Chapter Seven

Danielle barely waited for the door to close before she threw the bolt and nearly sprinted for the shower. As she scrubbed the scent of him off her skin, she couldn’t decide if she should be livid or seriously freaked out by his proclamation.

Who the hell did he think he was, giving her a goddamn timeline to get over it? Oh, of course. Silly her for forgetting.

He was Grayson freaking Harper.

She grabbed her body wash with more force than necessary and nearly took out an eye when it sprayed in her face. “Goddamn it.” Another fault to lay at his feet.

How the hell was she supposed to magically get over the fact that he lied to her, repeatedly over the course of several weeks, gave her mind-blowing orgasms, and then tried to bully his way into her life in a permanent way?

God, he really was just like Dad.

Her father never stopped to consider that someone might not agree with him—he just bulldozed over their protestations. Just like Grayson was trying to do to her.

Well, she wouldn’t stand for it. He’d give her a week? He could take his week and go jump off a cliff. She didn’t know if she could get over this betrayal, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to do it on his timeline.

With her pride surrounding her, she should have been walking tall coming out of the shower, but the reality was that she felt more like huddling into a ball and waiting for it to all pass. She wished she could blame the twisting up of her stomach on a hangover, but it’d be a dirty lie.

She wanted to call Grayson and yell at him, if only to hear his voice.

“Get a hold of yourself. He’s a bastard who lied to you. He doesn’t deserve a phone call, let alone one an hour after he left.”

A knock on her door startled her nearly out of her skin. She clutched her towel to her chest as Chelsea poked her head in. The redhead frowned at the room before turning her amber eyes on Danielle. “I thought you said you wouldn’t be home today, but then I heard you talking and assumed you had company…”

She tried to force a smile. Her best friend had things coming together in a seriously fantastic fashion, a husband who loved her to distraction, and was finally, truly happy for the first time since they’d known each other. She didn’t need Danielle dumping her emotional bullshit at her feet. “Just got home early.”

Chelsea narrowed her eyes. “What happened?”

Her life would be a lot easier if her friend were stupid. Still, she tried one last innocent look. “Nothing.”

“Why don’t you try that again?” She shook her head. “I always know when you’re trying to BS me because you look innocent. Did that ever work on your father?”

“More than you know.” Mostly because he’d never been around to worry about what she was up to. It took getting in over her head in trouble to make him actually pay attention to her. Cliché, yes, but it had worked. When Chelsea perched on the edge of her bed and patted the mattress next to her, Danielle joined her with a sigh. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Are you sure?”

She wasn’t sure of anything anymore. She’d been so certain things were one way, and then the world had gone and turned itself on its head. It made her want to punch something—preferably Grayson’s perfect face.

On the heels of that thought, she shook her head. She didn’t want to hurt him. Except she most definitely did. God, she didn’t even know what she wanted.

Chelsea gave her a sympathetic look. “I take it things didn’t go as well with the mail guy as you had planned?”

“Funny thing, that.” She laughed, though it came out like a sob. “It went perfectly. Best sex of my life.”

“If it went so perfectly, then…”

“He’s not the mail guy.”

She frowned. “Now I’m really confused. Did you sleep with someone else? I thought you really liked this Grayson.”

“No, and I do—did.” She buried her face in her hands. “He’s not the mail guy.”

“But I thought you’ve been having lunch with the mail guy?”

Danielle lifted her head. “He isn’t the mail guy. He’s Grayson Harper, owner of Harper and Company. He lied to me about everything.”

“He pretended to be the mail guy? But… Why?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? “Maybe he’s a psychopath who likes playing with innocents’ emotions.”

Chelsea laughed and then slapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t the best of times to point this out, but—Dani, you’re no innocent.”

“That doesn’t make what he did okay!”

“No, of course not.” All laughter disappeared from her face. “What happened?”

“I went to the party. Things were going so well—did I mention the hot sex?” Even thinking about it now sent a shiver down her spine. His commands, the way he touched her, the way he fucked her… It felt as if he were putting his mark on her. Anger rose because he had put his mark on her. She didn’t know if she was going to be able to get over this, and how the hell was she supposed to have sex with someone else? It was all downhill from here.

