Broken Rules: A Stand Alone Romance Page 8

  Moonlight glimmered off a river, which came into view in the distance. It was then she saw him pull off the main road, down a narrow alleyway to what was once a thriving wharf.

  She followed, keeping her distance. He stopped in front of one of the old brick buildings. Turning off his bike, he pushed it forward, then disappeared from view. Parking, she hurried after him on foot. Along the river-walk, she passed a mill that had been made into offices and apartments and then a few others that had suffered damage in a fire years ago. It was the last derelict building into which he’d disappeared.

  She pushed against the battered door and it opened. Beam and piping covered the ceiling. The surface of the brick walls were crumbling in areas. And then she spotted a loft in the back, most of which was covered in heavy, translucent plastic through which emanated the glow of a soft light.

  Barely breathing, she tiptoed across the floor, picking her way over chards of glass and debris toward the loft. Slowly easing aside the heavy plastic, she found a ladder that was missing several rungs. With a deep breath, she climbed, carefully testing each rung before placing her full-weight on it. When she was high enough, she peered over the loft floor. There he was, in the back of a vast, stark room, sitting on a rolled-out pallet, his back against the wall, a small mug in hand while he spoke in a hushed tone on the phone.

  When he ended his call. He set the phone down on a sleek, black case. A moment later, he turned his head and they locked eyes. “Aren’t you going to come in?”

  She sucked in a sharp breath and almost lost her footing. In an instant, he appeared in front of her, reaching to help her finish her climb.

  “You knew I was following you?”

  He raised his brow at her before he began to dust the newly acquired dirt off her pants. “You have a few things to learn about moving unseen.”

  She scanned their shabby surroundings. Beside his pallet was a stack of books, a small camping stove, and the small tin mug he’d been holding. “This is not what I was picturing.”

  He held up a bottle of wine. “Would you like a glass,” he began, “or rather a cup?”

  She nodded, while her gaze scanned the lonely space.

  As he topped up the one mug, he asked, “What were you expecting?”

  She dropped her gaze and blushed. “You don’t want to know.” His run-down loft was a far cry from the swank hotel room filled with gorgeous and willing women she had imagined. Canting her head, she ran her finger down the spines of the books and stopped when she reached Wuthering Heights. “My favorite,” she exclaimed, sliding it out of the stack. She thumbed through the worn pages.

  “Mine as well.”

  She glanced up at him skeptically. “Is it really, or did you just do your research on me, too?”

  A smile upturned the corner of his lips as he leaned close and cupped her cheek with his strong hand. “If you ever looked at me once with what I know is in you...” he quoted Ms. Bronte in a husky voice. “I would be your slave.”

  A shiver shot up her spine. Her mouth ran dry. His gaze bore into hers. She stared transfixed before she had to look away, or else she was going to pledge her undying devotion right then and there.

  Clearing her throat, she gestured to their dismal surrounding. “I don’t understand how you even found this place.”

  “Charlotte found it for me?”

  She jerked around, locking eyes with him once more. “Who’s Charlotte?”

  “My personal assistant,” he answered.

  “But I thought you said no one knew who you were.”

  “That’s true. Charlotte doesn’t know my name. I’ve never met her. She lives in L.A. She’s the liaison between me and my clients. When she has a job for me, she pages me, and I call her on a special line for the details. Then she uses satellite images to find me places to stay when I’m on a job, like this abandoned mill.”

  “But what about your family? Your sister? How do they reach you when they need you?”

  He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. Then he handed her the mug and sat back. “I lied to you,” he said simply. “I’ve never had a family. I have no idea who my parents were. I was abandoned when I was baby.”

  “You were...abandoned?”

  He nodded. “I grew up in foster care and children’s homes. When I turned eighteen, I joined the army.”

  “Why did you lie to me?”

  He lifted his shoulders. “I’m not very practiced at getting to know people. And, honestly, I didn’t want to dump my personal tragedy on you.”

  She expelled a long breath. “I know what it’s like to not want to talk about your sad story, but you shouldn’t have lied to me.”

  “You’re right,” he answered without hesitation. “And I’m sorry. From now on, I will tell you anything you want to know, as long as it doesn’t put your safety in jeopardy.”

  She had so many questions about his past, but, first, she wanted to fully understand his present, starting with the other woman in his life. “How did you meet Charlotte?”

  “As I’ve said, I’ve never actually met her, but I knew her by reputation. She is the daughter of a wealthy businessman who also happens to be a senator. Charlotte has connections and a rebellious heart. Working for me is her way of getting back at daddy.”

  She bit her cheek, taking it all in. Her gaze once again scanned the derelict loft. “So, is this how you always live?”

  He scanned the barren space and lifted his shoulders. “I’ve never had a home. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t know what I’m missing.”

  Her heart ached for him, but she also still felt wary. What sort of man was he—the kind with more good than bad or the other kind, the kind she was trying to avoid? But that’s not the question that fled her lips in a rush. “Do you do this often?”

  “Do what?”

  “You know, break into girls’ houses and sleep with them.”

  He looked at her, his expression unreadable. “What do you think?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know what to think.”

