Dirty Beautiful Rich Part Five (2 page)

              Alanna turned. “Hello.”

              Julie nodded and made herself smile in greeting. “I heard. . . I heard . . .”

              “Damian is here,
”
Alanna confirmed.

              Julie couldn’t stop the nerve-wracking joy that caused her to grin. “Where?”

              “Out. He went for a long walk.”

              “With Margaret?
”
Julie asked.

              “No. Margaret is in the stables.”

              Julie hesitated. She couldn’t just go after him. The estate was massive. She could walk for hours and just miss him or never even get close.

              Alanna stopped fiddling with the flowers and turned. “Julie?”

              “Yes?”
            
 
“I’m glad he’s come back. I’m glad he and I. . .
”
Alanna’s blue eyes softened. “But don’t. . . Don’t think that this means. . .”

              Julie nodded. She didn’t need to hear that Damian wouldn’t change again. She was over that.  “It’s okay.”

              “You t-old him the truth,
”
Alanna said, her voice breaking.

              Julie frowned, feeling that ounce again she was in foreign waters. “I beg your pardon?”

              “That he’s broken.”

              Julie winced, struggling to believe Damian had shared that particular things with his mother. “I did. It was cruel of me.”

              “No, it wasn’t,
”
Allana let out a shaking breath. “You made him face it. That’s love.”

              Julie’s throat tightened. His own mother was saying that she loved him. That to confront him about the past was an act of love. Julie wiped the tears from her eyes before they could start.

              “God, is it?
”
she asked.

              “Maybe he can get help now,
”
Alanna whispered.

              Julie nodded. “That’s what I’m hoping.”

              Alanna drew in a long breath. “I- I don’t want him to be like his father. Unable to reach out.”

              Julie’s stomach twisted into a knot. It had never occurred to her that Damian might be anything like his father. “Alanna. . .”

              Alanna raised a hand. “No, Julie. It’s all right.”
            
 
All Julie’s hope and excitement started to fade. It was so easy to simplify things. Fion had made things simple. But in one quick exchange of words, Alanna had reminded her that things were not always as easy as people wanted them to be.

              “Damian isn’t going to ever be like that,
”
Julie said tightly.

              Alanna cleared her throat. “Like what, dear?”

              “S-suicidal.”
            
 
Alanna nodded, but there was a brittleness to it. “Of course not.”

              Suddenly, Julie began to think about the similarities between Damian’s dad and himself.

              Damian didn’t share his feelings. He ran when things got too personal. He couldn’t reach out for help. Isn’t that exactly what Damian’s father had done? Sure, the old earl had drunk himself out of his own mind, but Damian’s rigid self-control was actually a similar type of neurosis.

              “Alanna,
”
Julie said, squaring her shoulders against the fear. “We’re not going to let that happen to him.”

              Alanna stilled, her chest rising up and down quickly. “Ultimately, dear girl, we can’t control anything Damian does. Before you go any further today, before you run to him, and act like a schoolgirl, I need you to acknowledge that. Otherwise, you will throw yourself down a very dark hole. One that is almost impossible to come back from. We can help my son if he wishes it but only then. Do you understand?”

              Jesus.

              Julie stared at Alanna and wanted to emphatically reject what she was saying. But wasn’t what she was saying exactly why she’d sent Damian away out side the club?

              It suddenly occurred to her that they were all so mired in something very toxic and coming out of it was going to be damned hard and take a long time. “Alanna, have you ever gone to counseling?”

              Alanna blinked. “Counseling?”

              “Yes.”

              “My dear. We don’t do such things.”

              It was an old attitude but one Julie was familiar with. “If Damian asked you to go with him, would you?”

              Alanna was silent, her eyes betraying nothing then finally she said, “Yes.”

              Julie started to smile, her heart feeling a degree of lightness after the dark exchange.

              “But he never will ask,
”
Alanna said softly before going to the stairs and leaving Julie standing alone in the foyer. “Not my proud, darling son.”

Chapter 3

              The sound of female laughter met Damian as he entered the castle.  For a brief moment, he couldn’t breath.

              Julie.

              He yanked off his mud crusted boots and stuffed his feet into the Italian loafers he’d left by the back door.

              The old Damian would have gone upstairs, showered and changed, putting on the armor of silk clothes and expensive cologne. Today, he was going as was. He didn’t want to wear armor with Julie anymore.

              As he neared the sound of the laughter, he realized the voices were coming from the library.

              And the loudest laugh was his grandmother’s, whose laugh really was distinctive and incredibly loud.

