A Bad Boy is Good to Find(4)

“Poor baby.” He kicked the door closed and kissed her neck, stroked her back. His warm soft lips on her skin, the tickle of teeth, his tongue on her earlobe sent her fears running and stirred up a swarm of excitement.

“Con, wait…”

He didn’t. He kissed her cheekbone and her eyelid, swaying her as she closed her eyes. Already lifting her away to a place where only they existed and where thoughts of—

“Sweetheart, stop…”

He still didn’t. His kissing became more insistent as his mouth roamed over her neck. His hands ran up and down her clingy dress, stirring warmth in her skin and making her breasts tingle.

Before she knew it she was on the bed with her legs in the air and Con moving over her in that magic way that always made her fall to pieces and rise up stronger, no matter how many times they made love.

When they crashed to the sheets together, panting and sweating, she clung to him. Wanted to hold tight to the bliss pouring through her body and soothing her hurt mind.

“Feeling better now, babe?

She nodded, still not wanting to speak and break the spell. She opened her eyes just enough to see his face. His strong features and harsh, masculine beauty always shocked her a little. Usually a neat “short back and sides,” his straight brown-black hair hung in his eyes, which shone in the glow of the light from the hall. Soft with love.

She smiled as he kissed the corner of her mouth. “Why do I always smile when you do that?”

“Because you love me.” He said it simply.

“I do love you. I love you more than I ever thought possible.” She pushed his messy hair out of his eyes, and he smiled too. He lay next to her on the tangled sheets, head propped on his elbow, gorgeous muscles defined even in the scant light.

“Con?” She paused. Was it her imagination or did a tiny crease appear between his eyebrows. Maybe he’d picked up on her odd tone of voice.

“Yes, babe?”

I’m not rich any more.

She hesitated. Not sure what words to use. None seemed to sum up the magnitude of what had happened or to put it in terms that made sense.

“My father said I couldn’t marry you.”

“And what did you say?” There was definitely a furrow between his brows.

“I said I love you, and we’re getting married tomorrow.”

The crease eased a bit. “You had me worried there. I thought you might be about to break my heart.”

“I’d never do that.” Lizzie swallowed. “But about the money…”

“What about it?” He looked relaxed again, a smile spreading across his mouth.

He wouldn’t care about the money—would he?

“It’s gone.” She looked right at him as she said it, wanting him to understand.

Con pushed up higher on his elbow, stared at her like he was trying to make sense of it. “What do you mean?” His smile faded a little.

“My dad gambled in the stock market and lost it all.”

“But your grandfather left the money to you. In your name.”

He did look worried. A saw blade ratchet in her stomach reminded her she’d eaten no dinner. Maybe that’s why she felt lightheaded.

“He did, but I gave my father power of attorney. He’s always managed it for me.” She inhaled a shaky breath. “He’s being indicted.”

“Indicted for what?” Con’s voice had lost its velvet softness.

“Securities fraud. He says he’ll be convicted.”

Con stared at her. Her breathing became shallow, and she struggled to keep it inaudible. Suddenly chilly, she fumbled with the sheet and pulled it over herself. Con had to move to free it from under his body, and she could see tension in the taut six-pack of his stomach.

Panic snuck through her as the frown deepened on his handsome face.

“I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding.” He touched her chin. “We’ll get it sorted out tomorrow.”

“I don’t think so.” Her voice was a breathy whisper. “He said my financial advisor was in on it.”

“So how much is left?”

“I don’t know. Let me check the balance online. Gosh, what’s my password, I don’t even remember it. I must have it written down somewhere.”

The glowing laptop screen illuminated their faces as grim reality sunk in. Not only was there no actual money in her brokerage account, but someone had authorized margin loans worth more than thirty million dollars. The margin had been called and all existing stocks dumped at market price two days ago. With two million still owed.

“Holy shit.” Con chewed his finger in a way she’d never seen him do before.

“My job will be gone too, I suppose. We’ll have to make it on your salary until I find something new.”

Con looked at her like she was speaking a foreign language.

“I know it won’t be easy.” She took his hand and squeezed it. “But we’ll be fine. I’ll have to move out of the apartment since it belongs to my father, but we can find a place of our own. We can live frugally, start saving…”

A new sense of resolve filled the odd hollowness she’d felt since leaving her parents’ house. Maybe in a weird way this would actually be for the best. “I don’t have expensive tastes, I never have. I actually like the idea of living like a normal person. Of having car payments and mortgage payments and having to save for vacations.”

Con still stared at the laptop screen, his lips slightly parted. “Car payments?” he rasped at last.

“You know, buying stuff like regular people do, rather than plunking down forty thousand in cash. I know it sounds rude to ask, but how much do you earn?”

“What?” Con’s dark eyes stared at her, uncomprehending.

“Your salary, what is it?”

“I don’t have a salary.” His voice had a strange sound to it.

“You get paid on a project-by-project basis?”

“Kind of...um, yeah.” He raked a hand through his hair and stood up. The bedside light glazed his firm muscles as he crossed the room, cursed aloud, then strode back. He seemed oblivious to the fact that he was completely naked.

An icy trickle of fear crept along Lizzie’s spine.

“You’re a mechanical engineer, right?” She didn’t like the ugly suspicion in her voice.

Con licked his lips awkwardly and ran his hand through his hair again. He picked up his black pants off the floor and put them on. No underwear.

“Why are you getting dressed? It’s two a.m.”

He walked back to her, took her hand and lifted her from the desk chair opposite the bed. Guided her to the middle of the room and pushed a stray curl out of her eyes.

“Lizzie. My lovely Lizzie.” He squeezed her hands and reassuring warmth rose through her. Then he shook his head, and a pained smile flashed across his face. “I’m not a mechanical engineer. I never said I was.”

“I don’t understand… I thought…” She searched his face.

“I said my expertise is mechanical, and you guessed what you wanted to believe.”