The Bad Boy Wants Me(141)

He sighed heavily.

‘We mocked the poor and the downtrodden, we destroyed purely for the pleasure of destroying. We’d go to restaurants and clubs and completely vandalize them. I mean tear them apart, cause tens of thousands of pounds worth of damage. At the end of the night we’d pay for the damages in cash, and just walk away.’

I gasped and he looked uncomfortable, but he carried on.

‘Our goal was to be as profligate as possible. We did anything we wanted, took anything we wanted, because we could. Because there were no consequences for us. We could buy our way out of everything. As horrible as it may sound to you, our parents took the attitude that it was a good place where we could unleash potent, pent-up aristocratic testosterone. Boys will be boys.’

I inhaled sharply, disgusted that such a society could even exist, and shocked that Ivan had been a member of it. How was it possible that the very people I always held as more refined and civilized than the rest of society, should be members of such a horrible club?

Ivan ignored my shocked expression.

‘There was another aspect to the club. It was very competitive. One time the club held a contest. Up for grabs were the words “The Terrible” affixed behind the winner’s name. The rules. The member who impaled the most women in a one-hour period would be the winner and forever after carry that title. No using prostitutes. Of course, I couldn’t let anyone else win. It would have been a slap in the face if someone else got the title that was so obviously meant to be behind my name. What was going to sound better than Ivan the Terrible. I wanted the title.’

He shrugged.

‘While everyone else was running around trying to get drunk women to lie low with, I got twenty women—some I’d already fucked before, some whom I knew wanted me but I had no interest in, and some that I promised to go out with even though I had zero interest in doing so—to stand in a row and I literarily fucked my way down the line. At the end of less than an hour, my cock had dipped into every one of those women. I was crowned Ivan the Terrible during a drink untilyou vomit ceremony. So there, that’s my dirty little secret.’

I have to admit the story sickened me. ‘Awww … bless your little pea pickin’ heart,’ I said softly.

‘Don’t think I don’t know that Southerners say that when they think someone is an idiot?’

‘I don’t know what to think,’ I confessed truthfully.

‘We were just a bunch of schoolboys, frauds, parading around pretending to be men. We didn’t feel like frauds because everyone else in our little club was just as fraudulent. Some of us grew up, Tawny. I did.’

‘Would you still do anything to win?’ I asked softly.

He looked me in the eye. ‘Yeah.’

‘That’s terrible.’

‘I can’t help it. It’s just in me. Once I set my mind on something I have to win at all costs.’

I stared at him. I definitely would not want to be in competition for something he wanted.

‘By the way,’ he said, and reached down to the floor for his pants. He put his hand into the side pocket and brought out a small box. He opened it and dislodged a ring from its velvet base. Then he pulled my hand towards him and slipped the ring on my finger.

‘That’s your engagement ring,’ he said flatly.

I looked at the ring. It was a baguette cut diamond ring, the biggest, showiest one I had ever seen.

I looked up at him. ‘It’s … big,’ I murmured.

He shrugged. ‘The bigger it is, the easier they will believe the lie.’

‘It feels so strange to be marrying you.’

‘It’s just an arrangement, Tawny.’

‘I know, I know,’ I said quickly.

‘Is there anyone from America you want to invite to our wedding? I can fly them over.’

I shook my head.

He frowned. ‘Your grandparents?’

I looked down at the huge ring on my finger. ‘They died in a car crash when I was fourteen.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s all right. It was a long time ago. It actually feels like another lifetime.’

‘No cousins, uncles or aunties?’ he asked.

I looked him right in the eye. ‘No, they all dropped away when my mother became a stripper.’

Then he said the most beautiful thing. ‘How I wish I could have met your mother,’ he said softly and sincerely.

My eyes welled up with tears. When I blinked to clear them away they rolled down my cheeks.

He wiped them away with his thumbs. ‘Do you have a photograph of her?’

Unable to speak, I nodded.

‘Can I see it?’

I nodded again and, uncrossing my legs, got off the bed and went to my phone. I came back to the bed and showed her to him.