keeping control. Her breasts swayed as he thrust inside her, all the way to the hilt. Gasping, she put her hands against the headboard, bracing against the force of his thrust. Her breathing became shallow as her body twisted beneath him with building need.

Her eyes were closed, her head tilted back, as she panted for breath. She moved her hands to his shoulders. He barely noticed her fingernails digging into his skin. He was lost in the sensation of possessing her, filling her, owning her, the glory of her flesh, the sweetness of her skin.

He felt simultaneously lost and found. Every corner of his soul that had ever felt hollow was miraculously filled. His body was pure light.

From a distance, he heard a low ragged shout and realized the sound was coming from his own mouth, releasing emotion he’d kept locked up for a decade. Her voice joined his as she cried out her own joy and grief and pain.

His body spasmed with a final, violent thrust and he poured himself into her, collapsing over her on the bed, their bodies slick with sweat, fused together.

It was much later when he opened his eyes and discovered Letty was sleeping in his arms. He stared down at her in wonder.

He wondered how he’d ever been satisfied by those pallid, skinny supermodels who had filled his bed till now. Those affairs had been insipid, hollow, dull compared to this fire. Tasting her, feeling her shake, hearing her cry of pleasure had pushed him to the limit.

It’s hatred, he realized.

Hatred had made him utterly lose self-control in a way he’d never done before, in a way he’d never imagined possible. As he’d taken possession of her body, after ten years of frustrated desire, he’d slaked his ache in a dark, twisted fantasy of vengeance.

It had been the single best sexual experience of his life.

But as he pulled away from her, he sucked in his breath.

The condom had broken.

He’d worn one, of course. No matter how he might fantasize about revenge, no matter how much he hated her, the last thing he would want was to actually get her pregnant and drag an innocent child into this.

Now he stared down, unable to believe his own eyes. How could the condom have broken?

Had he been too rough, forgetting everything in his need to possess her, to relieve the savage, unrequited desire of ten years?

He’d wanted to brand her forever with the deepest mark of his possession. Had he actually wanted to fill her with his child?

A curse filled his heart.

Unraveling himself from her, he pulled away, rising naked from the bed.

He walked to the window and looked down at the bright skyscrapers of this dark city. His throat was tight as he pressed his hand against the cold glass. Catching his own reflection in the window, he was startled by the cold rage in his eyes.

Disaster. He hadn’t done anything like he’d planned. He’d actually slept with Letty. And now...it might be so much worse. His hand tightened against the window. He looked back, and his jaw tightened.

Her fault, he thought. All hers.

“Are you up?” Letty murmured. “Come back to bed.”

She was beneath the blankets now, looking sleepy and adorable with her dark hair tumbling over his pillows. She’d covered herself with the comforter. As if he hadn’t seen everything, touched everything, tasted everything already.

His body hardened against his will, already desiring her again. He’d just had her, and he already wanted more. He wanted to take her on the bed. Against the wall. Against the window. Again and again. He stared at her in bewildered fury. Truly she was poison.

But did he really imagine after everything that had gone wrong tonight, the gold digger couldn’t achieve her ultimate goal—marriage and total command, not just of his fortune, but of his body and soul?

He clawed a hand through his hair.

“Darius, what’s wrong?”

He repeated flatly, “You love me?”

“It’s true,” she whispered.

He took a step toward the bed.

“What is it, Letty?” he said in a low voice. “Did you plan all along to renegotiate the deal? One night isn’t enough, is that it? You don’t want to be a rental, but a permanent sale?”

She frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Darius’s jaw felt so tight it ached. Grabbing gray sweatpants from a sleek built-in drawer, he pulled them up over his naked body. He forced his shoulders to relax, forced himself to face her. When he spoke, his voice was like ice.

“You don’t love me. You don’t even know what the word means. When I think of how I once adored you, it sickens me. Especially now—now we both know what you really are.”

Her forehead creased. “What are you talking about?”

“This night. This whole night. Don’t pretend you don’t know.”

“I don’t!”

“Don’t play the outraged innocent. You sold your virginity to me for the price of a hundred thousand dollars.”

For a moment, his hard words echoed in the shadowy bedroom. The two of them stared at each other in silence.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your email,” he said impatiently. “Claiming you needed to pay off some mobster who’d broken your father’s arm and threatened to break his whole body if he didn’t come up with a hundred thousand dollars within the week.” He tilted his head curiously. “Is it true? Or just a convenient excuse?”

