Dirty Pleasures (The Dirty Billionaire Trilogy #2)(39)

He’s losing patience with me. I should care more, but I’m not the one with ex-wives popping out of the woodwork.

“Or what?” I counter.

He releases one knee and brings his arm up, his hand shoving through his hair.

“What the hell is going on with you? Something happened. Because all of a sudden you’re not . . . Holly.”

Fuck it. If he wants to push, I’ll tell him.

“I met someone tonight.”

His face is expressionless when he says, “Go on.”

I pull my knees up and wrap my arms around them, the same way I used to when I sat on Gran’s bed to tell her about school.

“Why didn’t you tell me I’m number three?” I ask, my voice completely devoid of emotion.

Creighton goes very still. “Who told you about Annika?”

“What I want to know is why you didn’t.”

“Who told you?” he repeats, his tone hard.

I drop my arms and shove myself up the bed so I’m leaning against the headboard, arms crossed in front of me.

“Annika told me about Annika.”

Creighton lifts his other hand and rubs the side of his face. “Fuck.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I agree with you. This conversation is best saved for tomorrow.”

Oh, hell no.

“I don’t think so. You’re the one who wanted to know. So now you know. Why didn’t you tell me? You told me about Shaw—why not Annika?”

He rises up from the bed and begins pacing the room. His back is to me when he says, “Because it wasn’t important.”

I blink, trying to comprehend what he just said. She was his wife. How is it possible that wasn’t important?

“It sounds pretty f*cking important to me.”

He turns and paces back toward me. His mouth is pressed into a thin, tense line. “I was young and stupid. It doesn’t matter anymore. It has absolutely no bearing on our marriage.”

I’m processing his words and not liking them one bit. How can a marriage not matter. You don’t marry someone who doesn’t matter . . . unless you’re marrying the woman you had a one-night stand with but can’t find again.

“Is that what you’re going to tell wife number four about me? That it was just some stupid stunt and was fun for a while, but it doesn’t matter anymore?”

“What are you talking about, Holly?”

“You just told me that you married a woman, presumably loved her, and now she’s not even worth a mention. I’m just trying to figure out how women rate in your life after they’ve outlived their usefulness to you.”

“You’re being unreasonable,” he growls. “It was a long time ago. I didn’t love her. It was a whim.”

I cluck my tongue. “Good to know she and I have more in common than I thought.”

His jaw is clenched so tight, I’m almost positive he’s going to start breaking teeth. Finally, he bites out, “You have nothing in common with Annika. Not one f*cking thing.”

All the blood drains from my face, and I’m freezing, even though I’m surrounded by a warm pile of blankets.

“You’re right. She had everything in common with you, and she was kind enough to point out that I have nothing in common with you and am just a toy to be played with while I’m new and shiny. I’m surprised she didn’t sticker me with an expiration date. Although, I hear they’re taking odds on that in Vegas.”

Creighton winces. “That’s not what I f*cking meant. Don’t twist my words around.”

The words are flowing now, and I can’t stop them. “I’m just taking them at face value, Crey. Do you have any other ex-wives hiding in the wings I need to know about? Any secret children or mistresses you don’t think are important?”

His nostrils flare and the muscle ticks in his jaw. I can sense the moment when I’ve officially pushed him too far.





I’m staring at the woman I’m in love with—that’s right, f*cking in love with—and in the space of a heartbeat, I realize she doesn’t feel the same way about me. Maybe she never will.

Pain claws through my chest, matching the fear that tore through me when someone came running to get me after she collapsed at MoMA. Her every breath matters to me more than my own, and she’s completely oblivious.

She’s also oblivious to the fact that she’s finding my breaking point. Years of trying to earn someone’s love and being met with contempt at every turn grips my throat like a stranglehold. I lost my parents to a horrific attack, and instead of being welcomed into a family that would love and accept and comfort me, I walked into completely the opposite, into the care of someone devoid of any feelings that would help a grieving boy deal with the loss of his parents.

Even after everything, Holly doesn’t trust me. Objectively I know I should have told her about Annika, but that is my own private failure, and compared to what I feel for Holly, Annika is completely inconsequential and meaningless. It’s like trying to compare a raindrop to a hurricane.

My words strike like lashes, and the driving force behind them is the knowledge that whatever I thought we were building is nothing but a figment of my imagination.

“If you’re looking for a reason to get out of this, Holly, I’m sure you can find one. I’m not going to beg you to stay.”