Текст книги "Stripped"
Автор книги: Lauren Dane
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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 9 страниц)
CHAPTER SEVEN
What a difference being a thousand miles north made. Bundled up in her heavy coat, Dahlia sat out on the porch sipping coffee and avoiding her father.
His words to her played around in her brain, edging at her heart. That he didn’t see her for anything more than a pretty face hurt more than when strangers thought so.
“Hey.”
Dahlia’s sister, Iris, joined her on the glider swing.
“You’re different, Dahlia. In a good way,” Iris added quickly. “Confident. Tell me.”
Dahlia told her sister about the job with Tate and how excited she was at the possible opportunity.
“You’re the only one who seems to have trouble believing you’re worthy.”
“And Dad.”
Iris sighed. “Back to that in a minute. Tell me about the guy. There’s got to be one. I can tell.”
Dahlia laughed. “His name is Nash and he’s…God, Iris, he’s amazing. Runs the family business with his brother. It’s hard to explain what he does, but essentially he takes people who need things and introduces them to the people who can provide them and gets a commission for it. Only it’s people like Robert De Niro and Sheryl Crow and stuff. He’s cultured and rich. I don’t know how to deal with it. I’m afraid that it means more to me than to him.”
Dahlia paused and her sister waited.
“I think I’m in love with him and it’s not quite been two months. I’m worried I’m going to end up dumped with my heart in a thousand pieces. I’m in way over my head, but I can’t help it. I feel so alive when I’m with him.”
“What are you worried about, then? Do you think he’s just using you?”
“I want to trust what he says. He’s the one who pushed for us to be exclusive. But he travels a lot and everywhere we go women fall over themselves for him. It’s…I don’t know how to handle that.”
“Dahlia, why can’t you see how truly special you are? I know you see how gorgeous you are. And life hasn’t always been easy because of that. But you have such a problem understanding that a man would want all of you. Why?” Iris shook her head. “Okay, so I do know part of why. But so some guy from the hill dumped you in your senior year because his parents thought you were trash. You aren’t, Dahlia. You were always better than Chris Foster and his stuck-up family. It’s time to rise above all that. Some people will judge you no matter what. You can’t do anything about it other than be a person of worth. And you are.
“If this guy knows what’s good for him, he’s in love with you, too. Give him a chance. Don’t judge him the way you hate to be judged. But if he hurts you, I’ll come down there and kick his ass.”
Dahlia laughed. “I love you.”
“And as for Dad, Dahlia, you’re just going to have to accept that he doesn’t get why you’d want to leave Liberty, and he won’t—ever. He’s a good man, he loves his family, but he doesn’t have big dreams, and part of him feels inadequate because you do. Like the life he worked so hard for wasn’t enough.”
Damn, her sister was right. Dahlia felt ashamed she’d never thought of it that way.
Iris put her head on Dahlia’s shoulder briefly.
“Let it go. Be happy.”
* * *
Relief poured through Nash as the plane took off for Heathrow. A week with his mother shoving women at him was more than he could take. Even after he’d told her he was seeing someone.
More than anything, this time apart confirmed that he was developing some seriously deep feelings for Dahlia. All he thought of was her scent, the way she laughed. That hip thing she did onstage and in bed. The way she felt first thing in the morning, sleep-warm and always willing to open her arms and legs to him.
With other women, he got bored at a few weeks. But it had been five months since they’d first met and his fascination with her had begun. Two since they’d been officially seeing each other. He’d tried to talk with William about it, but his brother had blown him off, assuring Nash it was just a phase. And Nash, wanting to avoid a scene, had let it go, promising to revisit the subject soon. William seemed to like Dahlia well enough, but Nash noted how suspicious he seemed of her motives.
His brother was where Nash had been six months before. Married to his job and enjoying the favors of every woman he could.
For Nash it was like he’d been living half a life. He hadn’t noticed how much he’d been missing until Dahlia filled in all the corners, making him whole.
* * *
Rushing back to Vegas from London, Nash headed straight to Dahlia’s place. He knocked on her door and it swung open. Concerned, he peeked inside and saw her there, sitting in a chair and staring off into space.
“Dahlia? Baby, are you all right?” She never left her door open, and her usually animated features were slack. Alarmed, he rushed into her apartment and she turned, jumping up and into his arms laughing.
Relief nearly stopped his heart when he realized she was all right.
“Joseph Tate just called. I got the job, Nash. And you’re back. Oh, my God, you’re back and I missed you so much. What are you doing back so early? I thought you weren’t due back for three days.”
He put her down and kissed her quickly. “Congratulations! That’s great news. I’m so proud of you. I finished up as fast as I could because I wanted to see you. I missed you, too. You look good.”
