Mine Until Morning (4 page)

DANI SHOT TO HER FEET AND YANKED THE SCREEN DOOR SO HARD it slammed back against the wall, the window next to it shuddering in its frame. How dare he judge Kern this way? Mac had no idea how all the bad things had snowballed so quickly. She grabbed the stack of bills, inches thick, and banged back out the door. Slapping the wad of papers down on the table in front of him, she stabbed the pile with her finger so hard it hurt. “That’s why.”

He picked up the first one, his eyes widening. Then he read another and another, finally looking up at her. “How much?”

Her chest was so tight, she couldn’t breathe. Her throat was clogged and her eyes ached from unshed tears. But she would not let him see her cry. She’d done that once, never again. “More than a hundred thousand.”

He stared at the statement in his hand, a breath in, a breath out. “Holy shit.”

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Dani collapsed into her chair, grabbed her mug because she had to have something to hold on to or scream. This was exactly what Kern had feared, that Mac would judge them and find them irresponsible and stupid. She’d tried to tell Kern his brother would never do that. Yet Mac had, just as Kern said he would.

“What about medical insurance?” he asked.

“We had a shitty plan that didn’t cover a lot of stuff.” She covered her mouth. She’d brought hospice in, trying to believe it was because Kern wanted to die at home in his own bedroom with her and Mac to watch over him, but the truth was, she could not pay for a hospital room. She’d cremated him because she couldn’t afford a casket or a plot. Oh God, what had she done?

“He should have come to me. I would have given him the money. He shouldn’t have made you do this.”

She sniffed and told herself it was not because she was crying. Then she heard him, actually heard what he was saying, felt it deep inside. “Kern never made me do anything. It was my idea to work for Isabel.”

He stared at her as if he couldn’t even entertain the idea, as if it were easier to think his brother would sell his wife.

She remembered his words. What the fuck, Dani? Yeah, what the fuck. It didn’t matter what he thought of her. The truth was better than letting him believe Kern was some sort of sick monster.

“We used Courtesans as clients first. Before everything went to hell.” It was almost a relief, to finally tell someone.

“He wanted other women?”

She smiled, really she did. Because he just couldn’t seem to fathom it. “I was always more hot-blooded than Kern.”

“You?” The word came out of him almost without a sound. She reveled in shocking him. In making him see her as a person, a woman. A very sexual woman. “Yes,” she enunciated. “Me. He couldn’t keep up with me.”

She wanted to laugh when his eyes widened. “I have a very strong sex drive. And Kern liked to watch.”

God, yes, it was starting to be fun. She’d never seen McKinley Dawson at a loss for words, and it felt better than anything had in a long time. He was so in control of every situation, always the answer man, always making the right decision. Which was why Kern had never wanted to tell him.

“In fact,” she went on, “Kern liked to watch more than actually do.” Yes, she 25

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was being a bitch, but whatever. It was cleansing. “Isabel helped us find men who liked that. It’s called the cuckold scenario.” She leaned in for emphasis.

“And afterward, he and I had the best sex of our marriage.”

Mac cleared his throat, then swallowed.

TMI? Oh yeah, way too much information for Mac. He looked shell-shocked. She had the feeling he was as in control in the bedroom as he was in the office. No funny business, strictly by the book.

“It was good for us,” she told him. “Perfect for us. Kern always dealt with Isabel, picked the partners, interviewed them beforehand.” She laughed a little too harshly, her eyes smarting at the memories of the fun they’d had, the fun they’d never have again. “He had this whole rating system.” Doable, suckable, and oh yeah, baby, you’d swallow for him. Okay, she wouldn’t tell Mac that one.

“If he hadn’t gotten sick, we’d still be—” She closed her eyes a moment against the deep thrust of pain. Her momentary sense of triumph fled in a flash. “When we couldn’t cover all the medical bills and even the mortgage was in danger, I told him I wanted to become a courtesan. It worked exactly the same except that I got paid instead of us doing the paying.” Which meant they could indulge far more than occasionally.

