The Dare Collection September 2019. Stefanie London

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СКАЧАТЬ fine,’ I said brusquely. ‘It was a long time ago.’

      She gave me a small, shy smile. ‘Now you sound like me.’

      ‘It’s not quite the same. You lost your mother. I still have mine.’

      ‘But you did lose your dad in a way, didn’t you?’

      Something shifted inside me. An ache. I ignored it. ‘His loss. Anyway, you can’t lose something you never had.’

      She gave me a searching look. ‘It’s the potential though, isn’t it? The potential for there to have been something more.’

      The ache deepened into pain and I gritted my teeth hard. ‘There was never any potential for something more. I wasn’t good enough for Dad. I wasn’t his problem.’ The words sounded bitter, like something a petulant teenager would say, which was galling. ‘But like I said,’ I went on quickly, before she could say anything, ‘that was years ago. Anyway, we weren’t talking about me. We were talking about you.’

      Ellie scowled. ‘I don’t want to talk about me. I’m bloody boring.’

      The tight feeling in my chest eased at the grumpy expression on her face. ‘And now you sound like me,’ I said, amused.

      That got a smile from her, an easy, natural one that seemed to light up the interior of the entire car.

      ‘That’s better, pretty thing,’ I murmured, watching her. ‘That’s the smile I’m talking about.’

      She flushed. ‘How did you meet him?’

      The question was so out of the blue that I didn’t quite understand what she was talking about for a second.

      ‘Him?’

      ‘Your half-brother. I mean, you didn’t have contact with your dad, so I’ve been wondering.’

      My amusement vanished. Fuck. I didn’t want to talk about Dumont, either.

       No, because then she’ll know what a petty bastard you are. How you destroyed the only friendship you had because you can’t let go of the past.

      No. Maybe she should know what a petty bastard I was. I’d told her how Seb had lost my money, but I hadn’t told her how I’d spent the last twelve years competing for his business. Or how I’d preferred my anger to all the olive branches he’d tried to hold out.

      ‘I met him at school,’ I said at last. ‘My mother finally got Dad to pay for my schooling at a private prep school and I met him there.’ A memory floated through my head, of how I’d been shunned by the other boys, because I was poor, because at that stage I was skinny and short and I didn’t belong with them. Of how they all drew away from me as I sat that first day in the ancient hall where they ate. And how one lanky kid had dropped onto the bench opposite me and had given me a grin. ‘Hey,’ he’d said. ‘This seat taken?’

      I’d glowered at him, wanting him to go away and leave me alone.

      But he hadn’t. He’d simply stuck out his hand and introduced himself. Then he’d said, ‘Brothers have to stick together, right?’

      ‘He didn’t care that I didn’t belong,’ I said aloud. ‘He didn’t give a single shit where I’d come from. We were brothers and as far as he was concerned that was all he needed to know to be my friend.’

      Ellie squeezed my hand again. ‘No wonder you were so angry with him when he lost your money,’ she murmured. ‘He broke your trust.’

      She saw through me. She saw through me too well.

      ‘And so I went after his business.’ My voice was rough and I made no effort to hide it. ‘He tried to mend fences, but since he’d ignored me, I ignored him.’ I bared my teeth at her. ‘Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m totally the wronged party here, pretty thing. I’m a petty bastard and I’m fully aware of that fact.’

      She gave me a long look. ‘Is that supposed to be a warning?’

      ‘No. Just the truth.’

      Her hazel gaze turned intent. ‘You’re very uncompromising about certain things. Why is that?’

      Something shot down my spine, a bolt of heat. ‘Because I don’t apologise for who I am and I don’t hide it, either. You take me as I am or not at all. Understand?’ I didn’t know why it felt important to say to her. Perhaps because I didn’t want her thinking I was something I wasn’t.

       Like, someone better?

      I ignored that thought, holding her hazel gaze instead.

      And slowly she gave me a nod. ‘I understand.’

      I hoped she did. Because if she wanted me to be someone else, she was out of luck.

       CHAPTER FIFTEEN

       Ellie

      IT WAS STRANGE being a passenger in a limo. Even stranger for the limo to pull up outside the venue we were going to and for the door to be held open for me the way I usually did for other people.

      We’d pulled up outside some hotel that was the very epitome of an Arabian Nights fantasy, all arches and domes and gardens. The space in front of the entrance was full of other limos dropping off expensively clad guests, ladies in couture gowns and men in tuxes.

      Mr Evans—no, Ash—had surprised me by wearing a tux tonight and I found it surprisingly difficult to look at him in it.

      Because if he was gorgeous in jeans and a T-shirt, in a tux he was absolutely mesmerising.

      With his height and his broad build, his scarred face and the electric blue of his eyes, the formality of the clothing seemed only to enhance the raw masculinity of him, a kind of untamed earthy energy that had made my breath catch the moment I’d seen him in it.

      He held out his hand to me now as I got out of the limo, the warmth of his fingers closing around mine as I took it. The reassurance of that warmth made something I hadn’t realised was nervous inside me settle.

      Back at the hotel, we’d talked a little about what our cover story as a couple would be and had decided that we’d go with meeting at a charity event a couple of months ago and keeping our relationship on the down-low to avoid any media nonsense. No, we hadn’t been dating long, but we already knew that it was going to be something that would last. Yes, we were contemplating marriage, and kids were a definite possibility.

      His gaze was intense on mine as I stepped from the car, attention turning to us, the paparazzi already gathering.

      Except I wasn’t thinking about the paparazzi. I was thinking about what he’d said earlier, about his father and Dumont, and about how he was a petty bastard. He’d flung that at me almost like a challenge, daring me to contradict him, and I’d wanted to.

      Because the man who’d reached out СКАЧАТЬ