Prove Me Wrong (8 page)

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Authors: Gemma Hart

BOOK: Prove Me Wrong
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Chapter
Nine
Clara

              “Miss Daniels, I’m a huge fan.”

              I froze. My entire body turned into a block of ice as that deep, confident voice hit me.

              It couldn’t possibly be.

              There was no way.

              And yet it was unmistakable. As hard as I had been trying for the last year to forget about this man, his touch, his voice always filled my dreams late at night. I woke up to the echoes of that deep, rich voice.

              And I was positive that I had just heard that voice spoken to me in the present world. Right now. In real life.

              Oh my god.

              Slowly, I turned around.

              And if there was a way to see your nightmare and your forbidden desire all in one body, that was what Jonah Lowell looked like.

              Dressed in a light gray suit with a casually unbuttoned white shirt, he looked urbane and sophisticated. The light suit only highlighted the darkness of his skin and thick hair.

              Looking up, I had forgotten just how tall the man really was. My head barely brushed his shoulders. Standing behind some of the middle aged buyers that had been chatting me up, he looked as tall and broad as a Greek god.

              And just as imposing.

              What was he even doing here?

              God, the sheer power and danger that radiated off this man was incredible. You could see the way it affected every single person in the room. There was no way anyone could doubt the stories of his sexual escapades. The man just needed to look at a woman before she crumbled before him.

              At that thought, I straightened myself up. Hell no was I going to let myself be that kind of woman again.

              I had learned my lesson once. And it had been excruciating.

              I wasn’t going to waste that pain and be stupid again.

              Some of the buyers deferentially made way for Jonah once they had seen who it was.

              I noticed Brenda immediately stand straighter, recognizing who this man was.

              “Mr. Lowell!” she said in a surprised but welcoming voice. Clearly, she had her eyes set on the best buyer. But I was starting to reconsider just how successful I wanted to be in New York.

              If it meant working with the man who had broken my heart and publicly humiliated me, I was more than glad to spend the rest of my as a second rate designer.

              “Your work is quite remarkable,” Jonah said, his dark eyes gleaming with a knowing look. He seemed to be looking me over carefully, studying me.

             
Probably to try and see if he could take another crack at me for shits and giggles,
I thought darkly even though my skin was heating up under his gaze.

              “Thank you,” I said frostily in a clipped voice.

              Brenda stepped up next to me, extending her hand. “Mr. Lowell,” she said with a dazzling smile, “I didn’t expect you’d be coming to this event yourself. Normally I’m always chatting the ear off David Hurwich.”

              Jonah looked over at Brenda. Even though his gaze wasn’t directed at me, I felt my breath hitch at the power of it. God, how did the man just exude so much confidence? His natural movements spoke as if he owned whatever building he was in.

              That brought me up short. He was Jonah Lowell, the billionaire. He probably
did
own most of the buildings he found himself in.

              “I thought I’d give Dave the day off today,” Jonah said, giving Brenda a charming smile. “So I’m afraid the designers will have to just make do with me.”

              Brenda laughed. “I’m sure they won’t mind,” she said, giving him a professional smile that said,
I’m here to do some serious business with you. I’m ready when you are.

              But that was the last, absolute
last
, thing I wanted her to do. I wanted
no
part of any kind of business that was remotely related to Jonah Lowell.

              And just what was the man doing here anyway? Didn’t DXC Global mostly do real estate? What was he doing here in a home goods event?

              I noticed in a panic that the other buyers who had initially approached us were beginning to drop away, clearly intimidated by the likes of Jonah Lowell. Without other people to buffer myself with, I would have no choice than to speak with the man who had humiliated and devastated me.

              How many months had I spent working my ass off to forget this man? And now I felt all of that work begin to crumble in seconds as I faced off with Jonah.

              “Shouldn’t we introduce ourselves to the other buyers?” I murmured quietly to Brenda. I avoided Jonah’s gaze. “Didn’t you want me to meet Henry Turner from Pitter Home Goods?”

              Brenda gave me a discreet jab with her elbow and looked at me with furrowed brows. I didn’t have to look to know that an amused smile was twitching against Jonah’s lips, damn him.

              “Henry can wait,” she said through a smile, clearly not wanting to offend Jonah. “After all, the person I most wanted you to meet was the buyer from the ever illustrious Losel Goods. But look how lucky we are! We got their CEO instead!”

