Chapter 8

EIGHT

BASH

I wanted Rowe Prince.

This wasn’t a surprise—I’d wanted him from the moment he’d slid into my hiding place at the gala and told me he was a quirky billionaire. But talking with him, hearing the light, husky sound of his laughter and the stutter-gasp-sigh of his breath when we touched, seeing the way his brown eyes went soft and melty when he looked at me—all those things that couldn’t be faked—had made me want him even more.

I’d found myself, for just a second, wishing that this could be real. That he could be real. And that had been a fucking shock.

Dev was right. I needed to know who this man was, to separate the lies from the truth, before this went any further.

“I, uh… I think I’d better go.” Rowe’s voice sounded thready with nerves, and his eyes kept darting from the window to the door like he thought he might be arrested at any moment.

“Please don’t.” I squeezed his hand in reassurance. “Stay. Tell me the truth.”

“Yeah. I owe you that much.” He let out a long, shuddering sigh, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “I don’t even know where to start. My name is Rowe Prince. I-I mean, I guess you figured that out already?”

I nodded. “I know who you are. What I don’t know is why you did it. Why pretend to be Sterling Chase?”

“It’s kind of a long story. I wanted to get into the gala so I could talk to Justin Hardy, like I told you. I really do have a project I want to pitch to him. That part was true.” His eyes implored me to believe him.

I squeezed his hand tighter. “Christ, sweetheart, what did you think would happen when you actually met Justin and he realized who you were? Did you think he wouldn’t care that you’d been impersonating someone?”

“I never intended to impersonate anyone, I swear! The project…” He blew out a breath. “I’ve spent years working on it, Bash, and weeks and weeks here in New York trying to get an incubator or development company to show an interest in it, starting with Sterling Chase. But one after another, every company’s turned me down flat. I’m running out of money. Out of time. Justin is the last potential contact I have. So I figured, okay, maybe the project doesn’t look great on paper. I don’t have the right credentials or contacts. My cover letter’s not exciting enough. But if I could talk to Justin face-to-face, if I could get him excited about the project, that could make a difference.” Rowe chewed his lip. “So I got an invitation to the gala, I borrowed my cousin’s tux, and I showed up. I didn’t know whose invite I’d gotten until I was already wearing the name badge, and then it was too late. I fell behind a potted plant, and there you were, and…” He shrugged.

“And you got caught up.”

Rowe gave a watery chuckle. “Yes. God. Worse than ever before, yeah. And suddenly, I was talking in a funny voice, and making up stories about Borneo, and giving Miranda Baxter-Hicks fashion advice, and riding in a fancy car, and staying at a swanky hotel, and talking to horses, and kissing in the barn… and I never expected it to go this far.” His big brown eyes were wide and innocent. “You might find this hard to believe, but I’m not a very good liar most of the time.”

I laughed out loud and ran a hand over my face. “God.”

“And I kept saying to myself, ‘You should tell him, Rowe. He seems like a nice guy. Maybe he’d get it.’ But I couldn’t, because…” His face, which had been pale with nerves, flushed pink.

“Because?”

“Well, two reasons, I guess. I kept telling myself it was because I just didn’t know if you’d get it. Like, what if you were angry? What if I’d blown my opportunity to get this project made because I’d trusted you when I shouldn’t? And I couldn’t take that chance because getting this project made… I’m not just doing it for myself.” He licked his lips. “Do you remember I mentioned my s-sister?”

He stumbled over the word, and I frowned. “Yeah. You said it was complicated.”

“Not so complicated, really.” Rowe’s words came tumbling out of him like he’d been damming them up for an hour. “Daisy died. Ten years ago.”

“What?” I blinked at him in shock. “She died ?”

He nodded. “It was this random, fluke accident. She was playing softball at school, like she had a hundred times before, and a softball hit her in the chest.” He rubbed his own breastbone and stared at the lamp over my shoulder like his mind was seeing something very different, then went on softly, “She was standing there smiling one minute, on the ground the next. And I kept waiting for her to get up and start screaming at the pitcher, you know? But…” He shook his head sadly. “She didn’t. Later, they told us a million little electrical impulses misfired at once, and her heart stopped. The coach used an AED machine to shock her, but it didn’t work. The ambulance came, and they tried, too, but…” He pulled his hand away so he could wrap his arms around his waist, curling into himself protectively. “It turned out she had a heart condition we didn’t know about. It all happened so fast… Suddenly, it was just over. She was gone. We were fourteen.”

We . Jesus Christ. Daisy was his twin.