“You might have.”

“He asked me to be his girlfriend. No, he didn’t ask. He flat out told me that’s how things were going to be.” Unable to sit still, she pushed to her feet. “Why did he have to lie? He ruined everything.”

“While I’m not excusing his lie, I’m not exactly sure why you’re this angry.”

“Chels, he’s the Mr. Harper. He owns that building and five others just like it in major cities across the US. Someone doesn’t get to that level of power without making some serious sacrifices along the way.”

“I agree. What does that have to do with the present?”

She was going to make Danielle say it. “I grew up with a man like that. I won’t get stuck in a relationship with one. You know me. I know me. We both know I can’t play second fiddle to anyone and be happy, let alone to someone’s work.”

“Have you ever considered the fact that not every powerful man is like your father?”

Had she? “I’ve met more than a few of them. They’re all bulldozers, and they are all willing to sacrifice their families to get what they want.”

“While I don’t disagree with you on the bulldozing aspect, the rest isn’t universally true.” She held up a hand when Danielle started to protest. “I think you’re forgetting that I come from a family of men—and women—like that. And while I’m not exactly the poster child for a healthy family, my husband is also one of those people now. And he puts me first every single day.”

“Then you’re one of the fortunate few.” She didn’t want to be jealous of her best friend, but she couldn’t help the bitterness clogging her throat. She didn’t begrudge Chelsea her happiness—she was just so damn tired of her wants and needs coming in second with the men in her life.

“My point being that you have no proof this Grayson is like your father. Don’t you think his making time to have coffee with you several times a week is a good sign?”

Her father couldn’t even manage to make it home before her nanny tossed her in bed most nights of the week. “I guess.”

“What’s stopping you from giving this man a chance?”

She gritted her teeth. “Because he told me I had a week to get over this and then he was coming for me.”

“Excuse me?”

All her pent-up agitation exploded in a shriek. Danielle slapped the wall and then cursed. “Goddamn it, that hurt. Chels, he stood there in our kitchen and told me I had a week before he came looking for me. Then we’d talk, whether I wanted to or not.”

A dangerous glint came into her friend’s eyes. “Then, by all means, whatever you choose, don’t make it easy on him.”

“I have no intention of making anything easy on him.”

…

Two days later, his irritation had finally worn down enough for Grayson to admit he might have made a mistake. As soon as he’d gotten home, he’d put in an order of chocolates… And received a call a few short hours later to let him know the delivery had been refused with some choice words. Irrationally, that had only made him more determined to win Danielle over.

More chocolates, flowers, tickets to a show she’d mentioned two weeks ago that she wanted to see. All were turned away. As more time had gone by he was forced to the unhappy realization that he might have fucked up beyond all reason.

It was obvious gifts wouldn’t win her over, so he went back to the drawing board. As he stared at the blank screen of his laptop, he cursed himself to hell and back for letting things get so out of control. He should have been honest with her from the beginning and avoided this mess.

The problem was that he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if he’d told her who he was, she wouldn’t have given him the time of day. Her instant dislike of any man she deemed too similar to her father was too ingrained. All she saw was his title—not the man behind it.

He’d hoped to get around that since they’d spent so much time together. He knew Danielle. And he’d been pretty confident that she felt the same, especially when she’d trusted him enough to come up to the office that night. Grayson’s skin heated at the memory of her bent over the desk, completely willing to follow his commands.

Would she ever trust him like that again?

That was the clincher. He wanted her for more than the fact that she’d been the best sex of his life, for more than the stolen moments at the coffee shop. He wanted those sparks of humor that lit up his day, the conversations that made him lose track of time, and the vulnerability she let him see when she climbed into his lap and let him wrap his arms around her.

He wanted it all.

So what was he going to do about it?

That was the million-dollar question. He hadn’t been lying before—he couldn’t let Danielle go without a fight—but he was at a loss as to how to proceed. His money and position actually counted against him when it came to her opinion. He dropped his head into his hands. Everywhere he looked, he saw memories of her. The coffee shop downstairs. The elevator. Here.

