Rule's Seduction (The House of Rule 4)

He expelled a harsh breath and shook his head, his eyes looking away momentarily as he fought for calmness before locking on hers once again. “Wrong.”

She swayed and he steadied her with firm hands. “I’m not wrong. I’m tired and wet and cold—but I’m not wrong.”

“You’re wrong, baby,” he reiterated as he rubbed his hands over her upper arms and shoulders, trying to warm her up.

She took a deep breath and seemed to stiffen her resolve as she broke away from him and took a step back. Tears tracked down her face and the knowledge that he was responsible for them almost annihilated him. “Explain it to me, then,” she said in a low-pitched tone that told him that her feelings were utterly raw.

He looked away, not really wanting to reveal all his family secrets but knowing the truth was the only thing that would convince her. The only thing that might possibly take that sadness from her eyes. She deserved the truth.

He cleared his throat and looked back to her. “Okay—here it is. When my father died, his last words to me were of venganza for what had happened to his younger sister. I never thought it was right, but I felt a strong sense of responsibility to honor my father’s memory, and to fight the battle that might help his soul finally find peace.” As he spoke, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself—he ran his finger up and down the silky length of Erin’s cheekbone as he continued, “And the situation did piss me off. Maybe if my aunt’s child—Nora—hadn’t been ripped away from us it would have been easier for me to see that my father had been wrong to pursue retaliation. Maybe if it hadn’t devastated me as well, but having Nora close by was always a reminder of what had happened. It was a double loss for us—my aunt dying far too young and then Nora being taken away from us as well and handed off to another family as if she wasn’t ours—thank God she was too young to remember any of it. My father worried about Nora until the day he died and then—I don’t know—it seemed as if it were my duty to assume his worry. I know it doesn’t make sense, even I see that now. But right or wrong, that’s the way it was. Worrying about Nora became an obligation for me—and as you know, I didn’t handle it so well.”

He stopped and waited for her to speak. Her eyes were locked with his—he could almost feel the increased beat of her heart and it gave him a measure of hope. “Go on,” she whispered.

“Although I knew that revenge against your family was wrong and unjustified, I couldn’t get over the guilt of not fulfilling my father’s dying wish. So, to make myself feel less guilty, I hired an employee to monitor the Rule Corporation—and hoped that maybe I would be able to forget about the whole thing. And I came pretty damn close to achieving that. But then a land deal came up in the Florida Keys—close to Miami, where the youngest of your brothers had situated himself. The deal seemed to be the way to legally screw your brothers out of a lot of money, but as you probably know, Garrett didn’t go for my bait. That attempt to get back at them seemed to be the last straw for me. I was beyond frustrated and tired of everything—I decided I had my own businesses to run and I didn’t need to be hampered by any more bullshit. I’d just about given up the entire idea of revenge when, by a fluke, I found out about you—that you existed.”

Her eyes clung to his, her nostrils flaring. “And—” she prompted.

“And after I found out about you, I investigated—saw your picture and that was it.”

“That was it?” she questioned softly.

He let out a terse laugh. “Yeah, baby. That was it. Your social media accounts were easy for my man to find—and hell—shortly after that, I became obsessed.”

“Obsessed?”

“Obsessed, sweetheart. I began stalking you online—continuously. Do you have any fucking idea how gorgeous you are?”

Pink highlighted her cheekbones as she shook her head, just once.

“Yeah, well, you are. It was easy to keep track of you—too easy, really. I watched your Facebook and Instagram accounts obsessively, just to see you living your life. I wanted to be part of it, even if I wouldn’t admit it to myself at the time. You became my guilty pleasure, baby. But the thing that really let me inside your head? Your blog.”

She sucked in a breath as realization and something akin to hope dawned in her eyes. Covering her mouth with her fingertips, she whispered, “The closet—my dressing room. The Oriental rug—the chaise—the chandelier—Oh, my God! The atrium!”