Living with Temptation (13 page)

“Why don’t you put clothes on?”

“I know you’re upset,” he began.

“Why should I be?” she retorted. “This is a professional
arrangement. And you’re right, we can’t have a relationship.”

Dean sighed. “Chelsea, I want you. So badly. And that’s not
going to change.”

She placed the cup of coffee on the kitchen counter and
stepped close to him. In the bright morning light, his eyes gleamed. It was so
tempting to lean forward and kiss him. But Chelsea didn’t want him without the
promise of a relationship, the security in knowing she would wake up every
morning with him. It tormented her to know he didn’t want the same.

“Let me propose something,” Dean decided. “We can be
together, and keep it casual. Have a few dates every week. I can buy you a
house nearby. It’ll be so inconspicuous the media won’t bother you.”

Chelsea stared at him in disbelief. “Unbelievable,” she
remarked. “You think I want it to be like that?”

“I don’t see what’s bad with it. We’ll be together.”

“You just want to push me aside as another casual fling!
Well here’s a fact – I’m not like that. I don’t sleep around like you do.”

Dean grimaced, but reached out to grasp her arms and pull
her close. She noticed the bulge of muscle in his arms as he did so. A flare of
arousal claimed her but she angrily pushed it aside.

“Chelsea, I care about you. I’m doing this to protect you.”

His fingers felt warm and rough against her skin.

She pulled free of him. “I don’t need protection. I’m not helpless.
Let me propose something to you, Dean. We forget about this. Obviously it’s a
mistake.”

He flinched, and the genuine pain in his eyes pulled at her.

“Don’t say that. I know I can’t promise you we’ll work out…”

Chelsea shook her head. “You know what I told myself after Ryan?
If I was going to be involved with any man again, I wanted it to last. I was
just naïve to hope it would be with you.”

He opened his mouth as if he were about to say something,
but closed it firmly. Chelsea stared at him, feeling as if her heart was
breaking all over again. Giving herself to Dean last night had been a foolish
impulse. Arguing with him felt pointless. She knew how she felt for him, and he
wouldn’t acknowledge his own feelings.
Maybe I just hope he feels the same.

Chelsea lowered her gaze, not willing to look into his eyes.
“I really liked you. Why take me out to the restaurant and play with my
feelings like that?”

Dean swallowed, but she noticed the nervousness in his eyes.

“I wanted to take you somewhere memorable. You were the one
who suggested sleeping together.”

Chelsea rolled her eyes. “I wanted comfort before I leave,
to actually stop this constant need for you! And you call that memorable?”

“Last night was!” Dean argued. He stepped towards her and
she backed against the kitchen counter, her heart racing as her gaze focused on
the curve of his lips.

“Hell, I’m not giving you up.” His lips crashed onto hers, a
rough hand caressing the back of her head.  Dean pressed his bare chest against
her, and through the thin fabric of her dress Chelsea could feel the heat from
his body, his hardness against her inner thigh. Her mind ran wild with thoughts
of him stripping the dress off her.

But then he pulled away, leaving her breathless.

Chelsea stared at him, admiring his firm body. Then her
lower lip started to shake.

“Why do you mess around with me like this? Can’t you make up
your mind?”

“I’m giving you what you want,” Dean decided. “But don’t say
I didn’t warn you.”

She hesitated, surprised by his answer. “What do you mean?”

“You want us to be together. So we will. I can’t see myself
being without you.”

Chelsea looked at him, the firm smile on his face, the
gentle gleam in his eyes. “If you really mean that, then we need time apart.”

Dean pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine.
Silence greeted him. After kissing Chelsea, he left her at home, intent on
surprising her. They both agreed they needed time apart from each other, and as
she stated, time to decide on how they could move forward.

He ran a hand through his hair, still tousled from last
night. Their second night together had been more intense and passionate. And he
knew it wasn’t only the heated attraction between them – his feelings for her
were changing everything.