              Brenda grinned at Jonah and gave a sparkling laugh that I knew she had perfected for exactly this kind of business scenario. Brenda was a pro. There was a reason why her small roster of clients were so successful.

              I slowly turned towards Jonah in absolute horror. This couldn’t be happening.

              “
You’re
…the CEO of Losel?” I asked breathlessly.

              Jonah seemed to be enjoying my shock. He raised a brow at me. “Should I be offended you look so shocked?” he asked, his voice clearly teasing. “I assure you, Miss Daniels, I’m quite the competent businessman.”

              Brenda laughed again but I felt the oxygen leaving my lungs in one great swoosh.

              “But, but,” I stuttered like a moron. “But you run DXC. You don’t work in furniture.”

              I know I sounded like an idiot but I was too shocked to do more than state short facts.

              Brenda squeezed my hand, clearly worried I was coming off too rude. “Hon, Mr. Lowell here
owns
Losel, among many other companies. DXC Global is a vast empire.”

              “I appreciate your vouching for my credentials, Ms. Carlisle,” Jonah said dryly. “I wouldn’t want Miss Daniels to think I was wasting her time.”

              “Oh no!” Brenda cried out. “Definitely not! She’s been looking forward to speaking with Losel Goods for weeks now. Haven’t you?”

              She looked at me expectantly.

              I felt my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth. Yes, I had been excited to meet the representative of Losel Goods. After all, I had assumed a contract with them would mean I had reached the ultimate level of success.

              But now, knowing that Jonah owned Losel Goods, I wanted to swallow every nice thing I had ever said about the company. Now it felt as if every compliment I paid to the company was tantamount to paying the compliment to Jonah Lowell.

              And I definitely didn’t feel like complimenting the man on anything, regardless of what it did to my future.

              “I’ve been excited for this event,” I said evasively. “It’s a good opportunity to meet
all
the buyers in one place.”

              I saw Jonah’s lips twitch in amusement as I placed emphasis on the word ‘all,’ meaning, I was not solely interested in just him.

              I felt a rush of heat spill down my spine as he leveled his dark gaze on me. I remembered that look. God, I remembered it well. It was the look he gave me before he pulled my panties down and buried his mouth or his cock into me. It was the look that made my toes curl and my back arch.

             
Fuck.

              I was furious at Jonah Lowell. I would gladly tie him to the tracks of the L train and watch as he was squished into a red glob as the train passed over him.

              And yet…my body remembered his gaze, his touch, his cock. And dammit all, my body still responded the same way.

              I watched as amusement and something darker flicked across Jonah’s eyes.

              Without removing his gaze from me, he asked Brenda, “Are you attending the Devons Design Awards dinner?”

              Brenda’s eyes widened in surprise at the sudden question. Devons Design Awards was the yearly dinner ceremony where a few select furniture and architect designers were recognized and awarded a prize for their contribution to the design community.

              It was a highly exclusive event with celebrities present to support their favorite designers and paparazzi to cover the red carpet. Only the absolute elite were invited to the dinner.

              Of course someone like Jonah Lowell would be invited.

              But Brenda and I were much too small time to even think about attending such an event.

              “Well, no,” Brenda said slowly, clearly not wanting to say aloud that we hadn’t even been invited. “We have several meetings lined up for Clara this week and I wasn’t sure we’d have time to attend the dinner.”

              It was a lame excuse. Designers would kill to be at the Devons dinner. But Brenda had her pride and she wasn’t about to let on that she or I were too unknown for the event.

              Jonah pursed his lips then turned a charming smile onto Brenda. “I completely understand,” he said, his low voice deep and commanding. “With a designer as talented like Miss Daniels, I’m sure she is keeping you busy with all the interested buyers coming after her.” He gave me a sidelong look that shot straight down to a traitorous wetness between my legs. “But if you can try to make some time for her, I have a plus one for the dinner and would very much enjoy escorting Miss Daniels to the event.”

              Brenda’s eyes widened. The Devons Design Awards would be the ultimate exposure. Attending that event would thrust me and my name out into the limelight, giving me an even better shot at attracting top notch buyers.

              “Of course!” she said.

              “No!” I said, at the same time.

              Brenda gave me a surprised look that was undercut with a glare of warning. This was a huge chance.
Don’t blow it!
her eyes said.

              But I didn’t care. A whole night alone with Jonah Lowell? No way.

