Secret (Betrothed Book 9) Read online

  He rose from the chair and walked into his closet.

  I stared at his bare back, not seeing anything alarming.

  When he returned, he was wearing a shirt, covering up his nakedness in front of me. That scowl was still part of his expression, like the last thing he wanted to do was visit with me. He sank back into the chair. “How’s Dad?”

  I walked over to the chair across from him, and now that I was closer, I could tell that he’d been struck in the head. There was a dark discoloration under his hair, like he had a fresh scar. I tried not to stare at it too much, to wear my heart on my sleeve. “Hates the food…”

  “What’s new?”

  “He tried to pour the entire bottle of dressing on his salad. I told him to knock it off.”

  “Yes. He’s been asking for a burger every week since he moved in here.”

  “Yeah, he mentioned that.”

  His gaze turned back to his laptop.

  So, I stared at his injury further, telling myself that it was nothing for a strong man like him.

  “Yes?” His eyes darted back to me.

  “What?” I asked, caught off guard.

  “You keep staring at me.”

  “Well…you look like someone hit you in the head with a crowbar. Are you okay?”

  He sighed and closed his laptop. “I’m fine.”

  “Then why aren’t you at work?”

  “Because I don’t have to go to work,” he snapped. “I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

  He was really pissed about last night. I’d sabotaged his plan, and now he was furious it didn’t work out the way he wanted. It was all my fault…and I felt so fucking guilty. The bruise on his head was because of me. “I just…want to make sure you’re okay. I love you.” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them.

  His eyes were less hostile. “Cat, I’m gonna be fine. I’m not dying.”

  “I know… I just hate seeing you hurt.”

  “I’m not hurt. It’ll heal.”

  “What happened?”

  He stared at me for a long time before he answered. “Just work bullshit. But it’s fine. It’s just a setback.”

  “A setback?”

  “Yeah. I’ll take care of it later.”

  So, Damien wasn’t going to stop. He was going to keep fighting Heath forever. “Maybe you should just let this go—”

  “Maybe you should mind your own business.” His voice rose, echoing in the large room as he gave me a cold stare.

  “I just care about you, alright?” I countered. “I don’t want you to get yourself killed. Why don’t you just retire? You’re gonna ask Anna to marry you. Hades retired, so why don’t you?”

  “Hades and I aren’t the same person.”

  “Then maybe you should be the same person. Come on. Think about it.”

  He shook his head. “You’ve never been worried about me before, so where is this coming from?”

  I tried to think of something fast. “Anna was captured. Some guy broke in to your home. You had to fight some guy in a death match. Yeah, I’m fucking worried. You have plenty of money, and if you really don’t want to be home, keep working at the bank. But there’s more to life than your business. You and Anna could travel. You could start a family. There’re so many things you can do.”

  “Quit ballet.”

  I turned quiet, my eyebrow raised. “What?”

  “What if I told you to quit ballet? You could break an ankle…a knee.”

  “Not the same thing—”

  “It is the same thing,” he snapped. “I built this empire, and I’m not gonna walk away from it yet. I told Anna I would leave once we start our family, but not before. She accepted that, the woman I’m gonna marry, so I don’t see why it matters to you.”

  “It matters to me because I fucking love you, Damien.” My voice rose. “I want you to live a very long time. I want you to be an uncle to my kids. I want to be an aunt to yours. It matters to me a lot.”

  His anger was sheathed. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine.”

  “Trust me, this is nothing. I’ve been through much worse.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I snapped. “You’re just proving my point, Damien.”

  He sighed in irritation, his gaze moving out the window. “I appreciate your concern, but let it go.”

  “You’re the one who needs to let this vendetta go, Damien.”

  He turned his gaze back to me, his eyes cold. “Would you let it go? If there was a man you loved and someone took him away from you, would you fucking let it go?”

  I inhaled a deep breath because one man popped into my head, but I had to force him away, not allowing this man to have a face… and definitely not to have blue eyes and an intense stare. “You have Anna and you’re happy. That’s all that matters. Leave the past in the past.”

  He shook his head in disappointment. “I never let anything go. And I’m not gonna let this fucking go either.”

  I had practice at the theatre, so I didn’t get to Heath’s place until nine. I parked at the curb and walked up the steps until I arrived at his front door. There were two doors, both deep brown and ordinary. It didn’t seem like they were thick enough to stop a militia from getting inside, but I knew it was probably all for show, so when kids came to the door selling candy they wouldn’t have a clue what they’d walked into.

  There was a camera in each corner, protected by a thick frame of glass, probably encased in bulletproof material. A keypad was on the wall, black and sleek. I typed in the long combination then heard the sound of air compressors erupting from behind the door, the same sound a safe made once it unlocked.

  Then I slipped the ordinary key inside and got the doors unlocked.

  When I opened the door, I came into contact with a metal wall. The wooden door had opened outward onto the street, but the metal one swung inward. When I started to push it, I realized how heavy it was, and then I realized it was several feet thick.

  Whoa.

  I stepped inside the house and shut both sets of doors. When the metal door was shut, the mechanisms inside immediately came to life, clicking and locking as all the bolts within it returned to place.