Dean cared for her deeply. Because of how strong it was, he
didn’t want to acknowledge it. He knew he was hurting Chelsea. Arguing with her
about it made him feel like a jerk, and he hated himself for it but it couldn’t
lead to more. He was a millionaire, he’d used Chelsea for what he intended to,
and they would both move on and go their separate ways.

But damn it, he couldn’t let her go. If that meant a relationship,
then so be it. It wasn’t an instant decision, Dean learnt that from Jenny. If
this was going to happen, he needed to tell her the truth – and everything
about his past. Everything had to be perfect, to measure up to the intensity of
how he felt for her.

Recalling the shock in Chelsea’s eyes upon mentioning he was
sterile, he winced. No doubt she was like any other woman who wanted it all – a
family. That wasn’t even a thought to him. But how would she feel about it in
five years’ time?

Dean opened the door, looking around warily for any sign of
the media. They’d been at the restaurant as he intended, and he told them what he
needed to. Once it would be featured in the press, he would no longer be known
as a playboy millionaire.

That made it easier. No feelings, no relationship to deal
with. Or so he had hoped.

Dean entered the brightly lit store, and went straight to
the alcohol section. After selecting a few bottles of wine for Chelsea and beer
for himself, he idly browsed a few other shelves. She’d enjoyed the champagne
from the restaurant, so he made sure to get an expensive bottle.

Chelsea would be moving out within a few days and he wanted
to give her the surprise he’d been preparing. Not just the sum of money he had
ready for her, but a memorable night. No doubt she hated him for rejecting her.
He needed to find the right words to tell her everything.

As Dean turned away from the snack foods, he heard a curt,
female voice behind him.

“Has she left yet?”

He turned to see Rachel, who was studying him with a smug
expression on her face. Of all the people to see, it had to be her.

“That’s not any of your business.”

“Well, expect this to take some time to clear up your
image,” she reminded him. “It won’t be an instant reprieve.”

“You saw it in the news?”

“Front page of the paper. Smart way of doing it, but aren’t
you worried Chelsea will find out?”

Dean shrugged. “She doesn’t read the paper. And it’s done
what I intended to. Besides, she’s moving out soon.”

He lowered his gaze. As much as he disliked Rachel, the
woman knew how to coax the truth out of him.

Rachel adjusted some items in her grocery basket. “You know,
I’ve known you for years. I saw you grow up, I was the first one to be there
for you after your parents’ accident. You can’t hide how you really feel from
me. You love her, don’t you?”

Dean met her scrutinizing gaze. And then it dawned on him.
The reason why his feelings were so strong, why he couldn’t keep Chelsea off
his mind. It
was
love. Crazy, passionate love. The intensity of it
scared him, but all along he’d known what it meant. The first time he saw
Chelsea at the bank, he knew she was different. Different than any other woman,
and he loved her for it.

A feeling he’d never felt before.
To hell with this,
he
realized.
I love her. I have to tell her.

But it seemed too late. He’d hurt her more than once over
his own repressed feelings. Before he left, Chelsea seemed unsure that he was
even serious.

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does. At first, I hated this idea you came up with -”

“It wasn’t mine.”

“But it may be a blessing in disguise. Chelsea knows about your
inheritance, I assume. Does she want to be with you for your money? Or for who
you are? Because of your image, you’ll rarely find a woman like that. And
you’ve got your future to think about. You aren’t a twenty year old playboy
anymore. You have feelings. Act on them. Don’t hide away like you always do.”

And with that, Rachel turned away from him and walked over
to her husband. The slightly bald man gave him a friendly wave, and Dean
returned it. As Rachel walked away, Dean glowered after her.
Always ends up
with the last word,
he noted. But in spite of himself, he smiled. Her words
had shown him the truth he refused to face.

With Chelsea, he viewed it as a casual relationship, as he
did with all the women before her. But it wasn’t enough – he had deeper
feelings than that, feelings which made him afraid of what he could find with
her. The possibility for a future was there, and he’d been pushing it away,
reluctant to accept the woman who had come into his life.

