Having Her: Lies We Tell, Book 2 (30 page)

He’d never had that before. Never had someone be there for him like Kara was.

Oh, it hadn’t all been plain sailing. She was stubborn as hell and they’d had a flaming argument over his application to architecture school. He’d insisted on putting it off for another year and she’d told him to stop being so stupid. Then she’d gone and rung up the university and told them to put through the application.

Bloody woman.

“Sure you do,” Ellie said sarcastically. “I don’t know much about her past and I’m, like, her best friend.”

Out on the deck, Kara turned, stepping back through the doors and wending her way through the building detritus back toward to him.

She hadn’t told Ellie about her past, huh? Well, she’d told him.

Kara smiled as she came closer, her face lighting up. “Who are you talking to?” She raised her eyebrows. “Your secret lover?”

“Sure. I’m talking to my secret lover while you’re standing right in front of me. It’s Ellie.”

Kara lit up even more. “What? Gimme!” She whipped the phone out of his hand before he could move. “Hey, babe! I guess big bro here is giving you all the goss, right?”

Vin watched as she turned away, still talking animatedly to his sister.

A small thread of an emotion he didn’t recognize wound through him. As if he could stand here all day, watching her talk on the phone to Ellie. Watching her lovely face brighten as she chatted to her friend. Hearing her laugh. She looked relaxed, at ease. So much more than a few months ago when he’d first picked her up from that abortive one-night stand.

Was it the baby that had made her so happy?

Because yeah, that’s what she looked like. She looked happy.

The thread of feeling inside him deepened. Shifted. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what it was this time.

Vin turned away, busying himself with checking on the plaster that had been put on now that the walls had been lined.

“Did I tell you, I’ve got a fulltime manager now?”

He turned to find Kara behind him, her conversation now clearly over. She handed him back his phone, grinning. “For the café, I mean. She started last week and she’s awesome. Tom’s pretty happy.”

“That’s good news.”

“Yeah, I know. Plus she’s quite keen on buying me out so I may take her up on the offer.” She looked around the half built structure. “And as for the house… It’s pretty amazing, Vin.”

“You think you could live here then?”

“Oh my God, yes. The view is incredible.”

Something released inside him. A breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “It’s a bit of a drive to the city.”

Kara lifted a shoulder. “I don’t care. It’s worth it just to be close to the sea.” She glanced away, up to the high, vaulted ceilings, the windows going almost to the top to take full advantage of all the natural light. “You designed this yourself?”

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

“It’s so cool.” Her gaze came back to his. “And see, this is why you have to get your architecture degree. Your business is going to go
off
once you’re able to design for people. Especially if this house is an example of what you can do.”

Her praise only seemed to add another dimension to his strange discomfort. He stepped over to a wall, examined the layer of plaster critically. Wasn’t as smooth as he would have liked, this bit. “It took a while to get right. The solar panels take up a lot of roof space. Plus you want to be careful about your window placement so you get as much sun in the house as possible without making it too hot.”

“I can imagine.” She gave him an amused look then shook her head.

“What?”

“You and your eco stuff.”

“Hey, don’t knock it. It’s where the money’s at.” He frowned at a rough bit of plaster. “And it’s important for the industry too. Someone has to start doing this kind of shit. Set an example so people can see it’s a genuine option and not a fad.”

A silence fell and he could feel her watching him. He glanced away from his study of the plaster, meeting her brown eyes. “What is it now?”

“You feel quite strongly about it, don’t you?”

“Yes. I do. Why, did you think it was just about the money?”

“I suppose I did.” She lifted a brow. “Going to thank me for ringing the architecture school and getting them to take your application out of the bin?”

“Kara—”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Fox.”

He pushed his hands in his pockets. Perhaps he should have argued with her more about that. But the architecture thing…it had been such a dream for so long. A dream he’d thought he’d have to put off yet again.

“What about you?” he asked gruffly. “You must have some kind of dream.”

Kara blew out a breath, her bangs fluttering. “Yeah, well, I did. I do. Just…you know. Have a family. Have a normal type life. And that’s enough for me to cope with at the moment.” She bent, picked up a wood off-cut from the floor, examined it. “I think it’s going to take me a while to work out what I want from life. I’ve spent a long time coasting, not really hoping for anything, or even trying for anything, just in case it didn’t work out. In a year or so, once the baby’s born and I figure out how my life’s going to be, then maybe I’ll think about what else I want to do.”

He stared at her. “You want to know what I think? I think that’s bullshit.”

She dropped the bit of wood, not looking at him. “It’s not bullshit.”

“Yeah, it is. You can’t tell me you’re a woman who doesn’t know what she wants.”

Slowly she met his gaze and he could see something burning in the depths of her eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting a family.”

“No, of course there isn’t. But there’s more to you than marriage and babies, Kara.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, thank God I have the patriarchy to tell me what I want.”

Oh no, he wasn’t going to take that from her. Not now. “You’re just afraid to go out and take it.”

A fraught silence fell.

Kara looked away from him, a hand going to the collar around her neck, touching it as if for reassurance. And suddenly he wanted to know exactly what her dreams were. What she wanted from life. She’d given him her body but sometimes… Sometimes he got the feeling she was holding something back. And he wanted whatever that was. He wanted it all.

“Tell me.” The words came out in the same voice he used when they indulged in master-slave play, but he didn’t bother to apologize for it. He wanted to bloody know.