              But he hadn’t heard that laugh in ages.

              He paused at the door, wondering if he should intrude or leave them be.

              “Damian,
”
his grandmother called loudly. “Don’t linger in the doorway.”

              He let out a sigh. He really did wonder how she managed that. One day, he’d get her to tell him.

              Bracing himself, he entered the library and spotted the women down toward the far end. They were all draped over the green velvet couches before the fire. Glasses of whisky in hand.

              Except, they all seemed to be sitting a little tensely now.

              Probably because for all intents and purposes he was the enemy.             

              Usually, when he entered a group he felt completely at ease yet totally distant, in control. . . And that was because he didn’t really care. He wasn’t invested and he knew that his power almost always influenced how people viewed him

              Yet, this was Julie and her friends.

              He cared.

              It was disconcerting.

              Julie stared at him. Silent.

              God it was painful.

              The last time they’d spoken, not even forty-eight hours ago, she’d ripped his heart out and left it on a cobbled street.

              She’d been absolutely right to do so.

              That didn’t make it easier.

              He cleared his throat. “Good evening.”
            
 
“Damian,
”
his grandmother said. “Get yourself a drink. You’re terribly behind us ladies.”

              He smiled and went to the grog tray and poured out a neat whisky.

              “Good walk?
”
one of the young women said.

              He nodded. “You’re Stella, yes?”

              Tall, and rather icy, Stella nodded. “I am.”

              Kat bounced up from the couch and instead of going for his hand, she embraced him and plunked a kiss on his cheek. “Well hello, my lord.”
            
 
He found himself flummoxed. “Hello.”

              Kat wagged a finger at him. “We were supposed to meet before but you gave us the shaft, didn’t you?”

              “I beg your pardon?
”
he asked, someone off center in this whole new experience.

              “In Colorado,
”
Stella said, the opposite of Kat’s exuberant friendliness. “We were supposed to have lunch but you left and sent us all to a spa instead.”
            
 
“Ah,
”
he sighed, understanding dawning. “So, I did.”

              “We don’t regret the spa,
”
Kat said. “Only the chance to gawk at a real Irish Lord and billionaire to boot.
”
             

              “My apologies,
”
he said.

              Stella cocked her head to the side. “Why apologize when you don’t mean it?”

              He paused, struck by Stella’s aggressive protection of her friend. He admired it.

              “Stella,
”
Julie began.

              Damian shook his head. “No, Stella has a point. I wasn’t sorry that I had you alone to lunch. But I do realize that my single minded desire to have you on your own mayn’t have left your friends with the best possible opinion of me or my methods.”

              Stella rolled her eyes.

              She was going to be the devil to convince that he wasn’t an arse. Then again, he was an arse. So, maybe just acknowledging it was the only course. “Ladies, I could try to wax poetic this evening and play the charming host. Instead, I find that rather wearing. I’ve behaved abominably. I’m attempting to rectify my rather poor behavior.”

              A strange smile played at Julie’s beautiful mouth. A mouth he longed to devour with his own.
              Stella gave him a grudging nod. “Just as long as we’re on the same page. Charming is great, but a guy who doesn’t hop it to Asia is better.”

              Damian coughed and Julie went beet red.

              “What wonderful turns of phrase you do possess, Stella,
”
his grandmother drawled.

              For a moment, Stella looked chastised but then she squared her shoulders. “Thank you Lady Margaret.”

              His grandmother sighed. “Ah, the confidence of youth.”

              And then she downed the rest of her whisky. “Get me another, young woman.”

              Stella did, immediately and without question.

              He couldn’t sit. He was coiled with energy. He could only thank god he’d taken a four hour hike. If he hadn’t, he’d not have been able to stand this meeting, not with all of the women present. It would have been all he could do, not to grab Julie and whisk her up to his room, cave man style.

              As it was he was forced to remind himself frankly that she wasn’t his. It didn't matter that his very blood still seemed to hum
mine
.

              She had made it very clear that wasn’t the case. So, now it was up to him to be a damned good employer.

              “Are you enjoying your work on the history?
”
he asked, trying to sound casual. Instead, he sounded absolutely stiff.

              “Yes,
”
Julie replied. “I loved discovering the secret passages.”

              “Did you?
”
He stilled. A strange thought hit him. “What was so interesting?”

              “The oldness,
”
she replied. “The feeling of the family in the bones of the stone walls.”

              “Mmhhm.
”
He gave his grandmother a hard stare.

