Beholden (The Beguiling Bachelors Book 2) Read online

  Sandra avoided answering any further questions and the two women said their goodbyes. Sloane sat there, numb, like a marble statue, pale and lifeless. She could feel the cold in her fingers and toes, hear her heart beating in panic. She slowly disconnected the call when she realized she was still holding the phone in her hand.

  What to do now? This is about to become a much bigger problem. My father knew what he was up against, and still had the money to fight back. I have nothing and no clue. How the hell did I end up here? What am I going to do? And why the hell is Randall involved?

  Sloane was shaken to the core, but at least it wasn’t public yet. Sloane sighed in relief, realizing she had a short reprieve, long enough to get through the gala and maybe figure out a thing or two. She smiled an ironic smile thinking that she had worried about a new dress for the gala when she should have been worrying about an orange jumpsuit.

  Might be time to binge watch “Orange is the New Black.”

  Sloane was still sitting there when she heard a key in the lock and the sound of a heavy footfall moving down the hall toward her.

  “Still sleeping?” he hollered as he moved through the rooms until he saw her. “Good morning, sleepyhead. Why didn’t you call when you got up?” Randall came over and scooped her into a bear hug of an embrace, kissing her soundly.

  Oh God, what about Randall? What is he hiding from me? I can’t be with him if I am going to be indicted. Moreover, if he knows something and is keeping it secret, I don’t want to be with him. How can I trust him now?

  “I have only been up a few minutes, I am embarrassed to admit.”

  “Well, I came to make sure you ate something and got home in one piece. But you haven’t even showered yet.”

  “Right, let me do that now.” Sloane wriggled out of his embrace and moved toward the bathroom. “Get me a towel, would you please?”

  Act normal. Act normal. Come on, just act normal until you get home. You have to figure out what to do and how to ask him about this. Just pretend everything is fine, you can do this.

  Randall left the room, returning a moment later with a clean towel, beige of course.

  “I see you like neutral tones,” Sloane observed, holding up the towel.

  “Sloane,” Randall took her hand and pulled her over to the bed, sitting on the edge and pulling her into his lap. “What the hell is going on? Has something happened?”

  So much for acting normal. Is the man clairvoyant?

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  “Of course not, silly. What could have happened? I haven’t even left the house. I just need more coffee to get me going and then I’ll get out of your hair.”

  Randall heard Sloane’s words and knew that they were sensible, logical and a total lie. This woman had been in his arms all night. It turned out that they were both cuddlers – spooners in the calm after their wild storm of a night. He knew her every nuance, how she moved, how she tasted and smelled. He also knew when she was erecting a ten-foot wall around herself, like right now.

  After what they had shared, why would she be pulling away? He extended forward to kiss her and she pulled back to avoid him - well, as much as she could while sitting on his lap. Besides, she had a wild-eyed look, like she had seen a ghost.

  He approached her slowly, carefully. For some reason she reminded him of a wounded bird and he did not want to scare her. Randall sat beneath her on the bed, admiring her long legs on full display below the hem of his shirt, and rested his hand on her thigh gently.

  He felt her attempt to skitter away before she caught herself and stilled. It was barely a flutter but he had felt it like a knife to his chest. Could it be that she was no longer interested in him? Randall had thought yesterday was the beginning of something lasting and strong. He had hoped that she had learned to let him into her heart a little and not just her body. That was what he wanted, despite all the advice to the contrary. She had an undeniable pull on him. He was seriously evaluating building a life with Sloane.

  If she could not look him in the eye though, he needed to rethink things. If she could not trust him enough to tell him what happened then perhaps they had nothing after all. Oh God, if nothing had occurred, as she asserted, then perhaps she was trying to tell him she just wanted the sex and was not interested in anything more. It would be hard to hear, of course, but better now than later.

  “Why don’t you grab a quick shower and I will drive you home. If you are in a hurry, we can grab a few things to stock your fridge, but I timed this so we could have a leisurely lunch together.”

