by Lora Leigh
“Always, Ian,” he promised as his fingers whispered over her wet, swollen pussy.
“As gentle as a spring rain.”
As she neared the delectable erection awaiting her consumption, a loud, furious commotion outside the bedroom door had her eyes widening in alarm.
“I don’t give a goddamn what his orders are, get the hell out of my way!” The harsh order was accompanied by other voices, raised in protest, in alarm.
“Fuck. Fuck.” Ian jumped from the bed, jerking the comforter over her as Khalid followed suit, grabbing at their pants and rushing to dress.
The bedroom door slammed open to reveal her father.
He was furious.
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His gray eyes trained on Courtney with narrow-eyed fury, his still muscular body shaking with his anger.
“Daddy, what are you doing?” Shocked, surprised at the rage that seemed to whip through the room, she stared back at him, kneeling in the center of the bed as she held the comforter around her. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” Her mother came around him, obviously upset, her dark eyes meeting Courtney’s in sympathy.
“I’m sorry, darling,” she sighed wearily. “I had no idea where we were going until it was too late, and he stole my cell phone.” She cast her husband a disgruntled look.
“Courtney, get out of here.” Her father’s voice vibrated with his anger.
He looked like a raging bull, his face flushed, his eyes glittering as they trained on Ian.
“Why?” She rose slowly from the bed, careful to keep the blanket around her as she moved to stand in front of Ian.
Unfortunately, Ian wasn’t having it.
“Go to your room, Courtney.” He backed up her father’s order with a gentle demand of his own as he stood carefully distant from her.
“I will not.” She stared between the two men, her brows tightening in a frown as she glared at her father. “You couldn’t have waited until we were at least dressed? Or allowed the butler to inform Ian you were here?”
“And miss this?” His hand swung out to encompass the bedroom as he sneered the question. “Not likely.”
“Miss what?” she snapped back, her own anger brewing now. “What were you missing, Father? Something that was entirely none of your business.”
“Courtney.” Ian stepped closer to her then, drawing her to him as her father clenched his fists, his lips flattening furiously. “Let me handle this.”
“There is nothing to handle.” She shook her head, uncertain, unwilling to leave the room while her father was so furious.
She had rarely seen him so enraged. Each time she had, someone had ended up hurt. Not her or her mother, never anyone undeserving. Until now.
“I can’t believe this,” her father snarled. “Goddammit, Ian, you were my best friend. I trusted you with her.”
Courtney could feel her own fury, her own pain rising with each word out of her father’s lips. He had raised her to think for herself, to be a person separate from him and her mother. He had praised her willingness to always see beyond what her eyes detected, and now, he could see no more than the fact that Ian had taken her to his bed.
“What does your friendship have to do with anything, Father?” she questioned him angrily. “This is none of your business.”
“You’re my daughter,” he snapped.
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“I’m a grown woman, not a child,” she reminded him, fighting to hold back her tears, feeling Ian, despite his physical closeness, drawing further away from her.
“Courtney.” He lowered his head to her ear, his voice soothing, cool. “Let me handle this.”
Her breath hitched in her chest at the tone. Once again, Ian had drawn within himself, and she feared this new development might be a hurdle she couldn’t defeat.
“No.” She shook her head, turning to him, staring up at him, seeing the chill in his eyes, his regret, as fear began to sink deep inside her heart. “He’s just angry, Ian. I’ll talk to him…”
“The hell you will,” her father snarled behind her. “Ian can discuss this one.” She could see the pain Ian was hiding so carefully. What had she done? He counted her father as one of his few, true friends, and now she had come between them. Without the time it would have taken for Ian to see how he truly loved her, he was being torn between his friendship and his lusts.
“Daddy.” She turned back slowly, staring beseechingly at the father who had always praised her, spoiled her, taught her to fight for what she believed in. “Daddy, please don’t do this. Please leave, just for a few moments.” She was trembling, fighting her tears as her gaze met her mother’s, pleading for her help.
“Courtney, I will tell you one last time to step from this room.” His voice lowered, his tone that of command. One she had never refused to obey in her life.
She was breathing harshly now, seeing everything she had fought these weeks for crumbling at her feet.
“No.”
He moved toward her.
“Dane, stay the hell back from her.” Before Courtney could protest, Ian had pushed her behind him, his arm holding her in place as Khalid cursed violently.
Dane stopped, glaring at the three of them.
“Do you think I would hurt my only fucking daughter?” he snarled, as Marguerita placed a delicate hand on his arm. “After the hell I survived thinking I had lost her and Marguerite both, you think I would ever raise my fucking hand against her?”
“Dane, don’t let the past repeat itself with Courtney,” she begged him then. “Please, let us leave the room for now. This can wait. Please do not do this thing.”
“Dammit, Marguerita, she’s our daughter. Do you think he didn’t know what he was doing…?”
“Do you think she didn’t,” Marguerita argued furiously then. “You are making the same decisions my family made for us, Dane. Denying her a choice. Only your methods are different.”
