Hate Games - Book 1 in the Reckless Enemies Series by Marilyn Cruise - HTML preview

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CHAPTER 15

Present Day

 

Emma was a much more interesting person than I had imagined her to be, which was not very interesting at all. Through our conversation, I found out that she used to be a model for a huge fashion magazine (no surprise there), but had recently started an apparel line and was a major advocate for the Make-A-Wish Foundation, which was how she had met Spencer.

By the end of the 20-minute long drive, I almost felt as if she was my friend. Spencer didn’t seem too keen on us hitting it off like we did but then again, we weren’t asking him.

The limousine pulled up in front of the Marion Oliver McCaw Hall and a doorman opened the door for us. Outside were at least a couple dozen reporters all standing behind partition ropes. I tried not to look too uncomfortable when I stepped out of the vehicle as bright lights burst around me like fireworks. I just wasn’t prepared for the paparazzi to be here.

I tried my best to walk as elegantly as I could in my Louboutin pumps, but it wasn’t easy at all. I was used to wearing sneakers to work, not these torture contraptions. Spencer got out of the limousine behind me, and just as he did, one of my heels snagged on the hem of my dress. I felt myself falling, everything happening in slow motion.

“Shit, Ellie!” Spencer cried. He caught me before I slammed into the red carpet and pulled me tightly against his chest. It happened so suddenly that it took me a moment to realize I wasn’t going to hit the ground. My body still tense, my breath held, I looked into Spencer’s black eyes. I finally inhaled a breath and his clean manly scent was intoxicating as hell.

“Watch your step.” Although he said it in a commanding tone, irritated even, I could still hear there was concern in it. He pulled me up to a standing position. He didn’t let go right away, but held me to make sure I was stable. My gaze lowered to his perfect mouth, to the mouth I had kissed before. And suddenly, I found myself wanting… needing to feel his lips on mine again.

He stared at me, eyes hooded, and all the sensual sensations I experienced back then came rushing back full force. Spencer exhaled a sharp breath and closed his eyes, as if trying to clear me from his mind.

Emma, waiting to exit the limousine, cleared her throat and it was then that Spencer let go of me. I was released from his spell, although my body was still humming with need. He pulled away, leaving me feeling bereft of his closeness. All my body wanted was to be one with him. This was crazy! He had a girlfriend.

“You ok?” he asked.

“I’m good. Thank you,” I said, although I felt one hundred percent boneless, all strength gone.

“Best learn to walk in those Louboutin heals,” he said.

Oh, he noticed. He was paying attention. He didn’t miss anything, did he?

He turned to Emma, and with a deep breath, I cleared my head. Spencer offered her his hand. I watched as he helped her out of the limousine, a jealous sensation spreading through me.

Mike exited the limousine after Emma and offered me his arm. I took the beefy limb and smiled, although unhappily. I reminded myself that I needed to keep my head on straight. I was going to make Spencer’s plan backfire on him, and me being all goggle-eyed and this ridiculously attracted to him wasn’t helping.

Mike and I walked in after Spencer and Emma. We entered the building through the glass sliding doors, and after veering right, we took the elevators to the second floor. Emma and Spencer, standing across from Mike and me, held hands. I made it a point to hold onto Mike’s arm and stroked him. I thought I saw a frown on Spencer’s lips, but I couldn’t be sure.

When we reached the lobby of the second floor, it was as if I’d suddenly been thrust into a stuffy world where everyone looked at me with icy eyes trying to size me up. I grabbed a flute of champagne from a server and inhaled it as quickly as I could, trying to get rid of the nerves that wouldn’t go away.

Mike pressed a hand to my bare back and moved me into a parlor, separating us from Spencer and Emma. He was acting like a gentleman, he looked like a gentleman, but there was just something about this guy that still gave me the creeps.

I snagged another glass of champagne as a waiter passed us by. Mike proceeded to introduce me to several people, and I went on autopilot mode of cheerfulness and politeness. I gathered I performed fairly well since people started to smile back at me and the critical icy gazes thawed a little as we spoke. Or was that the champagne kicking in?

“Ellie!” I heard behind me. I turned around and saw Jane smiling at me. She was dressed in a floor-length coral gown that looked great with her tan skin.

“Jane!” I was happy to recognize a kind face in a sea of unfamiliar ones. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You, too, darling. And who is this fine young gentleman?” she asked.

“I’m Mike Bernstein,” he said, shaking hands with her.