She looked down at her hoodie and jeans. “Yeah, the height of fashion.” He’d just said he was proud of her. More than any other compliment, that meant something to her.
“Come to my place. It’s your night off so we can get dressed up, grab some dinner and hit a club to celebrate. Afterward, we can go back to my place, take a hot bath and I’ll lick you dry.”
“I don’t know. Where do you want to go?”
“Lupo? Chinois? Fleur de Lys?”
Good Lord, the man had expensive taste. Still, it’d be nice to celebrate.
“I see hesitation and I wager it’s about how much things cost. Stop. You just got offered a great job. You’re my girlfriend, let me do this. And you don’t let me shower you with expensive presents the way I want to all the time. So this is for me, too.”
She blushed and smiled at his saying she was his girlfriend. “Oh, all right. The pains a girl has to endure when her boyfriend is rich.”
He grabbed her and pulled her close. “You just admitted I was your boyfriend.”
“Is it a secret?” she teased.
“Sometimes it feels like you think so.” He raised an eyebrow at her. She watched as he whipped out his cell phone and procured an impossible Friday-night, last-minute reservation at Le Cirque.
When he did stuff like that she was impressed and also felt like a hick. “Well, that was something. I’ve never been to Le Cirque.”
He laughed. “You’re in for a treat, then. And we can get gelato afterward. I like to watch you lick the spoon.”
“I told my family about you,” she blurted out.
Looking ridiculously pleased, he took her hand and kissed it. “You did? Wow. Thank you, Dahlia. That means a lot to me.”
She shrugged and noticed he didn’t say he had told his mother. A pang of doubt rode her again. Was he ashamed of her?
Back at his penthouse she nearly ran back out the door when she saw the literal heap of presents. She had something for him in her bag, but it paled in comparison.
“Go on. Open up!”
She sat, and he handed her a large, flat box. When she opened it, a beautiful red dress slid toward her. She picked it up and the material made her want to weep. “You bought me a dress from Chanel?” She couldn’t even act outraged—the dress in her hands was a work of art.
“Yes. It’s beautiful and I saw it and knew you had to have it. Please, Dahlia. I know you’re uncomfortable with my spending money on you, but I have it and I wanted to buy it for you. Won’t you let me? I promise to restrain myself but for birthdays and major holidays.”
How could she refuse the dress in her hands? The look on his face? “Thank you.”
There were other lavish gifts, things she’d never have been able to afford. Still, each one was clearly something he’d thought about carefully.
“I’m just overwhelmed. Thank you, Nash. You’re so generous. I have something for you, too, but it’s, well, it’s not a Fendi bag.”
He touched her chin with a fingertip. “It’s from you. That’s what matters.”
Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the package.
Gleefully, he tore it open and looked at the shirt inside. “Dahlia.” He picked it up and looked at it.
“Do you like it?” Suddenly she felt eight years old. God, what made her think making him a shirt was a good idea? A man like him? She wanted to crawl into a hole.
“Do I like it? Did you make this?”
She nodded. “My mom helped. This was over my head, but she rocks with a needle and thread. I stole one of your dress shirts for your measurements.”
He pulled off his shirt and put hers on and she had to admit it fit perfectly. “This is brilliant, Dahlia. I love it. Thank you.”
* * *
Good God, she’d made him a shirt. Made it with her own hands and creativity. Crap, his presents didn’t even compare to her thought and effort. He was a fortunate man.
“I’m wearing this tonight.”
The smile he got in return made him want to toss her over his shoulder and stay in instead. He loved it when she was exposed like that. Not trying to hide herself from him.
But what he got was nearly as good as a sweaty romp. He got the intimacy of her standing next to him in his dressing area as she applied makeup and did her hair. It was a normal moment, but it meant so much. And the woman was made for expensive clothing. She looked so fucking gorgeous in the dress and shoes he wasn’t sure he wanted to take her out in public.
Her hair cascaded down her back in fat curls. Red lips matched the dress. Her body, generous, voluptuous, was framed by the deep scarlet of the dress, her breasts hugged lovingly. All of this accentuated by the height of the strappy heels.
Yep. Sex bomb—and she was all his.
It was so deceptively simple then for him. This life with her. He wanted it, and he wanted it for good.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Six months after that first dinner at her apartment, Dahlia could admit without hesitation that she loved Nash Emery. She was pretty sure he loved her, too. He certainly treated her that way.
But the doubts remained. Every time they were out and one of his friends would approach, she saw how they looked at her. They spoke of things she didn’t know, of people and places she was unfamiliar with. Many of the men looked her over in ways that made her feel cheap, and the women, if they addressed her at all, were patronizing, and it was clear they didn’t think much of her.