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Courtney laid her head against Ian’s back, a sob shaking her body as she fought to hold back the sound.
Ian would never, ever forgive her now.
“I will remind you, wife,” he snapped. “It was not your best friend, nor mine, who betrayed us. But I’ll be damned if I’ll let Ian break her heart.”
“Stop,” Courtney cried out raggedly, jerking away from Ian, her fists tightening in the comforter she held around her until she faced both men, blinking back the liquid pain threatening to fall from her eyes. “Do you think he tricked me into his bed?” she yelled furiously. “Don’t you think he did everything to keep me from it? I seduced him—”
A sharp, mocking laugh met her words.
“You’re a baby, Courtney. Ian’s a hell of a lot older and more experienced. He knew how to say no.”
“No.” She shook her head desperately. “I love him…” She ignored Ian’s flinch, knowing the damage caused by her father’s arrival would be difficult to repair. She prayed it wouldn’t be impossible. “Please, Father, I’m begging you…”
“And does he love you?” her father snarled, turning to Ian. “Answer me, Ian,” he sneered. “Do you love her?”
Everything inside her began to crumble. The second stretched out to eternity as Ian stared back at her, regret darkening his eyes. All sound muted within the room, all but the sound of her heart as she stared back at him, her gaze locked with his, her heart breaking as she watched the denial coming.
There was such regret in his eyes. Affection, yet, it was there, the same affection that had always been in his eyes for her. But there was no love, no realization.
“I’m sorry, Courtney…” His voice was soft, filled with apology. “Your father’s right. I should have denied you.”
She felt something crash inside her, fragmenting. A whimper passed her lips, though she had promised herself if this day ever came, she wouldn’t cry. She
wouldn’t regret.
Surely he just didn’t realize he loved her. That was all it was, she assured herself.
“That’s okay…” Her eyes were burning as she fought her tears, her sight cloudy as she fought to find a way, any way… “It can come…” He was shaking his head, his expression closed, cold.
Oh God.
She felt her knees weakening. Felt her heart exploding in her chest.
“Go to your room while I talk to your father.” His voice was cold. Final. “Nothing lasts forever, Courtney. Not even the wind.”
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She felt the blood leave her face. A horrible sense of unreality closed in on her, darkening the vision at the edge of her eyes, stealing the breath from her chest as she stared back at him in dazed, mind-numbing pain.
“Stupid bastard,” Khalid muttered, shaking his head at Ian’s response.
She turned, forced herself to tear her gaze from Ian’s and to face her father once again.
He was watching her, the fury of moments before replaced with something else.
Regret? Realization?
“I love him,” she whispered again, feeling the single tear that escaped her control.
“With everything inside me. I can forgive you this. But I won’t forgive anything further.
You will leave this room with me.”
He opened his lips to speak.
“Please, Daddy. For me.”
They clamped shut as his gaze cut to Ian, brooding, filled with anger.
“Courtney.” Her mother moved forward slowly, reaching out to her, her expression twisting as Courtney flinched away.
“No.” She shook her head tightly as she turned to Ian. “I’m sorry.” She was sorry her father had arrived. That she had destroyed one of the true friendships he had known. She was sorry she had pushed when she should have stayed clear. So many things she was now sorry for.
Her father was right, in so many ways. Only a child believed in fairy tales. And healing Ian, being with him, being loved by him, was the greatest of all dreams.
He stood still, staring back at her with a dark, forbidding frown.
“I’ll pack.” She tried to clear her throat of her tears. “I’m truly sorry, Ian.” She moved past them all, determined to hold back the tears, to gather the broken fragments of her soul together until she could find the space she needed to repair them.
Her father cursed softly as she passed him, but other than that, not a word was spoken as she slowly left the room.
The door closed behind her, leaving Ian to endure the silence and the condemning stares of those now watching him.
No matter how many times he had taken Courtney, how depraved he and Khalid had gotten the night before, the innocence that was so much a part of her had remained.
She had looked at him as she always had, her eyes filled with light, with purity. As though nothing could mar the untamed spirit inside her.
But in one brief second, he had watched it die. The pain from seeing that was more debilitating than the day he had found Melissa, staring back at him in empty accusation.
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“Well, I hope the two of you are quite satisfied with yourselves.” Marguerita’s voice was cold, furious. “You remind me of two little boys on a playground, standing off over a favored toy that belongs to neither of you.”
Ian watched her silently as he tried to make sense of what he had seen in Courtney and why it was ripping his soul apart.
Why now? Why would that innocence die within her eyes as she stared back at him with such bleak pain? Surely she had known, had understood, that he had lost his ability to love years ago. Hadn’t he?
