Stolen Desire (The Lust List: Kaidan Stone #3) Page 2

  “The paps were trailing me all morning, and one hit me. That's it.”

  “I heard you were driving recklessly,” he says tightly.

  “Excuse me? I was trying to lose them. They caused the accident.”

  “Well, you won't have to worry anymore. Charles will take you anywhere you need to go from now on.”

  I sit silently for a moment, my chest getting tighter and tighter until I feel like I'm suffocating. “Did you or did you not have him follow me?” I choke out.

  “Yes.” He doesn't sound one bit sorry.

  “I don't need a babysitter.”

  “Apparently you do.”

  “Wow.” I sink back into the seat, my fists clenched tightly at my sides. My heart hurts. This is the kind of shit my dad used to do to me. Having one of his guards watch my every move so his assistant could punish me for stupid things. “You know the paps weren't all over me before I started dating you. They pretty much left me alone.”

  Kaidan stiffens beside me as we stop at a red light. He stares straight ahead, jaw clenched. “Maybe you shouldn't be dating me then.”

  My lips part, and I cross my arms over my chest. “Why are you doing this? You could have just let the ambulance take me to the hospital.”

  He doesn't answer, just looks straight ahead, driving carefully until he pulls into a parking lot in front of a gorgeous building that looks more like a home than a doctor's office. But a small gold-toned sign out front says Dr. Azim Nassef.

  I get out of the car the second it stops and start marching for the door. If Kaidan wants me checked out, I'll get checked out. Then I'm going home. My heart's beating a wild rhythm in my chest, and my breathing is labored when I reach the door. I really don't feel so good. My head hurts, and all my emotions are threatening to overtake me in a wave. But I'm determined to hold it all in until I get home and can cry alone.

  “Hayley.”

  I whirl around as I reach the entryway. “What?”

  Kaidan's hard expression melts away as he reaches me. He searches my face and brushes a strand of blond out of my eyes. I flinch at the touch, and his eyes soften.

  “I don't care about the paps. I won't let anyone get between us,” he says, his voice low.

  For some reason, his words are like a stab in my heart, and I can't stand looking at him anymore. I push his hand away. “No one else needs to,” I say quietly. “You’re doing a great job of that yourself.”

  I push open the door and walk into the waiting room beyond. The place is decorated like a high-end hotel lobby, with marble floors, Persian rugs, and plush upholstered couches. A crystal chandelier hangs in the center of it.

  “I need your information,” Kaidan says from behind me. I shove my purse at him and stand there as he heads for the front desk. I'm wavering on my feet, suddenly feeling light-headed because I can't breathe.

  The nurse leads us right back, down a hallway with wooden floors and walls decorated with impressionist paintings.

  She takes us to a room that looks more like a boutique hotel room than an exam room—if it wasn't for the line of metal machines against one wall and the exam table in the center of the wood floor.

  Kaidan still has my purse, and I avoid looking at him as he sits down with it in the armchair off to the side of the exam table. The nurse takes my vitals while the awkward silence between Kaidan and me intensifies, and a few seconds after the nurse leaves, a tall, dark-skinned man in slacks and a button down shirt enters.

  “Mr. Stone,” he says in a thick accent, inclining his head. Then he looks at me. “Hayley? You were in an accident, I hear.”

  I nod, unable to speak as he checks my heart and feels my scalp. “Are you sensitive anywhere?”

  I point to my forehead, and he looks at it and checks my eyes again like the paramedics did.

  He asks me the same questions the EMT asked me, but this time I realize I am feeling a few of the symptoms.

  “I do have a slight headache,” I say.

  “I'll get you some pain medication to dull that. Stay awake for a few hours, and monitor how you feel.” He rips a piece of paper off his pad and hands it to me. “If you start feeling any of these other symptoms, you need to get to the hospital immediately.”

  I nod, and the doctor leaves. Kaidan gets up, dropping my purse on the chair, and follows the doctor out of the room. I get off the exam table to grab my purse, and when I do, I can make out murmuring from the other side of the cracked door. Curiosity overcomes me, and I take a few steps toward the door, ears perked.

