Forbidden Valentine: A Forbidden Novel (4 page)

FIVE

DANI COULDN’T CATCH HER breath. Ransom was insatiable, devouring her mouth like a man starved. She curled her arms around his neck, throwing herself into his dark kiss, exhilarated by his need for her, and hers for him.

Of the few boyfriends she’d had, none had affected her like this man—a near stranger. Someone who was, as far as she could tell, damaged. And not an average, run-of-the-mill kind of damage that nearly everyone in the world experienced.

This was soul-deep. His heart hadn’t just broken. It’d been shattered. And it was obvious to her that he was desperately searching for something to numb the pain. Help him forget. He’d chosen booze, and because of her own past demons, she hated it. Which was why, when he’d confessed his affliction, she’d drawn a line, putting an end to his self-abuse.

Her need to help, to fix, was in full-effect. Her ex always said it was her worst quality. Told her on numerous occasions that she was a fool for caring so much. That it would be her downfall.

Maybe she was and maybe it would be, but at least she would know that, in whatever small way, she’d helped.

And even if Ransom didn’t know it yet, he needed her.

But maybe not in the capacity he was currently aiming for.

As much as Dani loved the feel of his mouth on hers, his tongue dipping and diving into every unchecked corner, stoking a fire inside that threatened to blaze out of control, she knew if she allowed this to continue, she’d be taking advantage.

“Ransom.” With regret, she broke the sensational kiss, determined to end this before it went too far, but Ransom only detoured, licking and nibbling a path down the side of her neck that made her shiver.

“You taste so good,” he murmured against her heated skin. “So sweet. And you smell like heaven.”

Obsession, actually. She’d picked up a bottle on clearance following the holidays…What the hell was she going on about? She needed to put an end to this madness before it got out of control. And with the way her body was responding to his every touch and caress, that moment was fast approaching.

Tunneling her fingers through his hair, Dani formed a tight grip, intending to pull him away, only to hold him closer as his warm, wet mouth found the top of her breast. The way he lavished her body with attention, feasting on every inch of her flesh with an almost feral passion, was addictive. Dani had never had a man react to her that way. It was as if he couldn’t get enough. His hands gripped her hard, one around her hip, the other her right butt cheek. His mouth skated across her cleavage, worshiping her as he forged a path toward her hardened nipples. And his body—hard in
all
the right places—pinned her in place, demanding fealty that she was tempted to give.

Her back hit a wall, rattling a painting, and his knee wedged between her thighs. Heat seared her, clenching her core, and Dani moaned. As his hand left the curve of her ass and slipped around her thigh, her head began to lighten, her thoughts growing foggy.

The only noise between them was that of heavy breathing and the soft lapping of his tongue. When she felt his fingers pass over the top of her thigh and sweep up the center, painting a vivid picture of what he planned to do to her, she clenched her eyes shut and hated herself for what she was about to do.

Reaching between them, she found his hand and gripped it tight. “Ransom, we have to stop. We can’t do this.”

It took him a moment to register her words, and then his head lifted, his glassy eyes filled with questions. “What’s wrong?”

“I—we’re moving too fast,” she lied. Had he been in a different state of mind, she wouldn’t have stopped him. She wanted Ransom with a passion that was fearsome. The kind that had the power to hold the heart prisoner if a person wasn’t careful.

She knew it was too early in their relationship to consider love being a factor, but she’d experienced the emotion before, studied it in movies and read about it in enough books to know that this was how it started. Fierce, undeniable desire coupled with broken hearts, compassion, and raw need. It was the perfect storm.

And she wasn’t ready to be caught up in something so destructive.

She was just days out of a long-term relationship that, despite its surprising inability to destroy her, still stung if she thought about it long enough.

“But I thought…” A look stole over him and he straightened, releasing her slowly and backing away. “Whatever you want, Dani. I’m not going to force you into anything you don’t want to do.”

She knew that look. The one that said that he’d been offended—or hurt. Whichever it was, she didn’t like seeing it on him. Moving toward him, she placed her hands against his jaw, cradling his face and forcing him to meet her eyes. “I do want to,” she said earnestly, “but I don’t want to use you, and I like you enough to say that I don’t want you to regret whatever happens between us.”

“Save me the speech,” he said bitterly and broke free from her grasp with a jerk of his head. Pivoting away, he left her standing there with her jaw open and her stomach lodged in her throat. “I know how this story goes. You wanted to see my scars, and when I showed them to you, you were disgusted. If you don’t want me, that’s fine. There are many more where you came from.”

“Are you suggesting that I’m a dime a dozen? Because I assure you, I’m not. You’d be lucky to have me.”

He snorted. “No doubt I would be.” He cast her a disgraced look over his shoulder. “Just leave, Dani. I won’t hold you here.”

“I never thought you would. But don’t think for one second that I’m such a shallow person that, because you come with baggage, I would think I’m better than you.”

“Aren’t you, though?” Turning on his heel, he strode back to her, towering over her in all his masculine tortured glory. Those dark, formidable eyes broke her heart as easily as they fired her up. “Because if you ask me, a woman like you is wasting her time with a guy like me. I’m ruined, Dani. You saw it for yourself tonight. I’m an alcoholic, and as much as I’d like to say that I can take it or leave it, I’m not sure that I wouldn’t be lying.”

“If you want to change, you can.”

“Maybe I don’t want to. Maybe I like things this way. At least when I have a bottle of Jack to keep me company I’m not thinking.”

She approached him as she would a bear: with caution. “If you didn’t want to change, then you wouldn’t be standing here talking to me now. I’m willing to help you…if you want it.”