She hated that. Worse, she hated her hesitation in bringing it to Nash, who seemed totally clueless. She was a confident woman! She wanted to believe what her heart told her and she loathed the weakness she felt over it. Still, things were going better than they ever had, personally and professionally. Her job was amazing, and she was nearing the time when she’d be leaving The Dollhouse for good.
She headed into The Dollhouse a little early to stretch before opening.
Even better, she heard Nash’s voice coming from William’s office and she moved toward it, happy that he’d returned a few days early.
“I know what Lara says, William. She’s got a point…”
“Don’t be stupid. Dahlia’s got no family name. I can see the appeal, she’s a hot number. You fuck a girl like that. You buy her some expensive gifts, enjoy the hell out of her body for a while and you move on.
“You’ve been seen all over town with this girl for months now. It’s time to remember who and what you come from. Dahlia isn’t one of us. She can’t fit into our life. And you shouldn’t want her to. She’s not made for it. Can you imagine what Mother would do if you brought her home? You can’t. You bring home a woman like Lara Warner.”
Dahlia held her stomach, nausea holding her hostage as her world crashed around her head.
“Hey, Dahlia! Nice to see you tonight,” one of the bouncers called to her as he walked in the front doors.
The discussion in William’s office halted and she pushed the door open to see both brothers looking toward her guiltily.
Nash started to speak but she held up her hand as she stalked to William’s desk.
Rage warred with shame as she took a long look at her former boss. “You can go fuck yourself, you goddamn snob. I quit.” With that she turned on her heel and ran past Nash, shoving at him as he tried to grab her.
She heard him shouting her name moments later, but she ran to her car and drove the hell away from The Liege and the man she thought loved her.
Smacking the steering wheel with her hand she gnashed her teeth. Who the hell did Nash think he was, anyway? Lara had a point? She’d fallen prey to his charms and forgotten herself. That she’d actually thought he loved her made her feel like an utter fool, but, damn it, what made him and that prick brother of his better than her? She worked hard! Made her own way in the world.
Her phone rang. She tossed it down when she saw it was him.
Finally arriving home, she’d started to pull into the lot but saw Nash’s GTO. Reversing her car, she headed to Roseanne’s.
Roseanne took one look at her face and pulled her into the apartment and gave her a hug. “Honey, what is it?”
Her phone rang so many times she turned it off and told Roseanne the whole story.
Roseanne made a face. “What the fuck? I don’t understand. Look, Dahlia, I don’t know a lot of things but I do know Nash Emery is in love with you. William is an asshole, yes. But Nash? Honey, his face lights up every time you walk into a room. I don’t buy the idea of some secret hate about your lack of a pedigree.”
The tears came then, and Roseanne held her tight until they passed. “Oh, God, I’m in love with him. He always avoided talking about taking me to meet his mother. He’s ashamed of me. He’d say he wished I could come with him to London or Milan but never, ever that he wished his mother could meet me. I should have listened to my inner voice about it.”
“Sweetie, I think you should let him explain. If it’s not what you want to hear, what have you lost? But what if you misunderstood? You said you only heard William talking. Are you going to write this off so easily?”
“I don’t know what to do!” True, it had been just William. But what about that comment about Lara’s being right? And what about his being ashamed of her? The possibilities struck her frozen, unable to think about anything.
“What do you have to lose?”
“My heart. My dignity.”
“Girl, you already lost your heart and what the fuck is dignity when you’re sleeping on a garage-sale couch in my living room when a man like Nash just might truly love you?” Roseanne rolled her eyes. “I’m going to work. If you want to stay, the bed in my spare room is made up. I love you no matter what.”
Roseanne walked out and Dahlia put her head in her hands.
* * *
Nash had thought of nothing but Dahlia the whole plane trip back from New York. It was high time his family accepted that he was in love and with this woman for good. He also wanted to push through the last of Dahlia’s emotional walls and tell her he loved her straight out. He’d shown her, he’d said it in a hundred other ways but he wanted to tell her.
Knowing his mother would be the biggest battle, he decided to go to William first. He’d dropped his bags off at home and gone to The Dollhouse.
When he’d confessed the depth of his feelings for Dahlia, William’s attitude had gone from amusement to concern that Nash may have been the target of a gold digger. He hadn’t had any real idea of just who Dahlia was. Part of that was Nash’s fault for not having her around William more socially so he could get to know her better.
Worse, Lara Warner had been talking shit around town. Though she did have a point. Nash did have a responsibility to his station in life—a responsibility to make it one-hundred-percent clear that he was with Dahlia Baker. Not as a fling. Not as a pretty bit on the side. But for good.