  “I enjoy women when I wish to, but no, I don’t make a habit of dating women. But that isn’t what you really want to know.”

  “It’s not?”

  He shook his head. “What you really want to know is whether you can trust me.”

  She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to.

  He was right.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, not intentionally anyway. But I’m also not the boy next door, nor will I ever be. My years in the army have left their mark on me. And let’s face it, my chosen profession makes me a danger to you. I’ll admit right up front that I’m not a catch.”

  She looked around the space. “I’ve never wanted the boy next door,” she said honestly and took a sip of wine. Her eyes widened. “This is amazing.”

  “It’s a Chateau Lafite Rothschild.”

  She took another sip before saying, “I’ll have to tell Joe about it so we can carry it at the restaurant.”

  An easy smile curved his lips. “It’s a five-hundred-dollar bottle.”

  Her eyes flashed wide. “Or maybe not.” Smiling, she took another sip and sat back against the wall. “So, you live in broken-down warehouses and drink five-hundred-dollar bottles of wine.”

  “I usually only stay in one place for a night, maybe two.” He smiled. “But there’s just something about this place. I can’t seem to bring myself to leave.”

  Knowing that he stayed for her, she blushed, but then a thought occurred to her. “Isn’t it risky? I mean, staying in one place?”

  He gave a careless shrug as if safety was his last concern. “Don’t worry about me.”

  “How can I not?”

  “Did you see your grandmother this morning?” he asked.

  She smiled at his obvious attempt to change the subject. “I did. I made her breakfast, scrambled eggs with Swiss cheese and ham, and toast with lots of butter. Every morning she eats breakfast in bed. It takes her a good two or t
hree hours to finish.” Chuckling, she added, “After an hour passes, I always offer to reheat her food, but she says it’s perfect as it is.”

  “She seems happy.”

  “I think she is. Her short term memory is all but gone. She won’t remember what happened two days ago, but if you ask about December 13th, 1945, she could tell you what she wore. I love her stories.” An ache filled her heart. “I miss her though. The way we used to be before she really started to decline. We would cook meals together, listen to old records, and I could tell her what was in my heart. Now, I keep my troubles to myself. I don’t want to worry her.” She suddenly felt self-conscious and dropped her gaze. “This must all seem pretty boring to you.”

  He shook his head. “On the contrary, you’re giving me a window into a world I’ve never experienced.”

  They locked eyes. It felt like electricity moving from his gaze into hers, slow and steady, and so very warm. She blushed, feeling awkward in the face of his effortless calm. Looking around, she said, “So no TV, huh?”

  “No, but I do take in a movie every now and then.”

  “Really? It’s hard for me to picture you doing something normal like that.”

  He took a swig from the bottle before standing. Then he offered her his hand. “Speaking of normal, would you like to take a walk by the river?”

  She let him help her to her feet. “I would love to.”

  Following him to the edge of the loft, he climbed down first and spotted her descent. Then, together, they carefully made their way through the rubble. Once outside, they walked hand in hand along the wharf, talking about books and movies. He told her about his travels around the world. And when they made it back to his warehouse, she looked up at his gorgeous face and asked, “Why me? I’m this mess and you’re so cool and calm and smart.”

  He raised his brow at her. “I’m twenty-seven. I’ve never had a real home. I rob people for a living, and our brief trip to the beach this evening was my first real date—and you think you’re the mess?”

  “Was that our first date?”

  “I suppose it doesn’t count since it was cut short, but I do believe a walk on the beach is one of the most sought after first dates, unless romantic comedies have misled me.”

  She laughed, rising up on her toes and wrapping her arms around his neck. “I think a river walk counts.” She glanced at the run-down mill. “Are you going to ask me up to your place?”

  He grimaced. “It’s being fumigated. Why don’t we go to yours?”

  When they pulled up to her house, Brandi was sitting on her front step. Savannah got out of the car and rushed to her friend’s side.

  “What’s happened?”

  Brandi’s cheeks were streaked with black trails of watery mascara. “William’s more like Mr. Darcy than we thought. But not in a good way,” she sobbed.

  Savannah wrapped her arm around Brandi’s waist and walked her inside. “Start from the beginning.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Sitting together on the couch, Brandi explained to Savannah that she and William had been watching a movie earlier that evening when his mother had stopped by his apartment unannounced.

  “You should have seen how uncomfortable he was. He didn’t even ask her to come inside or introduce us. He basically just shoved her out the door. But before she left I heard her ask him if he had remembered to get his tuxedo dry-cleaned for the wedding this weekend...” Brandi covered her face with her hands and sobbed harder than ever.

  Wrapping an arm around her friend’s waist, Savannah asked. “What’s so bad about that?”

  Taking her hands away from her face, Brandi straightened and wiped her nose on her sleeve. “He lied to me. He told me he was going to some kind of school conference thing.”

  At that moment, Damien appeared in front of them and set two steaming cups of tea and a box of tissues on the table. Savannah mouthed the words ‘thank you’ to him as she handed Brandi a tissue.