  “Lunch? I can’t possibly do lunch,” Sloane fairly barked at him, but with panic not anger.

  “Look, Sloane,” Randall took her hand in his. It was like ice. “I can tell something is wrong. Please talk to me. You can trust me with anything. I care about you, Sloane. I am just trying to help.”

  “Really Randall, I have no idea what you mean. Everything is fine, just fine. I will go take a quick shower. Yes, I just need to grab a shower. Oh, and do you have an extra toothbrush, perhaps?”

  Sloane is babbling. I have never, ever heard Sloane babble. She is always too controlled. Oh my God. Whatever this is, it is bad.

  “Sure, let me get you a toothbrush. You go shower.”

  It took a moment for Sloane to react to the words, rise and enter the bathroom. She was holding herself tightly, walking like a robot, as if any sudden movement might cause her to break into a million pieces. Eventually she got into the shower. Randall could hear water running, so he went in search of a toothbrush in the guest bath.

  When he returned with a refill of coffee for her and a cup for himself as well as the toothbrush, he knocked gently on the bathroom door and pushed it open with his foot. Sloane was standing under the spray, head back, eyes closed, just letting the hot water hit her face and sluice down her body. She looked like a gorgeous nymph to Randall who responded instantly until he willed his body back under control.

  “Sloane, honey, I brought you more coffee.”

  She lifted her head away from the spray to look over at him. “Great, thanks.”

  He wiggled the toothbrush in its plastic container and she smiled, “ Thanks for that too.”

  She stayed under the powerful spray another few minutes, stepping from the steamy stall pink from the hot water. He helped wrap the large towel around her and she let him wipe the wet from her back and shoulders that immediately got damp again from her dripping hair. She had made no effort to wash it, nor did she protect it from the moisture. Randall reached for a smaller towel and started rubbing the water from the bottoms of the long strands.

  He resisted the urge to ask again what was wrong. At least she didn’t flinch when he touched her, and she was moving more freely. Still, she refused to make eye contact and the conversation was clearly one sided as he worked to keep up a steady banter.

  “I need to be back in the office before 2:00. What about you? I know you are waiting on signatures from the lawyers over at Steel Frank, but do you have anything else going on today?” She shook her head no, but offered nothing. “So we could go have lunch, sit outside somewhere and enjoy Chicago’s good weather. It’s a beautiful day. What do you think?”

  No response. “In the mood for anything special?” Another non-response.

  Randall wrapped Sloane in the large towel like a mummy, her hair wrapped in a second towel, and scooted her over to the toilet. He dropped the lid and gently pushed her to sit. He squatted down forcing her to look him straight in the eye.

  As soon as she lifted her head, Randall could see the tears pooling in Sloane’s sad blue eyes. Within moments, they were spilling over soundlessly.

  “Oh baby, what is it? Please tell me. Let me help you,” Randall pleaded.

  She sat crying in silence for what felt like an hour but was a few minutes. Finally, she spoke in a tiny voice that he had to lean in to hear.

  “Randall, I wish you could help me. I wish anyone could help me, but they can’t. I am about to b
e in big trouble and the best thing you can do is get as far away from me as you can.”

  Randall took her elegant hands in his big paws, holding them lightly but surely. “I am not going anywhere, Sloane.”

  Then he waited, and waited, and waited, but she offered nothing else. No explanation. Nothing. Randall was unsure how hard to push her for information. He had believed minutes ago that she was going to share her situation with him but she just sat there with tears streaming down her face. He knew how to handle the strong, willful Sloane but this fragile Sloane was new to him.

  “I should go,” Sloane made a move to get up and Randall stood, moving out of her way, then following her back to the bedroom. She divested herself of the towel with her back to him, modestly, pulled on her dress, then looked around for something. Her shoes were on the floor where she had kicked them off last night and eventually she stopped looking around and put them on.