Her eyes were wide. “My father’s broken arm...” She seemed to shudder as she pulled the blankets up higher against her neck. “I never sent any message.”

His lips curved sardonically. “So who did?”

Letty’s cheeks were bright red. “I...” Running her hand over her eyes, she said, “So that’s why you came for me? You were buying a night in bed?”

“What did you think?”

“I thought...” She faltered. “I thought you’d forgiven me for what I did...”

He snorted. “Ten years ago? You did me a favor. I’ve been better off without you. Your other fiancé must have realized that fast, since he didn’t bother to stick around, either.” His jaw set. “What I’ll never forgive is what you and your father did to my dad. He died an early death because of you. Lost his job, his life savings. He lost everything, had a heart attack and died.” He bared his teeth in a sharklike smile. “Because of you.”

“Darius, it’s not what you think,” she blurted out. “I...”

“Oh, is this the part where you come up with an explanation that makes you look like an innocent saint?” he drawled. “Go on, Letty. Tell me how your betrayal was actually a favor. Explain how you destroyed my family at great personal sacrifice, because you loved me so much.” His voice dripped contempt. “Tell me all about your love.”

She opened her mouth.

Then snapped it closed.

Darius’s lip twisted coldly. “That’s what I thought.”

She blinked fast, her beautiful eyes anguished. She took a deep breath and spoke one small word. “Please...”

But mercy had been burned from his soul. He shrugged. “I thought it would be amusing to see you again. I didn’t actually intend to sleep with you, but you were so willing, I finally thought, why not?” He sighed as if bored. “But though I paid for the whole night, I find I’ve already lost interest.” Leaning forward, he confided, “And just as one entrepreneur to another, you sold yourself too cheaply. You could have bartered for a higher price with your virginity. Just a suggestion as you go forward with your new career. What is it called now? Paid mistress? Professional girlfriend?”

“How can you be so cruel?” She shook her head. “When you came to the diner tonight, I saw the same boy I loved...”

“Really?” He tilted his head, quirking a dark eyebrow. “Oh. Right. Since you’d kept your virginity in reserve all these years, you thought if you tossed in a little romance, I’d fall for you like a stone, just like I did back then. ‘I love you, Darius. I never stopped loving you,’” he mimicked mockingly.

“Stop!” she cried, covering her ears with her hands. “Please stop!”

Some of her blanket had slipped where she sat on his bed, revealing a curvy breast. He could see the faint pink tip of her nipple, and he could still taste the sweetness of her, still remember how it had felt to be deep inside her.

His breath came hard. Sleeping with her hadn’t satiated his desire. To the contrary. He only wanted her more.

The fact she still had such power over him was infuriating.

Turning sharply, he went to his desk. He pulled a cashier’s check from a leather binder. Returning to the bed, he tossed it toward her.

“There. I believe this concludes our business.”

Letty’s lovely face looked dazed as she picked up the cashier’s check from the bed. She looked at it.

“If you have another client tonight, don’t let me keep you,” he drawled.

She briefly closed her eyes and whispered, “You’re a monster.”

“I’m a monster.” He barked a low, cruel laugh. “Me?”

Turning away, she rose naked from the bed. He waited, wondering for a split second if she’d toss the check in his face and prove him wrong. If she did...

But she didn’t. She just picked up her panties from the floor and walked to the door. He sneered at himself for being naive enough to even imagine the possibility she’d give up her hard-earned money for the sake of honor, or even pride!

She left the bedroom, going out into the great room of the penthouse. He followed, watching as she collected her bra and shoes, then scooped her white dress from the floor. Putting it on after slipping on her panties, she buttoned the dress quickly, leaving gaps where he’d ripped off buttons in his haste to get it off her. She wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Darius wanted to force her to look at him. He wanted her humiliated. He wanted her heartbroken. His pride demanded something he couldn’t name. More.

She stuffed her bra in her handbag and put her bare feet into her shoes and turned to go.

“It’s just a shame the condom broke,” he said.

She froze. “What?”

“The condom. Of course I was wearing one. But it broke. So if you wind up pregnant, let me know, won’t you?” He gave a hard smile. “We will negotiate a good price.”

He was rewarded. She finally turned and looked at him, aghast.

“You’d pay me? For a baby?”

