Bound For Me(33)

Right when she’d finally opened up to him.

He walked into the bar just as Luca must have said something funny to her, because she threw her boss a smile—so gorgeous it stopped Connor in his tracks. She had an intensity that he found irresistible.

Seven nights? Not enough. Seven days and nights?

Still not enough.

He looked down, frowning at the thought. It was going to have to be enough. Because she was going to get on with her life. And he needed to get back to his.

This whole keep her close, distract her deal, was now only about the attraction between them, right? The challenge. He’d wanted her capitulation—to have sex with her again, to have her stay the night in his arms...

But now he had it?

Still not enough.

And worse than that? He felt shitty about what had happened to her. And the very real part he’d played in that. So he was going to have to ‘fess up.

“Hey you.”

Connor glanced back up, his worries slipping at the sound of her sweet greeting.

But it wasn’t him she was talking to. She was looking the other way—at another guy who was walking over to the bar from a corner table.

“Find who you were looking for?” she asked him.

“Not yet,” the man answered.

“Oh,” she pulled a little pout. “Well maybe tonight?”

“Maybe.”

Connor frowned, shifting to get a better view of the guy she was talking to. He didn’t recognize him.

It wasn’t like her to be that chatty.

And it wasn’t like him to be this jealous.

Uncomfortable with the feeling, he glanced back at the table the guy had risen from. There was a woman there—good. But then he recognized her and his blood iced. Cynthia Matthews? His father’s last assistant. Last affair.

She’d resigned only a couple weeks ago, just before his parents had their flashy fortieth wedding anniversary party. Connor had felt so bad for her, he’d ensured her final pay pack was bulging. And she’d told him she was leaving town immediately.

But she hadn’t. She’d come to the freaking party. Logan had seen her off before she’d done anything.

She was not the person he wanted to see tonight.

He turned and walked out of the bar. Right on cue, his phone chimed.

Good. He’d focus on work. That was his priority, right? Always.



Connor had been there a moment, but he’d gone. Savannah drowned her disappointment by putting on an even sharper show with her cocktail throwing, hoping he’d come back soon. But it wasn’t until closing that he returned. He wasn’t smiling.

She walked out to his stupid-sized SUV with him and swivelled in her seat as soon as he’d closed his door.

“We’re not having sex in the car again,” he said.

“No?” She was so tempted to tease him into it.

“Savannah.”

She stiffened. That tone of voice? She didn’t think she wanted to hear what he was about to say. “Then you can just drop me home.”

“No. Seven nights, remember?” He fell silent.

Savannah didn’t speak. She wanted to ask if everything was okay—if he was okay. He’d had a massive mood change since their time up on the snow this morning… but asking him if he was okay was such a girly, relationshippy thing to do. And this wasn’t a relationship.

He took her hand and held it under his on the steering wheel. His hand was warm.

When they got to the Lodge he led her up the small spiral staircase again, sneaking them up to his peaceful eagle’s nest. But something dangerous had stolen in since their time up on the snow this morning. She could see it in his eyes. Distance.

“We need to talk.”

Not what she wanted to do.

“Your father…”

She shifted and looked about the room.

“I need to tell you something.” He sounded serious. “Savannah, I bought the hotel.”

“What?” Her attention shot back to him.

“It was one of our companies that bought your father’s hotel. And we then onsold it a couple months later. Just a couple weeks ago, actually.”

She stared at him blankly. “No… It was some consortium based in Man… Manhattan.” Her heart puckered. Manhattan was where all his friends were. Oh my lord. “Why? Why would you do that?”

“He’d been sending those begging letters to Rex—”

“Because he’d lost all his money on bad investment advice that your father gave him.” Her heart raced. “He was badly in debt. He was stressed. He probably wasn’t even making sense…”

“And it was his choice to invest.” Connor stuck to the damn party line. “Rex didn’t hold a gun to his head, he gave a few flippant tips at the end of a talk.” Connor frowned. “Anyway, your father made a packet from the sale of the hotel.”

“Is that why you paid the full asking price?” Her voice rose as the implications sank in. “You know he’d have settled for less, he was so desperate. Was it guilt?”

“No.”

Of course it was. “You have no idea. No idea what you did.” She turned and pace away from him, needing to burn the adrenaline now flooding her.

“I didn’t know about his gambling.”

“That doesn’t matter.” She whirled to face him. “What matters is that you thought you could just pay some money and the irritating little problem would go away.”

“No,” he stepped up, his hands reaching out. “I was trying to do the right thing.”

She sidestepped him. “Because you knew there’d been a wrong thing done.”

“No. Your father made his own mistakes. He didn’t research. He didn’t take proper advice. I guess I felt badly for him.”

“But you didn’t want him bothering Rex anymore. You were protecting your father.” And he’d said it himself, his father was a jerk.

“I was trying to do the right thing for everyone. It didn’t matter to me—”

“Didn’t matter?” All that money didn’t matter? Because he was rolling in it, just less than one little million made no difference?

He cursed. “I didn’t mean—I’m trying to do the right thing now by telling you.”

What was the good in telling her now? It only hurt her. And it couldn’t fix things between her and her father. “You really think you can just pay someone off?”

“Of course not. But it was the only way I could think to make the situation better. I thought it would work out for everyone.”

“Well you were wrong.”

“I’m sorry how it turned out.” He marched up and grabbed her by her shoulders, forcing her to look up into his face. “But what would have happened if I hadn’t bought the hotel, Savannah? The bank would have foreclosed on him. He’d have been declared bankrupt—”

“He’s bankrupted now.” She lowered her gaze so she didn’t have to see the entreaty, and the truth, in his expression. “It was my dream,” she whispered. “My home.” The way this mountain was his. “I loved that hotel. It wasn’t exclusive, it wasn’t elite, but it was friendly. People liked it. I liked it… I couldn’t afford to buy it back. It’s gone forever.”

But it had been lost to her before Connor had stepped in.

She understood that it had been his way of trying to help again. Just like he’d fundraised for the cancer kid by shaving his head. He wasn’t all bad. But money didn’t solve problems. Money sometimes made them worse.

“I’m sorry you lost that dream, Savannah.”

“So am I.” She looked up at him then. “But I’ll get over it.”

His smile then was tentative. Genuine. And even though she was hurt. Even though she should know better, that smile totally stole her heart.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said. Because that was the thing.

He wasn’t perfect. But he was honest even when it was uncomfortable. That meant a lot, made mistakes easier to forgive. And made her like him—too much.

“I should probably go,” she said.

She should go to home to Belle, find her father, make sure he was okay.

“No.” He grabbed her hand. “Stay. Six more nights, remember?”

“I—”

He kissed her. Wouldn’t stop kissing her. He knew what he did to her, didn’t he? That his kisses drugged, delighted and kicked her desire into the highest possible gear.

He stripped her, set about pleasing her. Knowing her weak spots. Caressing them. Teasing. Yet touching her so damn reverently.

She knew he was apologising. She didn’t want him to. She didn’t want this to deepen in that way.

She rolled onto her stomach, pushing up onto her hands and knees. Wanting to seek oblivion in his arms.

Just sex. Nothing but sex. Nothing but bodies fucking.

“Hurry up,” she ordered, but her voice was croaky and weak.

And he flipped her back, nudging her legs apart, pinning her to the bed.

“I’m not letting you retreat Savannah. You’re right with me. Looking at me.” He kissed her again. “Like this morning. Only less cramped. Less quick.”

She couldn’t do that. She didn’t want to be that open to him again. That would let him in too close and already her heart ached.

“Let me touch you,” he breathed and bent his head to her breast. “Everywhere.”