  “Is your brother well?” the doctor asks.

  “I have no idea what he's up to now,” Kaidan says tightly.

  “And you? Are you sleeping?”

  “Some.”

  “If the drug I gave you isn't working—”

  “It works when I take it.”

  “You should take it every night.”

  My heart thumps harder, and I step away from the door, so I can't make out the words anymore, and sink into the armchair. I shouldn't be listening to that. But why is he on sleep medication? I don't have time to wonder, because Kaidan comes back into the room and shuts the door behind him. I get to my feet and sling my hobo bag over my arm.

  He looks at me, but I can't read his flat expression. The blank look in his eyes makes my chest tighten again.

  “I need to get back to work. Charles is coming to get you and take you home. You can call my drivers any time you need them—until your car is fixed.”

  My heart suddenly clenches, and I let out a little gasp and clutch my chest, breathing fast.

  “What's wrong?”

  I shake my head mutely, and he comes over. “Sit down.”

  I fall back in the chair and try to breathe, but my throat feels closed off, and I'm getting dizzy. “I have a co-pay on my car insurance. I can't pay it.”

  He crouches down to my level and rubs my leg. “Breathe. Take a deep breath.”

  I'm having a panic attack, and that knowledge does nothing but make it worse. I breathe in and out, trying to get enough air as I focus on Kaidan's gold-flecked, brown eyes. They aren't distant anymore.

  I’m so ashamed that he's witnessing this. I don't have these often, but when I do, I can usually hide until they're over. “I don't have my inheritance yet,” I blurt out. “It's… tied up.”

  His brows come together. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean… I'll get it,” I choke out, not wanting to tell him about the condition, about Serena's diamond. “But I don't have it yet, and… I don't have the money to pay my insurance and get my car back.”

  “Don't worry about it. It'll be taken care of.” He squeezes my leg. “Look at me.”

  I pull my gaze from where his hand rests on my thigh, and when I meet his eyes, warmth radiates through me at the look in them. He runs his other hand along my cheek. Then he leans in and presses his lips to mine.

  My body responds to that, and my breath evens out, the panic attack fading. I lean into his kiss. His tongue teases my mouth, and as I open it to him, wanting floods me, and I clench my thighs together to ease the ache of it.

  The warmth of him—the scent of him. If he'd wrap me in his arms and take me again, I'd forget all of this and have that sense of peace like I did as I slept last night.

  But he pulls away too soon, running a gentle hand through my blond hair.

  “Charles will be here any minute, and I'll have him stay with you. Let him stand outside your door to dissuade any aggressive paparazzi.”

  “I don't need—”

  “Please.” His expression is pleading, and I don't understand the veiled look in his eyes. My annoyance at him having me followed fades, and all I see is how much my accident has worried him. He cares. Truly.

  “Fine. Okay. Charles can stay.”

  He gives a small nod and pulls me to standing.

  I want to tell him about the drug dealers… but I don't. The moment has passed, and what's Kaidan going to do? Take me to the cops? I'm s
tarting to doubt my decision to go to them. No doubt Luis does have friends there… and what will happen to my brother now that he's involved? It sounds like he has some shady connections that could get us all in more trouble than we're already in. I need to try to talk to him again, make him back off until I can solve my diamond problem.

  We head back out to the front of the office, and Charles is already there, just inside the doors. He's waiting for me, stoic, hands crossed in front of him.

  Kaidan grabs the pain meds from the nurse for me, and I drop them into my purse.

  “I'll call to check in on you. Do what the doctor told you.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  He searches my face, as if he's memorizing it. “I found out an hour ago that I have to go out of town on business for a few days. But I'll be back Friday. I'd planned to have some people over that night—a small party—will you come?”

  “Of course.”

  I smile up at him, and he kisses me one more time, gently, sweetly. I don't want him to let me go, but he does. And then he's gone, and my new personal guard ushers me outside and into the Jag so he can drive me home.

  I don't feel like going back to my penthouse with all the paps waiting outside, so I finally respond to Char's dozens of texts and ask if she's home.