He said coldly, “Why not, when I paid you for the act that created it?” His expression hardened. “I will never marry you, Letty. So your attempt at gold digging ends with that check in your bag. If by some unfortunate chance you become pregnant, selling me our baby would be your only option.”

“You’re crazy!”

“And you disgust me.” He came closer to her, his eyes cold. “I would never allow any child of mine to be raised by you and that criminal you call a father. I would hire a hundred lawyers first,” he said softly, “and drive you both into the sea.”

For a moment, Letty looked at him, wide-eyed. Then she turned away with a stumble, but not before he saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. She’d become quite the little actress, he thought.

“Please take me home,” she whispered.

“Take you home?” Darius gave a sardonic laugh. “You’re an employee, not a guest. A temporary employee whose time is now done.” His lip curled. “Find your own way home.”


CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_36375cac-b4e5-5f04-9dfb-a70ad49362ec)

LETTY SHIVERED IN the darkest, coldest hours of the night as she walked to the Lexington Avenue subway station and got on the express train. It was past one in the morning, and she held her bag tightly in the mostly empty compartment, feeling vulnerable and alone.

Arriving at her stop in Brooklyn, she came numbly down the stairs from the elevated station and walked the blocks to her apartment. The streets were dark, the shops all closed. The February—no, it was March now; it was past midnight—wind was icy against her cheeks still raw with tears.

She’d thought it was a miracle when she saw Darius again. She’d thought he’d found out the truth of how she’d sacrificed herself, and he’d come back for her.

Telling him she loved him had felt so right. She’d honestly thought he might tell her the same thing.

How could she have been so wrong?

You disgust me.

She could still hear the contempt in his voice. Wiping her eyes hard, she shivered, trembling as she trudged toward her four-story apartment building.

While many of the nearby buildings were nice, well kept, with flower boxes, hers was an eyesore, with a rickety fire escape clinging to a crumbling brick facade. But the place was cheap, and the landlord had asked no personal questions, which was what she cared about. Plugging in a security code, Letty pushed open the door.

Inside, the temperature felt colder. Two of the foyer’s lights were burned out, leaving only a single bare lightbulb to illuminate the mailboxes and the old delivery menus littering the corners of the cracked tile floor.

Even in the middle of the night, noises echoed against the concrete stairwell, a Doppler tangle of tenants yelling, dogs barking, a baby crying. A sour smell came up from beneath the metal stairs as she wearily climbed three flights. She felt wretched, body and soul, torn between her body’s sweet ache from their lovemaking and her heart’s incandescent grief.

The fourth floor had worn, stained carpet and a bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. Going past the doors of her neighbors—some of whom she’d never met even after three years—she reached into her handbag, found her keys and unlocked the dead bolt. The door creaked as she pushed it open.

“Letty! You’re back!” Her father looked up eagerly from his easy chair. He’d waited up for her, wrapped in both a robe and a blanket over his flannel pajamas, since the thermostat didn’t work properly. Turning off the television, he looked up hopefully. “Well?”

As the door swung shut behind her, Letty stared at him in disbelief. Her handbag dropped to the floor.

“How could you?” she choked out.

“How could I get you and Darius back together so easily?” Her father beamed at her. “All I needed was a good excuse!”

Her voice caught on a sob. “Are you kidding?”

Howard frowned. “Are you and Darius not back together?”

“Of course we’re not! How could you send him a message, pretending to be me? Offering me for the night!”

“I was trying to help,” he said falteringly. “You’ve loved him for so long but refused to contact him. Or he you. I thought...”

“What? That if you forced us together, we’d immediately fall back into each other’s arms?”

“Well, yes.”

As she stared at him, still trembling from the roller coaster of emotion of that night, anger rushed through her.

“You didn’t do it for me!” Reaching into her bag, she grabbed the cashier’s check and shoved it at him. “You did it for this!”

Her father’s hands shook as he grasped the cashier’s check. Seeing the amount, his eyes filled with visible relief. “Thank God.”

“How could you?” She wanted to shake her father and scream at him for what he’d done. “How could you sell me?”

“Sell you?” Her father looked up incredulously. “I didn’t sell you!” Struggling to untangle himself from his blanket, he rose from his chair and sat beside her on the sofa. “I figured the two of you would talk and soon realize how you’d been set up. I thought you’d both have a good laugh, and it would be easier for you each to get over your pride. Maybe he’d send money, maybe he wouldn’t.” His voice cracked. “But either way, you’d be together again. The two of you love each other.”