Her dark eyes flicked to his, her fingers still touching the collar. “You really want to know? I want to draw. I want to be a manga artist. I want to be published and sell my own work.”

Well, that made total sense. He’d seen the drawings around her apartment and they were amazing. “You totally should, in that case. We can—”

“And I want to be loved. I want to be loved for who I am.” There was no denying the look in her eyes. It speared him straight through the chest.

Fuck. Ellie was right. “Kara,” he began.

“You don’t think I deserve it?”

Somehow this conversation had gotten away from him and he didn’t know how or why. “Of course you deserve it,” he said, trying to regain some control.

“So why are you marrying me then? When you don’t love me?”

Oh bloody hell. “Jesus, where is this coming from? I thought we had this discussion? The baby—”

“Yeah, yeah, the baby. But what about me? What about what I want? What if I fall in love with someone? And what if he loved me and wanted me to marry him?”

A burst of jealous anger went through him. Which was weird because why should he care if she fell in love with some other guy? His jaw felt tense, his hands curled into fists in his pockets. “But you’d be my wife.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

“You told me you were mine. You gave me that fucking key.”

Her chin lifted, her gaze never leaving his. “But you said I deserved love.”

“Oh, you deserve it all right. You just won’t get it from me.” Because how could he give her love? Love required you to open yourself to someone. Open yourself completely. Made you vulnerable. And he could never be that, not with anyone. It had taken everything he had just to talk about Lillian, share his fears for Ellie with her. And he’d only done that because he owed her, both for her understanding and the comfort she’d given him.

But you felt better afterwards, didn’t you?

He ignored that particular thought.

Kara stared at him. “So what will I get from you then.”

“A husband. A home. You wanted normal. That’s what I can give you.”

“What if I want more than that?”

Vin slowly walked over to her, anger burning hotter inside him. He knew logically he had no right to deny her what she wanted. But his logic had never worked that well when it came to Kara Sinclair. His brain told him she was his and she’d stay his.

He looked down into her dark eyes. “You’re mine, baby. And that’s final.”

She didn’t back away. Met him head to head. “So you’re essentially telling me that even though you won’t love me, you won’t let me find someone else who will.”

He didn’t even bother to deny it this time. “Damn fucking straight.” No, it didn’t make any sense why he should feel so strongly about it, but he wasn’t going to spend all day figuring it out or justifying himself.

Anger glowed in her brown eyes. “I thought you said I deserved love, you bloody Neanderthal.”

“I’m going to give you fucking everything, Kara. Everything I’m able to give.”

“But you’re not able to give love?”

She stood so close to him, all warm softness and the sweet smell of a flower garden. And suddenly his anger spilled over into something else, into desire so intense he almost couldn’t breathe. He wanted her right now. No, he couldn’t give her love, yet he couldn’t give her up either. In fact he wanted to make her even more his than she was already. Put some kind of mark on her. Claim her.

Yeah, she was right. He was a Neanderthal. Or some kind of animal wanting to mark his territory. So primitive and so wrong and yet he couldn’t stop the urge to do it.

He reached for her, tugging her hard against him. Her hands came up, pressing against his chest. Holding herself away. Her cheeks had got pink, the look in her eyes darkening in the way they always did when she was aroused.

“What are you doing?” she demanded huskily.

Vin rested his hand at the base of her throat, his fingers curving around her neck beneath her collar. A dominant hold to remind her of what she’d been to him—his slave. “You wanted to be mine, baby. Remember that.”

He felt her throat move under his palm, the flush in her cheeks deepening. “And what do I get in return?”

“You get this house. Me in your bed. Support and help in whatever you want to do.”

Her mouth tightened. “That’s not enough.”

“It’ll have to be. I can’t give you anything more.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

But he was sick of this conversation. It didn’t lead anywhere pleasant. “Put your head back,” he ordered instead, his voice sounding like he had a mouthful of gravel.

Her eyes had darkened into black. “No.”

“Do it, slave.” He didn’t call her that anymore, but somehow it felt vital she obey him now.

Only she didn’t. Instead she reached up and pulled his mouth down on hers in an aggressive, hungry kiss that knocked the breath from his body. There was anger in it and demand, her fingers winding tightly in his hair, holding him to her. And, Christ, he wanted her. Now. Here. Up against this wall. Claiming her so hard she’d forget all this shit about falling in love with someone else.

He kissed her back, just as hungry, just as aggressively, keeping his hand on her throat. But she wouldn’t be contained. She rose up on her toes, gripping him even tighter than he was gripping her, kissing him even harder. Then she bit his lower lip.

She’d never done that to him before. Never been the aggressor. Never fought him. In their master-slave play she’d done exactly what she was told and when. And sometimes she disobeyed him but he never punished her with force, only with pleasure.

This was different. This was a direct challenge. And as pain fired his nerve-endings, the dominant part of him, the part he still hadn’t fully come to terms with yet, roared into life.

He shoved her hard against the wall, trying to grab her wrists to hold them above her head, but she’d wound herself around him and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to pull her away without hurting her. Her legs were around his waist, her arms around his neck, fingers twisted deep in his hair, her mouth on his, passionate and wild. And furious. So furious. He could feel her anger battering against him like hurricane winds.

In some dim part of his brain he knew why she was angry and that sex wasn’t going to help. But somehow her anger found answering anger in him and suddenly he was just as furious. Just as wild. He reached up under her dress, hooking his fingers into the waistband of the lacy knickers she wore and ripping them away.

Kara only bit him again and this time there was blood mixed in with the fury.