“Oh, yes. You’re Ty Bernstein’s son, right?” she asked.

“Bingo,” Mike said. “Now if you two lovely ladies will excuse me, I need to visit the men’s room.” He walked off, leaving Jane and me alone.

Jane and I talked about the usual pleasantries for a while, but then she became serious and leaned in.

“I must say, Mike is a much better choice than your last date.”

“Why would you say that?” I asked.

She took me by my elbow and pulled me closer, then whispered into my ear.

“Obviously, there are things you aren’t aware of that you need to be made aware of,” she said.

I was curious what it was she was thinking about but didn’t have time to ask as we were interrupted by Mike’s return.

“It was a pleasure seeing you again,” Jane said to me. “I’ll call you tomorrow, sweet dear. Maybe we can have lunch.” She patted me on the cheek, nodded toward Mike, and then she was off.

“Shall we?” Mike offered me his arm. I took it and we walked to the end of the hallway. We stepped into a room that was decorated to the nines in gold and white. A band was playing soothing Blues music in the corner, and round tables were situated around the dance floor at the center. A few couples were already taking advantage of the music and were moving across the dance floor as if they were professionals. Did all wealthy people know how to dance?

I’d never seen so many diamond necklaces on women and so many diamond cufflinks on men. To calm my nerves, I grabbed another flute of champagne as a waiter passed. These events did nothing for me as far as controlling my alcohol intake. I thought if I kept this up much longer, I’d end up an alcoholic… or overweight from all the extra calories.

From across the room, I noticed Spencer’s sister. She was glaring at me with such hatred that it sent a powerful chill through me.

Thankfully, I was relieved from her dagger glare as Mike and I were promptly directed to the front and were seated around one of the two V.I.P. tables close to the stage. When we arrived, I saw that Spencer and Emma were already sitting with four other guests.

“So how have you been, Ellie?” Mike placed a hand on my knee. Under any other circumstance, I would have removed it but since Spencer was watching, I allowed for the unwelcome physical contact.

“I’ve been great,” I said. “I’m working for Spencer for a couple of months and will start back in school in the fall.”

“Really.” His eyes narrowed and he studied me as if he was imagining me without my clothes on. Feeling uncomfortable, I shifted, and his hand fell away from my knee. “Studying what?” he asked.

“I’m in pre-med,” I said.

He nodded. “And you live in Seattle?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“I’ll be opening an office here in a few weeks. Perhaps you could work for me once your gig with Spencer is up.” He winked, then proceeded to reach for my thigh.

“Thank you for considering me,” I said as I cringed at the contact. “But I’ll be in school full time.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice with some extra income?” he asked.

“I make do with working summers,” I said. “I don’t like being stressed while studying.”

I clasped my hands together and placed them on the table. Mike stroked my thigh in tiny circles, and I tried not to grimace.

“I would of course make it worth your while,” he said as he leaned in.

“Thanks. But again, I really will be fine,” I said.

His upper lip curled back, and he pulled away, removing his hand from my thigh. Finally, some personal space.

The lights dimmed and a woman in her mid-forties stepped onto the stage. She announced dinner and not a second later, servers brought out our meals.

While we ate filet mignon, I listened with interest as Spencer talked to our tablemates about the recent downturn in the housing market and the strained business relations with China. I didn’t try to add anything to the conversation since I knew nothing of these things, but I was rather content to listen as he spoke about his future businesses and deals.

When an announcer took the podium up front, he asked that all the donors come up and present themselves. Spencer stood with a handful of other men and two women and walked to the stage. I couldn’t help but notice that of all the people up there, Spencer commanded the most attention and respect. He had this authoritative air about him and exuded confidence and power. I wished I didn’t like it so much.

Spencer took the podium first.

“My name is Spencer King, and as of this week, I am the world’s leading donor, supporting the cause to finding the cure for cancer.” The audience broke into applause.

My heart swelled so much that tears brimmed my eyes. Seeing my dad die from cancer was the most horrific experience of my life. The man I loved with all my heart wasted away and was no more.

“More than thirty percent of men and women will be diagnosed with cancer at some point during their lifetimes,” he said. “Currently, it is ranked as the second leading cause of death in the United States.”

Slowly, I became captivated by him. He demanded presence and attention, but that’s not why I was mesmerized. It was the topic, and the way he spoke about it with such passion, his tone carrying a hint of pain. It hit all too close to home.