  “Please give me back my underwear,” she asked Randall politely, detached. She could have been asking him to hand her a comb, but he knew what it cost her to ask under the current circumstances. She had been acting as if they had not shared a night of incredible intimacy, but this question broke that barrier. Her face was red with embarrassment.

  “No.”

  “No? What do you mean, no? They are mine. Just give them to me. They are not some damn trophy for your conquest, Randall.”

  “I don’t want a trophy, Sloane, and it was not a conquest, it was the start of something very special.” He was relieved to hear some fight come back into her voice. She was standing taller too.

  “You tell me what is going on and I might return your panties,” he bargained, dropping to the bed and crossing his right foot over his left knee like he had all the time in the world.

  “Oh, you might return them? You expect me to tell you my deep dark secret and then you might return them? This is not some damn game, Randall.” She had emphasized the word ‘might’ like she was spoiling for a fight and Randall egged her on, wanting his old Sloane back.

  “Yeah, I might…or I might not.” He reached his hand into his pants pocket and her eyes followed his every move.

  “Is that them in your pocket? Hand them over, seriously.”

  “Or what, Sloane. Will you beat me up?” He was daring her like a child’s game but it was working. She was getting furious.

  Sloane stepped close to Randall reaching for the hand still in his pocket, pulling on it to try to dislodge it and take what was hers. She was unprepared when Randall fell back on the bed, taking her with him.

  Lying on him, their faces mere centimeters apart, he looked at her, the fight gone out of him. “Just tell me, Sloane. You never have to handle anything alone again. Not while I am still breathing. Do you understand? I know you are tough, I know you are smart. I am not saying you can’t handle things. I am saying you have an extra shoulder to lean on – mine.”

  “Oh Randall,” the tears were coming again, and she dropped her head to his chest. He could feel her shaking with sobs and he let her cry all over his shirt, wrapping his arms around her gently and stroking her back.

  “Ssh,” he repeated until she calmed and lifted her head to look him in the face. He handed her his handkerchief and she laughed lightly before she used it.

  “I didn’t believe a man carried these any more.”

  “I do.”

  “I am going to jail Randall. That is my problem. I am going to jail. You need to get as far away from me as fast as you can. The indictment will probably come down in a few weeks and before then you will want to make everyone believe we never met. Let me go home Randall, and then walk away. Please, for both our sakes, walk away.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Randall held Sloane close while she repeated most of Sandy’s conversation. He did not interrupt, just rubbed her back in an effort to keep her calm. She did not mention that Sandy had talked about PPHP and Randall never offered the information either.

  “But she said ‘maybe’ Sloane, and a ‘maybe’ is not a definite. We have to believe that they will find nothing, since there is nothing to find. Then all of this will go away and no one will ever need to know anything about it. You need to stay calm and keep your mouth shut while we close this deal with Steel Frank and dance the night away for a worthy cause. Understand?”

  Was this about the Steel Frank deal? Is that why Randall was working with the lawyer - so that his friend’s firm would earn its fat fees? Could he hold her like this and just want her money? She found that hard to believe. Maybe Sandy is making the whole thing up about PHPP’s involvement, the spiteful bitch. But how would she know to mention it?

  Randall was looking deep into Sloane’s tear-filled eyes, demanding her understanding, her promise. She shook her head but Randall demanded the words.

  “Sloane, tell me you understand.”

  “I do, Randall. I understand. How can you be so calm?”

  “I will panic when there is something to panic over. Right now, the only issues on your plate are having lunch with me and sending the lawyers your recent tax returns. Nothing else is looming besides a fun night with friends in forty-eight hours.”

  “You almost make me believe you.” Did I tell him about the tax returns or did he already know. Shit, I can’t remember now.

  “You should, you know. I am an extremely capable and smart man.”

  “Confident too,” she teased, the old Sloane starting to emerge again.

