Best Friends With the Billionaire (The Rochesters) (19 page)

BOOK: Best Friends With the Billionaire (The Rochesters)
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“You’re right,” he said to Lex. “I’m not letting her walk out of my life. I’m going to fight for her, whatever it takes.”

He pushed past his cousin and headed for the door.

“Her?” Lex called after him, bewildered. “Who are you talking about?”

“Cassie,” Kirk tossed over his shoulder. “I’m going after Cassie.” He stopped short in the hallway. Shawna Parnell was standing there, alone.

“Did you have a fight with your girlfriend?” She raised her eyebrows. “Is that why you’re so pissed off?”

Kirk blew out a breath. “Yeah, I screwed up big time, and now I need to make it up to her. Fast.”

She nodded and stepped aside. “You’d better get going, then. And don’t worry about the deal. I’ll talk to my dad and make him see sense.”

He blinked at this unexpected turn of events.

Shawna smirked. “Hey, I might not seem like the smartest cookie, but I know a good deal when I see it. And I like it that you’re so worked up about your girlfriend.”

“Thanks, Shawna.” He started to stride away, partly relieved that the deal hadn’t completely failed but mostly anxious to get to Cassie.

“Hope you’ve got your best grovel ready,” she called after him. “From what I’ve seen of Cassie, she won’t settle for less.”

Chapter Twelve

The doorman gave Kirk a suspicious look. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you where Mrs. Cooper or her daughters are, except that they left over an hour ago.”

Kirk tamped down the urge to threaten the supercilious doorman and instead pulled out his wallet. He let the guy see the bills stuffed in there as he asked, “Did they go by taxi?”

The doorman kept his eyes on the cash. “Yes. I believe they were going to Saint Clement’s.”

They’d gone to the church for the rehearsal obviously, but that would be over by now. Kirk pulled two fifty-dollar bills and rubbed them together. “Any idea where the rehearsal dinner is being held?”

The doorman wiped his lip. “I heard Mrs. Cooper mention the Arlington.”

A high-end restaurant not too far from here. Kirk handed the guy the money, which disappeared in a flash. He returned to his car and drove off. Fifteen minutes later, he found a parking spot a block away from the Arlington.

He glanced in the rearview mirror and realized he looked about attractive as day old pizza. Damn, he shouldn’t have downed all that whisky last night. His skin was pasty, his jaw peppered with stubble, and his eyes had a desperate look to them. He licked his fingers and flicked them through his hair, attempting to tidy up the mess. He tried to fix his tie, but the thing was crumpled, so he pulled it right off. He found a packet of mints in the console and chewed a couple while he tucked in his shirt and pulled up his socks.

He was stalling, because deep down he was scared as hell. Scared of going in there and opening his heart to Cassie and having her walk away. Hell, that would kill him, even though he deserved her rejection. But not trying would kill him, too.

Finally he got out of the car, all his muscles contracted as if readying for a fight. He walked toward the restaurant, trying to plan his approach. The Arlington was housed in a Gothic Revival mansion set in its own private gardens. In the gathering twilight the windows glowed, and the sounds of people and music spilled out from the building.

A host in a black suit stood guard at the entrance of the restaurant. “Sorry, sir,” he said as Kirk approached. “The restaurant is closed tonight for a private function.”

“Yes, I know. The rehearsal dinner. I’m expected inside.”

The host eyed his tie-less, jacket-less attire. “May I see your invitation, please?”

Kirk patted his pockets. “Seems I’ve forgotten mine at home, but I’m a friend of the bride’s, Lillian Cooper. She’ll vouch for me.”

“I can’t let you in without an invitation. Strict instructions from the groom’s parents.”

Damn it, he wasn’t going to put up with this crap any longer. If he didn’t get to see Cassie soon, he was going to punch something. He pulled out his wallet again, but all he had left was a ten. Shit. All those millions in his bank account, and only ten dollars to bribe his way in. But that was all he had, and he was desperate. He slapped the ten bucks on the desk. The host did a double take, and Kirk seized the opportunity to barrel through to the next room, ignoring the man’s protests.

He found himself in a large reception room filled with guests mingling and chatting and drinking. A few people gave him curious glances as he cast about, searching for Cassie. She was six feet tall; surely he’d spot her.

A large figure loomed up and blocked his view. Russell, dammit. The unsmiling Australian gave Kirk a hard stare.

“What do you want?”

Kirk frowned at the belligerent tone. His hands fisted. “It’s none of your business.”

“Mate, if it involves Cassie, it is my business.”

This guy was
not
going to stop him. No one was going to stop him until he talked to Cassie.

“Buddy, get out of my way,” he snarled.