“And as some of you know, my mother, Virginia, passed away from this terrible disease years ago,” he said. “We must find a cure. If you will find it in your heart to donate even just a little more than what you had planned, I encourage you to do so. Thank you.” He bowed, the audience applauded, and he offered the podium to the next person.

I had no idea his mother had died from the same disease my dad had.

Another man took the podium and gestured toward Spencer.

“If any of you lovely people have had the opportunity to visit Mr. King’s estate, you certainly would remember his amazing rose garden,” the man said.

A few people in the audience nodded and chimed in in agreement.

“His mother’s favorite flower was the rose,” the man said. “Red roses.”

Spencer shot the man an angry glare, as if he didn’t want that information to be shared. However, the man continued on without noticing.

“Mr. King… I think we can all agree that we would do anything, anything at all, to keep the memory of our loved ones alive.”

The audience broke into applause, and I could see several women dry their eyes with handkerchiefs. Then it dawned on me. That was why Spencer was so upset at me when I’d not planted the roses in the pattern he wanted. The rose garden was in memory of his mother. I felt horrible that I’d made it into some petty game.

Even though other speakers took the podium, I was too wrapped up in my guilt to pay attention. My gaze wandered back to Spencer again. Where he stood, he exuded strength. But there was something else, too. I also noticed the pain behind his stoic expression. The very pain I was all too familiar with. The pain of missing the man who raised me… the pain of knowing I’d never hear his voice again… the pain of knowing he’d never see me graduate college or see his future grandkids…

The pain of trying to keep our loved one’s memories alive.

And suddenly, it was all too much to contain anymore. I stood and made a beeline for the hallway. I needed to find a private place before I broke into a full-on sob. I ran into an empty room, a dark parlor it looked like, and closed the door behind me, the tears falling freely. I had no idea why I was reacting this way. Normally, I was able to keep my sorrow at bay, especially when in public. I took a few deep breaths and gathered myself.

Once I calmed down and managed to pull myself together, I headed into the hallway.

Mike was standing there and walked toward me.

“You ok?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’m good,” I said, trying to blow it off.

“You don’t look so good.” He looked around, checking his surroundings.

“It’s ok. I just needed some fresh air.”

“Here, let’s talk.” He took me by the arm and pulled me into the same room I was just in. Right as he closed the door, he caged me between his arms, holding me captive.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he said. “I’m a great listener.”

“Thanks, but…Truly, I’m fine. I’d like to go back,” I said. My heart rate was starting to go into hyper drive, and not in a good way.

“You can tell me what’s wrong. It’s ok.” He stroked my hair and inched closer.

“I’m fine,” I insisted. “I’m sure the others are looking for us,” I said, hoping that would discourage him from getting too close.

“Oh, baby. I’m sure they understand that we want to be alone,” he said.

“I don’t want to be alone with you.”

“You don’t need to play hard to get. I know how much you want me, baby doll.” He brushed his fingertips across my collar bone. “Don’t pretend you weren’t all over me in the limo.”

Everything inside me screamed that I needed to get away. Now. I was disgusted at the thought of what he might do to me but equally angry with myself for having pretended to be interested when all I was trying to do was to make Spencer’s plan backfire.

I moved his hand away. Straight away he was tugging at my waist and I felt him hard at my lower belly. I turned my face away.

“Stop,” I said.

“Oh, I know you’ll like it.” He pressed himself harder against me. “I’m well endowed, honey. Now be a doll and let me see what’s beneath that dress of yours.”

Refusing to reveal my fear, I looked him straight in the eye and snapped, “Let me go right now or I’ll scream.”

“Oh, honey.” He tsked. “Thanks for the warning.” He thrust a knee between my thighs, and just as I was about to scream, he pressed a hand over my mouth, muffling my voice. It was too late to kick him in the crotch and he was too strong to get away from.

So, I did the only thing I could do. I bit his hand as hard as I could until I tasted blood. He let out a cry and withdrew his hand, then promptly slapped me across the face. I might have noticed how it stung but I had too much adrenaline coursing through my body to feel it.

“Help!” I screamed.

He came at me again, lunging. He yanked me away from the door and dragged me over to the couch.

I went to scream again but his hand was covering my mouth, my screams useless. I struggled as best I could, thrashing as he hauled me and forced me onto my back onto the couch.

Suddenly, as if by some miracle, he stopped. He froze for a second and looked up.

Glancing toward the exit, I saw a dark silhouette of a man standing in the open door. The silhouette walked into the room and Spencer’s face became visible in the moonlight. Relief flooded through me at the sight of him. His eyebrows were tightly gathered in the center and his irises two black holes. The rage in them was unmistakable, so much so that I thought I was about to witness a murder. I’d never seen him as furious as he was now.