His obsidian gaze lifted, so full of doubt and remorse and pain that Dani’s knees grew weak under their heavy weight. If she felt so morose and heartsick just looking into them, how the hell must he feel living in his own skin?

“Let me help you,” she whispered brokenly, her need to help him consuming her. Reaching out, she took hold of that broad, stubborn jaw once again and silently pleaded with him to accept the offer.

Eventually, his shoulders sagged and his breathing—once a heavy, labored rise and fall of his chest—leveled out, and she knew she’d gotten through to him. With a solemn nod, he dropped his chin to his chest and Dani moved in, wrapping her arms around this man that she barely knew, yet felt an irresistible urge to save.

Maybe she couldn’t save everyone, but she knew in her heart that she could save this man.

***

HER NAME WAS DANIELLA Deviche and she was a godsend. Had to be to put up with him. As much as Ransom despised the thought, ask anyone and they’d confirm that when it came down to it, there was little difference between him and his brother.

Rebel lived up to his name, and Ransom wasn’t far behind. Together, they had raised hell as children, and as adults, they were nearly impossible to tell apart.

Just ask Josephine. She was the unwitting participant in a three-way love affair that nearly tore them apart.

But Ransom liked to think he took the high road when he backed off and let the better man—his brother—run off with the woman. In reality, he knew she’d chosen the right man for her.

As Rebel had once told him, he’d seen her first. Therefore, by man and brotherly code, she belonged to him.

And now that they had two infant daughters—twins at that—he’d say Rebel was right. She belonged to him in all aspects, and Ransom belonged to no one.

Perhaps that was why he was such a toad these days. He’d never done well alone, which was why he’d always followed in his big brother’s footsteps and scooped up any and all women who stumbled through his revolving door.

It wasn’t his fault that they had the same taste. As Lady Gaga would attest, he was born that way. But he was man enough to admit that, at the end of the day, the family rift was his fault.

When he’d found out that they were seeing the same woman, instead of taking the high road then, he’d only complicated the matter with a wager. One designed to rip apart all three of their worlds. But he hadn’t cared then. Had only wanted to win.

And he hadn’t. He hadn’t won at all. Unless being alone and lonely was considered a prize, then he had won the damn lottery.

But Dani gave him a shred of hope with her impassioned plea to help him. He wasn’t certain why a woman like her would bother, especially considering they’d only known each other a day. But he was grateful.

He had absolutely no confidence that anything good would come of any of her efforts, but in that moment, he wanted to try. He wanted his life to change, if only to wake up feeling alive again, instead of feeling as if the whole of his future were nothing but days of trudging through muck and counting down the hours until his next drink.

When he walked into his classroom, he wanted to look into his students’ eyes and feel as if he were contributing to their lives. He wanted to feel that bone deep pleasure of knowing that he was shaping who they were as human beings and sending them back into the world better for it.

He hated standing up there at the lectern and seeing their slack faces, reading their lack of enthusiasm and knowing it was a direct reflection of himself.

He wasn’t inspired and, therefore, was unable to inspire in return.

A vicious cycle to be sure.

But Dani was determined to see him through this, and he was determined to try. Assuming his mother didn’t run her off first.

“She’s just a friend,” he told his mother for the umpteenth time.

“Then what’s the problem? Bring her.”

Ransom reclined back in his office chair, running his hand through his hair impatiently. “I don’t know her that well. It’d be awkward.”

“Says who?” she scoffed. “If you know her well enough to call her your friend, then you know her enough to ask her to a damn party.”

Ransom’s eyes widened. The only time he ever heard his mother come even remotely close to cursing was when she’d reached her limits of patience. And yet he couldn’t help the excuse that formed on his tongue nor could he prevent it from spilling out. “Even if I wanted to bring her, I don’t even know if I’ll be able to make it.” On the account that, as far as everyone was concerned, he was still in Florida “finding himself.” He’d been back for a couple weeks, but he hadn’t been up to seeing anyone, so he’d been flying under the radar instead, hoping to milk his alone time as long as possible.

The line went deathly quiet and Ransom sat up, placing his feet flat on the floor. He knew from her silence that he’d really stepped in it. “Mom? Are you still there?”

“I ran into Nina Whitehouse at the florist the other day. We got to talking a bit, and do you know what she told me? She said that her boy, George, took her out for dinner for her birthday. A really nice place down by the river. Funny thing though. She said she saw you there, eating dinner with a lovely young lady. But I told her, no, she must have been mistaken because my son would never leave town and then return without telling me.”

“Mom.” Ransom sighed, unable and unwilling to continue the ruse. Lowering his head, he pinched the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb, thinking.

“Just when were you planning to tell me that you were home?”

“I don’t know.” Maybe never.

“You don’t—” She broke off, clearly upset. Once she’d gathered herself back together, she continued, her voice eerily calm. “I don’t have to tell you how much that hurt me that you didn’t at least call to tell me that you’d made it home safely. I do have to tell you that I’m worried about you though. We all are.”

“Don’t be. I’m fine.”

“What a pack of bologna. Do you really think it’s that easy to pull the wool over my eyes? I spent five years of my life wiping your bottom and another ten drying your eyes. I know when you’re hurting and I know the cause of it and I’ll tell you what I’ve always told you boys. Broken hearts mend.”

“Yes, I know. And a broken heart is proof that it wasn’t meant to be,” he said, repeating the words that’d been drilled into his head since kindergarten when he’d experienced his first crush—and loss—at the hands of Leslie Stephens, a sprite of a girl with red pigtails.

“I’m glad to see you were listening. I was beginning to think you boys were too blockheaded to get anything through. Did you also hear me when I said that there’s a special girl out there waiting for you and all you have to do is find her?”