For the first time, Mac spoke. “So he arranged everything, went along to watch, right up until he was too sick to get out of bed?” His face lacked expression, his tone even, but his hands on the armrests of the chair flexed, fisted, flexed again.

She felt suddenly sick that she’d said so much. She’d gotten carried away. Her emotions had been bouncing to hell and back for weeks now. That didn’t end with Kern’s passing. “He stopped before that, when he didn’t have the energy to leave the house. He still wanted to speak to the clients on the phone, though, and he and Isabel always talked for a long time. He made me call him before, during, and after to make sure everything was okay.” He’d wanted to hear every detail, too, even when he was too tired to do anything about it. It was part of their ritual.

Hands fisted, hands open, a tick along his jaw, then finally Mac spoke. “And he never got jealous?”

“No.” Emotionally, they’d seemed closer than ever before.

“At the end, when you went out for groceries or to get a breath of fresh air, were you doing . . . it?” His jaw tensed, and she could swear she heard the 26

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grinding of his teeth.

He thought she was out fucking other men while her husband lay dying, and that was all he saw. “When Kern started to go downhill fast, a few weeks before we brought in hospice, I stopped doing it. Right then, it was more important to be with him than to pay the bills.”

He rose suddenly, the metal feet of the chair screeching across the concrete. Pacing to the edge of the patio, his back to her, he shoved both hands through his hair, and stood that way a long moment, his muscles rigid. They’d been close for two weeks as Kern drifted nearer to death. She hadn’t expected that connection to last. But she hadn’t wanted it to end with Mac hating her, either.

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4

ANGER, GUILT, DOUBT, AND DESIRE CONSUMED HIM. HE WAS SO

goddamned pissed at Kern. His brother had practically shut him out of his life. Mac had known nothing about Kern’s business problems. Now that he thought of it, they hadn’t even told him Kern was ill until he’d started losing weight with the cancer treatments. Until it was obvious something was wrong. God, the medical bills. Kern must have been terrified thinking about it all, yet not a word. Mac had to face that he hadn’t known his brother at all. Kern hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him anything, yet Mac wondered if he’d even earned the trust. Had he always been I-told-you-so and you-shouldn’t? Yeah, he had. But Jesus, voyeurism, kinky sex, Courtesans, sending his wife out on dates. He couldn’t comprehend watching your wife with another man. He couldn’t imagine letting someone else touch Dani if she were his. When he turned to her, God help him, he imagined her naked. On a bed. Her lips around his cock. Try as he might, he couldn’t erase the images her confession evoked. She was too hot-blooded for Kern. She loved sex. She loved men, enjoyed having Kern watch, telling him all the naughty details. Mac wanted her with an intensity that burned. She’d pried open his eyes with her story. He couldn’t shut them again. It was like going from zero to a hundred in one second flat. One moment she was Kern’s wife; the next, she was a courtesan he’d pay anything to have. Despite his anger and guilt. With his emotions roiling inside, he suddenly understood Kern’s deathbed guilt and mixed feelings. It seemed Kern had thrived on all the kinkiness, yet it had become the rope around his neck choking him. He’d created the financial problems, then sent his wife out to solve them. In dying, he could no longer take care of her, yet he’d known she’d have to continue. Kern was right—he’d fucked up badly. And he’d wanted Mac to fix it for him. Mac should have seen it right away, but it was still like a sledgehammer to the chest. “Holy shit, that’s what he wanted.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Kern wanted me to take care of you. The way he did. To make the arrangements, interview your clients, have you check in, make sure you were safe.”

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She shook her head, her hair brushing her shoulders, the sun shining through the auburn strands. “He wouldn’t do that.”

He stood over her. “That’s exactly what he did.”

She’d been Kern’s wife, but the revelations had sexualized her. She was no longer off-limits. By extracting the promise to take care of her, Kern had given permission. As if he were passing the torch.

She gaped at him. “But that’s crazy.”