Being in his office was sheer torture. He couldn’t look at the goddamn desk without seeing her naked on top of it, or sit in the stupid chair without picturing her there with him. In the short time they’d been up there, she’d successfully imprinted a memory of her on every inch of this space that had been his before.

He couldn’t live like this. He missed her with an ache that there was only one cure for. Danielle. How the hell could he miss someone he hadn’t truly had to begin with? Grayson didn’t know. He felt like he didn’t know anything anymore.

If these types of grand gestures weren’t working, he had to try something else. His fury had turned into something closer to desperation. There had to be a way to make this right. There had to be something he could do.

He lifted his head and frowned, an idea forming. There might be a way…

…

Danielle curled up on the couch, the final scenes of The Notebook playing for what felt like the millionth time in the last five days. And she just kept crying. The broken shards in her chest only got worse with each gift Grayson tried to send. Did he think she was some cheap whore, whom he could just buy off with flowers and chocolate? Apparently so, because he hadn’t shown his face since he walked away from her the night after Halloween.

She wished she could keep riding the wave of self-righteous anger, but it had petered out around day three. Tuesday. The day she and Grayson usually met in the coffee shop. A small, weak part of her had wanted to go just to see if he’d show up. Instead, she’d hidden in her office and taken the stairs, determined to avoid any accidental running into him.

Even though she craved the sight of him.

It was more than that now. Before, she’d enjoyed their conversations and ogling his gorgeousness. Now, she knew exactly what lay beneath those nice duds. She knew he could bring her to the edge of orgasm with a spoken command, and that he made her feel like the most cherished woman in the world when he held her.

She knew that he’d wanted a relationship with her.

In the cold light of day, she’d been forced to admit that to herself. If this was all just a game of Fool the Idiot Woman or whatever, he wouldn’t have tried to push a commitment—he would have just enjoyed the night and disappeared. Which meant maybe it hadn’t all been a lie.

The kicker of it was she could see why he hadn’t come clean. If she’d known who he was from the beginning, she would have instantly brushed him off. Her distrust for any and all powerful men made it impossible to do anything else.

But what if she’d been wrong?

As much as she didn’t want to admit it, Chelsea had a point. Neither of them had fairy-tale childhoods when it came to their parents, but her best friend had managed to find a powerful man who doted on her and was nothing like their fathers. If she could find one, that meant surely there were others out there? Nathan, Chelsea’s husband, wasn’t the type of man to miss a single event of his child’s life, from kindergarten graduation to sporting events to parent-teacher conferences. Danielle knew, because she’d heard them talking about their future children one night and he’d been pretty damn determined not to repeat the mistakes of his absent father.

Would Grayson be the kind of man to value those same little milestones?

She smiled through her tears. If her time with him was any indication, he would move heaven and earth to get what he wanted, and he wouldn’t neglect it. That being said, he needed to learn a thing or two about dealing with a Kastien. The steamrolling thing was sexy in the bedroom, but she wasn’t a dog to be brought to heel because he deemed it necessary. Those meaningless gifts weren’t going to do a damn thing for her.

But…

She couldn’t let this thing with Grayson go for the sake of pride. Not when she’d gotten more out of their coffee conversations than she’d gotten out of every single one of her past relationships. That was before the insanely good sex. A connection like that didn’t come along more than once in a lifetime. She wiped her eyes. Was she really considering a future with him? A real one? Danielle snorted. “No, I’m considering a fake future.” God, she was dramatic.

The credits started rolling at the end of the movie, taking away her excuse to sit there crying. Okay, she might as well lay it out there. There had never been another man in her life who was so totally content with the person she was and with the dreams she had. He encouraged her like very few people in her life had, all without trying to mold her into what he wanted. And, hell, he brightened up her week like nobody’s business. If he could do that with a few short hours, how much more so could he do it if they were actually together?

She wanted Grayson, even though he lied to her, even though he was the freaking CEO of Harper and Company. So the question remained… What was she going to do about it?

A plan dawned, so ridiculous she wanted to rub her hands together with glee. She’d make this right with him, and she’d give him a chance—and hope to God he wasn’t going to throw her trust back in her face.