Seducing His Secret Wife (Mills & Boon Desire) (Redhawk Reunion, Book 2) Page 4

  “Why are you here, Justin?” Sarina asked, noticeably not inviting him inside. He wasn’t surprised; there was nothing easy about her.

  “Can I come in? I need to talk to you about the divorce proceedings,” he said as he cast a disgusted glance around the hotel. “And we need to talk about your current accommodations.”

  Her eyebrows shot up at the last part, and then her eyes narrowed into be-careful-what-you-say slits. “Did Adam send you?”

  “Nope. In fact, he told me not to waste my time.”

  “So my brother is smarter than you are. Good to know who the brains and the beauty are in your relationship,” she observed, stepping back to let him in the room.

  It was as bad as he thought it would be. Shabby carpet and curtains in colors that were muted from sun exposure and many washings. The bed was unmade and there was an overwhelming smell of bleach wafting up from the linens, which made him feel better about the cleanliness of the place. None of it changed his mind about her staying here.

  “At least you still think I’m pretty,” he joked, scrambling for something to say now that they were alone and face-to-face in this odd place.

  Sarina paused in her hurried effort to pick up a jacket thrown over the arm of the only chair in the room. She looked him over, nice and slow, not hiding the heated approval that slid across her expression. “Justin, my thinking you’re pretty is how we got in this mess.”

  And there it was. He moved in closer, so they were standing chest-to-chest, close enough for him to see the flash of humor that battled with the attraction in her eyes.

  Close enough to hear her growl.

  “Did you just growl at me?” he asked, taking a step back just in case it really was her.

  The bedcovers next to him moved and he jumped back, not sure what the hell was going on. The growling got louder as the thing under the covers crept closer and closer to the edge of the bedspread. Then, after much wiggling and growling, a small white fur-covered face appeared in the opening. With teeth bared and long pointy ears projected from each side of its head, it looked like something from a science fiction movie.

  “Did you pick up Baby Yoda in Vegas?”

  Sarina scoffed, lifting the creature in her arms and cradling it against her chest. It was a little white dog, a Chihuahua with big buggy eyes and wearing a tiny black T-shirt with Lady Gaga on it.

  “This is Wilma Mankiller,” she said, pressing a kiss to the little head and snuggling her closer. “I found her in a little town in Nevada. She bites.”

  Justin pulled back his hand, taking Sarina at her word. “That’s quite a name. Has she actually killed a man?”

  “Not yet,” Sarina said, setting her down on the floor and watching as she headed over to a bowl of water. “But she’s named after the first woman chief of the Cherokee nation. My Wilma is a badass. She was fighting off a really fat feral cat behind a dumpster at a diner. I had to take her.”

  “Does this place allow pets?” Justin asked, cringing at the worst segue in history. But he needed to get back to the subject of why she was staying in a dump like this.

  Sarina plopped down in the chair. “It does and I can afford it. If you’re here to tell me it’s not the Ritz-Carlton, I know.”

  “Sarina, you can’t stay here. I can afford to put you up in a much nicer place.”

  “I don’t want your money, Justin. If I won’t take Adam’s money, why do you think I would take it from you?” Sarina crossed her arms across her chest, signaling that this was going to be a lot harder than he’d predicted. “This place is fine. I shouldn’t be here that long. Once we put the marriage in the rearview mirror, I’ll be back on the road.”

  “I heard back from the lawyers this morning and it’s going to take six weeks for us to get the marriage dissolved. They think they can get it annulled.”

  “Six weeks?” Sarina scrunched up her nose in distaste. “I didn’t think it took that long.”

  “Apparently, a quickie wedding doesn’t equate to a quickie divorce.” He sat down on the edge of the dresser, doling out the less-than-exciting news he’d received this morning. “The lawyers are drawing up the papers and they are contacting the Las Vegas officials to do what they can to keep it quiet. The six-week time frame should coincide perfectly with closing of the Aerospace Link deal so if we can keep it on the down low, it won’t impact Redhawk/Ling.”

  “Well, damn.” Sarina shook her head in frustration. “My money is going to run out before that happens.” She glanced at Justin. “My bike needs work I can’t do myself and I’m bleeding cash on that bill. I’m going to need to find a job to fund the repair and my next road trip. I still haven’t made it to the Grand Canyon.”

  “I can give you the money,” Justin said. “It’s the least I can do.” He knew the minute he said it and her arms crossed her chest that the answer to that offer had not changed. Time to try another option. “Okay, okay. I’ve got a job for you.”

  “Sure you do.” Sarina scoffed, motioning toward him in a give-it-to-me waggle of her fingers. “Do I look like I was born yesterday?”

  “It’s a real job, Sarina. I swear.” Justin lifted his hand in the Boy Scout pledge, chuckling when Sarina laughed and shook her head in disbelief. “Adam and I started a foundation called Rise Up to offer outreach to kids in the foster system. We provide sports, crafts, music, language lessons, all kinds of things for them. We’re still looking for a new full-time director but we need someone to coordinate stuff in the meantime. I figure with your army background, you could do this in your sleep. I know you perfected organization and dealing with people in the service. All I need you to do is organize some activities for the older kids, be a presence at the center, show up for them. This will be a walk in the park.”