He grabbed Kern’s phone off the table and damn near shoved it in her face.

“He asked me to call Isabel. If that’s not what he wanted, you find another explanation that works.”

She stared at the phone, swallowed. He knew she didn’t have an answer. But did he have one? Would he actually become a part of this weird, kinky scheme?

“I could give you the money,” he said.

She jerked her head up. “I’ve already got enough debt.” She didn’t say it, but he understood. She didn’t want to be in debt to him. “But thanks,” she added belatedly.

Still, he pushed. “I didn’t say loan. I said give.”

She shook her head, fast, adamant. “No. Absolutely not. This is my problem and I will take care of it.”

“So you’d rather sell yourself.” His voice was hard. She glared at him. “Kern was right. You are judgmental. He said you wouldn’t understand, that you were too high and mighty.”

Her words hit him like a jab to his vitals. He’d never wanted to come off that way to his brother. But Christ, the truth was in her anger. She leaned forward, chin tilted up to him, and slapped her hand to her chest.

“I enjoyed it all. Kern loved it. It worked for us.”

He turned, threw the phone back on the table, where it skittered to the far edge. He paced like a man who couldn’t run away from his own thoughts. Who was he to judge the rules of their marriage right or wrong? It wasn’t as if he had some great relationship to hold up as a shining example. He’d never married, never even come close. He’d done some kinky things himself. Some goddamn kinky things, more than one woman, sharing with another man, a sex club. Yeah, he’d mostly watched there, too. A voyeur, just like Kern. Stopping in front of her again, he shoved his suit jacket aside, planting his 29

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hands on his hips. “Maybe it did work for you two,” he said. “But at the end, he realized he couldn’t leave you unprotected. He wanted someone to take care of you the way he did.”

“That’s what he wanted.” She glared at him. “But I never asked for it.”

Mac leaned down. “Maybe you don’t have a choice anymore.”

Jesus. He was going to do it.

MAC STRETCHED ACROSS THE TABLE AND GRABBED KERN’S PHONE. “Call Isabel and give her your permission to talk to me.”

Dani stared at the phone as if it were a huge hairy spider. Dammit, Kern hadn’t taken care of her. All his arranging and checking was part of the kick. Why had he thought he needed to involve Mac? She could manage this herself.

She put her fingers to her temples. “I have to think.”

Mac sat. Thank God. She hadn’t appreciated him standing over her like some avenging angel. “There’s nothing to think about,” he said with that arrogant, autocratic tone. “Either call Isabel or take the money I’m offering.”

“Don’t order me, Mac.”

He sat back, tipped his head slightly, regarding her with a slim smile. “I misjudged your entire marriage, didn’t I? You wore the pants the whole time.”

No, she hadn’t. If she’d been completely in charge, she wouldn’t have quit her job or bought into Kern’s dream. She’d let herself become dependent, and it had all gone wrong. She would not let that happen again. She would not take Mac’s money. She would not depend on a man.

“You did misjudge. But not all the mistakes were his.” She dipped her head.

“Some were mine, too.”

“Thanks for your honesty.” He waited a beat. “But I’m still going to take over your dating arrangements.”

She almost laughed, it was such a diplomatic way of putting it. Typical CEO

rhetoric—never call it what it is. “Why?”

“Because I want to.”

She had no clue what that meant. Guilt over a deathbed promise? God. She was talking sex with Mac. The worst, though, was the hungry voice inside her whispering yes, yes, yes.

Her husband wasn’t dead a month, but God help her, if she was going to do 30

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this, sleep with men for money, she wanted the kick that went with it. She’d always been able to divorce sex from love. She was more like a man in that respect. If she hadn’t been, the Courtesans thing with Kern would never have worked. But that didn’t mean the connection wasn’t important. It was Kern egging her on that made it so hot, gave it that something extra. It was inconceivable, almost terrifying, but now the primitive, sexual part of her brain wanted that connection with Mac. It was already there emotionally, had been since those terrible weeks when Kern was so ill.