Burn (8 page)

“That sucks,” Josie said. “I adored my mother. And my grandmother. They were wonderful women. So what happened with your sister? And how old is she?”

“Brittany is the youngest. She’s thirty now. My mom married her off right out of college to a much older man who had the right pedigree. The marriage lasted two years and Brittany bailed, getting nothing in the divorce settlement. That pissed my mother off even more because in her words, she’d worked damn hard to land a husband for Brittany and the least she could do was suck it up and remain a dutiful wife until her husband died, leaving her a rich widow and the means to funnel money to her parents.”

“Wow,” Josie whispered. “That’s insane. I mean that’s stuff from some historical saga. I didn’t think there were really people like that in this day and age.”

He smiled. “Sorry to burst your bubble.”

“So what prompted Brittany’s visit?”

“She wants out,” he said quietly. “As I said, she got nothing in the divorce and she’s been living with my parents ever since. She has a college degree but has never had a job. She came to ask me for help. Primarily financial help, but I think she was looking for an ally. Emotional support as well.”

“And did you help her?”

“Of course. I set her up in an apartment, got a bank account opened for her with enough cash to last until she starts work. In a few days she’ll take a position in one of my hotels. The rest is up to her. I gave her the means to start a new life, but it’ll be up to her to make it successful. My mother is going to give her shit. She’ll want Brittany back under her thumb where she pulls all the strings. I just hope Brittany has the balls to stand up to her.”

“I think it’s wonderful that you did so much for her. She must have felt like she had no one to turn to.”

Ash shook his head. “She didn’t. And regardless of how shitty she may have treated me in the past, I do realize that she didn’t really have a choice. Mom wouldn’t have allowed anything else. She seems sincere now, and if she is, then I’ll do whatever I can to help her. I don’t care what my parents and other siblings think of me. Brittany hasn’t gotten to that point yet, but she will.”

“Other siblings? How many do you have?”

“Three including Brittany. I have two older brothers who are both in their forties and neither one of them can support their families without help from my parents and the old man.”

“That’s sad. So if you don’t have anything to do with them, how did you make it? I mean you’re obviously successful.”

“I think it’s your turn,” he pointed out. “I’ve spilled my guts and so far all I know about you is that your dad is an asshole and your mother passed away after a long battle with cancer.”

“I’ll let you ask a question as soon as you answer my last one.”

He arched an eyebrow at her. “Then I get two because you’re already over quota.”

Her lips twitched in amusement. “Do you have any idea how sterile this conversation is with all the talk of keeping score?”

“It doesn’t have to be. And okay, I’ll answer, but this is the last one until you catch up.”

“Deal,” she said with a smile.

“I became friends with Gabe Hamilton and Jace Crestwell in college. Jace’s parents were killed in an accident when he was twenty and he had to take over caring for his much younger sister. Our focus changed after that. Before we had a fuck-it attitude and while we made the grades, we were more concerned with beer and women. We formed our business as soon as we were out of college. We started with a single hotel. Poured our heart and soul into it, and every penny we could scrape up or borrow. We waited a year before we expanded. Using the first hotel as collateral, we were able to secure financing for another property. From there, using the early hotels and their success, we expanded rapidly and began to have an easier time finding investors.”

“So your family had nothing to do with your success, then.”

“None whatsoever,” he bit out. “I wouldn’t take a dime from them. Didn’t want the strings attached. And I wanted them to have no part of my business.”

“Guess they didn’t take that very well,” she murmured.

He grinned. “Nope. They were pissed that
A
: I made it without them and
B
: I don’t give them money. It’s kind of like if your dad showed up tomorrow and wanted you to be one big happy family.”

Her eyes grew stormy and her lips tightened at the mention of her father.

He leaned forward, sliding his hand across the table to cover hers once more. A muscle jumped in her arm and she shivered, chill bumps forming and racing across her skin.

“Now it’s my turn to ask you twenty questions.”

“Hey, I didn’t ask you twenty.”