“Rowe…” Not for one second did I doubt that he was telling the truth. Liar he might be, but the raw ache in his voice was unmistakable. I reached out to run a finger over his wrist, just a light touch because I couldn’t resist connecting with him physically to make sure he knew I cared. To make sure he knew I heard him deep inside.

Rowe’s voice shook as he continued. “We’d always been a team. The Prince twins, taking on the world. But Daisy was the brave one. The one with all the plans to save the environment, to achieve world peace somehow, to find true love. The one who’d pull me away from my sketchbooks and make me join the three-dimensional world again. After she died, I was… alone. And I didn’t know how to navigate life when the best part of me was gone.”

“That’s not true. Fuck, Rowe, I’m so sorry you went through that, but you’re wrong—”

He smiled a little. “I know. Or, more like, I figured it out eventually. One day after a counseling session, I was sitting outside, and this voice in my head that sounded exactly like my sister said, ‘Listen up, dork face. If part of you died with me, part of me lives with you. So stop wasting our time and do something.’ She always used to talk like that, you know? Wasting time, running out of it. Like she somehow knew she wouldn’t have much.”

I tugged on his arm until I had his hand safely gripped between both of mine once again. I wanted to take him in my arms, but I wasn’t sure he’d welcome that. So many facts I’d accumulated about this man slotted into place. The things he’d said to Constance at the gala. Even the things he’d said to the horse back at the barn. Rowe had been crushed by the shitty hand life dealt him—just like Dev had, just like Silas had—but now he was using that loss to propel himself toward something better. To take his idea, whatever it was, and make it a reality.

He let out a shaky breath. “So I got off my ass. I got out the sketchbook I use for design ideas, and I started hatching ideas for this project instead. And when I tell you I had no idea what I was doing, I mean if I’d set out to learn rocket science in Russian, it might have been easier. I had to research the fuck out of things, and teach myself technical shit that still seems over my head sometimes, and be brave enough to ask for help. And once I got it to the point where I thought it could really be something good and useful, something that would help people like Daisy, I saved up my pennies and came to New York—”

“And then put on a tux and went to a gala.” I nodded. “I get it now.”

“I couldn’t not try , Bash. And I can’t fail. I don’t want to let Daisy down.”

The shell around my own heart cracked.

“I didn’t set out to lie. Not really. I mean, not beyond getting into the gala,” Rowe continued in a rush. “Just find Justin, beg him for a meeting, and leave. And if it had worked out like that, maybe the whole stolen-invite thing would just be a funny story I’d tell at parties.” He scrubbed at his eyes with his free hand. “I mean, if you do something reckless and get caught, people call you a fool. If you do something reckless and succeed, they call you daring and brave. Right?”

I huffed out a laugh. “You might have a point.”

“But anyway, Justin wasn’t there, and you were , and you noticed me, and…” Rowe shook his head and stared at our joined hands. “Well, that’s the second reason I didn’t tell you the truth right away.”

“Because I noticed you?” I wrinkled my forehead. “I don’t get it.”

“Ugh.” He tugged on his hand, but I wouldn’t let him go. “You gave me that smile. You were so kind, no matter how ridiculous I was. You did the eyebrow thing that made me go all hot. You made me laugh, even when laughing was the last thing I wanted to do. You brought me those damn prosciutto bites. And it felt like you were on my… my team , Bash, when I hadn’t had a team in forever. I was caught up,” he whispered. “Caught up tight . And if I told you the truth, all of that would have gone away. Poof . So I was Cinderella, telling myself just one more dance, just one more, just one, before I re-pumpkin-ated.”

I sucked in a breath through my nose.

By the time he finished this diatribe, Rowe was breathless, his hair was a curly mess from where he’d run his hand through it, and he looked on the verge of tears.

Meanwhile, I felt his words like a hard jolt of caffeine to my system, making my heart beat faster and excitement buzz beneath my skin. He felt this, too. He felt the connection between us as powerfully, as illogically, as I did.

“And what happens now?” I made myself ask. Despite the man’s heartfelt story, despite how much I wanted him, I forced myself to remember that he could still have ulterior motives—billions of them. Whether he was telling the truth now or not, how foolish would it be to trust him? “You’ve told me the truth. Aren’t you afraid I might spoil your plan? I could go to Justin Hardy myself right now and make sure you don’t get that meeting.”

I wouldn’t, and not only because I tried to pretend Justin didn’t exist. But Rowe didn’t know that.

