The Billionaire's Craving

Sabela reached for the piece of paper in his hand, but he held it back, out of her reach.

“You have to listen to me first, remember?” he said.

“Fine.” Sabela held her chin up “But I want to see what you’ve written.”

He held the paper up and she squinted. It was a simple release of debt, and probably wasn’t worth the paper he’d written it on. But it was something, and he’d done it because she’d demanded he do it.

It was enough.

His face softened, and he tucked the paper into the breast pocket of his jacket. He moved toward her, and she didn’t back away. When Colin lifted his hand, though, she winced. All he did was caress her cheek, and Sabela’s shoulders relaxed.

Even now, his touch was electric.

“You have to believe me when I say that I don’t want to hurt you. There may have been ulterior reasons for me bringing you here, but things have changed. Don’t you think things have changed between us, especially after everything that happened last night?”

She wanted to believe him. She wanted with every fiber in her being to believe him. But life had burned her one too many times to trust him entirely.

Sabela needed to fully understand the depth of his deceit, and she wanted him to confess it.

And should his motives have changed, she wanted to hear a convincing explanation as to why.

“I don’t think that’s fair play in a negotiation,” she said. “You can’t fall prey to your emotions. You of all people should know that?”

Colin chuckled, but it was dark humor. “There is nothing but emotions in this if you want to hear the whole sordid story. If you really want to hear it, I’ll tell you. Then we can decide where we go from there.”

Sabela started to soften toward him. She desperately wanted there to be a reason for her to stay. Going back to her dismally barren life with Trevor after experiencing luxurious desire with Colin … it was a soul-sucking thought, and she felt guilty for thinking it.

Even if it had only been a short while that she had found herself in Haberlin Chalet, she had found what she might have someday — everything she could ever want.

Colin had helped her get back in touch with the young woman she was inside, and she wasn’t ready to let go of that part of herself so soon.

“Let’s hear the story,” she said.

Colin dropped his hand to motion toward the lounge.

“You’ll want to get comfortable,” he said. “And if you don’t, I do. As hard as this is for you, it’s harder for me.”

The soles of his leather shoes clacked against the floor as he led her to the lounge.

“But I won’t hold anything back. If you want the truth, you’ll get it,” he said.

She only hoped it really would be the truth.

Chapter Thirty-Six

“Come away with me, Blanca,” Colin said.

The two of them sat at a booth in Pinkie’s Diner, Colin’s arms folded upon the slightly sticky table. She looked radiant in her white summer dress, her dark caramel skin beautiful in contrast. Her long, shiny black hair glistened as if it had an inner light. Since they’d been children, Colin had always found her beautiful.

“Papa won’t agree,” Blanca murmured, gaze sinking. “You know he won’t.”

“I don’t give a damn about what your father thinks. I love you, and I’ve proven to the world that I can care for you no matter what.”

Her gaze darted up from the table to take him in, and he saw the innocent beginnings of a smile curl her ruby lips. “You’ll care for me?”

“Forever.”

Pleased, Blanca lifted her chin a little more and smiled widely. Colin’s heart melted, and he reached across the table to take her hand.

“Marry me, Blanca. We’ll elope. It doesn’t matter what your father thinks, because we’ll go somewhere else, we’ll go start our lives over as Mr. and Mrs. Morgan.”

“Blanca Morgan,” she whispered, expression alive with delight.

“The one and only Mrs. Colin Morgan,” Colin whispered back. He squeezed her hand. “Say yes, Blanca.”

“Is there anything else I could say?” she asked, adorably flirtatious.

The laugh that spilled from his lips was one of the last Colin would ever have by her side. A week later, the white summer dress was replaced by a white body bag.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

SABELA FOLLOWED COLIN INTO THE lounge. The beginnings of their relationship had taken place in that room, and now that same space would shape her opinion of him in the future.

The future was uncertain, but whatever it was, she was confident that she could navigate through it and come out on top.

Even when faced with the worst circumstances, she’d always persevered.

Sabela tried to steel herself against what Colin would say. No matter what, she knew that she had to be critical and try to separate her emotions from the facts.

Knowing what was the truth and what wasn’t would be difficult. As the conversation progressed, she’d weigh the conviction of his speech against other parts of it to try to see how truthful he was being.

Maybe he’d be entirely truthful, and she wouldn’t need to be suspicious of him anymore.

As much as she tried not to, she hoped that would be the case.

Colin moved ahead of her to the bottle of scotch sitting on the side table next to the fireplace. He offered a glass to her, but she shook her head. Keeping a level head was necessary for critical judgment.

It was a good sign if Colin felt he could loosen up, though. A looser tongue usually meant honesty.

Sabela sat on the same couch where he’d kissed her for the first time. The top of the bottle pulled free, Colin poured himself a glass and turned to face her. There was silence, and Colin dropped his head to stare into the amber liquid.

“So? What’s the story?” Sabela prompted after a prolonged paused.

Colin avoided her gaze, which was unusual. He seemed almost uncertain, not something she would have thought he could be.

“It has to do with a girl,” he began.

“It always has to do with a girl, I hear.”

She heard him chuckle, but there was no humor in it. She knew that the girl he was referencing had to be Blanca.

All Sabela knew about her was what Trevor told her after the accident. Before he’d clammed up and shut her out, Trevor told her that Blanca was the love of his life. It was why he took the accident so hard.

She’d died while in his car, while he was driving.

“Her name was Blanca,” Colin confirmed. “We met in grade school, and I knew from the moment I met her that she was the one for me,” Colin said.

There was a fondness in the way he spoke that stirred Sabela’s jealousy. It surprised her as much as it disgusted her. She was supposed to be separating herself from Colin, not being jealous of a ghost.

“So you loved her, too,” she said, trying to prompt Colin to continue.

Colin looked over his shoulder at her then.

“Too? No. Trevor loved her, too,” he said. “Blanca loved me first. At least, she loved me for most of her teenage years and through college. We were supposed to get married. When she died, we were engaged.”

Sabela sank into the couch, absorbing the news. Colin had been engaged to Blanca. Trevor had been in love with Blanca.

So it was a love triangle, then.

Maybe Colin wasn’t the stalker Trevor claimed.

“Blanca’s father never approved of me,” Colin continued. “After my mother died my senior year of high school, I left Brent Grove. I needed to find a way to support Blanca, because I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. I ended up at my uncle’s bar while Blanca went away to college. By the time she graduated, I was making a good living and finally convinced her to elope with me. That was when everything went to hell.”

“You mean, the accident happened,” Sabela said.

Trevor had told her that Blanca was his girlfr

iend, but it sounded like she had been dating Colin for a very long time. Which was true? They couldn’t both be.