“What the hell are you doing, Mike?” Spencer said, his voice low and lethally sinister.

“She wanted to be alone,” Mike said.

“Tell me one more lie, and I’ll have the cops in here in less than a minute,” Spencer said.

Mike stood and retreated away from me. It was then that I realized he had ripped one of the straps on my dress. Still feeling shocked, with shaky hands, I tried to fix it as best I could, to cover up.

“Get the fuck out of here. Now,” Spencer said to Mike. Mike grimaced but did as Spencer commanded, leaving in a huff, slamming the door shut behind him.

Even though the threat was gone, I was still reeling. I glanced briefly up at Spencer, feeling ashamed he had to see me in this vulnerable situation. I hated that he had witnessed me in a helpless state. I wanted to be strong. But the feelings rushing through me were too intense to cover up.

“Ellie. Are you ok?” he asked.

With trembling hands, I held the torn strap up and stood. It was then I realized what had happened… what could have happened had Spencer not interrupted. I looked up at him and completely lost it. I collapsed to the sofa behind me and covered my face with my hands, sobbing.

Spencer didn’t rush to me to console me. Instead, he walked slowly over to me and sat next to me. He sat like a statue, a safe presence protecting me. Carefully, he reached an arm around my shoulders and just held me as I cried for what seemed like hours, my body shivering so. Finally, when I looked up, he handed me a perfectly ironed white monogrammed handkerchief. I dried my tears as best I could.

“We should call the police,” he said.

I looked up at him. “I just want to go home.” I gripped the handkerchief, my hands still shaking. I didn’t want to do anything other than to curl up in bed and forget this entire evening and how stupid I was to lead Mike on… how stupid these games were… how stupid I was.

“I shouldn’t have flirted with him,” I said.

“We should call the police,” he said again.

“No. I really don’t want to. I shouldn’t have flirted with him like I did and… I was just so stupid.”

“What he did wasn’t your fault,” Spencer said.

“I know, but I was… I was stupid…” I rested my forehead on his shoulder and closed my eyes. I just needed to feel safe, to feel human touch, to not feel so alone.

He tensed for several moments before finally reaching the other arm around me, holding me. His hand was warm against my upper arm and he pulled me in close, as if bringing me into a safe haven, a safe haven I’d been long excluded from.

We sat in silence for a long while, him gently stroking my arm and me gradually calming down. For the first time ever, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace in his presence. I wasn’t sure if it was the stark contrast from the trauma I had just experienced, but I couldn’t remember ever feeling so safe.

I lifted my gaze and met his. He wore an expression that I was completely unfamiliar with. The only way I could describe it was that it was tender. Something shifted in the air between us, a barrier that had been there for as long as I could remember slid away completely, leaving no resistance. A powerful shiver coursed through me and he inhaled a sharp breath.

Our foreheads touched, and I closed my eyes just as a tear fell down my face. He reached a hand behind my neck and just held it there. I felt him press his mouth to my cheek, capturing my tears. I still hated that he was seeing me like this—weak. I’d never felt more exposed, more vulnerable, more humiliated. But at the same time, I needed him like I needed air. I desperately yearned for his comfort, his protection, his touch.

His lips kissed the side of my mouth. I tried everything in my power to not shift my head so our lips would join, but it was near impossible to fight the primal need driving me. Our lips brushed feather-lightly and just as I inhaled a staggered breath, he did also. He gripped my hair at the back of my neck and pulled me away from the almost kiss.

Dazed, wanting, I opened my eyes to see his ablaze with desire for me. Every part of me, from my toes to my head, had lit up. And had he made a move I would have let him take me here and now. I no longer was in control of my thoughts or my feelings.

But then it was as if he realized what was about to happen and the barrier between us was back in full force. His eyes turned hard, cold, business-like.

“I should get you home,” he said softly. A steely resolve flitted across his face and he stood. He offered me his hand and I took it. I wasn’t prepared for the intense magnetism I felt at the skin-on-skin contact. In my semidaze, I released his hand.

“What about Emma?” I asked.

“She wasn’t feeling well so she headed home early.” He gestured toward the exit door. “Shall we?”

I walked to the door and he opened it for me. It was an odd feeling having my boss, my Dark Knight, my enemy, treat me this way. For now, there seemed to be a truce between us, and I didn’t know whether I should be grateful or terrified about it. Somehow, playing games seemed so much easier. And safer.

