Page 68 of The Bargain

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

Opal stopped mid-bounce and then turned around slowly. I was aggravated by the way her shoulders tensed just at the sound of my voice.

“It doesn’t matter,” she replied but I’d seen how she’d looked downstairs. It mattered.

I sighed, rubbing my bearded cheek. “It does. She used to be my -” I twisted my mouth to think. Opal wasn't a fan of degrading terms for women. “Casual fling,” I finished, quite pleased with the terminology I'd picked.

Nodding, she started bouncing Timothy again.

I noticed her high heels were discarded in a corner and so I looked down at her dainty little feet. Her nails were painted red. Her feet were just like her, graceful and delicate.

I let my eyes trail up her shapely legs, narrow waist, and perky breasts. They'd filled up in the few months she’d been here. Eating her fill had given her curves I didn’t suspect she could have.

“Helle has the ability to bend the truth the way it fits her.”

She turned around, Timothy now asleep peacefully against her chest. Lucky little bastard.

“So what she said was untrue?” she tried tentatively. There was a little bit of hope in her voice - hope I was about to crush.

I sighed, looking down at my shiny black Derby shoes. How I wished I could tell her yes.

I looked up, meeting her eyes. Despite all the things I've already said and done to her, she still looked disappointed, as if she'd actually expected better of me. When she looked away, guilt gnawed its way into my heart - another first.

Placing a sleeping Timmy back in his crib, she nodded.

“You were just a faceless sin before, Opal.” I wasn’t sure why I was trying to justify myself, but I needed her to understand. “For me, you were the woman who wrote this.” I extended the wrinkled piece of paper that had been found in my brother’s pocket. A note I'd opened and read so many times, it was barely in one piece.

She came closer to me and took it from my hand, a small gesture, and yet, it meant a lot; she was willing to give me a chance to explain. This woman was much too forgiving; that was my saving grace.

She looked down and paled before looking back up at me with wide eyes.

“I never wrote this,” she let out on a breath, her hands shaking.

I shook my head. “Yes, I know. I saw the note you wrote to Jeremy. The handwriting doesn't match.” I extended my hand toward her and she placed the note in it, shaking ever so slightly. “But I will find out who did.”

“What’s the point, Mr. Beaumont? It will not bring him back.”

“Please call me Dean. I hate it when you call me Mr. Beaumont.”

“Dean.”

Just the way she breathed my name made my dick twitch in anticipation. This woman was going to bring me down with a smile on my face. I could hardly blame my brother for his addiction to her.

Suddenly, the guilt at my attraction to my brother’s love reappeared, but I pushed it back down. I would drown in my guilt and self-loathing tomorrow, but tonight I wanted to show her I forgave and forgot - at least as much as I could.

After putting the note in my pocket, I extended my hand toward her again. “Come with me.” I put just a little authority in my voice. I knew how responsive she was to commands and as her pupils dilated, I knew my gamble had paid off.

"Where are we going?" she asked, sliding her soft hand in mine, before looking around for her shoes.

“You’ll see.” I pulled her toward me gently. “You don’t need your shoes, come on.”

She followed me, grabbing the baby monitor on the way out. Despite the sexually charged tension between us, Timothy was always on her mind. I admired her commitment as a mother.

She followed me down the corridor silently until we reached my room.

She looked around with a sharp intake of breath. I knew this room was impressive, even by my standards. It was easily three times the size of hers, with a full row of windows giving a full view of the garden.

She looked around, her gaze stopping on the king-sized bed in the middle of the room, a bed that had never seen a woman. This had always been my private place. I’d never even brought a woman onto this estate before. And the few indiscretions I'd had as a young man with pretty and eager-to-please house staff had never happened in the sanctity of my room. But I wanted Opal here, where I’d had so many erotic dreams of her coming undone in the middle of my bed.

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