  “His family owns one of those big houses right on the coast, along with half a dozen other properties. They’re loaded. His oldest brother married old money from Delaware. And the wedding this weekend is for his other brother who’s marrying a freaking Vanderbilt. That’s right, a freaking Vanderbilt.” Her face crumpled. “He’s embarrassed of me, Savvy. Because I’m not some kind of Ivy league debutante.”

  “Is that what he told you?”

  She shook her head and wiped her sleeve across her nose. “He didn’t have to. I grew up in a freaking trailer park, Savvy. To people like them I’m trailer trash.”

  Savannah gasped. “Did he say that?”

  Brandi shook her head.

  “Good! Because I was about to track him down and beat him senseless. Well, what did he say?”

  Brandi sniffed. “Nothing. I didn’t give him a chance to say anything.”

  “You mean you just left without talking to him about it?”

  “He lied to me, Savvy! I mean, I thought I’d finally found a nice one, but it turns out he’s just like all the rest.”

  “A wedding is a big deal, Brandi. It means meeting not just his family but extended family. You should have heard his side of the story. Anyway, William’s a good guy—you know he is, but you can’t expect perfection.” She turned then and met Damien’s gaze. “He’s all too human, just like the rest of us.”

  Damien nodded his head encouragingly but remained supportively silent from where he sat across from her.

  First sweeping her long dark braid off her shoulder, Brandi then dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “You’re probably right.” She lifted her shoulders. “I guess I just freaked. I’m not gonna lie. When I found out about his family’s money, I got a little insecure. I mean, what the hell is he doing with me?”

  “He’s with you because you’re warm and smart and fun,” Savannah stated. “But what I don’t get is if his family is so rich, why is he working at The Cove in the first place?”

  She lifted his shoulders. “He’s slumming it, I guess.”

  “Don’t say that,” Savannah scolded. “You are worthy Brandi Bush. Now, take a few minutes and get yourself together, then call him.”

  Brandi took a deep breath. “Okay. In a few minutes I’ll—” A knock sounded at the door cutting off her words.

  Savannah’s eyes flashed wide. “It’s after three in the morning. Who could that be?”

  “My guess is it’s Mr. Darcy,” Damien said as he stood and headed into the kitchen. He returned a moment later with William following close behind.

  William’s stricken blue eyes lit up when he saw Brandi. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Are you all right?”

  Brandi shook her head, tears again flooding her eyes.

  William’s eyes darted to Savannah and then to Damien. Clearly, he was feeling the pressure of the spotlight. With his arms hanging helpless at his sides, he shifted his gaze back to Brandi and bravely pushed on. “Why did you just leave like that?”

  “You lied to me, and...” Brandi took a deep breath before she continued. “And I thought you were embarrassed of me.”

  William closed the distance between them, sat down on the couch, and took her hands in his. “I’m not embarrassed of you. I’m embarrassed of my family. They’re shallow and small-minded. Don’t get me wrong—I love them. They’re my family, but they can be pretty lame.” He reached out a tentative hand and tucked loose strands of Brandi’s shiny dark hair behind her ear. “I just didn’t want you to think I was like them, because I’m not. That’s why I’m trying to make my own way.”

  Brandi sniffed. “Really? You’re not just lying to smooth things over?”

  William straightened his back and said in a firm voice, “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I could never be embarrassed of you.”

  A beautiful smile broke across Brandi’s tear-streaked face. “Do you mean it?”

  William nodded sincerely. He pulled her close. “And if you don’t mind an evening spent listening to my
sister-in-law complain about first-world problems and my mother picking apart every other woman’s dress choice and my dad talking down to the catering staff, then I would be honored if you would come to my brother’s wedding as my date.”

  “I will,” Brandi squealed and threw her arms around William’s neck.

  “I’m sorry, baby,” Savannah heard William say in a hushed voice.

  Damien appeared at her side and took her hand. “Shall we give them some time alone?”

  She nodded and followed him upstairs to her room and collapsed on the bed. “I’m so relieved, relieved and exhausted.”

  He stretched out alongside her. “Tonight was definitely not the perfect first date that I had planned, but it certainly proved eventful.”

  She smiled and stroked her finger down the black stubble on his cheeks. “I’ve had lots of perfect first dates with guys with very imperfect intentions. Tonight was unforgettable.”

  He leaned close and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “You should sleep.”

  She nodded. “I have to be up in a few hours to make Nonna breakfast. Will you stay?”

  He whisked his shirt over his head, revealing his steely shoulders and the cut ridges of his stomach.

  She smiled, her gaze devouring the sleek contours of his beautiful body. “So, that’s a yes.”

  He laughed. “Yes, I will stay.” He pulled back the covers and laid down while she stripped down to her bra and panties and climbed in beside him, resting her cheek on his strong chest.

  He pressed a kiss to her head. “Rest, Savannah Honey and dream peaceful dreams.”

  With a smile curving her lips, Savannah drifted off to sleep.

  Feeling as if she had only been asleep for a few minutes, Savannah sat up with a jerk and gripped her head with her hands.

  “Are you okay?” She heard Damien say.

  She opened her eyes and met his gaze. “Yeah, I’m fine. It was just a waitressing dream.”