  Shit, he wasn’t fucking around.

  I turned around and saw a sitting area in front of a fireplace. It looked untouched, like it was staged for visual purposes. To the right were the stairs that led down to the basement.

  The basement where he’d kept me.

  I couldn’t believe I was there again…under completely different circumstances.

  There was another set of steps in front of me, so I walked up until I emerged into a large living room, floor-to-ceiling windows comprising one entire wall. Everything was modern and sleek, like it had been renovated recently.

  He didn’t seem to be anywhere.

  I explored his place, seeing the three couches that faced a large TV on the wall. Shelves were on either side of it, and he had unusual sculptures, all made of gray metal. A large fireplace was against one wall.

  I kept moving, coming across an enormous kitchen, a fridge with a glass door, and an island bigger than my entire kitchen. My hand dragged across the granite countertops before I stepped into the hallway. There was another set of stairs that led to another floor, but I looked down the opposite hallway, assuming that was where his bedroom was located. I wanted to put my bag down, but it seemed presumptuous to enter his private bedroom without permission, even though he claimed not to care. “Heath?”

  No response.

  I set my bag on one of the couches and took the stairs to the next level. There was another sitting area, but smaller than the first. I moved down the hallway and saw glass walls that enclosed a private gym.

  It was decked out with all kinds of equipment, from cardio machines to full weight machines.

  Then I spotted him lying flat, picking up a bar stacked with weights as he did his bench presses, letti
ng the heavy weight sink to his chest before he pushed it back into the air, struggling but completing the set.

  Shirtless and covered in sweat, he had clearly been working out for a while. Black headphones covered his ears. He racked the bar and lay there for a bit, catching his breath before he grabbed the bar again, his hands protected by thick black gloves, and he did another set, breathing in a timely matter as he raised and lowered the weights. He was in black running shorts and workout shoes, his sculpted thighs and calves visible.

  I watched him for a while, my heart beating quick and my palms beginning to sweat. His arms were so strong, thick from his shoulders all the way down to his forearms. When his skin was shiny with sweat, he looked even sexier, like this was some kind of free porn.

  Jesus, he was hot.

  I walked through the door and slowly came toward him, not wanting to alarm him because he obviously had no idea I was there. I moved behind him and let him finish. I didn’t mind waiting with a view like this. I wore a red dress with heels, my hair done because I’d planned to come over here after work.

  When he was finished with his set, he sat up and wiped his face with his towel. With his arms on his knees, he leaned forward, his eyes on the ground. After a few seconds, he raised his gaze to look at himself in the mirror.

  His eyes moved to mine immediately.

  His face was tinted red from exertion, new beads of sweat forming the second he wiped his face. His chest rose and fell deeply because he was still tired. He didn’t give a flash of alarm at my unexpected presence, always calm. His eyes looked me over, trailing down my body to my heels, appreciating the way I looked. Then he pulled the headphones off his head. “Damn.” When he wore his intense expressions, he was difficult to read, so it was sexy when he spoke his mind. He set the headphones aside and rose to his feet, his muscles pumped with blood after his workout.

  I walked to him, my heels loud against the hardwood floor. I couldn’t believe this six-foot-three hunk was mine, that I got to enjoy the most masculine man on this planet.

  He didn’t lean down and kiss me or touch me. “I’ll give you a better greeting after I rinse off.”

  “I don’t mind.” My palms flattened against his sweaty chest, my fingertips immediately soaked from the moisture. I moved into him and kissed his sweaty lips, tasting the potent salt on my tongue.

  He kissed me back but still didn’t touch me, like he didn’t want my dress or hair dirty. But he could still kiss me well without cupping my neck or my cheek, could rely on his lips to make my knees tremble.

  My hands slowly streaked down his chest, making pathways in his sweat. I could feel his muscles twitch from his workout, feel how much heat his body naturally produced. I pulled his bottom lip into my mouth and gave him a gentle bite before I pulled away.

  Now, his gaze had darkened, as if I had the exact effect on him as he did on me, as if I could floor him with a simple embrace. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my neck, wiping his sweat on my skin before he pulled away. He grabbed his headphones, water, and towel from the floor and walked out with me. “I’ll take a shower, and we’ll have dinner.”

  “I’d prefer it if you fucked me first.”

  He turned to me, his lips slightly raised in a smile at my bluntness. “Whatever my woman wants.”

  We took the stairs back down to the second floor, and on the way, I grabbed my bag that I’d left on the couch. He walked beside me as he guided me down the hallway to his bedroom. The door was already open, so he stepped inside, revealing a sleek master bedroom. One side of the room was all floor-to-ceiling windows, and discreetly tucked at the top were the shades that would roll down and cover everything so he could block out the sunlight and sleep in. A king-size bed was against the wall, covered in a gray comforter that matched his gray-stained hardwood floors. He had a large TV on the wall, a desk in the corner that had his laptop, and a big walk-in closet. On the other side of the room was an entryway that led to a large bathroom.

  I walked to his dresser and set my bag on top.