  She responds quickly in the affirmative, and I tell her I'm headed over there. After all the shit with my brother, I'm kind of nostalgic for the old days—the fun sleepovers and weeks at Char's—before I was shipped away in shame.

  Diane Lamb's mansion is legendary, even among the legends. The security guard lets us through the massive gate, and we wind up the driveway to the top of a little hill. The stucco mansion sprawls back into the property. Char is standing out in front of the 10 car garage wearing a tank and shorts, and her eyes widen when she sees me in the backseat of the Jag. Char's driver emerges from the garage to show Charles where to park.

  I jump out, and she rushes me, smothering me in a hug. “Oh my God, I'm so sorry.”

  I hug her and sniff. “It's so much worse than you know.”

  She pulls back and searches my face. “I'm talking about the awards. Did something else happen? Who’s that guy driving you?”

  “Kaidan's personal bodyguard…”

  Her eyes widen, and she takes another look at the Jag as it pulls into the garage. “Where's your car?”

  “I got in a little accident.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I'm fine… but my car's trashed. Kaidan's getting it fixed.”

  She nods and grabs my hand. “Come on. I have just what you need.”

  She leads me through her marble foyer with high ceilings that let tons of light in. Past the winding dark wood staircase and the series of double doors off the main hallway that lead to a formal living room, formal dining room, library, and game room. When we reach the end of the hall and hit the massive casual dining room, Char leads me to the breakfast nook in the corner. “Sit. I'll be right back.”

  She hurries through double doors that lead into her kitchen, and I take in the view.

  Windows sprawl across the entire back of the house here, showing off several acres of trees. The pool's right outside, and I'm mesmerized by the waterfall cascading over natural rocks into the water below. I can see the corner of the horse barn in the distance.

  “Hayley Wade!”

  I turn and find Diane Lamb standing before me. For a woman in her seventies, she looks pristine, all plump smooth skin and enormous lips. She's got on a black silk nightgown, and her unnaturally black hair is in rollers. Giant gemstones inset in different colors of metal bedeck hands that cradle a tiny black dog against breasts perkier than mine. I stand up, and she and I exchange kisses on each cheek.

  “I'm so sorry about your father,” she says. “Tragic!”

  “Thanks.”

  Char comes out of the kitchen, two pints of ice cream in her hands. “Oh, Ma. You're up early.”

  “Sweetie, I have a big day planned! I'm going to walk the property with Honorable Judge today.”

  I shoot Char a quizzical look.

  “The dog,” she mouths.

  “Isn't that right?” Diane asks the dog in a baby voice. She holds it up high, and it wiggles in her hands and yelps. “Maybe we'll even take a little swim! I have a new doggy inner tube. It's the perfect ride for someone as distinguished as you.”

  I smile and nod, and Diane offers me a breezy wave as she heads toward the kitchen and throws open the doors.

  “Geraldine!” Diane sings as she passes through the doors. “I'm ready for breakfast. I want that thing, that omelet you made me in the south of France last year, what was it?”

  “I'll have to send Jonathan out for the cheese,” a female voice responds. “We don't have it.”

  “Please get on that. Honorable Judge and I are famished.”

  Char shakes her head. “Inside or outside?”

  I look out at the sunny back patio and decide it doesn't fit my mood. “Movie room?”

  She smiles and hands me a pint of mint chocolate chip. “I still keep this here for you.”

  “Thanks.” I smile gratefully and take the pint from her. Then we head up her staircase to the top floor.

  The theater room is half the size of my penthouse, and it's painted a deep red. A golden chandelier with fake candles hangs from the high ceiling. Deep, plush red seats fill up the space, and a massive screen covers one wall.

  Char and I sink down in two random seats near the back and dig into our ice cream. This is the spot we'd go to tell secrets, watch movies we were too young to watch, and get away from whatever chaos was going on in our lives. Or my life, usually.

  Framed movie posters line the walls, and I try to avoid looking at the one near the screen that features my mother when she starred in a romantic comedy… one of Diane's last films.