And again his thoughts went to the single question he’d been
wondering since their last time together in bed – was it love? He knew it was,
he could feel it. It was there.

Dean didn’t want to give her up, but to choose a
relationship, he would be throwing away his lifestyle, his image. Everything
he’d spent years building. To make a commitment was a powerful change, and he’d
been afraid to take that step.

But as Dean stood there, with the alcohol sitting in the grocery
cart, he knew that none of it mattered to him. All he wanted was Chelsea. And
with the façade he’d told the media, he was free. She was his.

Chelsea stepped out of the shower and grabbed a thick towel
to dry off her hair. As she pulled on her clothes, she heard a knock on the
door which made her hesitate. It couldn’t be Dean – he wouldn’t attempt to
knock. A smile curved her lips. If he came in while she was still under the
water, no doubt he would’ve asked to join her or just step in, stripping the
clothes from his body.

No, he wouldn’t,
she reminded herself. She didn’t
even know what their relationship was. Even after Dean said he would give her
what she wanted, it was still unclear. Maybe their brief time apart would help
him realize how he felt.

She walked to the front door, adjusting her wet hair.
Chelsea glanced through the glass panel to see a woman with long, straight
black hair and a hard expression on her face. She hesitated, wondering if she
should answer. The woman glanced up and noticed her standing there.

“Oh, are you Chelsea?”

“Maybe,” she replied warily. “Who’re you?”

“I’m Jenny, Dean’s…”

 “Staged wife, I know,” Chelsea finished for her. Her words
hung there, and an uncomfortable silence settled in. This was the woman who’d
lived with Dean for months. Jenny probably knew him more than herself.
I
have to ask her about his son.

Chelsea unlocked the door and opened it wide. The dark
haired woman smiled gratefully.

“Thank you,” Jenny said, stepping inside. She observed the
house for a moment as Chelsea closed the door and turned to face her. Dressed
in plain jeans and a white peplum blouse, Jenny’s pale skin had a healthy glow.

“So why’re you here? Is this about the money you keep trying
to get from him?”

Jenny pushed her hair back from her face. “He told you about
that?”

“No. I overheard.”

“Right,” Jenny said. Then her eyes widened when she noticed
Chelsea had just come out of the shower. “I’m sorry if I came at the wrong
time.”

“Its fine,” Chelsea assured her. She couldn’t understand why
she’d let Jenny in instead of talking to her. Perhaps it was curiosity. She was
the one woman Dean attempted to be with long term, even if it was staged.

“He told me about you. You claim he has a son. But it’s not
possible, you know he’s sterile?”

She stared at her in surprise. “Uh, yes, but…”

“He’s not giving you any money.”

Jenny leveled her gaze and stood there defiantly. Chelsea
didn’t look away. This woman had the nerve to keep persisting after Dean’s
money, even attempting to blackmail him for it. Obviously he didn’t care much
for Jenny. Her instinct was to feel the same, but she couldn’t help but sympathize
with her. Jenny cared about Dean, but couldn’t have him. Just how she felt.

Jenny pursed her lips. “It was never money I wanted from
him. It was attention. For him to return the love I felt. He isn’t an asshole
like all other millionaires seem to be.”

So she goes for the rich guys.
Chelsea quirked an
eyebrow. “You think he cares? He can’t make his mind up on what he wants! It’s
frustrating, it’s…”

She broke off and ran a hand through her hair.

Jenny clasped her hands together. “Wow, he’s really gotten
to you, huh? He never really cared for me. A guy can say it easily, but a woman
can tell how he feels, it’s in the eyes. Bluntly told me nothing would happen.”

Chelsea hesitated. “Why’d you keep trying?”

“Because I love him. You can’t relate to being in love with
someone and never having it returned. Few people can.”

Silence fell between them. Chelsea smoothed strands from her
face, her damp hair plastered to her skin. “I’m not dating him.”

“Hon, you’re living with him. Eventually you’ll fall for
him. It’s how he plays his game.”