“You did it for love.” Letty’s eyes narrowed skeptically. “So the fact that you read about Darius’s billion-dollar deal this morning had nothing to do with it.”

He winced at her sarcasm, then looked down at the floor. His voice trembled a little as he said, “I guess I thought there was no harm in also trying to solve a problem of my own with a...dissatisfied customer.”

Glaring at him, Letty opened her mouth to say the cruel words he deserved to hear. Words she’d never be able to take back. Words neither one of them would ever be able to forget. Words that would take her anguish and rage, wrap them up into a tight ball and launch them at her father like a grenade.

Then she looked at him, old and forlorn, sitting beside her on the sagging sofa. The man she’d once admired and still absolutely loved.

His hair had become white and wispy, barely covering his spotted scalp. His face, once so hearty and handsome, was gaunt with deep wrinkles on his cheeks. He’d shrunk, become thin and bowed. His robe was too big on him now. His near decade in prison had aged him thirty years.

Howard Spencer, a middle-class kid from Oklahoma, had come to New York and built a fortune with only his charm and a good head for numbers. He’d fallen in love with Constance Langford, the only daughter of an old aristocratic family on Long Island. The Langfords had little money left beyond the Fairholme estate, which was in hock up to the eyeballs. But Howard Spencer, delirious with happiness at their marriage, had assured Constance she’d never worry about money again.

He’d kept his promise. While his wife had been alive, he’d been careful and smart and lucky with his investment fund. It was only after his wife’s sudden death that he’d become reckless, taking bigger and bigger financial risks, until his once respected hedge fund became a hollowed-out Ponzi scheme, and suddenly eight billion dollars were gone.

The months of Howard’s arrest and trial had been awful for Letty, and worrying about him in prison had been even worse. But now, as she looked at the old man he’d somehow become, was the worst of all.

As she looked at his slumped shoulders, his heartbroken eyes—at his broken arm, still hanging uselessly in the cast—she felt her anger evaporate, leaving in its place only grief and despair. Her mouth snapped shut.

Slumping forward, she covered her face with her hands.

The memory of Darius’s words floated back to her. You needed to pay off some mobster who’d broken your father’s arm and threatened to break his whole body if he didn’t come up with a hundred thousand dollars within the week.

Chilled, she looked up. “Why didn’t you tell me someone broke your arm, Dad? Why did you let me think it was an accident?”

Howard looked down at the floor guiltily. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Worry?” she cried.

His wan cheeks turned pink. “A father’s supposed to take care of his daughter, not the other way around.”

“So it’s true? Some thug broke your arm and threatened you if you didn’t pay him back his money?”

“I knew I could handle it.” He tried to smile. “And I have. Once I sign over this check, everything will be fine.”

“How do you know you won’t have more thugs demanding money, once it’s known you actually paid someone back?”

Her father looked shocked. “No. Most of the people who invested in my fund were good, civilized people. Not violent!”

Letty ground her teeth. For a man who’d been in a minimum-security federal prison for nine years, he could be surprisingly naive.

“You should have told me.”

“Why? What would you have done except worry? Or worse—try to talk to the man yourself and put yourself in danger?” He set his jaw. “Like I said, I didn’t know if Darius would actually send the money. But I knew, either way, you would be safe because you’d be with him.” He shook his head, trying to smile. “I really thought you and Darius would take one look at each other and be happy again.”

Letty sagged back against the sofa cushions. Her father’d really thought he was doing her a favor. That he was reuniting her with a lost love. That he was protecting her, saving her.

She whispered bleakly, “Darius thought I was a gold digger.”

Howard looked indignant. “Of course he didn’t! Once you told him you hadn’t sent the message...”

“He didn’t believe me.”

“Then...then...he must have believed you were just a good daughter looking out for your father. Darius has so much money now, you can’t tell me he’ll miss such a small amount. Not after everything you did for him!”

“Stop,” she choked out. Just remembering how Darius had looked at her when he handed her the cashier’s check was enough to make her want to die. But after he’d told her about the threat against her father’s life, what choice had she had?

Her father looked bewildered. “Didn’t you tell him what happened ten years ago? Why you never ran away with him?”

She flinched as she remembered Darius’s acid words. Go on, Letty. Tell me how your betrayal was actually a favor. Explain how you destroyed my family at great personal sacrifice, because you loved me so much.