He nodded slowly, his face pale. “I guess you could, yeah. You could tell the real Sterling Chase who I am, tell all the guys on the board since you’re friends with a couple of them, and they could tell everyone they know.” He drew himself up as tall as he could, like he wanted to meet his fate bravely. “But lying sucked, too. When you kissed me in the barn earlier, it was the most incredible—” He broke off with a headshake. “But it wasn’t really me you were kissing, and deep down, I knew that. And even when I was telling myself, ‘Just a little longer, just another hour or two,’ I knew I was making things harder. Worse. Because the more time we spent together, the more I wanted… and the harder it was to remember that guys like you don’t go around kissing guys like me. Not in real life. So, I’m glad you know everything now. I wish I’d made myself tell you sooner. And I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

Ah, fuck. He sounded so freaking young. Because he was young.

What had I been doing at twenty-four? Well, not impersonating a billionaire, no… but only because I hadn’t had to. Instead, I’d had the equally audacious idea of founding a company with my best friends, even though none of us had really known what we were doing. If we hadn’t already had my family money and connections, it all might have ended very differently, especially for my friends who hadn’t had trust funds to fall back on.

Rowe was right—the only difference between being labeled a reckless idiot and a daring entrepreneur was whether your plan succeeded or failed.

My heart gave up its last attempt to harden against him, and the need to hold him in my arms intensified.

“Rowe, do you know who I am?” I asked softly.

“Well, I know you’re not a PA. But your name’s gotta be Bash since that’s what everyone…” He blinked, and I could see the gears in his mind turning. His forehead crinkled for a moment before his eyes widened in realization. “Oh, no. The woman downstairs earlier called you Mr. Dayne. As in Sebastian Dayne . I didn’t put it together until now.” He squeezed his eyes shut and thunked his head against the back of the couch, revealing the pale skin under his chin. “You’re on the board at Sterling Chase.”

The urge to run my lips across that skin and down over his Adam’s apple, to nudge his collar down with my nose and inhale the intoxicating scent of his skin, was nearly overwhelming.

“I am,” I agreed. “Which is how I knew you weren’t Sterling Chase from the very beginning. From literally the moment you introduced yourself.” I leaned toward him, no longer fighting the magnetic pull. “Because Sterling Chase is the name of the company, not a real person.”

“I freaking told Joey—” He frowned. “Wait. So all this time, you knew I was…”

“Inventing a quirky billionaire persona who was a cross between British butler and someone on Real Housewives ? Yes.”

I expected him to be annoyed, but instead, he exhaled in shaky relief. “Oh, thank fuck. I was worried that when the real Sterling Chase came back, you’d be in trouble. Or that you’d have to call the police and testify against me for identity fraud.” He covered his face with his free hand, then pulled it away a moment later. “Wait, are you going to call the police?”

“Rowe. You’re not hearing me.” I grabbed his hand, then the other, and brought both to my lips. “You remember I already knew your name before we started this conversation, right? I’m telling you, I knew last night that you weren’t Sterling, and I invited you to the polo match anyway. As of this morning, I knew exactly who you were and where you were from, and I knew you’d been lying. When I kissed you… I was definitely kissing Rowe Prince.”

“Oh.” He looked up at me again while the air seemed to shimmer around us with heated possibility. “ Oh . So, then…”

“Wait. One more thing.” I took a deep breath and screwed up the courage to set a critical boundary even though my gut—and my heart—wanted nothing more than to make this man’s dreams come true. “Look, I cannot hear your pitch, okay? I am not going to put in a good word for your project to the development group at Sterling Chase. I don’t want that between us.”

Big brown eyes blinked at me. “No, of course. Shit. I’d never ask you to do a special favor for me.”

That was what everyone said. Maybe it was even what everyone wanted to believe about themselves. But I knew for a fact that people could and would and did .

Rowe, however different and special he might be, was not immune.

“Also… I can give you contact information for plenty of people at incubators here in town who are decent humans. Please don’t pursue Justin Hardy anymore. He’s unscrupulous, and I don’t want him to take advantage of you.”

Rowe bit down on his bottom lip… which made me want to free it so I could bite on it myself. “Thanks for offering, but you don’t have to do that, Bash. I’ve already contacted more than a dozen companies, and there was no interest—”

“I know a lot more than that,” I insisted.

“Now you’re just bragging,” he teased, but he sobered quickly. “I think you’ve got the right idea. Let’s not talk about business or any of this tonight, except…” He twisted in his seat until he’d gotten to his knees and pressed a hand to my cheek, forcing me to look at him—as if I could possibly look away. “I know we’ve both told a lot of lies in the past day, but I’m truly sorry for my part in it, Bash.”

