Secrets from Her Past: Scandalous, Book 2 (18 page)

Smoothing a hand down her short designer dress, she laughed. She really was going all out, considering she’d even worn Dylan’s favorite color of green. Why was she so nervous? She wasn’t telling him the most damning of secrets, she was only telling him the reason she’d left so long ago.

Corinne rested her palms on the edge of the smooth granite counter. She knew he wouldn’t understand the full extent of her parents’ worry for sending her away, but hopefully he would let the rest go because she’d opened up about…something.

Keys jangled in the door, jerking her attention toward the front of the house. She moved to the kitchen doorway so she could see him as soon as he stepped foot inside.

Showtime.

“Hey,” he said, smiling as he came in and shut the door behind him. “Are you the cause of that amazing smell? I could smell something from the porch.”

“That would be dinner,” she told him. “Hope you don’t mind. I used the hidden key for the back door and just let myself in.”

He moved across the room, his eyes raking over her before landing on her face. “I absolutely don’t mind if it means you’re in here cooking. Or naked. Or both at the same time.”

Corinne smacked at his chest when he hauled her against him. “You’re incorrigible.”

Dylan nuzzled her neck, making goose bumps pop up all over her body. “I’m hungry, and now that I’ve seen you wearing this hot little dress, I’m horny.”

Corinne wrapped her arms around him and for the briefest of moments closed her eyes, reveling in the fact this man loved her. Oh, he’d never said the words, but his actions spoke volumes. Not to mention he’d asked her to stay, not return to Miami or her previous life and career. The choice was so tempting and maybe after today, after she came clean with why she’d left so long ago, he’d still feel the same. Because if he could move forward with what she was about to reveal, then maybe, just maybe, she could stick around and see where this led.

A piece of her wanted to believe a relationship could be built on a half truth, but the realistic side of her knew that was more than likely a recipe for disaster.

Dylan eased back. “Not that I’m not extremely thankful, but why the dinner and the gorgeous woman waiting for me? I could get used to this.”

Yeah, so could she.

Corinne’s heart clenched at the unknowns that surrounded her and Dylan. Why couldn’t love be easy? Why couldn’t it just settle between two people and cure all their problems, past and present?

“I have some things to talk to you about,” she told him. “But let’s eat first. I made all your favorites.”

Dylan grabbed hold of her arms before she could turn back toward the kitchen. “You got a job offer already?”

“No.”

His eyes searched hers. “Your mother is worse?”

“No, Dylan. Let’s just eat. Okay? I promise to answer all your questions after.”

Okay, so maybe not all, but a good portion of them. There was no way he would know to ask her about one aspect so she technically, probably, could answer all his questions.

Corinne had no doubt Dylan would never think to tie her leaving that night with the untimely death of his parents.

Corinne picked up her plate and reached for Dylan’s after they’d finished eating.

“No,” he told her, placing a hand on her wrist. “They’ll keep. Let’s go into the living room and you can tell me what was so important that you went to all this trouble.”

She searched his face and nodded, setting her plate back down on the table. “Fair enough.”

Now the nerves were in full swing and dancing all around in her stomach. She’d never spoken of that night, except just recently to her father. Even when she’d gone to live with his cousin in New York, she was never asked about it and she knew her parents had made it that way. Even at that great of a distance, they were keeping her safe and secure.

Dylan took a seat on the leather sectional sofa he’d recently purchased. Unable to sit, Corinne went to the window and glanced out to the sky as the setting sun sent a fiery orange glow spreading across the horizon.

“You’re pregnant.”

Corinne glanced over her shoulder with a smile. “No.”

His face dropped, almost as if he was disappointed with her answer. Babies were certainly nothing she’d thought of at this point in her life. And now that he’d made that simple statement, she couldn’t help but add another layer to the what-if game she’d been playing with herself for the past month.

“Cori. Whatever it is, you can trust me with it. There’s nothing you could tell me that would change how I feel about you. I love you.”

Instant tears clogged her throat as she turned, sagged back against the cool glass and closed her eyes. “I knew it. I knew you did, but hearing you say the words, knowing you mean them… God, Dylan, it means everything to me.”

“I’m more than a little nervous here.” He rubbed his palms across his thighs and laughed. “I want to stay over here, give you the space you so obviously need to get this out in the open, but I’m having a hard time when I just want to come over there and hold you, protect you, and say forget about whatever this secret is.”

Corinne rested her hands at her sides against the edge of the windowsill and met his gaze from across the room.

“That’s what this is all about. Isn’t it?” he asked. “The secret you’ve been keeping?”

She nodded, took a deep breath and jumped headfirst into her past.

“My life was in danger the night I left. My parents were certain that if they didn’t send me somewhere safe, my father would taken me.”

Dylan’s brows drew together as he shook his head. “Your father?”

“Carl and Inez are my aunt and uncle, Dylan.” She paused, waiting for the firing of questions, waiting for the confusion to settle between them. “My biological mother was killed when I was two…at the hands of my abusive father. June was Inez’s sister and they were awarded custody of me.”

“My God, Cori,” Dylan whispered, eyes fixed on her. “When did you find this out?”

“That night I left town. My father had been released from prison that day and showed up here wanting to see his little girl. Only I wasn’t little anymore.”

Unable to lean against the window any longer, Corinne stood and crossed her arms over her chest as she paced across the new plush carpeting.

“I heard him at the door,” Corinne went on as she moved to the end of the sectional and eased down onto the arm. “I heard my father yelling and I came out of my bedroom. I squatted down upstairs by the landing and listened. I peeked around the corner once and saw this man—I didn’t know who he was. When I heard him say something about me being his daughter, I was really confused.”

“You saw your biological father?” Dylan asked, keeping his eyes locked on hers.