Once inside the limousine, Spencer offered me a whiskey on the rocks. I accepted it gladly and tossed it back as the limousine started moving.

“More?” he asked, eyeing me with curiosity.

“Yes, please,” I replied. He poured me another generous portion and I inhaled that one, too.

He raised an eyebrow and lifted the whiskey bottle.

I shook my head. “Better not.”

The driver pulled out onto the freeway and I thought about everything that had happened tonight. It was confusing to me to see this caring side of Spencer. I hadn’t thought he had it in him. He was a much kinder and more thoughtful man that I had perceived him to be. I thought about tonight, how gentle he was to me. I thought about how passionate he was about helping suffering children. And I thought about his rose garden.

“I’m sorry about your rose garden,” I said. “The pattern…”

His eyebrows gathered together, and his lips squeezed to a line. He nodded once, acknowledging my apology, a silent understanding between us. I could tell something was weighing on his mind by his expression. It was one of regret, as if he knew he had messed up and needed to set things right.

“I take full responsibility for this.” Spencer sipped on his whiskey. “For setting you up with Mike.”

“Why did you set me up with Mike?” I asked.

“He has just gone through a divorce and needed a date.”

“That’s the only reason?” I asked.

He gave me a look but didn’t reply. Obviously, there were more reasons than he was willing to divulge.

“He’s still a friend of yours?” I asked.

He shook his head. “We had a fallout a few years back. There were too many things we didn’t see eye to eye on.”

“Like him trying to rape women,” I said.

“He’s never done that,” he said. Then his upper lip curled. “Not that I know of at least.”

“What was the rumor he started about me?” I asked. My head was starting to spin now, the whiskey kicking in big time.

He studied me for a while in silence as he took off his tuxedo jacket and undid the bowtie at his neck. God, the man was pure eye candy in his outrageously expensive tux. I could see the contours of his muscles beneath his shirt and he moved with refined grace, mesmerizing me. He wasn’t just eye candy… he was enthralling, every part of him drawing me in and making me think of him in ways I really shouldn’t.

I closed my eyes and shook my head, re-centering myself. Where was I? Oh, yes. The rumor.

“I think I deserve an answer,” I said.

He nodded briefly. “That he had paid you to take your virginity. And that you weren’t a virgin, that you had been fucked once before.”

I stared at him in disbelief for several moments. I thought I was far too old to be bothered by such juvenile rumors about me. Even so, hearing about this irritated the hell out of me. It had no foundation in truth. In fact, it was as far from the truth as anything could be. I realized how ridiculous this was and I started laughing. I don’t know if it was the whiskey or what a crazy rollercoaster of an evening it had been or the fact that I was still a virgin, but I laughed uncontrollably and until the tears started streaming down my face.

“What’s so funny?” Spencer asked.

My head was swimming at this point, and I could feel my filter vanishing more for each passing second. It was a bad combination for sure, but there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.

“The funny thing is…” I laughed again, then leaned forward and whispered, “I’m still a virgin.”

I thought Spencer would laugh at that. Or at least crack a smile and see how ironic all this was. But he didn’t. Instead, his face turned red and his black eyes darkened, as if he was thinking he wanted to murder someone.

“What?” I asked, finally able to compose myself. The limousine stopped.

“We’re here.” He opened the limousine door and gestured for me to leave. What, did he think I was lying? Did he still believe Mike? Whatever it was that he was thinking, I wasn’t going to get any answers. That was clear. We were back to being enemies and I wasn’t going to get an explanation, which was nothing new. However, somehow this time, it hurt, deeply. I thought we had turned a corner, that we’d built some trust, that we could stop playing games and be friendly toward each other moving forward as we had experienced a bonding moment earlier. Maybe I imagined it all. All I knew was that the barrier between us was back in full force. I could sense it all around me. I saw it in his eyes.

“Goodbye, Spencer,” I snapped. Angry at myself, but even more angry at him for all the shit he’d put me through, I moved toward the exit.

Before I managed to leave, he grabbed my elbow, stopping me. “Ellie.”

I turned my head and I was two inches from his beautiful face. My breath hitched. I didn’t understand how I could simultaneously be furious at the man and feel this intense attraction. I hated myself for it and wanted to just get out of my head and all the confusion whirling around inside. Being around Spencer was exhausting. But why was I putting up with it? I was a stupid, stupid girl!

“Wha