I tugged on his hand until he got the message and moved over to my lap, straddling me and wrapping his arms around my neck. The edges of his lips turned up, and his eyes danced.

“I’m sorry for your part, too,” I said with a grin. Rowe’s mouth opened in indignation, but I pressed his lips with a finger. “Let me finish, tiger. I can’t honestly say I’m sorry I pretended to be your PA. Truthfully, I wanted an excuse to spend more time with you. I find you incredibly, overwhelmingly attractive, Rowe Prince.” I paused, watching the emotions play over his face. Shock, disbelief… hope. “I want you naked in my bed.”

Rowe’s eyes widened again, and his cheeks flushed. “You do?” His voice came out breathy and unsure.

I nodded and leaned forward to brush his nose with mine. He was intoxicating. My brain cells had clocked out and fucked off to god-knew-where. My body was now fully under new management, and it was taking all of my self-control not to start ripping Rowe’s clothes off.

“That kiss in the stable,” I murmured before brushing my lips along his jaw, “was entirely too short.”

“Y-yes.” His voice was even breathier now, and his chest heaved between us.

I kissed the edge of his lips. “Stay with me. Just for this weekend. No business. No lies . Just the two of us. Just… this.”

“Yes,” he breathed again, turning his face to brush our lips together more fully. “Please.”

Kissing Rowe felt like a strange kind of high, one in which I was euphoric but still sharply lucid. I catalogued every detail, from the heady mix of soap and the faint trace of hay coming from him to the little sounds of submission he made in his throat. The tiny plastic buttons on his shirt were a Sisyphean task for my shaking fingers. When one finally cleared its buttonhole, another three seemed to take its place.

“Want you,” I admitted, inhaling the warm skin behind his ear before pressing my lips there. “Wanted you from the moment you skidded into me at the gala.”

His fingers tugged on the hair at the back of my neck. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admitted. “But I want you, too.”

I cupped his face and met his eyes. “Have you been with a man before?”

His cheeks were already patchy pink from our kissing, but they darkened as he spoke. “N-not really,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to, and it definitely wasn’t for lack of trying.” He let out a nervous laugh. “Back in Linden… well, there weren’t a lot of opportunities.”

Too bad for the assholes of Linden. Their loss was definitely my gain.

I ran my thumbs across his warm cheeks. Making him feel safe was a priority. “What do you want tonight? We’ll only do what you feel comfortable with.”

Rowe let out a soft laugh. “Uh… everything? My sex resume includes a couple of hand jobs with guys who turned out to be jerks. I promise anything we do tonight will be a thousand times better… Honestly, it already is.”

I leaned forward to feel his cheek with my lips, murmuring against his skin. “Do you want my mouth on your dick? Or my cock pressing inside your tight ass? Tell me what you want, Rowe.”

The strangled hitch of his breath almost made a laugh bubble up in my chest. He was so fucking sweet. My words had been a test, a small push to get his gut reaction. But his reaction hadn’t been in his guts as much as in his pants. His cock tented the front of his jeans enough to draw my attention. I reached down to rub him through the fabric. “You like that, hmm? Like hearing me talk dirty? Like knowing what I want to do to you?”

He leaned forward and hid his face in my neck. “You’re going to kill me. I’m going to come in my pants and humiliate myself before I even get to see you naked,” he groaned.

I laughed into his hair, landing kisses in his soft curls and enjoying every second of teasing and touching him. This was a thousand times better than I’d ever anticipated.

“Come to my bedroom?” I whispered against his ear. “I’ll take off my clothes before debauching you, I promise.”

He arched against my hand and let out a whine. “Just… tell me it won’t just be one time, okay? Because the second I see you naked, I’m going to come, I just know it, and the only thing that will help me overcome the horror is knowing I get another chance to try again.”

I moved us forward to the edge of the sofa before hefting him up and walking toward the bedroom with him attached to my front. His erection pressed against my stomach, eliciting a breathy, sensual gasp from him with every movement.

He was the sexiest fucking thing I’d ever seen.

“Oh, there’ll be more than one chance,” I rumbled in his ear. “I damn well guarantee it. We have the whole night, and I’m thinking… one chance for every lie you’ve told.”

“There were kind of a lot of lies,” he reminded me doubtfully, wrapping his arms more tightly around my neck.

I bit down gently on his earlobe, and he shuddered in my arms. “Exactly.”