“Close enough,” he muttered.

She sighed. “Okay, okay. Ask away.”

His gaze immediately went to her neck. To that pale ring where the collar had rested. It had been the first thing he’d noticed when she’d walked out of the pawnshop, and he hadn’t dared to get his hopes up. But the fact that she’d accepted his dinner invitation, even if he’d blackmailed her, and that she didn’t wear the collar tonight as a barrier between them, told him that she was at least intrigued by this thing between them. Whatever the hell it was.

“Why aren’t you wearing the collar?” he asked softly.

Her free hand went immediately to her neck, and consternation shone brightly in her eyes. But she remained quiet, lips firmly pressed together.

“Josie? Why aren’t you wearing the collar?”

She sighed. “I’m not seeing him anymore.”

He had to work hard not to react to that piece of news. He’d suspected as much, but he hadn’t wanted to jump to any conclusions.

“What happened?”

She pulled her hand away from his, dropping it into her lap. She looked down, refusing to meet his gaze. He waited, not letting her off the hook. This was too important. He wanted to know everything.

“Did you break it off or did he?” he finally asked.

“I did.”

“Want to tell me why? What happened, Josie?”

Her head popped up, her eyes flashing. “
You’re
what happened, Ash.
You
.”

chapter seven

There was no faking Ash’s surprise. She’d definitely caught him off guard with her outburst. His eyes narrowed and he leaned farther over the table. He was still holding one hand, and he covered her free one, his palm sliding over the tops of her knuckles.

The man was lethal. With every touch, he seduced her, and she doubted he even knew it. Or maybe he did. Maybe he knew
exactly
what he was doing.

“I didn’t happen,” he said in a low voice. “Because if I did, you’d be in my bed right now.”

His voice was a husky growl, sliding over her skin until the hairs at her nape stood on end.

She tried to pull her hands away, but he held firm, not allowing her to escape.

“You happened,” she refuted. “That day in the park. You made me question everything. And I didn’t like what I discovered as a result.”

“And that being?”

She shifted, uncomfortable with his close scrutiny. She didn’t want to be having this conversation. It was too intimate. It was too . . . revealing. Ash was a man that if you gave him an inch, he’d take a mile.

“What did I make you question, Josie?”

It was equally clear that he wasn’t going to back down.

“What that collar signified,” she said, finally relenting.

“What do you mean by that?” he prompted gently.

She blew out a deep breath. “The things you said, what the collar meant to you and what it
should
mean to me. I realized that. After. I thought about it a lot. And when I went to see Michael to find out what that collar meant to him, he didn’t even notice I wasn’t wearing it. Now, maybe I’m wrong, but I’d think a man wouldn’t like the fact that a woman took the collar off. I mean if it’s supposed to mean everything you implied.”

“You’re not wrong,” Ash said.

“It’s a game for him. Maybe it was for me too,” she whispered. “He told me I was taking things too seriously. That the collar was fun, but meaningless. It’s like he was role-playing and none of it was real. And when I realized that, I also recognized that I didn’t want a game. But at the same time, I don’t know if I want it to be real. I think . . . with you . . . that it would be very different. With a man like you, I mean.”

“It’s not meaningless,” Ash growled, his face drawn into a scowl. “And hell yes it would be different with me. But you know what? It would be real. And it would mean something.”

“What would it mean?” she asked, her lips trembling as she stared back at the intensity in his eyes.

“It would mean you belong to me. Only to me. That you would submit to me. That I’d take care of you, provide for you, make love to you.”

He could have no idea the effect his words had. That they reached deep inside her and called to a part of her she hadn’t known existed. With Michael, it had been a game. She could see that now. Two people playacting. Going through the motions for a thrill. There was nothing wrong with that, but it wasn’t what she wanted.

But the thought of being with Ash, of belonging to him in the sense he was talking about, scared her. He was overwhelming in every sense of the word.