He’d been on the verge of interrupting his brother to reiterate just how deeply he felt for Dahlia, to tell William why he trusted her, when they’d heard Dahlia’s name being called. Time had slowed as he’d turned to see her standing there in the hallway.
Nash would never in a million years forget the look on her face as she’d stood there, obviously hurt and humiliated. He’d jumped up to explain, but her hand had flown up, cutting him off, and she’d stalked in, told William off and stormed out.
He’d been so stunned by the whole thing, that lapse of time had given her a head start. He stood there, watching her taillights, his stomach sinking. Grabbing his phone, he called hers and got voice mail as he got into his car and raced toward her place. Arriving first, he thanked his forethought to take the back way.
Using his charm and a hundred-dollar bill, he managed to convince the manager to let him inside her apartment. Nash had been there often enough that the guy knew him by sight.
And then he waited.
After her mailbox filled up he called William and chewed him a new one.
“I didn’t know she was standing there!” At least his brother sounded guilty.
“William, how can you work with these women and think about them the way you do? She’s a good person. Do you know I have to talk her into taking presents from me? She could have worked me for tens of thousands of dollars by now, but she goes out of her way to pay every bit she can. I love her. I mean to be with her and if I can get her to take me back after this mess, I’m asking her to move in with me and marry me by the end of the year.”
“I think she’s out of your comfort zone, Nash. I think being with a woman like Dahlia is going to be a big test for you.”
“A test? What the hell are you talking about? We’ve been together for six months. It’s not like I’m nineteen years old and I met her yesterday.”
“You’re going to bring her to social functions and she’ll be uncomfortable. Your friends and family will be uncomfortable because she’s not one of us. It’ll eat away at both of you.”
“This isn’t about you and Leah, William. Or is it? Is that why the two of you broke it off?” Leah had been William’s fiancée of two years. They’d broken off the engagement suddenly, and William had refused to talk about it. Nash began to wonder just how much of William’s feelings about Dahlia, about women in general, had to do with Leah.
“Not your business at all. When it comes down to it, Nash, you can’t trust this woman because you have something she doesn’t. Money.”
“This is about Leah, isn’t it? Was Leah a gold digger?”
“We’re done with this subject. If you love Dahlia, fine. That’s enough for me, but I want you to remember this is not going to be a bed of roses. It’s easy for you to downplay the class thing, but she’s the one who has to suffer for it.”
“I’m not asking you to name a hospital wing after her, William! What I’m asking is simple—accept her because I love her. It’s not a hard choice for me and it’s a bullshit ultimatum.”
William sighed and Nash wished like hell he’d known more about the breakup between his brother and his ex.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever I can to make her feel welcome. I’ll even call her and offer her her job back.” William chuckled. “She sure told me, though.”
Nash laughed. “Yeah, she’s everything, William.”
“Well, then, go get her back.”
After hanging up, he picked up a book and settled in to wait.
For want of something to do to make the wait easier, he called her cell again and was able to leave a message. At least her mailbox was empty. She’d listened to her messages. Or he hoped she had without just deleting them all.
* * *
After she stared at her phone for an hour, she decided to listen to her messages. The first ones were just demands that she talk to him, call him back, meet him and let him explain.
But the last one he’d talked until he’d gotten cut off. He told her he loved her and was in the process of explaining that to his brother. He said he’d been about to interrupt William to defend her when she’d overheard.
He loved her. Or so he said.
Curling up on the couch, she watched reality television and fell asleep.
* * *
Nash hadn’t been sleeping when his phone rang. He’d been lying in her bed, breathing her in, seeing her everywhere and wanting to hold her so badly he ached.
Surprisingly, it was Roseanne from The Dollhouse. “Yo, Emery, I hear you tossed Dahlia to the curb. You lookin’ for some action? I can help you move on really easily.”
Indignant, Nash sat up. “Hey! I thought she was your friend. I didn’t toss Dahlia to the curb. I love her! What the hell is wrong with you?”
Roseanne laughed. “Okay, you pass, Nash. Of course I’m Dahlia’s friend. I was testing you. She’s here in my guest room and she’s strung out and you’ve made her cry so much her face is a mess. And you know how much it takes to make a face like that look a mess? I am very displeased with you.”
“That was a test? You were yanking my chain for fun? Is she all right? Can I come and see her?”
“You had a reputation for a reason—I wanted to be sure you really loved her. She doesn’t know what to do. She loves you and she feels betrayed and humiliated. No, you can’t come over. She’d kill me if she knew I told you this much. Plus, I want her to rest. She has classes tomorrow. She’ll go home after that. If you’re lurking, don’t be stupid and park in the lot where she can see you.” With that, Roseanne hung up.