  “Foster kids? Still in the system?” Sarina was interested and he knew enough from her background that she had a lot in common with them. “Private home placement or group home?”

  “Both. And these kids are getting ready to age out so we’re helping them prepare for it. We offer them some support after they age out, but we can’t do it forever.”

  “It’s a hard thing for a kid to face.” Sarina considered the offer, reaching down to pick up Wilma and put her on her lap. Her tone remained skeptical but he took it as a good sign that she was still asking questions. “It pays?”

  “Enough to get your bike fixed and for you to put some money away for your road trip.”

  “And this is a real job? Not something made up to just give me a handout?” Sarina was suspicious and direct. “I don’t take handouts, Justin. I’m not afraid of hard work but I want to earn what I have.”

  “Look, while I have enough money to fill your hands and about a million other people’s, I respect your need to carry your own weight. Believe me, I get it. I wouldn’t insult you by making up a job that didn’t exist.” And he really did get it. Being the black sheep in a family of overachievers wasn’t the worst position in the world but it had made him determined to make it on his own. It also made him incredibly stubborn. Justin stood, not ready to take no for an answer. “But I have one condition on the job.”

  “And what is that?”

  He looked around the room and shuddered. “You can’t stay at the No-Tell Motel.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “It’s cheap,” Justin countered, refusing to leave her here for one more minute. He cast another glance around the room and shuddered. “And terrifying.”

  Sarina rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m not staying with you.”

  Justin shook his head. He’d anticipated this. If she wouldn’t stay with Adam, she wasn’t going to shack up with him. “No. You’re going to stay with Nana Orla.”

  Five

  Sarina didn’t like to owe anyone.

  Justin had helped her pack her few belongings, then bundled her and Wilma into his Porsche 911 Turbo an
d peeled out of the parking lot so fast she expected to see a zombie horde chasing them in the rearview mirror. She’d debated fighting him on the move but the bottom line was that she couldn’t afford to stay at that hotel for six weeks and pay for the repairs on her bike. She had some savings after leaving the army but she’d spent a lot of money on her road trip, and the truth of the matter was that it was flowing out faster than it was flowing in.

  She’d spent the morning scouring the want ads for jobs she could walk to or get to by bus. It didn’t matter what the job was; she’d done every kind of work there was to put money in her pocket and food on her table. Honest work was honest work. She wasn’t too proud to clean a toilet but she was independent.

  And while she was currently married to one billionaire and was the younger sister of another, she wasn’t ready to lean on them for her livelihood. She’d spent most of her life trying not to owe people anything.

  Owing people gave them power over you and while it was a given that everybody had to work for somebody, she wanted to choose who had any control over her life. But she also knew when she had to take what was on offer in order to get back to where she was in control of her life again.

  So this job was a lucky break and she’d earn her keep and some cash. She didn’t like the condition of accepting a free room but she really didn’t have a choice. Justin had been 100 percent correct when he’d said that she’d never get her bike fixed if she had to pay for a room for that long.

  This was practical and smart, but she didn’t have to like it.

  But there was something she needed to clear up first.

  “Who is Nana Orla and why is she going to let me stay at her house?”

  Justin chuckled, giving her a side-eye glance as he changed lanes. “She’s my grandmother on my mother’s side. She came over from Ireland when I was five or six years old to live with us. You couldn’t have missed her at the party. She’s loud and bossy and takes no shit from anyone.” He winked at her. “Sound like anyone else I know?”

  Sarina ignored him, refusing to be drawn in by his amusing sex appeal. “And why would she let me live with her?”

  “Because I’m her favorite.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “True story.”

  Sarina sneaked a peek at the man she’d married as they drove toward Nana Orla’s house. He focused on the road, tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the Red Hot Chili Peppers song pouring out of the speakers, so she took the opportunity to take a longer look.

  Justin was still ridiculously hot. Tall and slim, with dark hair and tanned skin, he moved like a man who was in complete control of his life. She’d known he was rich the first minute she’d laid eyes on him. He walked like someone who owned the world around him and could buy several others. Charming and charismatic, his sparkling eyes and contagious smile were the things that drew her to him from jump. Justin was like the pied piper—his sex appeal the only flute he’d needed to entice her to follow him into that wedding chapel.

  Yeah, they’d been drunk but she’d married him because he’d made her feel like she was all he needed. And that was something she hadn’t felt in her life. Ever.

  And that night in the hotel room had been like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Sarina had never felt so wanted or needed or desired. Sex had always been good. She liked it a lot and never felt ashamed of taking what she wanted. But sex with Justin had been...earth-shattering. So gravity-shifting that she’d felt compelled to run as fast as she could the next morning. And now that she’d found him again it was terrifying that the last thing she wanted to do was run. She wanted to stay. To get to know him better. To satisfy her curiosity and figure out why this man intrigued her.

  Which was why she was going to keep as much distance between them as she could until they were no longer bound for better or for worse...richer and poorer wasn’t an issue. His bank account testified that money was never a problem for him.

  Justin glanced over, catching her in mid-ogle. He lifted his lips in a smirk, his eyes dancing with mischief. “To be honest, I thought you’d fight me more on this.”