              Margaret quickly looked away.

              “Did you discover anything?
”
he asked softly. “A family heirloom?”

              Suddenly, Julie looked uncomfortable and she took a long swallow of her drink. “Yes.”

              “Really?
”
his hand tightened around his glass and he wanted to curse his grandmother. He’d wondered how Julie had figured it all out. Of course, he didn’t know what she actually knew. But clearly, enough to know he would never be the sunny stable knight of a man so many women longed for. “Like what?”

              She licked her lips. “Well aside, from the architecture, I found a book.”

              “A book?
”
His breathing slowed.

              “Yes.”

              “I see.
”
Suddenly, he felt cold, exposed. He eyed the women around him and wondered if they all knew. Did they all know his secret? The horror of years past? The shame? He nodded then swallowed. Except he couldn’t. His throat was closing and he felt sick. “Excuse me. . . I need. I need .
..
”

              And then he was heading for the door, desperate for cold sea air on his face and a chance to scrub the sudden memories rushing up from his brain.

              He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t act as if nothing was happening when it was clear that Julie had found his journal.

              Found? Jesus. No. His grandmother had almost certainly shoved it into her hands.

              Margaret really was a piece of work sometimes. It didn't matter how much he loved her. This time she’d gone too damned far.

              Footsteps thudded behind him.

              He paused. It was tempting to just head back out into the growing darkness but that would just make him more of an arse and a coward. He refused to be a coward. That was a route it was almost impossible to come back from. He stopped.

              Julie’s soft scent wafted toward him. “I’m sorry,
”
she said. “I shouldn’t have read it.”

              He shoved a hand through his hair. “No. You shouldn’t.”

              She winced. “I was desperate and I knew it was wrong when I did it. I did it anyway.”

              It would be so easy to be indignant, to curse her and cling to anger. That would keep him safe. . . And alone. “I guess that makes two of us.”

              She shook her head. “Two of us?”
            
 
He closed his eyes for a moment, bracing himself to be completely honest. “I felt the same when I got on the plane for Hong Kong. I knew it was wrong. I knew I was being a coward. That I was hurting you and myself.
”
He opened his eyes and leveled her with a hard stare. “I did it anyway.”

              “We’ve both acted badly.”

              “Yes.”

              “Out of fear,
”
she added.

              He ground his teeth together then admitted, “Yes.”

              “Look, I think we should take this all one step at a time.—”

              “I’m still afraid, Julie,
”
he admitted quietly.

              That silenced her.

              “I live in fear that this thing between us. . . That it’s going to destroy me and then you.”

              A strange expression crossed her face. “I never thought you’d be the type to believe in predetermination.”

              Predetermination. That stopped him. He drew in a long breath. “I didn’t either. I don’t. But. . .”

              “You’re not your father.”
            
 
“I’ve tried so hard not to be,”

              Slowly, she crossed to him then drew his hand into hers. “Stop trying. Stop worrying. Just be you. You, Damian, are enough. You can stop trying to fight what you aren’t already. Fighting it is what’s hurting you and us.”

              Her words burned him. They burned and hurt and his instinct was to shrug off her hand, shut down his feelings, and get the hell out. Instead, he pulled her to him. “Hold me?”

              She melted against him, and yet she felt so strong. This wasn’t the Julie he’d met in the Denver club. The strength that he knew was there had come full force. She had the power in her now to speak the truth and to act on it, as terrifying as that might be.

              A wave of desire washed over him. She was everything he wanted. Everything he needed. And he wanted to claim her again. To make it clear that she belonged to him and no one else.

              “I need you,
”
he growled against her ear. “Right now.”

              She pulled back. “Not yet.”

              He tensed. “What?”

              “Damian, there is nothing more that I’d like than to go up to your room right now, but that would be the worst thing for us.”

              “Indeed?
”
he drawled, knowing that he was going to have to get his intense lust in check. This was entirely foreign. When he wanted to go to bed, he was never told no. And to him, sex had always been a way to heal, to forget.

              To forget.

              That’s why she was saying no.

              “No quick fixes?
”
he asked.

              “I knew you were a terribly clever man,
”
she teased.

              He groaned. “You’re going to kill me.”

              “You’re made of sterner stuff than that Damian Fitzgerald.”
            
 
“God, I hope so.”

              “Come on.
”
She stroked his hair back from his face.  “Let’s go back and join the others.”
            
 
“Just give me a moment. I need to. . . compose myself.”
            
 
She grinned, clearly pleased that she inspired desire in him.