Lap of Luxury (Love Don't Cost a Thing)

“If you are pregnant, I’d never let anything happen to you. Or the child.”

Bethany’s fork clatters onto the plate and sits back.

“If you—”

“I have questions about Mr. Ravnikar and Ciara.”

The bread in my hand suddenly looks as appetizing as maggoty flesh, and I put it down. “Why must you bring them up while we’re eating? You’ve spoiled my appetite.”

“Fair’s fair. You already spoiled mine. Why haven’t you asked me if I know anything about their whereabouts?”

“I’ve had other things on my mind when it comes to you.”

She takes a shuddering breath. “Why me? You’re rich. You’re good-looking. There must be hundreds of women willing to sleep with you and play your crazy games.”

Willing, perhaps. But not enthusiastic and wet, and clinging to me like they never want me to let up or let go. “You already know why. It takes two for the games I enjoy. I wouldn’t have taken you if I didn’t already know you wanted to play, too, my little virgin-that-was.”

Her cheeks turn pink and her eyes fearful. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, if any other man made you feel like I make you feel, you would have given yourself to him already. But you didn’t. You waited for me. The man you deserve.”

Her eyes flick disdainfully over me. “If you’re what I deserve, then I must have been a monster in a past life.”

I throw back my head and laugh. She’s not going to make me angry with her little jibes.

Bethany shakes her head. “Whatever, you crazy bastard. I know one thing for sure. Mr. Ravnikar and Ciara don’t deserve whatever you plan on doing to them, so how about you just drop this revenge plot and we can all go home?”

There’s no going back. Not ever. Not for me, Bethany, and certainly not for Mikhail and Ciara. “Why are you still so loyal to him? He left you behind.”

She shrugs, her expression unhappy. “I missed his call. He had to protect Ciara from you. He’s obviously in love with her, and I’m happy about that. I’m happy in the part I had to play in their relationship.”

I feel my brows draw together. “What?”

“You really thought Mr. Ravnikar could have come up with that scheme to win her all on his own? Please. He’s even more hopeless with women than you are.”

She’s speaking carelessly but I can sense a ripple of her fear beneath the surface. It’s matched by my own gradually unfurling anger as I listen to what she’s saying.

“Bethany,” I growl. “What the fuck has any of this got to do with you?”

She lifts her chin, daring and afraid at the same time. “It’s got everything to do with me. If it wasn’t for me, Mr. Ravnikar would never have fallen in love with Ciara. He would never even have spoken to her. It was all my idea.”

Chapter Thirteen

Bethany

Damir starts up out of his chair and slams his palms on the table. “Bethany. What did you do?”

I meet his blazing eyes. Better that he’s furious with me than thinking we can start some happy little family on the run. “I knew you were a madman. I knew what you’d do to Ciara if you got your hands on her. I coached Mr. Ravnikar on how to be a sugar daddy so he could give Ciara the money you were extorting from her.”

To my amazement, my voice doesn’t shake. I want to shut up because I’m only making him angrier, but his anger is the only tool I have.

Damir’s mouth twitches, and th

en he collapses back in his chair, roaring with laughter. “Misha the sugar daddy! My surly-ass brother is a sugar daddy?”

He keeps laughing as if it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard, and then passes his hand over his face, still chuckling.

“Wait, why aren’t you angry?”