“What happens between me and Dean is not your concern.”

“Oh, but it’s the media’s,” Jenny said slowly, in a tone
revealing she knew something Chelsea didn’t. “If you aren’t dating him, you
should check out today’s paper. Bottom of the front page. But I’m tempted to
believe you. Always trust a woman’s words over a man’s.”

Chelsea swallowed, confused by her proposal. It had to be
the restaurant dinner, when the paparazzi snapped photos of them. What made it
front page material? She pushed her concerns aside. The media were intrusive.
But she could clearly remember the look on Dean’s face, and it troubled her.

She cleared her throat and ran her gaze over Jenny. “Why’re
you here?”

“To warn you about him.”

“Message received,” Chelsea said wryly. She glanced behind
Jenny towards the door, hoping to catch sight of Dean. For a millionaire, she
was surprised he didn’t have security around the place. Recalling how he
refused to rely on anyone, a brief smile curved her lips. He was equally as
stubborn as her.

Jenny had arrived here to put her off Dean, to make her
doubt him. She was still in love with him, and jealous, Chelsea noted.

“You should probably go now.”

Jenny nodded and turned towards the door.

“Oh,” she said suddenly, spinning around to look at her. “He
isn’t sterile. He did it by choice. A vasectomy. He never wanted a
relationship. Never believed in love.”

“And I’m not going to believe you.”

“Think about it. He’ll pretend he wants a relationship when
he has another motive. I’ve known him longer than you.”

Chelsea pursed her lips. While it was true that Jenny knew
Dean better than her, she couldn’t believe a word she said, not while she still
loved him.

“It’s not really his son, is it?”

Jenny didn’t hesitate. “No.”

The sudden silence between them spoke volumes. Chelsea waved
her hand dismissively. “Thanks for stopping by!”

The woman left and closed the door without another word.
Chelsea leaned against it and sighed loudly, running a hand through her damp
hair. Part of her felt shaken for inviting her in, but Jenny’s words bothered
her more. She didn’t know exactly what happened between them – Jenny loved
Dean, but he didn’t want her.
Did he act the way he does with me to her?

The vasectomy had to be a lie. Dean promised her the truth,
and she’d believed him. Chelsea’s gaze went to the side table in front of the
couches. The paper was sitting on top of it. Every morning Dean brought it in
and threw it out without reading. This time he’d forgotten.

Chelsea stepped away from the door and bit her lip, hoping Dean
would return soon. It was better to ask him directly than go by what Jenny
said. She walked over to the couch and slumped onto it, taking care to keep her
knee at a good angle.

After Jenny mentioned her in the news, her curiosity was too
strong to ignore. Thinking back to the restaurant and Dean’s expression,
something happened between him and the media. And he was hiding it. She
recalled the moment she met him at the bank, wondering about his motives. As
time passed, she believed he did this for her out of kindness.

Jenny mentioned him having another motive.

Chelsea’s brow furrowed. She couldn’t think of any reason,
unless…
the media.

She leaned forward and took hold of the paper, unfolding it
and smoothing out the creases to see a photo of her staring wide eyed at the
camera, Dean sitting opposite her. Her mouth fell open as she read the headline.

‘Interrupted Proposal.’

‘New Jersey’s notorious millionaire, Dean Westley, planned
on proposing to his long term girlfriend, Chelsea Levin – but his plan went
awry when two local media reporters interrupted their romantic meal.’

Proposal. Long term girlfriend.
Chelsea dropped the
paper, hearing it land on the carpet. Her mind was spinning and she reached
back against the couch to keep her balance. She doubled over, her stomach
churning as every moment she shared with Dean came back to her.

The walk on the beach. The meal at the restaurant. The times
he insisted he couldn’t give her everything.

Reality hit hard, a sharp sting in her chest, a painful blow
to everything she believed she had with Dean. Tears blurred her eyes as she
lowered her head to stare at the paper. The truth was blatantly displayed right
in front of her.