23. Harrison
23
HARRISON
A s I pull up to the building, my phone rings with a number from Spain.
“Christian,” I say when I answer. “What a pleasant surprise. We’re not due to talk for another three days.”
I toss my keys to the valet as Christian’s cough comes over the line. “I’m afraid it can’t wait.”
I stride through the door held by the doorman and straight into my elevator.
“I’m selling La Mer to Mischa.”
My grip tightens on the phone. “What did he offer? I’ll match it,” I go on as the elevator reaches the top floor and the bell dings.
“It’s not a price you can match.” His voice wavers. “It’s over, Harrison.”
I force myself out into my penthouse condo, standing in the middle of the entryway in front of the mirror.
The luxe backdrop blurs. Nothing matters except the man on the other end of the phone.
“You wanted me to investigate my parents as a way to bide time and run up Mischa’s bid.”
“No. I wanted to give you the chance to prove your parents weren’t duplicitous.”
I don’t believe him. “From the moment I rejected your offer of La Mer in exchange for marrying your daughter, you weren’t intending to sell to me.”
I pace the hall, my voice rising.
“This isn’t about honor, Christian. It’s about money and pride.” My laugh is humourless. “You and Ivanov deserve one another.”
There’s a beat of silence, then a second, before he clicks off.
I stare at the mirror.
Even if I was focused on the club here, it was all in service of winning La Mer. Now, I’ve lost the thing that mattered most.
I slam my fist into the glass.
* * *
Rae
I’m standing in the bathroom freshening up, waiting for Harrison to return and trying to deal with Whelan’s arrest.
I need to know if he’s behind it. If he is, I’m not sure how to feel. On one hand, I’m grateful Whelan is being forced to account for his crime—crimes, if what Kian says is true.
But having my business handled so neatly by another person leaves me feeling a different kind of exposed.
The sound of the door jerks me out of my thoughts.
Harrison’s speaking to someone on the phone.
“…wanted me to investigate my parents as a way to bide time and run up Mischa’s bid.”
He’s speaking with Christian.
I’m about to make my presence known when Harrison’s angry voice comes down the hall.
“From the moment I rejected your offer of La Mer in exchange for marrying your daughter, you weren’t intending to sell to me.”
What the fuck?
His next words are drowned out by the buzzing in my ears.
Christian wanted Harrison to marry his daughter? The woman he showed around town? That’s what Leni was talking about him sacrificing for me.
The sound of breaking glass jars me out of my thoughts.
I trip down the hall to the entry and living room.
“Harrison!”
He’s not here.
Fear rises up my throat.
A scraping noise from the huge deck has my head snapping around. I run to the glass door and drag it open.
Harrison is the stiffest person ever to grace a lounge chair. He stares out over the skyline, no jacket, sleeves rolled up.
His hands fall to his sides. That’s when I see the white kitchen towel wrapped around his knuckles, the rusty stains seeping through.
“Shit, Harrison! What happened?”
I drop to my knees at his side.
“Christian sold La Mer to Mischa.” The words are low and brittle. “I’ve been trying to find evidence to exonerate my parents—in London and before. But it was all a ruse to run up Mischa’s bid. It’s over. Everything I’ve fought for the past decade is gone.”
His agony shreds me. I’ve seen him furious, controlling. I’ve seen him caring, wanting. I’ve never seen him broken.
“But why would Christian give you all this time to prove yourself, then go back on his word at the last minute?”
“I offended his pride.”
I shift over his lap, straddling him. “Does this have to do with turning down his offer of La Mer in exchange for marrying his daughter?”
Surprise flares in his eyes that I know. “Yes.”
“That’s fucked up,” I breathe.
“His offer or the fact that I declined it?”
“Both.” What kind of twisted shit is it that a man would trade his daughter for a property? I think of meeting Christian, how devoted he seemed to his family. “If he made you the offer, he must have thought you’d accept it. So why didn’t you?”
Harrison angles his head back against the lounger, looking at me through half-lidded eyes. “You know why.”
I run my hands over Harrison’s jaw, the unshaven shadow rough against my thumbs.
“Whelan was arrested today,” I say. “Tell me you had nothing to do with it.”
His eyes go flat. “He raped you.”
“I know, I was there,” I retort. “Did you know about his arrest when I came to see you at the club earlier?”
His nostrils flare, and I have my answer even without him speaking a word.
“I told you I’m not a perfect man. Sometimes I’m not even a good one. You said you liked that about me.”
“I like that we’re both imperfect and we can figure things out together,” I argue. “Not that you snap your fingers and make decisions regular people don’t get to make.”
He shoves out from under me and I nearly fall onto the concrete patio.
“There was no question about turning down Christian’s offer last summer, just as there was no question about sending Whelan to prison.”
He stalks to the end of the balcony.
“Because you always make the right decisions?” I shout after him.
He turns, the towel falling off his bleeding hand. “Because I fucking love you!” he roars.
Shock reverberates through my body.
He stares down at me, daring me to argue with him.
Harrison King loves me.
This man who buys and sells property, travels the world, pursues vendettas and does it all in a custom suit to hide behind the pain he’s endured and the enormous pressure he’s put on himself, loves me.
I cross to him and pick up the towel. Reaching for his hand, I wrap the clean side of the fabric around his knuckles again.
“I’m glad you didn’t get La Mer from Christian,” I say. “Because then I wouldn’t have you.” My hand slips between the buttons of his shirt, my fingers grazing the scar I know by memory. “People can mark us, but they can’t define us. We can move on and live again and trust again.” You taught me that . “What did Mischa win, really? A pile of concrete built by another man? You’ve taken a warehouse and dreamed it into a place people can be free and feel alive. It’s going to be spectacular. You can make your own legacy as someone who creates, not merely conquers. Tell me you want that.”
Because if he does, he’ll find a way to get it. This man I fell for without wanting to.
His chest heaves, his beautiful blue eyes clouded with pain of his own. He reaches down with his good hand to brush a tear I never noticed from my face.
“I want to want it.”
The cuff on my wrist catches the light, and when he lifts my hand and presses his lips to my wrist right below the bracelet he bought to tell me he wasn’t leaving, I feel a glimmer of hope for him.
Hope for us.