“I think you know I want you, Josie. I certainly haven’t made it a secret. The question is whether or not you want me and what I can give you. But you also need to think about all I would take. Because I take a lot. I give more, but I take everything.”

She swallowed, her hands trembling beneath his. He curled his fingers tighter around her hands and squeezed gently.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll think about it,” he murmured. “At least give me that.”

She licked her lips, her chest rising and falling with her rapid breaths. Saying she’d think about it wasn’t a commitment. There was nothing to say that she had to go through with anything. And she did need time to consider what she was getting herself into.

“I’ll think about it,” she finally conceded.

Satisfaction, no,
triumph
gleamed brightly in his eyes. He acted as though she’d already agreed. Maybe he thought she had by saying she’d think about it. Or maybe he just didn’t like taking no for an answer.

The waiter returned bearing their entrees. Ash quieted until the plates had been served and the waiter retreated.

“Now, tell me more about you. You’re an artist, obviously.”

She nodded, not even tasting the food she put in her mouth. The steak smelled delicious and was so tender she could cut it with her fork. But the moment she put it on her tongue, the taste didn’t register. She was too preoccupied with Ash, and the proposition he’d put before her.

“Are you able to make a living at it?” he asked.

It was a personal question, but then Ash didn’t seem the sort of man who worried too much about propriety or boundaries.

“More so now,” she said ruefully. “I’ve been able to make it. It’s not always easy. But I’ve tried regular nine-to-five jobs. I don’t have a passion for it. Not like I do for my art. I’ve sold a few pieces here and there and I design jewelry and sell it over the Internet. I make enough to pay my rent. Most times,” she added with a grimace. “This month was lean for me. Internet orders, which are usually steady, were down and I hadn’t sold any of the art I display in a gallery in the last six weeks. That’s why I went to the pawnshop to sell my mother’s jewelry. I hated it, but I didn’t see another way of paying my bills. I could have gotten a loan, but that doesn’t do me any good if I don’t have the money to pay it and the interest off.”

“Where the hell was Michael in all of this?” Ash demanded.

She blinked at the ferocity in his gaze, the anger she saw brimming in his eyes.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

Ash’s lips twitched in annoyance. “You were having financial trouble, which forced you to choose between selling your mother’s jewelry, something that obviously means a lot to you, or not being able to pay your rent and ending up without a place to live. Michael should have helped you.”

She shook her head. “No. It’s not like that. I don’t want him to support me. He makes good money, but our relationship wasn’t about that. I couldn’t take money from him. It would be too much like he was paying me for sex.”

Ash looked even more annoyed. “You have some fucked-up reasoning, Josie. If it was a choice between you being on the streets or taking money from a man who damn well should have protected you better then there’s no question that he should have provided for you. You shouldn’t have had to ask. If he was involved with you, if he was your Dom and he knew what he should about you then he would have known that you were in trouble. He should have known you were in a fucking pawnshop hocking jewelry to make ends meet. And he damn sure should have stepped in and taken care of you. If he treated you like he was supposed to, you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable with him helping you. You should have complete trust in the man you’ve given yourself to. And he should cherish that gift by making sure you have no worries, financial or otherwise.”

“Guess I never looked at it that way,” she murmured.

“You will,” he said.

The determination in his voice made her go still. He was so sure of himself. Of her. Of there being an eventual “us.”

“How is your food?” he asked, shifting the conversation in a completely different direction.

She stared down at her plate, realizing the steak was halffinished and she had no memory of eating what was gone.

“It’s good,” she said quickly. “Excellent actually. I’ve never eaten here before. It’s too rich for my blood. What made you choose it?”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “I own the hotel, so it’s only natural that I’d have a restaurant in it that I love to eat at. I’m glad the steak was to your liking.”

Her jaw went slack. “You own this hotel?”

His eyebrow went up. “You sound surprised. I told you that my partners and I own several hotels.”

“I guess I thought you meant like a hotel chain or something small. This hotel is . . .” She grasped for the right word to keep from sounding like a complete moron.