Corinne nodded. “I did. He didn’t see me. He was too busy telling Carl to get out of his damn way and the choice should be up to me if I wanted to see him.”

“Did you?”

She shrugged, coming back to her feet. “At the time, no. I could tell he’d been drinking. Even though I was only a teenager, I could tell his words were slurred and he was angry. Just his demeanor scared me.”

Dylan stood, coming to stand in front of her. “Did Carl call the cops or anything? He was your legal guardian, right?”

Corinne nodded. “He threatened to call the cops. Several times, actually. My biological father laughed each time, saying he could get to me anytime, anywhere, and they weren’t going to keep him away.”

Corinne shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. Dylan reached out, wrapping his warm, secure arms around her and pulling her against his chest.

“He can’t hurt you, Cori. That was a long time ago.”

“He showed up a few times when I was on location for a photo shoot.”

Dylan jerked back, looking down at her. “What?”

“I think he wanted money. I never saw him. I simply told my agent and security that I had a stalker and under no circumstances should he be allowed near me, no matter who he claimed to be.”

Dylan’s whole body tensed against hers. “You mean you’ve been fighting this all by yourself?”

“I had security, Dylan. He never got to me.”

Dylan stepped back, raking a hand through his cropped hair and cursing. “Damn it, Cori, he could’ve. He killed your mother, for crying out loud. You think he’d be kind and gentle if he got to you?”

Corinne knew his anger stemmed from fear—she knew this because she’d felt the same rage and terror all at once at the hand of this monster whose blood ran through her.

“I wasn’t scared,” she lied. “I knew I had more ammunition to fight him with than he could throw back at me. He was a desperate man, and according to my security detail, he was never sober.”

And that hurt more than she liked to admit. He was never a father type seeking out his long-lost daughter. He was a waste and only wanted money.

Corinne swallowed the hurt, the years of pain. “I mean, the man killed his wife, my mother, and didn’t learn anything while he sat in prison for fifteen years? He gets out and falls back into the bottle? If he had shown a sign of being a better man, I would’ve met with him. I couldn’t forgive a man who kills a mother I never got the chance to know and I certainly wasn’t going to let him get near me.”

Dylan glanced down to the floor, then back up at her. “What about now? You’re back in town. Has he tried to contact you and you’ve kept it from me?”

“No,” she assured him. “He’s not a worry anymore.”

“Why is that?”

Corinne leveled her gaze. “He died a year ago.”

Dylan’s brows grew together. “How do you know?”

“I had someone keeping tabs on him. That was for my peace of mind. He had a heart attack. After all of that—the drinking, the fighting—he died all alone in his house of a heart attack.”

“The bastard deserved something more heinous.”

Corinne smiled. “On that we can definitely agree.”

A moment of silence settled between them. Dylan’s jaw clenched, and he propped his hands on his denim-clad hips. Corinne really didn’t know what to say now or how to handle his confusion, his inevitable questions or the love he so freely had given. Her heart swelled, held out hope.

She ran a shaky hand down her hair and slid it over her shoulder. “I never wanted you to know about that ugly side of me,” she told him. “I wanted to pretend Carl and Inez were my real parents. I mean, they are in every way that counts, but I just wanted you to think I came from good, honest people. In truth, I came from a woman who never got the chance to be a real mother and a father who was a monster.”

Tears pricked her eyes. She’d purposely tried not to think of her biological mother too much over the years. She didn’t want to know what she was missing and Inez had been very careful about not pushing the topic, even though she had been her sister.

“What else aren’t you telling me?” Dylan asked.

Corinne blinked the moisture away. “What?”

“You’re hiding something else. You wouldn’t be so afraid to tell me about your father unless there was something else.”

No. Absolutely not. She wasn’t going into that other layer of hell and she wasn’t going to pull him into it either.

“Let it go, Dylan.”

“Let it go?” he repeated, stepping closer, so close she had to tilt her head to look up at him. “Let go of the fact that you’re still afraid to trust me with the truth. Care to tell me why?”

She tried to turn, but his hand gripped her bicep and held her still.

“No. You’re not running. That’s all you do. You ran when there was trouble years ago, you ran out of my bed the first morning, you run to relieve stress. It’s been you’re life, Cori, and I’m damn tired of it.”

She jerked from his grasp. “You’re tired of it? Try living it, Dylan. Try being afraid to stay, to fight for what you want, because if you take that risk, more people you love could be hurt. It’s easier to run, to stay ahead of the trouble.”

The last word came out with a hiccup as tears were streaming down her cheeks. God, he had no clue as to the fear she lived in. The fear of her father actually getting to her, the fear of her father getting to Carl and Inez. The fear that Dylan and Evie would find out the truth.

How could she do anything but run?

“Maybe you forgot what I said earlier, Cori. I love you. That means unconditionally. There’s nothing you can tell me to make that disappear. I’ve loved you in one form or another nearly my entire life. And now that you’re back I want to make this work, but the trust can’t be one-sided.”

“I do trust you, Dylan.” This evening was not going how she wanted—how she’d expected, yes—but not how she wanted. “I trust you and I love you. God help me, I’ve tried to fight it, but I can’t.”

“But you don’t trust me enough.” His gaze leveled on hers. “Which means you don’t love me enough.”

And the last bit of hope died.

“Actually, it’s because I love you so much that I can’t reveal anything more.”

In an instant, Dylan’s eyes misted up. He drew in a ragged breath and nodded. “Then I think that pretty much brings us to a close. I can’t move forward with someone I love more than my next breath, all the while knowing she holds this heavy burden in her heart. And it’s not the fact you won’t tell me what is so damning, it’s the fact that you insist on keeping everything to yourself, always trying to be the hero. Let someone else be your hero, Cori.”