  But I look anyway, and I expect the old pain, but it barely surfaces. My mother is smiling at the camera, posing with her leading man. Their names are emblazoned across the top of the poster: Mia Foster and Jonathan Montgomery. She went by her original stage name until she died.

  I look like her, except she's almost 30 here, and her eyes were blue. Maybe my life's a mess, but at least I'm not addicted to drugs like my mom was, right? If I can ever get my life together, I can choose a different path. I don't have to be a train wreck like my parents were. Rowan on the other hand… Rowan seems to be headed down a worse path. Does he really own a gun? What did he do in all the years I was gone?

  I set the ice cream in my lap and let out a sigh.

  “Ready to dish?” Char asks.

  I groan. “I don't even know where to start.”

  “At the beginning. What the hell happened last night with Peyton? What happened with Kaidan? Did you guys…” Char waggles her eyebrows in the most obnoxious way possible.

  I spill what happened last night with Peyton first, the awful, and very public, humiliation of the girl pouring her alcohol over my head and ruining my dress and my night.

  Char's face flies through every emotion in record speed. “That stupid cunt! She'll get hers. You'll see.” She pauses. “Sooo. Did Kaidan take you home?”

  A little smile buds on my lips, chasing away all my embarrassment. “Nope.”

  Her excitement fades. “Well, where'd you go?”

  “His penthouse.”

  She sucks in a breath and jams a huge spoonful of ice cream in her mouth, eyes wide, waiting for the rest.

  “It was amazing.”

  “Is he… Does he have a V.I.P? Was Levi right?” Her voice rises to a squeak as she nudges me. “Did you finally get your deep Stone dickin'?”

  I let out an abrupt laugh. “Wow, Char. Yes. He's definitely got a V.I.P.”

  She lets out a satisfied sigh, like she's the one who got the deep dickin’, and sinks back in the plush seat. “What happened between then and now? How did you get in an accident?”

  “The paps were chasing me this morning.”

&nbs
p; “Assholes. You sure you're okay?”

  “I'm fine. Kaidan showed up and took me to his doctor… He was having his bodyguard, Charles, follow me, Char. That was kind of…”

  “Adorable? He was worried about you. That's sweet.” There's a look of longing on Char's face that makes my heart ache for her. I can't remember the last time she had a real boyfriend, and the last guy she dated was an aspiring actor who cheated on her.

  “Yeah,” I say lamely.

  “So you said he's getting your car fixed. Maybe he can help you financially while you wait for your inheritance.”

  “Yeah, no. I'm getting a job. I am.” I remember the address that Jade gave me at Rowan's apartment. I think I'll be checking that job out after all, even if Kaidan's driver has to take me. “Actually, I got invited to audition for some kind of modeling job.”

  Char's face lights up, and she sets her ice cream on a tray and pulls out her phone. “Ooh. Awesome! Let me know if they need any extra girls.”

  “I'll let you know how it goes. So tell me about the HIT afterparty. What'd I miss?”

  “Oh, it was phenom. I met someone… Well, a few someones. Oh, and I saw Nolan Aries at the party, looking smokin' as usual. Too bad he had a model hanging off his arm.”

  I try to be a good friend and look interested as she tells me all about the amazing goodie bags filled with boutique skin creams and gold jewelry, about the gossip and the two fights that broke out, and about the sexy musicians she met last night.

  She keeps glancing down at her phone, though, and she interrupts her own story with a squeal. “Ha!”

  She shoves the phone at me, and I see it's a ScandalLust article.

  Catfight! Peyton Attacks Hayley

  I skim the article, annoyed, but then I see the subheadline.

  Is Peyton Getting Kicked Off Werewolf Chronicles?

  A little birdie has told us the Werewolf producers are getting sick of Peyton's diva antics and increasingly erratic behavior on set. Could this latest scandal be the nail in her coffin? Will we see Peyton's character, Fern, killed off next season?

  I suppress a smile and hand the phone back.

  “It'd serve her right,” Char says. “Now what should we watch? I'm kind of in the mood for that indie flick… Seventy Days.”