He made to shove past Russell, but the Aussie thrust his palm against Kirk’s chest, halting him. Fury burst through Kirk, and primitive instinct took over. He struck Russell’s hand away, then shoved his forearm across the man’s chest and drove forward. The force of his anger propelled them across the floor, scattering people aside. There were yells, shrieks, and glasses breaking. Grunting, Russell ended up against a wall, with Kirk’s arm pressed against his throat.

Kirk began to step back, but Russell made a grab for him, reaching for his neck. They grappled and wrestled like a couple of bears. Russell was heavier than him, but Kirk’s adrenaline was running sky-high. No way was his rival going to get the better of him in a fight. No way in hell. Bending low, he hurled himself at Russell, his shoulder catching the Australian in the midsection, and they both crashed to the floor.

Someone tried to pull them apart, but Russell flung them off. Kirk was about to get to his feet when a deluge of ice-cold water smacked him square in the face. He gasped, shaking his head. As his vision cleared, he saw Cassie standing over him, an empty pitcher in her hands. Her face was white and pinched, and she looked like she wanted to throttle him.


The silver pitcher wobbled in Cassie’s hands as she stared down at Kirk’s dripping, furious face. She should say something, she should yell at him for wrecking her sister’s rehearsal dinner, but all the words seemed to be stuck in her lungs, interfering with her breathing.

Kirk got to his feet, his face and shirt soaking wet. “Cassie—”

“Cassie, you want me to throw him out?” Russell scrambled to his feet and lurched to her side.

Kirk’s gaze was pinned on her as if she were the only person in the room. “Cassie, can we go somewhere quiet and talk?”

His eyes pleaded with her, but her bruised heart shrank back. Right now she was too fragile and vulnerable. She wasn’t up to protecting herself against him.

“What is there to talk about?” She couldn’t help a note of bitterness creeping in. “We’ve said all there is to say to one another.”

“No, I haven’t—”

He broke off as Lillian jostled through the onlookers and came to a halt next to Cassie. She glared at Kirk. “You’ve said enough to Cassie. I’m not going to stand by and let you bulldoze her into anything.”

Cassie stared at her sister in amazement. She couldn’t believe Lillian was standing up for her in public against someone like Kirk Rochester.

Kirk looked taken aback, too. “I’m not here to bulldoze Cassie into anything.”

“Oh, yeah?” Russell hovered beside Cassie. “Seems like you were trying to bulldoze me right out of the restaurant.”

“I just want to talk to her.” Kirk took a step toward Cassie, his expression more determined.

At that moment Audrey pushed her way through the crowd and blocked Kirk’s path. “Who do you think you are?” Her immaculately coiffed hair quivered with indignation. “Just because your surname is Rochester, you think you can barge in here and throw your weight around? Cassie isn’t a toy you can play with and discard as the mood takes you. She’s my daughter, and she deserves your respect.”

Cassie gaped at her mother. Was this really happening? First her sister and now her mother, both of them supporting her, standing by her side. She swallowed, overcome by gratitude and growing warmth for her family.

Kirk wiped the back of his hand across his brow. He seemed stupefied by the opposition he was facing. “Mrs. Cooper, you’re absolutely right. Cassie has my complete respect and more…” He shifted on his feet, for the first time seeming unsure of himself.

“Perhaps you should address yourself to my daughter.” As majestic as a duchess, Audrey moved back and stood beside Cassie, her hand curling into Cassie’s ice-cold one.

“Okay.” Clearing his throat, Kirk gazed at Cassie. His pale face, unshaven jaw, and wet hair gave him a dark, brooding air. His damp shirt clung to his torso, emphasizing his wide, tense shoulders.

“Cassie, I want to apologize,” he began. “I want to apologize for the way I’ve treated you, not just these past two weeks, but two years ago, and further back than that, maybe as far back as college. I was immature, superficial, stubborn.” He took a deep breath, his hands twitching at his sides. “It’s taken me a long time to grow up, but I believe I have, and I want to tell you—no, I
need
to tell you how much you mean to me.”

Cassie’s heart thudded painfully against her ribs. All she could focus on was Kirk’s eyes, the gray-blue color intensifying as he stared at her, and she was sure he could read the longing in her face.

As if sensing he was winning her over, Kirk shifted closer. “There’s so much I want to tell you my head is bursting, but first and foremost I want you to know that I am yours, Cassie Cooper. Heart, body, soul, and whatever else, I belong to you. I’m flawed and weak and scared, but I’ll do whatever it takes to convince you.” He paused to gulp, his throat working, his hands clenched at his sides. “I love you, Cassie. It’s not enough to be your rebound guy. I want to be your forever guy.”

In the hushed silence that followed, all she could hear was the thundering of her heart. And then gradually she realized that the spike in her chest was anger. Anger directed at Kirk.

