My Love Regret Page 6

  I tightened my hand around the cell. Risa’s message broke up, becoming garbled until “Thank you for understanding. Goodbye.”

  The fuck! I didn’t care if I had to tear this city apart. I would find her.

  I hit the bottom floor in a froth, having already ordered a car and talked to security. Risa had gone to the penthouse before leaving it ten minutes later with a medium-sized suitcase. She then checked into a mid-price hotel and was currently there.

  Someone got to her.

  Elaine and Thomas defied me and convinced Risa to leave. If they thought there was anywhere on this planet they could hide her, they were insane. Risa wasn’t allowed to leave me until I said she could.

  It didn’t take much convincing to get her to go though, did it?

  I’d ridden Risa so hard, playing with her mind when I knew she was primed and vulnerable to it. Guilt singed me, growing ever-hotter when I got behind the wheel of the SUV after dismissing my driver.

  I didn’t want witnesses for this. Depending on her answer to my call, I could be merciful. But if I didn’t like what she had to say…

  Whatever happened in that room was between Risa and me.

  I connected to her phone only to go straight to voicemail.

  I couldn’t believe it. I called again.

  Voicemail.

  Risa’s security detail met me in the hotel lobby. They’d already gotten a keycard for me. Melting away, they were on the ready if I required them again. I bypassed the elevator, choosing to take the stairs instead. I needed to burn off my excess energy unless I tore Risa to shreds.

  Eight floors up and I hadn’t broken into a sweat.

  Too bad for Risa.

  814. The room was at the end. Perfect. No one on either side to hear us since 812 was empty and would stay that way.

  Poison blackened my mind.

  What if this had nothing to do with Elaine or Thomas? What if Risa wasn’t alone? What if she was in there with a man?

  Jealousy decimated my logic and reason.

  I strode straight to the door and dialed her phone once again. Voice mail.

  The keycard unlocked the door, but it still didn’t open. Risa had the door latch engaged. She moaned loudly. It was breathy and gorgeously female.

  One kick later and I was inside.

  18

  RISA

  God I felt so sick.

  Last night I’d barely been able to keep on my feet when I’d taken my shower. I was asleep by 9:30 but morning came knocking way too early. Somehow, I dragged myself out of bed.

  Damian left for brunch and I knew I wasn’t going to make it. I’d let the fever go too long. Although I could’ve waited until he returned, I didn’t want to take a chance of locking horns with him again.

  Now my terrible performance the day before made sense.

  Once I was through my illness, I was sure I’d feel better about it. But then again, I might just die and save us both the trouble of dealing with my less-than-stellar performance.

  I was more than a little nervous Damian would pick up the phone when I called. I was ridiculously relieved when I got his voicemail. I left Damian a message and then took a cab to his building.

  No way was I going to be sick in his house.

  I didn’t get sick often, but when I did I had to be alone. I didn’t want anyone to see me or hear the things that came out of my body. Wracked with chills, I struggled to pack my bag with plenty of underwear, pajamas, and robes. Eyeing the bed, I snatched one of the feather pillows and threw it in the case.

  Thankfully, Damian’s housekeeper was an efficient kind because there plenty of unopened medicine in my bathroom. I took all of it, along with my toiletries. I left just as quickly as I arrived.

  The cabbie was still waiting for me at the curb. I was checked in less than fifteen minutes later. Turning off all the lights and shutting the curtain, I took the pillows and blankets off the other bed and put them on mine.

  After arranging the pillows to act as a barrier, I threw my work clothes on the floor and changed into my sick wear. I was sweating by the time I crawled into bed.

  Everything ached.

  The medicine couldn’t kick in fast enough. I shivered even though I was wearing socks, silk pajamas, and a velvet robe. Dimly, I wished I had my old flannel robe. It had been with me all through high school and college. It was the perfect temperature.

  Not too hot. Not too cold.