“No,” she whispered, “and I never will. Darius doesn’t love me. He hates me more than ever.”

Howard’s wrinkled face looked mournful. “Oh, sweetheart.”

“But now I hate him, too.” She looked up. “That’s the one good thing that happened tonight. Now I hate him, too.”

Her father looked anguished. “That was never what I wanted!”

“It’s good.” Wiping her eyes, she tried to smile. “I’ve wasted too many years dreaming of him. Missing him. I’m done.”

She was.

The Darius Kyrillos she’d loved no longer existed. She saw that now. She’d tried to give him everything, and he’d seduced her with a cold heart. Her love for Darius was burned out of her forever. Her only hope was to try to forget.

But four weeks later, she found out how impossible that would be. She’d never be able to forget Darius Kyrillos now.

She was pregnant with his baby.

She’d taken the pregnancy test, sure it would be negative. When it was positive, she was shocked. But shock soon became a happy daze as Letty imagined a sweet fat baby in her arms, to cuddle and adore.

Then she told her father.

“I’m going to be a grandfather?” Howard was enraptured at the news. “That’s wonderful! And when you tell Darius—”

That caused the first chill of fear. Because Letty suddenly recalled this baby wouldn’t just be hers, but Darius’s.

He hated her.

He’d threatened to take her baby from her.

Letty shook her head violently. “I can never tell him about the baby!”

“Of course you will.” Her father patted her on the shoulder. “I know you’re angry at him. He must have hurt you very badly. But that’s all in the past! A man has a right to know he’s going to be a father.”

“Why?” She turned to him numbly. “So he can try to take the baby away because he hates me so much?”

“Take the baby?” Her father laughed. “Once Darius finds out you’re pregnant, he’ll forget his anger and remember how much he loves you. You’ll see. The baby will bring you together.”

She shook her head. “You’re living in a dream world. He told me...”

“What?”

Letty turned away, hearing the echo of that coldly malevolent voice. I would never allow any child of mine to be raised by you and that criminal you call a father.

“We need to start saving money,” she whispered. “Now.”

“Why? Once you’re married, money will never be a worry for you again.” Howard looked ecstatic. “You and my grandchild will always be cared for.”

Letty knew her father couldn’t believe Darius wanted to hurt her. But she knew he did.

I would hire a hundred lawyers first and drive you both into the sea.

They had to leave this city as soon as possible.

Under the terms of her father’s probation, Howard was required to remain in the state of New York. So they’d go north, move to some little town upstate where no one knew them, where she could find a new job.

There was just one problem. Moving required money. First and last month’s rent, a security deposit and transport for Letty, Howard and all their belongings. Money they didn’t have. They were barely keeping their heads above water as it was.

Over the next few months, Letty’s fears were proved true. No matter how hard she worked, she couldn’t save money. Howard was always hungry or needed something urgently. Money disappeared. There were also the added expenses of medical co-payments for Letty’s doctor visits, and physical therapy for her father’s arm.

There was some good fortune. After Howard had paid off the mobster, no other angry former investors had threatened him, demanding repayment.

But there, their luck ended. Just when Letty was desperate for overtime pay, all the other waitstaff suddenly seemed to want it, too. But warmer summer weather meant fewer customers at the diner craving the fried eggs and chicken fried steak that were the diner’s specialties. Her work hours became less, not more.

Each morning when she left for work, her father pretended to look through job listings in the paper, looking shifty-eyed and pale. Pregnancy exhausted her. Each night when she got home from work, almost falling asleep where she stood, she cooked dinner for them both. She’d do the dishes and go to bed. Then the whole day would start again.

Every day, she anxiously counted the savings she kept in her old chipped cookie jar on the kitchen counter. And every day, she looked at the calendar and felt more afraid.

By late August, amid the sticky heat of New York City, Letty was growing frantic. She could no longer hide her baby bump, not even with her father’s oversize shirts. Everyone at the diner knew she was pregnant, including her friend and coworker Belle Langtry, who kept teasing her about it.

“Who’s the father?” Belle demanded. “Is it Prince Charming? I swear I saw you leave here once with a dark-haired man in a sports car.”

No. It wasn’t Prince Charming, Letty thought numbly. Her baby’s father was no prince, but a selfish, coldhearted beast who wanted to steal her child away.

Finally, as her yearlong lease on the apartment ended, she knew she couldn’t wait any longer. She gave two weeks’ notice at the diner. She still hadn’t saved enough money, but time had run out.