              Sure, I had thought I was over him. After all, I had spent a whole year pushing the memories of him down the drain. But standing here, face to face with him, I realized I had just been deluding myself.

              I was no match for him.

              But there was no way I could explain any of this to Brenda. So I just stood there, looking at her with the wide eyed blank look of a goldfish.

              “
Of course
she’ll attend,” Brenda said firmly, eyeing me in case I protested again. I wanted to but just didn’t know how. This whole event had gotten so out of control. “She would absolutely love to.”

              Jonah gave me a wry smile as he looked over my gaping and slightly horrified expression.

              “I’m glad,” he said, piercing me with that dark gaze. “I’m looking forward to being your date for the evening, Miss Daniels.”

              I swallowed.

             
Oh god.

             

Chapter
Ten
Jonah

              I checked my phone again and saw the notification from the driver. They were on their way and on time.

              Good.

              I looked up at my own driver as he smoothly drove down the busy street towards the Lincoln Center.

              I pulled a little at my cuff and couldn’t help but smile as I looked down at my phone.

              Originally, I had wanted to pick up Clara from her place but I had been sidelined by work. Lately, Martin had been making some outlandish overtures with DXC Global. Since partnering with Lowell Enterprises, I’ve noticed Martin’s more erratic business practices.

              I had to stay a little later to ensure that the company would still be standing when I returned the next day.

              So I had sent a car to Clara’s place to pick her up so we could meet at the event.

              I had texted her to let her know when to expect the car. As expected, the woman had no shortage of sass, even through texts.

             
I’ve arranged for a car to be sent for you by 8 PM. It’ll be a black sedan. I’m sorry I couldn’t come to pick you up personally. But I’m looking forward to seeing you at the dinner. –
Jonah

             
I won’t need a car. I can get there myself. –
Clara

             
I’m afraid once a car has been arranged, it’s been arranged. Now only the hand of God could change that. So I’d suggest you avoid divine intervention and make use of the car. –
Jonah

             
God wouldn’t touch you or anything you own with a ten foot pole. And how did you get my number? –
Clara

             
You gave it to me, remember? A year ago. –
Jonah

             
Well, that’s one mistake I can kick myself for. Anyway, I’ll see you at the event. Stop texting me. –
Clara

             
Don’t forget the car. Black sedan. –
Jonah

             
Stop. Texting. –
Clara

             
It’ll be there at 8 PM. –
Jonah

             
STOP.
– Clara

             
I’m looking forward to tonight. –
Jonah

              Clara had stopped replying then, a clear indication of her annoyance. I grinned.

              I knew this was dangerous territory to be walking on. Really, I should be shaking the shit out of myself, asking,
what the fuck do you think you are doing?

              I wasn’t an idiot. I knew I had hurt her. Terribly. I had meant to. I wanted to make sure that she knew in no uncertain terms the fucked up-ness of Jonah Lowell. I wanted to make sure that she forgot me and threw away my memories so she could move on and find someone more worthy of her.

              And in regards to me, none of it had changed. I still was an asshole. Only an asshole would text and tease a girl he had trampled on just a year ago.

              But even still, inside I knew it wasn’t just asshole behavior that was drawing me to Clara.

              There was something more. Something genuine. Something real.

              Before Clara had walked through those doors at the Aarons Building, I would’ve said there would be no way I would ever talk to Clara again. I wanted better things for her and it would be selfish to just give in to my basic needs.

              Before Clara had walked through those doors, I knew—
knew
—I would never see her again. I would never talk to her again. She belonged to a different world and I couldn’t touch it. And I wouldn’t touch it. For her sake.

              But as soon as Clara walked through those doors, all of those feelings had disappeared like a puff of smoke.

              For a year, I had told myself that the feelings I had had for Clara, the nights we had spent together, were just intense infatuation. It was lust for something different and new. Clara was sweet and unspoiled, so different from most of the women I met in New York. That was why I wanted her. That was the only reason.

              Except it wasn’t.

              And that became clear the moment she walked into that buyers event. Catching sight of her simple beauty, it all came rushing back to me. That intense, almost gut aching need for her hit my stomach like a blow. My hands twitched to touch her soft skin, her silky hair. And my chest tightened as I remembered just how much I loved being with her, by her side.              

              But if I wanted to be a decent man for once in my life, I had to stay away from her.

              I snorted as I looked out the tinted car window.

              But when was I ever a decent man?