  Moaning, I pulled the blankets higher, but I was still so very uncomfortable.

  I suddenly heard the splintering of wood followed by a loud crash.

  Adrenaline hit me. Every warning I’d ever heard about moving to New York apparently was true. I was going to die. Not from the flu, but from some maniac who broke into hotel rooms and roared like a berserker while doing it.

  I shoved myself up in time to see Damian stalk inside. Even with the dim light coming in from the corridor, I could see his eyes narrow with rage as he took one look at the bed.

  Damian yanked off the covers while bellowing, “Risa, what the fuck are you doing here?”

  19

  When I didn’t answer him fast enough, Damian turned on the light and snarled, “I’ll fucking kill him!”

  My mouth dropped open.

  Sweet baby Jesus. Was this man insane?

  “Kill who?”

  His fevered gaze swept over the bed. Confusion puckered his brow. I would’ve laughed if I had the energy.

  “You’re alone.”

  “Clearly.”

  “There’s no one here.”

  Oh. I got it.

  I shook my head while my lip curled. “No, Damian. I didn’t blow off work for a nooner.”

  Damian shoved his hand through his hair. “Why did you turn off your phone?”

  “Because I couldn’t take any calls. Look, I left you a—”

  “Why?”

  I so didn’t have time for this. My God, did Damian do this with every employee who called in sick? Or was I just the lucky one?

  I feel sorry for anyone who plays hooky.

  “Because I don’t feel well.”

  He cocked his head, as if he didn’t quite understand what I said.

  “You don’t feel well.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “You’re sick?”

  “Yes. Didn’t you get my message? I explained everything then.”

  “Part of it. The rest was garbled.” He looked back at the bed, apparently seeing my mound of pillows in a different light. “You did that because why?”

  “Because I’m cold.”

  Damian’s gaze slammed back into mine. “Just how sick are you?”

  I sighed, already losing the strength the adrenaline had bestowed me temporarily.

  “Sick enough to tell you to leave.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. How did you even know where I was?” I groaned, remembering the door and imagining the damage done to it. “Why did you kick my door open? You do realize I’m going to be charged for it?”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  Damian looked about him. I imagined my messiness offended his neat and orderly sensibilities. Too bad. He wasn’t supposed to see any of this.

  Maybe he would leave if I asked nicely. It was worth a shot. I really didn’t want him to see me sick. My illness was private. In normal circumstances, that would be enough reason.

  In these special amnesia ones?

  I needed the freedom to be as sick as I had to be without worrying about him, what I said or didn’t say. I needed to be selfish.

  “Sir? Mr. Black-Price? I need you to leave. Now.”

  “I already told you no.”

  “Yes, you did. I just won’t accept it.” I couldn’t hold my body up any longer. Or my tongue. Slumping back onto the bed, I sighed, “Book me another room since I can’t stay here with a broken door. Come back and let me know when it’s done. Thank you and have a good day.”

  So much for politeness and servility
. I’d apologize later when I gave a damn.

  “You’re right. You can’t stay here.”

  Finally something we agreed on!

  I felt the bed dip and then Damian’s arms slid under me.

  My eyes flew open. “Wait! What are you doing? Stop that!”

  Damian ignored my commands, lifting me as if I didn’t weigh more than a feather.

  “You’re coming home.”

  I smacked at his chest. “No! Put me down. I’m serious!”

  Damian kept walking even though I shrieked in his ear.

  “You don’t understand. I need to be sick here. I can’t be sick at your place.”

  “It’s better there than this shit-hole room.”

  “Hey! I paid for it with my money. It’s NOT a shit-hole room! I can’t be sick around anybody.”

  “I’m not ‘anybody’. There’s nothing you’ll do that I haven’t done or seen myself.”

  Goddammit! I didn’t want him reasonable and kind. I wanted to be ignored and left in peace. Why couldn’t he understand that?

  “Leave me alone! I don’t want you here! Do you hear me? I. Don’t. Want. You.”