  She chuckled, turning to face the window and watching the scenery change from the Amanda Jones side of the tracks to the Cher Horowitz suburbs. “I’m self-sufficient, not stupid. I need to get my bike fixed.”

  “And that place was disgusting. Zero stars.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Justin, I was in the army. Two tours in Afghanistan. I can stay anywhere. I’ve stayed in places with no heat or running water. My biggest worry was wondering what would have crawled into my clothes during the night.”

  “Yeah, well,” he said, shifting in his seat and clearing his throat. “You don’t have to do that anymore.”

  “Why? Because my brother is rich?” She snorted out a laugh. “Because I married you?”

  “Well...yeah.” He sounded perplexed, like he didn’t understand why she didn’t just rush out and buy a Rolex or apply for an American Express Centurion card.

  Not gonna happen.

  She leaned back in the seat, turning to look at Justin as they navigated the road up into the hills. “Justin, that’s not my money. Never has been and never will be. I’m not trying to be mean but that’s just the only way this is ever going to be.”

  “I know you didn’t have it easy growing up. I know Adam would like to help you,” Justin said.

  “What did he tell you about my life?” Sarina asked, her voice harsh with the anger that suddenly erupted in her gut. She sat up, the seat belt pressing against her chest with the sudden movement and slapping her back against the leather seats. “What do you think you know?”

  Justin jumped in. “Whoa. Adam told me nothing, but I’m his best friend. It didn’t take much for me to figure out that wherever you ended up after you guys were taken wasn’t great. It upset him. In case you hadn’t figured it out, your brother has a huge white knight complex going on. He takes that shit on like it’s all his fault. I put two and two together.” He cast a meaningful glance in her direction, a mix of confusion and disapproval. He didn’t like her thinking poorly of her brother—and his best friend. That was clear. It made her feel good knowing that her brother had this guy in his corner. “Adam would never betray you like that. He’s the best man I know.”

  Sarina let that sink in, recalling a similar observation from Adam. “That’s funny. He said the same thing about you.”

  Justin huffed out a laugh. “Was that before or after he found out about Vegas?”

  “Both.” Sarina shifted the sleeping Wilma on her lap, smiling at the snuffling snores that racked her little body. “Back at the hotel you said you got that I needed to carry my own weight.”

  “Is there a question in there?” Justin asked, his voice guarded and his body shifting away from her. It was a subtle move but she was hyper-focused on him and didn’t miss it. It was a touchy subject for him, so she’d tread carefully.

  “Just the obvious one. You grew up rich—”

  “And that means I’ve never had to work for anything? I was handed everything on a silver platter?”

  She sighed, realizing that she’d stepped in it. “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. I’m genuinely curious. I want to know what you meant.”

  A long silence stretched out between them. Anthony Kiedis sang about a bridge and she settled back in her seat, totally okay with passing the rest of the ride without talking. She’d learned to live in the quiet spaces and the army had exposed her to every kind of person. She didn’t take everything personally; just because someone didn’t want to share the intimate details of their life with her, it wasn’t the end of the world. Justin didn’t owe her anything. Especially not an explanation of his life.

  If they kept this arm’s length, that would be better anyway. Neither of them needed to form an attachment.

  “Let’s just say that my path to success w
asn’t the one my parents expected me to take. Compared to my brothers and sisters, I was the intellectual runt of the litter,” Justin said, his voice flat with the effort to try not to sound like it mattered. But it was obvious that it mattered...a lot.

  “You did okay, more than okay,” Sarina said, stating the obvious when they were sitting in a car that cost over one hundred thousand dollars.

  “I proved what I needed to prove,” Justin answered, turning into a driveway framed by a pair of elaborate metal gates. He rolled down the window, keying in a code that opened the gates and let them onto the property. “I never had to prove anything to Nana Orla. She accepted me just the way I was.” He flashed her a grin, but Sarina didn’t miss the genuine affection in his eyes when he talked about his grandmother. “I told you I’m her favorite.”

  Sarina sat up straighter, the large estate spreading out as far as she could see. Landscaped grounds spilled into water features and orchards that opened up to a majestic Spanish-style manor house that sat nestled into the shelter of the rising hills. She leaned forward, jaw dropping at the sheer mass of the mansion. It looked like something featured on one of the reality TV shows that had nothing to do with actual reality. Instead of pulling up into the circular driveway, Justin followed the road around the mansion, heading past an elaborate garden and pool area straight toward a smaller home set in the middle of a grove of orange trees.

  The house was built in the same style of the mansion, but it was much smaller. Large enough to hold a few bedrooms, it was bigger than any house she’d ever lived in. With pots of flowers on each side of the front walk and a hand-painted welcome sign on the door, it was inviting. Staying here would be...nice.

  A smaller pool and patio with a firepit and barbecue were nestled next to the house, just beyond the two-car garage. Justin pulled to a stop in front of it, turning off the car and waking up a grumbling Wilma, who growled at the disruption to her nineteen-hour-per-day nap routine. Sarina shushed her, stroking the silky soft fur between her ears and getting a doggy kiss reward.