Chapter 7: King of Deception: Chapter 7

Arabella has gone deathly pale, and I fight my own instinct to pull her close. Comfort her.

This is not like me.

I don’t get all gooey for women, I don’t have a soft center.

But I’ve never been closer to taking back my words as her frantic and wild eyes search the limousine.

And then she makes a dive for the empty champagne bucket, grabbing it and hugging it to her chest as she tips her head down and heaves into the bucket.

“Fuck,” I growl out, reaching out to gather up the silky strands of her hair to hold them back.

I’ve had this hair in my hand before, gathered up in my fist as I watched that stunning mouth wrap around my cock. What she lacked in skill, she more than made up for in enthusiasm. It was the best blowjob of my entire life. I can’t even imagine what she’d be like with some practice.

My other hand comes to her forehead, helping to hold the weight of her head as she empties her stomach.

I know she understands the full measure of what’s happening. What she did with me in that hotel room is a secret capable of taking Kincaid Enterprises and blowing it to the four corners of the world.

It’s also possible that it destroys my family along with it. I’ve been playing every side and that’s a gamble that could backfire.

I hate that I’m the man holding the guillotine over her head. I feel deep in my gut that I should be protecting her.

But that’s not the play here.

Wrongs need to be righted. Futures made and others destroyed.

That thought steals my spine as she falls limply back on the seat. I take the bucket from her hand, opening the limo door, and step out. Knocking on the driver’s door, I hand him the bucket. “Get rid of this.”

He’s professional enough not to ask, but I see his brows rise as he takes the bucket. I climb back in to find Arabella exactly where I left her.

“You want me to end my engagement?” she asks, tossing a hand over her eyes as she leans back on the seat. She looks like she might be sick again.

“That’s right.” I sit next to her, brushing her hair back from her forehead. She’s too limp to resist as her lip trembles, her hands shaking right along with it. Fuck.

“And if I don’t?”

I appreciate that she asked. It makes it easier. “I’ll do it for you.”

She turns to me then, her face so pale, her eyes are like saucers. “You’ll do it for me?”

“I’ll start with Mason and then Preston and then—” She bats my hand away from her forehead.

“Let me out.” She pushes up from her seat, nearly falls and stumbles toward the door.

I easily catch her, pulling her into my lap. At this rate, she’s going to plant face first into the cement.

But she reacts like a wild cat, twisting and scratching in my arms.

“Bella,” I whisper, calmly holding her to keep her from hurting me or herself. “Stop.”

“Let me go,” she cries, a broken sob erupting from her lips. My insides twist again. This is so much more difficult than I imagined.

“I would never hurt you.”

“You are hurting me,” she hurtles back. “Hurting my whole family.”

“I’m not,” I hug her tightly to my chest, the fight ebbing out of her. “We both know I’m doing you a favor. Marriage to Preston would be a prison.”

She goes from wildcat to completely still in my arms. “How do you know that?”

I can’t help myself, I brush a kiss across her forehead, damp with her sweat. She’s laying across my lap now and I slide my free hand into her hair, cradling the back of her head.

It’s a dangerous game I’m playing, holding her like this. I cannot allow any more emotion into this equation. But I can’t quiet resist softening the blow I’m delivering.

I’m well aware she’s weakened my position already. Beautiful, caring, delicate. She’s been caught between prowling tigers. She messed around with me in Hawaii because she’s desperate, confused, and alone. She’s in a trap and lashing out. Looking for comfort and possibly escape.

And I just made that trap tighter.

I rest my cheek on her forehead. “I’ll give you a week.”

“A week to end my engagement?” Her eyes are closed. They flutter open, meeting mine and that’s when I see it. The flecks of gray that color them. The steel that’s under the warm brown.

She sits up, pulls out her phone, and hits a button. She presses another and I hear the ring, a second before Preston’s pansy voice sounds through the speakers. “I’m in the middle of a meeting, Bella. What do you want?”

She hesitates for a moment before she draws in a breath. “I need to speak with you about⁠—’

“Later.” And then he hangs up the phone. I want to punch him in the face. Then again, I’m no better.

For a second, she stares down at it, before she reaches for her finger and pulls the ring off, closing her fingers around it.

Then she looks at me. Our eyes meet and I straighten, sensing what’s coming…

“I’ll break it off tonight.” There is no more tremble in her voice. “But just to be clear, I never want to see you again.”

Then she opens the door to the limo and steps out. She doesn’t even close the door.

I hear the tap of her heels as she walks away.

Fuck.

Maybe I should have listened to Triston. Proposed marriage, offered her some deal of her own. I could have been her hero.

Now, I’m just another villain. And Arabella Kincaid, I can add her to the list of women who hate my guts.