On the first of September, Letty splashed cold water on her face in the darkness before dawn, then looked at her drawn face in the mirror.

Today was the day.

They couldn’t rent a truck to move their belongings. No money for that. Instead, they’d just take what would fit in two suitcases on the bus.

They’d have to leave behind all the final memories from Fairholme. From her childhood. From her mother.

The thought made her throat ache.

But Letty was six months pregnant now. Her heart pounded as she put her hand protectively over her baby bump. She knew from the ultrasound at the doctor’s office that she was expecting a boy. How had time fled so quickly? In less than three months, by late November, she’d be cuddling her sweet baby in her arms.

Or else she’d be weeping as the baby’s coldhearted father took him away from her forever. She still remembered Darius’s cold, dark eyes, heard the flat echo of his voice.

If by some unfortunate chance you become pregnant, selling me our baby would be your only option.

She was suddenly terrified she’d waited too long to leave New York.

Going into the tiny kitchen, she tried to keep her voice cheerful as she said, “Dad, I’m going to pick up my last paycheck, then buy bus tickets.”

“I still don’t understand why Rochester,” he said with a scowl.

She sighed. “I told you. My friend Belle knows someone who knows someone who might be able to get me a job there. Everyone says it’s nice. I need you to start packing.”

“I have other plans today.” His voice was peevish.

“Dad, our lease is up in two days. I know it’s not fun, but whatever you don’t pack, I’m going to have to call the junk dealer to take.” Her throat ached. Maybe all their leftover stuff was junk, but it was all they had left. Of Fairholme. Of her mother. Her voice tightened. “Look, I know it won’t be easy.”

Sitting at the peeling Formica table where he was doing the crossword, Howard glared at her with irritation. “You just need to tell that man of yours you’re pregnant.”

They’d been having this argument for months. She gritted her teeth. “I can’t. I told you.”

“Poppycock. A man should be given the opportunity to take care of his own child. And you know, Letty,” he added gruffly, “I won’t always be here to look after you.”

Howard—look after her? When was the last time that had been true, instead of the other way around? She looked at her father, then sighed. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“I knew Darius as a boy.” Fiddling with his untouched coffee mug, he looked at her seriously. “If you’d just help him see past his anger, he’s got a good heart—”

“I’m not gambling on his good heart,” she said bitterly. “Not after the way he treated me.”

Her father looked thoughtful. “I could just call him...”

“No!” Letty shouted. Her eyes blazed. “If you ever go behind my back like that again, I will never talk to you for the rest of my life. Do you understand? Never.”

“Okay, okay,” he grumbled. “But he’s your baby’s father. You should just marry him and be happy.”

That left her speechless for a minute.

“Just be packed by the time I return,” she said finally, and she went out into the gray, rainy September morning. She picked up her last check at the diner—for a pitiful amount, but every dollar would help—and said farewell to her fellow waitress Belle, who’d moved to New York from Texas the previous Christmas.

“Anytime you need anything, you call me, you hear?” Belle hugged her fiercely. “No matter where you are, Rochester or Rome, remember I’m only a phone call away!”

Letty didn’t make friends easily, so it was hard to say goodbye to the only real friend she’d made since she’d left Fairholme. The thought of going to yet another new apartment in a new town where she didn’t know anyone, in hopes of starting a job that might not even exist, filled her with dread. She tried to smile.

“You too, Belle,” she managed. Then, wiping her eyes, she said goodbye to everyone else at the diner and went back out into the rain to deposit her check at the bank and get two one-way bus tickets to Rochester.

When Letty got back home, her hair and clothes were damp with rain. Her father wasn’t at the apartment, and his suitcases were empty. All their belongings were still untouched, exactly where she’d left them.

She’d just sort through everything herself, she thought wearily. Once she’d figured out how many boxes they’d have to leave behind, she’d call the junk dealer.

Of the eight billion dollars her father’s investment fund had lost, three billion had since been recovered. But the authorities had been careful not to leave him with anything of value. Their possessions had been picked over long ago by the Feds and bankruptcy court.

What was left was all crammed into this tiny apartment. The broken flute her mother had played at Juilliard. The ceramic animals Constance had painted for her daughter as gifts, starting with her first birthday. The leather-bound classic books from her grandfather’s collection, water-damaged, so worthless. Except to them. Her great-grandfather’s old ship in a bottle. Her grandma Spencer’s homemade Christmas ornaments. All would have to be left.