  That finally seemed to get his attention.

  The wrapper of civility split. Damian’s expression betrayed anger and something more.

  Hurt.

  It was there for only a second, so quick I wasn’t even sure I really saw it.

  “Be. Quiet.” Once he was sure of my compliance, Damian bit out, “And don’t say things you don’t mean.”

  Boundaries. Sick as I was, I couldn’t resist the urge to push.

  “What makes you so confident I don’t mean it?”

  He leaned closer. So close I could see the flecks in his marvelous silver and gold orbs.

  “Because I can see the truth in your eyes. I always do.”

  Oh fuck me.

  Dizzy, I closed my eyes and gave up the fight.

  “Anything else, little girl?”

  “Yeah. What about my stuff?”

  “Security can get it.”

  “All of it?”

  “Every last bit.”

  “It’s just the bag.”

  “And the clothes on the floor. You should treat your things better than that, Risa.”

  I shook my head and muttered, “You’re impossible. Crazy.”

  Damian didn’t deny it. He simply walked us out. When we reached the end of the hall, I cried, “Wait!”

  “What?”

  I clearly heard the last string of his patience fray and nearly break. “My pillow.” Seeing his incomprehension, I struggled to get out of his hold. Damian growled one word.

  “Stop.”

  I didn’t listen.

  “Put me down.”

  “No. What do you want, Risa?”

  “I want you to put me down.”

  “You are this close to getting the spanking of your life, Risa. You do not want that. Tell me what you need in that room.”

  Oh, but I did. I wanted his spankings, kisses, and cock. Not necessarily in that order either.

  “I need to get my pillow. It’s not a hotel pillow but one I brought from my room. Please.”

  Damian cursed softly under his breath. He turned around and strode swiftly back into the room. He wouldn’t let me down to retrieve it. He asked instead, “Which one?”

  I pointed to the silver one. Damian shifted me and snatched it off the bed. Taking it from him, I clutched the pillow in my arms, deliriously happy that he listened.

  “Thank you.”

  He glared but still nodded. “You’re welcome.”

  While still holding me, Damian reached into his pocket and fished out his cell. A few taps and then “Bring the car to the back. Send someone in to get Ms. Kelly’s things. Just a bag and clothes. Check to make sure there isn’t anything else left behind.”

  Damian then took us out of the room and down the stairs. Scared, I clutched him tightly.

  “I can walk. Promise.”

  “Risa, if you don’t stop talking I will gag you.”

  Illness and bravery didn’t make a great combination.

  “Look, I just don’t want us both to take a header down these stairs and break our necks, okay? My obituary can’t read ‘Risa Kelly. Dead from billionaire Damian Black-Price’s tumble down the stairs at a hotel. She is survived by her parents who are currently in litigation with said billionaire.’”

  “You’re not the least bit cute or clever.”

  “I’m not trying to be.”

  “I won’t let you die, Risa. Ever. Tell me you believe me.”

  We weren’t just talking about the stairs, were we? I stared at one particular spot on his temple, hidden by his dark hair. Blindfolded, I’d know it by touch alone.

  Whatever was forgotten or remembered didn’t matter. Damian wouldn’t break his word. If he said I’d be safe, then I’d be safe.

  Licking my lips, I whispered, “I believe you.”

  Damian finally put me down. I was only moments away from thanking him when he unknotted his tie and set it over my mouth. A deft loop later then I was gagged and back in his arms.

  “But I said I believed you!” Only it came out as “Bu auf sid auf buweef ugh!”

  “What was that, little girl? I can’t quite hear you.”

  Shocked but not completely surprised at his daring, I held myself as still as possible. The crazy man carried me all eight flights down without breaking into a sweat.

  Confidently, he strode down a hall, winding us through the busy kitchen and seemingly not concerned what people would think about him carrying a woman in pajamas.