  “As I should be. I feel like I can slay dragons, woman. You did this, Sloane. Being with you makes me feel like I can conquer the world. And eat a horse, so finish up and let’s go.”

  Randall swatted her round behind as she walked past him.

  “Hey there, if you are going to hit that, you should dress it. Give me back my panties!”

  “Nope, I like the idea of having lunch with you knowing you aren’t wearing any. It turns me on.”

  “You are a crazy man!” Sloane laughed briefly, but she did not ask for the clothing again. Sloane decided she would stop wracking her brain for an hour and just go with the flow.

  A few minutes later Randall was driving in the direction of Sloane’s apartment, finding a parking space on the street and stopping to give her a hard kiss before going around to open her door. He watched her dress rise slightly as she swung her legs from the car and she blushed bright red.

  “I love our little secret,” he told her, running the tips of his long fingers softly up her thigh. He watched the sensuous fog start in her eyes and stopped just short of indecent.

  “Lunch, Sloane. Let’s go get food.”

  Randall was serious about eating a horse. He had chosen a barbeque restaurant, Chicago Q, and after eating a basket of hushpuppies, he ordered the generous prime brisket plate and devoured it quickly along with cornbread and a mac and cheese side. Meanwhile, Sloane made equally quick work of a lighter salad, discovering that she was hungry as well.

  “Do you exist on coffee?” Randall asked when Sloane requested a second refill on her iced coffee.

  “Yep, I really do. On anything with caffeine really - Diet Coke, tea, coffee, doesn’t matter.”

  “Well, much as I love your body - and I do, believe me, I do - you are too thin. If you are going to exercise, you need to eat more.”

  “Like you do, he man? Where do you put all that food?” She could tease him about the heavy lunch, but she knew for a fact that Randall’s body was perfect. Not an ounce of fat marred his masculine beauty.

  “I was in the gym while you were sleeping, Sloane, and then I worked for hours. Not to mention the strenuous workout a certain woman gave me yesterday.” They shared a smile and he took her hand in his.

  “It was really special, Sloane.”

  “It was.” God, I want to trust him so much.

  “Now,” Randall began as the server came with her coffee and he released her hand to pick up the check, “Let’s talk about Saturday. Do you need to be there early?”

  “No
pe,” Sloane answered between sips of coffee. “Everything is all set at the venue. I will go over in the afternoon to check out the flower arrangements, place cards and bar set up. Then I am done.”

  “Great, I have a limo picking me up at 6:00, Tyler will already be with me, and we will get you and then Regan.”

  “Seriously? I thought you were joking about the limo.”

  “Oh no. This is going to be a huge night. I have it all planned. We are going to eat like pigs, bid on every auction item, drink too much and dance until they throw us out.”

  Although she raised her eyebrows when Randall said something about drinking too much, she told him it sounded perfect.

  “I am wearing a tux of course. Will you have time to buy a new dress? We kind of sacrificed our shopping time yesterday to other activities.” Randall had a charming, devilish look in his eyes that made Sloane laugh.

  “No new dress this time. I have so many already, and frankly, money is a little tight right now.”

  “This deal will help with that Sloane. You can certainly afford a new dress, if you want one.”

  “I have a few vintage dresses I would like to resurrect,” she offered, sounding excited at the prospect.

  “OK, if you say so. I am sure you will look beautiful. So, I will pick you up around 6:30. Can you live a night without me until then?”

  “Oh dear, how will I manage?” she taunted him, although she wondered where he would be instead even as she felt relief that she had time to come to terms with all these newfound emotions.

  “No joke, Sloane. I am not sure I won’t be tearing down your door around 3:00 AM. I just figured we might want to catch up on sleep tonight and, you know, conserve energy for tomorrow.” Randall was openly leering at Sloane and running his fingers up the inside of her thigh under the table.

  I hate how relieved I am that he doesn’t have another date tonight. When did I get so jealous and possessive and when did this go from some fun to something that matters? What a mess.