“She’s my daughter,” Dane snapped. “If I had any clue he would touch her—”
“Oh shut up, Dane,” Marguerita sighed, her voice lacking fury, but filled instead with disgust. “You refuse to admit she’s a woman, not a child. You’ve been hiding your head in the sand for years, unwilling to admit that as she grows older, so do you. And in doing so, one day, she will leave our home for another. I knew exactly why she was coming to Ian, and what she planned to do. Had you been man enough to listen to reason the past hours I’ve been arguing with you, you would have understood that.”
“He’s too old for her—”
“She’s wanted him since she was a teenager. Be damned glad she waited this long rather sneaking into his bed when she was sixteen, as she once threatened to do,” she snapped, her eyes blazing as she turned back to Ian. “And I do believe you are as pathetic as any man it has ever been my misfortune to meet. Why my daughter should love one so clearly determined to be miserable for the rest of his natural life, I have no idea.”
He stared back at Marguerita in surprise.
“You know, Ian.” Her voice trembled as she spoke. “I remember something you told me once, after you and Dane rescued me from that hell my family consigned me too. When life was a bleak, ugly little hole I had no idea how to climb out of. You told me nothing mattered but love. Nothing was so innocent, so pure, as true love. I just watched you destroy the very thing you once said you would treasure above all things.
Pure, innocent love. May God have mercy on your soul.” Then she turned to her husband. “And pray he has mercy for you as well. For it will be a long time before I do.
Now, I go to give what comfort I can to my daughter. If she will allow it—” Her voice broke. A reminder, that because of them, her daughter had flinched from her, unwilling to be comforted in their presence.
Ian stayed silent. He heard every word she said, felt them like knives in his gut, but all he could see, all he could truly remember was watching that purity slowly die in Courtney’s gaze.
As the door slammed closed behind Marguerita, he stood, facing the man who had been his dearest friend.
Dane was watching him soberly now, the fury of moments before having dissipated in the face of his daughter’s pain, and his wife’s fury, perhaps. He watched Ian thoughtfully, his eyes narrowed, the cold gray depths reflective.
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“Well, you two have truly managed to fuck up what began as an otherwise perfect morning.” Khalid picked his shirt and shoes from the floor as he moved to the door himself. “And let me be the first to say that Marguerita summed it up quite well. You are both pathetic.”
He slammed the door behind him as well, leaving Ian and Dane alone to face each other.
“She’s my baby. You’re my best friend.” He pushed his fingers wearily through his dark blond hair as he faced Ian now. “Thinking of her, in bed…” He grimaced.
“Dammit, I don’t want to think of my child, my baby, doing that stuff.” Ian grunted at that.
“I won’t let her take the blame.” He shrugged. “As you said, I could have said no. I could have warned you and let you come after her.”
“But she’s an adult,” Dane spoke over him. “As Marguerita keeps pointing out, she’s not a child anymore.”
Ian shifted uncomfortably. He wished Dane would just fucking hit him. It would help alleviate the ache growing in his chest.
“She loves you,” Dane sighed as he pulled himself from the chair then. “I didn’t believe it. Not when Marguerita and Sebastian argued so fiercely. I couldn’t imagine she could understand the depth of acceptance it takes to love men such as we are. But as my wife is always eager to point out, our daughter has her grace, not just my stubbornness.”
Courtney was hurting.
Ian pushed his fingers through his hair as he turned from Dane, unconcerned with the other man’s bitter realizations.
Damn it to hell, he could feel her hurting. As though something had ripped a hole in his soul when he watched that light die in her eyes, he could feel her pain. It hadn’t lessened when she left, but had only grown stronger, affecting his breathing, his sense of reality.
Nothing lasts forever. H
e had made himself believe that over the years.
Nothing endures. Nothing lasts. Nothing is permanent.
But Courtney was. Her love was. From the moment he first met her, a wild little girl with big doe eyes, she had watched him with the same unabashed emotion. The same innocence.
He had carried her out of her grandparents’ estate in the dead of night while Dane went after Marguerita. Her arms had been tight around his neck, her little voice whispering, “thank you”, “thank you”, over and over again. And from that day forward, she had watched him with that same, overwhelming innocence.
The innocence of love.
She was shameless. As honest in giving of herself as she was in how she viewed life.
One of the few who endured simply because they loved.
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What had he done?
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Chapter Fifteen
One Month Later
The pain didn’t go away.
The aching loneliness refused to abate.
And dammit, she was fucking horny and couldn’t get off.
Courtney paced her room, dressed in the comfortable black cotton lounging pants and matching top. Her hair was loose, flowing down her back, the ripple of the strands against her shoulders reminding her of Ian. He had liked her hair. Many times he had wrapped it around his hand, holding her head back as he came over her, his cock working inside her as he whispered how tight, how hot she was.
She stopped at her window, staring silently into the gardens below. She couldn’t cry anymore. She had cried until she felt she could fill the oceans with her tears.
There wasn’t even anyone to blame, except herself. It would have been easier, she thought, if she could have hated someone else for the pain. She had known going in that making Ian realize he had a heart would be a difficult journey at best. But in her immaturity, in her own belief in herself, she had believed she could accomplish that goal.