We’ll get through it, Letty told herself fiercely. They could still be happy. She’d raise her baby with love, in a snug cottage overlooking a garden of flowers. Her son would have a happy childhood, just as Letty had.

He wouldn’t be raised in some stark gray penthouse without a mother, without love...

Letty started digging through the first pile of clutter. She planned to stay up the whole night scrubbing down the apartment, in hopes their landlord might actually give back her security deposit.

Hearing a hard knock at the door, she rose to her feet, overwhelmed with relief. Her father had come back to help. He must have forgotten his key again. Sorting through their possessions would be so much easier with two of them—

Opening the door, she gasped.

Darius stood in her doorway, dressed in a black button-down shirt with well-cut jeans that showed the rugged lines of his powerful body. It was barely noon, but his jaw was dark with five-o’clock shadow.

For a moment, even hating and fearing him as she did, Letty was dazzled by that ruthless masculine beauty.

“Letty,” he greeted her coldly. Then his eyes dropped to her baby bump.

With an intake of breath, Letty tried to shut the door in his face.

He blocked her with his powerful shoulder and pushed his way into her apartment.


CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_23fe44ff-0557-56c8-8dcd-92aff7e50ad1)

SIX MONTHS AGO Darius had wanted vengeance.

He’d gotten it. He’d ruthlessly taken Letitia Spencer’s virginity, then tossed her out into a cold winter’s night. He’d seduced her, insulted her. He’d thrown the money in her face, made her feel cheap.

It had been delicious.

But since then, to his dismay, he’d discovered the price of that vengeance.

In Darius’s childhood, back on the Greek island where he was born, his grandmother had often told him that vengeance hurt the person who committed it worse than the one who endured it. When the kids at school mocked his illegitimate birth, sneering at his mother’s abandonment—Even your own mitéra didn’t want you—his grandmother had told him to ignore them, to take the high road.

He’d tried, but the boys’ taunts had only grown worse until he was finally forced to punch them. They’d all been bloodied in the fight, but especially Darius, since it had been one against four.

“So you see I’m right,” his grandmother had said gravely, bandaging him afterward. “You were hurt worse.”

In Darius’s own opinion, that vengeance had been not only justified, but strategic. The boys at school had never taunted him again.

But this time, his grandmother had been proved right. Because Darius’s vengeance against Letty had hurt him more than he’d ever imagined.

Instead of quenching the flame, that night together had only built his desire for her into a blazing fire.

He wanted her. Every night for the last six months, he’d half expected Letty to contact him. Once her prideful anger had faded, surely she would want him back—if not for his body, then obviously for his money.

But she never had. And when he’d remembered the haunted look on her beautiful heart-shaped face the night she’d told him she loved him, the night he’d taken her virginity and tossed her ruthlessly into the dark, he’d had moments when he’d wondered if he might have been wrong.

But how could he be wrong? The evidence spoke for itself.

Still, in the months since their night together, his continual raw desire for her had made him edgy. He’d intended to remain as his company’s CEO for a year, guiding his team in the transition after the sale. Instead, he’d gotten into an argument with the head of the conglomerate and left within weeks. Darius could no longer endure working for someone else, but he’d signed a noncompete clause, so couldn’t start a new business in the same field.

Bereft of the twenty-hour workdays that had been the entirety of his life for a decade, he hadn’t known how to fill his hours. He tried spending some of his fortune. He’d bought a race car, then ten cars, then a race track. He’d bought four planes, all with interiors done in different colors. No. Next he’d tried extreme sports: skydiving, heli-skiing. Yawn.

Worst of all, he’d been surrounded by beautiful women, all keen to get his attention. And he hadn’t wanted a single one of them.

He’d been bored. Worse. He’d felt frustrated and angry. Because even with the endless freedom of time and money, he couldn’t have what he really wanted.

Letty.

Now, seeing her in the flesh, so beautiful—so pregnant—he hated himself for ever taking his vengeance. No matter how richly she’d deserved it, look where that thrill of hatred and lust had led.

Pregnant. With his baby.

Even wearing an oversize white T-shirt and baggy jeans, Letty was somehow more sensual, more delectable, than any stick-thin model in a skintight cocktail dress. Letty’s pregnancy curves were lush. Her skin glowed. Her breasts had grown enormous. With effort, he forced his gaze down to her belly.




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