              Vanessa’s voice still rang in my head the week I had returned from Vermont.

              Standing in my apartment, she had her hands on her slim hips, her eyes narrowed at me in a vicious gaze.

              “What the fuck are you talking about?” she had demanded. “We’re
engaged.
You can’t just break up with me.”

              I poured myself a drink from my bar, my back to her. “Why not?” I said without rancor. I just wanted her to get the fuck out. “Engagements get broken all the time.”

              I turned around and saw Vanessa’s sharp cheekbones begin to flush an angry red. “Well, they don’t get broken with
me
, Jonah Lowell,” she said with solid certainty. “I’m not one of those floozy models you’ve thrown away by the dozen. Or the Hollywood actresses you fuck and forget.
I’m
a Winters. My father owns half of New York!”

              “And I own the other half,” I said calmly. “And let me tell you, I have the more valuable half. But none of that means shit right now. The engagement’s off. Do with it what you will but I’m not getting fucking married.”             

              Vanessa stared at me. There was a beat of silence where we just stood, regarding each other. Her in anger and me in complete dispassion.

              “Is it the girl?” she asked suddenly. “Is it the little shop girl from Vermont?”

              I jerked in surprise at the question. It felt odd and uncomfortable to have Vanessa refer to Clara. She wasn’t pure. I wasn’t pure. Neither of us should be allowed to say Clara’s name.

              “No,” I said simply, staring at her coolly over my whiskey glass. “It’s you. We’re not a match and I don’t want to fucking pretend we are anymore. Tell the papers
you
blew off the engagement, if you want. I’ll do my best to look heartbroken in front of the press.” I took a sip of my drink. “You’re reputation will be safe.”

              Vanessa gave a cold laugh and shook her head, letting her dark hair fly back.

              “Baby,” she said darkly, “don’t you worry about
my
reputation.” She took slow steps towards me till she was standing only a breath away. She ran her hands down my thighs, lightly raking her nails against me.

              “You’re going to regret this,” she said in a soft voice against my cheek. “You don’t play me like some cheap whore and get away with it.” She lightly kissed me against my ear. “You’re going to regret this.”

              When she pulled away, I looked at her coldly. Her touch brought nothing out of me and her penchant for the dramatics was beginning to get old real fast. I had just had to tear the heart out of probably the only girl who had thought me worth anything more than my money. I wasn’t in the mood for Vanessa’s silly games.

              I gave her nothing. When she saw my lack of reaction, her eyes sharpened in anger and her lips tightened but she pulled away. She grabbed her purse and marched out the door, slamming it hard in her wake.

              I sighed, relieved to have her gone.

              Leaning back in the car now, I sighed again. That had been nearly a year ago. Vanessa, true to form, had made sure she told every publication that
she
had broken off the engagement. When interviewed directly, she had said in an elegant manner that she just found that she wasn’t ready for marriage.

              But through side sources and friends, she made sure stories of Jonah Lowell’s impotence or tiny dick were leaked to trash magazines. She wanted to make sure I was smeared everywhere.

              Like I gave a fuck.

              The press had a field day for about a week and then gave up when I had no comment to make. It was boring when the attacks were only one sided. So even in her revenge, Vanessa had been foiled.

              I’m sure she was pissed about that as well.

              Well, add it to my tab of women I had pissed off over my lifetime.

              The car pulled up smoothly into the line up of cars that were waiting to drop off their illustrious cargo at the head of the red carpet.

              We were here.

              Of all the women I had hurt, there was only one I regretted. Only one that I wanted to rectify. Only one that I wanted to hold again.

              I was playing with fire here. I knew it. There was no guarantee that I wouldn’t break Clara’s heart again, intentional or not. I just had a knack for such things.

              So I had to remember to keep a little distance. Be a little aloof.

              I looked out my window and saw the car ahead of me open the back seat door. A vision of deep purple exited the car.

              The deep purple dress hugged her body like a glove. The dark color emphasized the creaminess of her skin. She looked like a delicate dessert. Her silky honey blonde hair was tossed up in a chic chignon that left her neck tantalizingly bare.

              My biceps flexed instinctively upon seeing her. I wanted to grab her and hold her to me.

             
Keep a little distance,
my brain reminded me. Use this night to help promote her. Focus on the professional aspects of the evening.

              But I knew my body wasn’t listening. It was already humming for her.

              For Clara.

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