Raising her chin, she glared at him. “That’s a very pretty speech, Kirk, but after everything that’s happened between us, you can’t waltz in here and expect me to swoon in gratitude at your feet. You’ve hurt me enough times. Why should I give you another opportunity?”

Pure astonishment broke across his face. “But…I love you.”

“Oh, sure, and how long has that been eating you up? A day, tops. I’ve had it eating me up for years.
Years
. So don’t think for a moment that some schmaltzy public declaration is going to cut it.”

“But, sweetheart—”

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me.” Chest heaving, she fisted her hands on her hips. The words tumbled from her lips, propelled by all the hurt and love boiling uncontrollably inside her. “You don’t have the right to call me sweetheart.”

His mouth fell open. His knuckles cricked as he opened and closed his fists. And then, a fire sparked in his eyes as he moved toward her, his footsteps heavy with determination.

“Then let me earn that right,” Kirk said.

The flaring resolve in his expression made her heart falter. She thought about retreating, but it was too late. He bent, wrapped his arms around her waist, and hoisted her up, heaving her over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift.

“Kirk!” She tried to shriek, but the air was knocked out of her by his shoulder.

“Sorry about this, folks.” Kirk addressed the guests. “But Cassie and I have some serious talking to do.” He started to march out of the reception room.

“Kirk…put…me…down…you…ass.” She banged on his back, but he didn’t pause a fraction. This was ridiculous! He couldn’t fling her over his shoulder and kidnap her like a caveman with so many witnesses looking on.

But it seemed he could, because no one tried to stop him. Not Russell, not her mom, not her sister. No one. She couldn’t believe it.

Kirk carried her out of the restaurant. She spluttered at him, she pummeled his back, she tried to kick him. But he wouldn’t stop. His arms tightened over the back of her thighs as he walked through the garden.

Squinting back at the restaurant, she spied people staring after them. Everyone appeared captivated by the drama. Even Russell was smirking, damn him.

She renewed her efforts to free herself from Kirk’s grip, twisting this way and that. Her hair was tangled in her eyes, and all the blood had rushed to her head, but she didn’t stop struggling.

She managed to connect the tip of her shoe with his knee, and he grunted. Kirk was muscular and well built, but she was six feet tall and not exactly built like a fairy. He had to be tiring.

In the middle of the garden, he finally set her down. He straightened up, groaning. “Phew! I take my hat off to firemen.”

Cassie stumbled back as she regained her footing. The front of her dress was damp from his wet shirt. She pushed her tumbled hair away from her eyes, breathing hard, her face feeling stuffy and red.

“What the hell, Kirk?” she bellowed and puffed at him. “What was that stunt for?”

He looked at her, the blaze in his eyes leaping as he reached for her. His arms wrapped around her, his hands locked behind her back, and then his mouth was on hers, hot and urgent yet somehow restrained, too. He kissed her with all the passion she’d come to expect from him, but there was something extra, a tenderness and softness that began to dissolve the sharpness in her stomach.

“Oh, Cassie.” His voice shook. He daisy-chained tiny kisses over her face as if trying to memorize her with his lips. “I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to get you away from everyone.” He drew back slightly, arms still around her. “Have I made things worse?”

She gulped, transfixed by the adoration in his face. “N-no, I think you might be moving in the right direction.”

He kissed her some more, his hands roaming gently over her body until she was light-headed from his caresses. “How ’bout now?” he murmured against her mouth. “Still good for you?”

“Keep going,” she whispered, bewitched by the magic of his mouth. “I’ll tap you on the shoulder when you stray out of line.”

Time and the whole world slowed as they kissed, hands and lips communicating what words couldn’t describe. Eventually Kirk lifted his head and sighed, his face glowing.

“Can we talk now, please?”

“Do we have to?” She didn’t want to spoil this moment of bliss that she’d treasure forever.

“I need to.” Curling his hand around hers, he led her to a quaint, old-fashioned gazebo under the spreading branches of an oak tree. He sat beside her on the wooden bench inside and folded his arms around her, holding her like he’d never let go.

She waited for him to speak, trepidation lurking beneath the surface.

“I want to talk about Alison,” Kirk said, his tone dead serious.

Instantly her heart shied away. “You don’t have to,” she said. “I know you—”

“No, you don’t know the truth,” he said quickly. “Within six months of marrying her, I was ready to leave. I thought I was in love with her, but I’d been infatuated with her looks and charm. Alison was vain, shallow, often mean. She didn’t want a divorce; she talked me into giving it another go, and then she used an unplanned pregnancy to manipulate me into sticking around. After the miscarriage, she was in a bad state, so of course I couldn’t leave her.” A deep furrow lined Kirk’s brow as he spoke, the strain evident in his voice.

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