  He took his clothes into the closet, tossing them in the dirty laundry bin for someone to wash later. His closet wasn’t stuffed with suits and ties like my brother’s was. It was full of plain t-shirts and jeans, a few long sleeves and sweaters, along with a couple jackets. He was a simple man with simple tastes. “Make yourself comfortable.” He headed into the bathroom.

  I watched him walk away, buck naked, and that tight ass was incredible. No way was I going to stay in the bedroom alone when there was a fine piece of man about to get into the shower. I followed him.

  He had a large shower with glass doors, and he was already inside under the warm water, rubbing a bar of soap everywhere, cleaning every inch of his skin, lathering his dick and cleaning his balls. Even when he was soft, he still had a nice dick, distinct and long.

  I sat on the toilet and watched the show.

  He shampooed his hair, rinsed, and then turned off the water, just as sexy wet as he was when he was sweaty. He pushed the door open and grabbed the towel, noticing me sitting there. He gave a slight smile then dried off before he stepped onto the mat in front of the shower. “You’re eager.”

  I shrugged. “I know what I want.”

  “Damn right.” He scrubbed the towel over his hair last before he hung it back on the rack, to be reused tomorrow.

  I got to my feet and walked out of the bathroom, knowing he was right behind me. I sat on the bed and scooted back before I lay flat, placing my heels against his bare chest. His bed was higher than mine, the perfect level for him to stand and fuck me deep.

  He grabbed one ankle then loosened the strap on my shoe so he could slip it off. He did the same with the other before he pushed up my dress around my hips and grabbed my panties. I lifted my hips as he pulled the panties down over my thighs and to my feet. When they were off, he left them on the bed, like he wanted to see them in his periphery while he fucked me. “This is how you want it?” He grabbed my hips and dragged me down so my ass hung over the edge. He pulled my knees apart so I was open to him, our bodies close together.

  My hands flattened against his abs, and I bit my bottom lip as I nodded. “I want to look at you…”

  He stared down at me with his beautiful eyes, so bright but so dark at the same time. He was a pretty man, but he was so hard in every other way that he looked vicious. Without wetting himself, he guided his dick to my entrance and moistened his tip that way, smearing himself in the moisture that had already soaked my panties from watching him in the shower. Then he slid inside, inching farther and farther until only a few inches remained outside my body.

  I closed my eyes and moaned, like it was the first time all over again. I grabbed his hips and pulled him a little farther, wincing when his size started to hurt me. I opened my eyes again, watching him grow even more turned on as he watched me hurt myself on purpose, wanting all of him regardless of the pain.

  He started to rock into me, sliding his dick inside me over and over, his balls lightly tapping against my ass at the end of every thrust. His hands continued to grip my hips and hold me still as he moved inside me, giving me that fat dick like I was the only woman he wanted to give it to.

  His expression tightened, as if watching me enjoy him was an additional turn-on. He started to move faster and harder, tugging me as he thrust at the same time.

  I held on to his hips and pushed myself forward, slamming into him with the same desire, my legs opened and my tits shaking from our movements. “Heath…” My head rolled back, and I was suddenly pulled under by the goodness, by the explosion between my legs.

  He watched me until I finished, controlling himself so I could enjoy every second before he brought it to an end.

  “Wait…” My nails dug into his skin. “Not yet…”

  He stopped for a moment, his eyes locked and focused. But he obeyed and started to move again. “Yes, baby.”

  Three

  Heath

  I flipped the chicken i
n the pan as I stood at the stove. Catalina looked out the floor-to-ceiling window to the city at her feet. She was in one of my shirts, so big that it fit her like a blanket. I glanced at her as I listened to the food sizzle in the hot oil, staring at her long, curled hair as it trailed down her back. She looked good in my shirt, and she looked even better in my house.

  Like she belonged there.

  When the meat started to sizzle louder, I turned back to what I was doing and flipped it again. The asparagus cooked in a different pan, so I flipped that too. “It’s almost ready.”

  She flinched slightly at my words, as if she’d forgotten I was there, forgotten what she was doing. She slowly turned around and looked at me, her expression tight, like there was a demon locked inside her chest, haunting her.

  I turned off the burners and set down the spatula, knowing whatever she was about to say next was important.

  She came close to me, her eyes defeated, her posture poor like she’d been beaten in combat. She dropped her gaze, thinking about her words before she said them. “I need you to do something for me…”

  Without knowing what the request was, I already knew my answer. “Anything.”

  She dropped her gaze again, opening and closing her lips like she wanted to speak but just couldn’t get the words out. “Promise me you’ll never hurt my brother…no matter what happens with us.”

  I hadn’t asked her if she’d visited her family today because I preferred not to think about them, to see Catalina as her own woman with no attachment to my enemies. But she must have seen Damien today, saw the bruise on his head, witnessed his rage after his plan unraveled with a simple phone call. She probably felt guilty that she was the reason her brother had lost the battle, knowing he would have won if she’d kept her mouth shut.

  She searched my gaze as she waited for an answer.

  “He’s not going to let it go, is he?” I gave Damien so many chances, but he was emotional and stupid, holding a grudge like a knife in his grasp. I did everything I could to spare his life, found other ways to punish him when I never would have considered them in the first place.