“Not going to happen,” she retorted. “Now…are you ready to start answering my questions?”
“That depends. Are you ready for the answers — and the price?”
Penny steeled herself. No matter what Dillon told her it wouldn’t change how she felt about Vince and Nolan. She cared deeply for the twins. They’d opened her eyes to a new world and she didn’t regret a second. But a small voice of doubt worried the back of her brain. There was certainly something the twins were keeping from her. And she had a feeling it had something to do with the woman named Isabel. She looked to Dillon who was watching and waiting her response. He looked the part of a lothario, a playboy of the worst kind, except she sensed there was infinitely more to Dillon Buchanan than met the eye. She wanted to know his secrets almost as much as she needed to know Vince and Nolan’s. “Why are there so many secrets?” she murmured, mostly to herself but Dillon answered in a grim tone.
“Because money is the root of all evil.”
“Do you truly believe that?”
He shrugged. “The Buchanans can certainly make a good argument for that belief.”
Penny digested Dillon’s statement and knew she was preparing to wade into deep waters that were possibly more treacherous than she realized but there was no turning back now. Her Papa had always warned her she had the curiosity of a cat with only one life left to lose. But she couldn’t stop even if she wanted to. The questions would hound her until she lost her mind. It was either go forward or quit. And she couldn’t quit. “Who is Isabel?”
Dillon’s expression darkened and a heavy silence settled between them. Penny wondered if Dillon would renege on their deal but something told her he wouldn’t. Dillon swirled the remainder of his wine before downing it in a swallow. “The appropriate question is, who was Isabel. And to answer that: Isabel was the woman before you.”
Penny drew back, inordinately stung by the answer. “Vince and Nolan…they’ve made this arrangement with someone else?”
“Yes.”=
“Oh,” she said, crushed. “I didn’t know that.”
“Did they say you were their first?”
“No,” she admitted, feeling stupid. “I just assumed.”
“Dangerous to assume anything in this life,” he advised, topping off her glass and pouring himself another. “But that’s part of your charm: how willing to trust you are.”
“So where is Isabel now? Do they still see her?”
Dillon laughed but the sound had nothing in common with happiness. “My little dove…Isabel is dead.”
Dead? She drew a shocked breath. She hadn’t seen that one coming. Suddenly, she felt ashamed for the flare of jealousy that had arisen at the mention of the woman before her. “What happened?”
Instead of answering, he countered, his eyes glittering. “I think it’s time for that kiss.”
“How did she die?” Penny said, stubbornly refusing to be distracted by the prospect of feeling Dillon Buchanan’s lips on hers. He placed his glass on the coffee table and moved toward her like a cat stalking its prey. Penny wet her lips, her heart hammering hard enough to leave a bruise, but she even as she was pressed against the cushions with Dillon inches away from her face she tried to stay the course. “Tell me, Dillon. I need to know.”
He shocked her by softly nuzzling the sensitive skin at her neck, murmuring, “Again with the wrong questions, sweet girl,” he said. “The question you should be asking is…what did Nolan and Vince have to do with her death?”
Penny gasped. “What do you mean?”
Dillon pulled away, his eyes hot with sensuality and things best left unsaid. Penny felt as if she were sinking in that gaze, drowning in a dizzying whirlpool of need and want. She swallowed, barely able to breathe. “Time to pay up,” he said softly and descended upon her mouth. His lips moved over hers, teasing, taking, and demanding; his tongue tangled with hers and his hand snaked behind her head to hold her tightly. The feel of his grip at the back of her skull, cradling and yet possessive, thrilled her silly. Wild, heady desire whipped through her, chasing away good judgment like a woman with a broom shooing away a feral cat. The minute his lips touched hers, her soul sang in brilliant tones with wild abandon. She clutched at his back, cleaving to him, pressing her breasts against the granite of his chest, desperate to feel more than his tongue sliding against hers. The banked embers of her inappropriate attraction sparked to life, raging with the force of creation until all sense of reason and propriety were burnt to cinders.
His hand left her head and traveled to her breast, cupping and squeezing, causing her to moan against his lips. She wanted to feel him moving inside her, thrusting so deep until she lost all sense of where he began and she ended. This was the sweetest insanity she’d ever experienced and it was ludicrous and all kinds of wrong but even so, she couldn’t make herself push him away. Good God, no. Being out of his arms would’ve been the cruelest torture at that moment. Her fingers itched to feel his skin, her mouth yearned for the feel of his cock, she wanted to bury her nose against the skin of his thigh and groin, inhaling the masculine scent that was unique to him and him alone.
“Dillon,” she groaned, lost to all sense of right or wrong. His hands, strong and sure, were creating wellsprings of lust and desire everywhere they wandered. Her liquid core was hot, sweat beaded her brow as she twisted beneath Dillon, impatient for more. She made a small sound of dismay when Dillon broke the kiss, his eyes heavy-lidded with need, and somewhat bewildered by what they’d shared. His breathing was as labored as hers and there was a fever to his cheeks that made his eyes burn like twin coals. “What are we doing?” she whispered. “I can’t do this.”
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, staring into her eyes, searching. “Say the word and I’ll stop. But if you don’t, I’m going to take you into the bedroom and fuck you within an inch of your life. Do you understand? This is your chance to push me away and I’ll go. If not…you’re mine.”
Say no. Say the words. Do the right thing. Do not go into that bedroom with him. But Penny did no such thing. And in fact her silence was as much an answer than as if she’d shouted the words. Dillon climbed to his feet and held out his hand. “Come.”
Penny closed her eyes and slipped her hand into his, knowing she was about to step from a steep ledge without checking if she were going to land safely or flat on her face. But one thing she knew for sure…