  Worried that people would see us and get the wrong idea, I buried my face against his chest. Damian tightened his arms around me, as if he liked my reaction.

  Jerk.

  He may not have cared about what other people thought, but I had to. I didn’t fancy having to explain the delicate nature of our situation to the police, especially while running a high fever.

  Thankfully, we were soon out in the alley where a driver awaited us along with three members of Damian’s security team. The driver quickly opened the door for us. Damian put me in the backseat and then joined me.

  “The penthouse.”

  We were off to fight the midday traffic. To think I’d have to wait at least half an hour to get to bed…

  One day I’d get Damian back for this.

  Exhausted, I fumbled with the tie’s knot. I didn’t even want to imagine what the driver thought about seeing me like this. He probably already saw me as Damian’s piece on the side.

  Damian brushed my fingers aside. “I should keep this on you.” He untied my gag, but his gaze warned me it would go right back on if I didn’t behave.

  I glared but didn’t say a word.

  He pulled me to him, forcing my head against his chest. “Rest.”

  “I was resting just fine, you know. Until you broke my door down and barged in like a maniac.”

  Damian dangled the tie in front of my face. Wisely, I didn’t say anything else.

  20

  DAMIAN

  I couldn’t explain why I acted the way I did. I wouldn’t even want to try.

  My directive was to minimize Risa’s importance to me. Not tear about the town looking for her. Too many witnesses, too many potential fires to stomp out.

  Elaine was not going to be happy with me.

  I didn’t regret any of it.

  “Wake up, Risa. It’s time for your medicine.”

  She cracked open one eye and then turned over. “No. Too tired.”

  I wouldn’t smack her ass, not when she was sick. However, I tallied up the infraction. One day when all this subterfuge was finished, I would take Little Miss Risa over my knee.

  “Be a good girl and sit up.”

  She mumbled into her pillow. I had to count to five before asking in as polite a tone as I could manage, “What was that?”

  Risa huffed and pushed her head up. “I said I’m not a
good girl and would you please get out of my room?”

  “You’re right and still so wrong.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, I forced Risa up. “You’re going to take this medicine and then you’re going to thank me for it, understand?”

  “Bully.”

  “Understand?”

  She blinked owlishly. “How can you be so mean to someone who is sick?”

  “You’re being a brat.”

  “I’m being sick.” Risa pouted and crossed her arms. “I told you I couldn’t be around people when I’m sick. You can’t get mad at me when I warned you.”

  “I’m not mad.”

  True. I wasn’t mad. I was irritated. Aggravated. Worried. But not mad.

  “Fine. Give me the medicine and then go.”

  I sorely missed the meek, subservient Risa of just two days before. This little one was a hellion beneath the messy hair and feverish skin.

  “Risa, being sick isn’t an excuse for bad behavior. I’m taking time out of my day to take care of you. The least you can do is be thankful.”

  She huffed. “You’re not playing fair.”

  “I’m not playing at all.”

  “Why are you being so nice to me now? Is it because it’ll be easier to keep me alive than train someone new?”

  The question was obnoxious but innocent. My imagination, on the other hand, was anything but innocent. Training Risa to please me would be delightful.

  Now wasn’t the time to explore my dark musings.

  “I’m being nice to you because you’re sick. I’m taking care of you because I want to. Now take your medicine and cease asking me questions until you do it.”

  Risa didn’t uncross her arms but she did open her mouth. I popped two pills in and then gave her a glass of water. She drank it down greedily and then passed back the empty glass.

  “That was so good. Can I have more please?”

  I nearly patted the top of her head. Sometimes I liked it when she was bad, but I always loved it when she was very good.

  Pouring her another glass from the pitcher, I gave it to Risa while cautioning her to “Drink it slowly. There’s a good girl. Feel better?”

  Risa gave the cup back. I put it back on the nightstand and turned around in time to see her smile, lovely face shiny with sweat and eyes sparkling with fever and gratitude.