What He Reveals (What He Wants, Book Eight) (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) Read online

  “Charlotte,” Noah said again.

  “No.” My voice cracked, but I kept my gaze locked on his, daring him to contradict me. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the fuck is going on.”

  He took in a deep breath, the pain in his eyes morphing into anger. “Charlotte,” he said, his voice raising. “Do. Not. Push. Me.”

  But I was done listening to him, done letting him have all the control. “No I’m not going anywhere with you, Noah. Not until you tell me what happened here tonight.”

  “Charlotte –”

  “Stop saying my name!” I raged, my hands balling into fists at my side. I took a deep breath. “You know what? Forget it. I’m leaving.”

  I went to push by him, but he grabbed my arm, pulling me back toward him. His chest pressed against mine, so tight that I could feel his heart beating. He tilted my chin up until my eyes met his.

  “Charlotte,” he whispered. “Please, I don’t…” He trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words for the first time since I’d met him. He pushed a stray hair off my forehead and for one blissful moment, I thought he was going to kiss me.

  Kiss me, I thought. Kiss me and tell me you’re sorry. Tell me you just got scared, tell me you take it all back, tell me you have some explanation for all the crazy things that have been happening. I’ll believe you, even if none of it makes sense.

  “Come with me,” he said. “Please. And I’ll explain.”

  He took my hand, his fingers wrapping around mine, strong and firm and protective.

  Suddenly, I was exhausted.

  “You’ll explain to me?” I pressed. “About Audi James?”

  He nodded.

  I hesitated for just a second.

  And then I let him lead me out of the club.

  ***

  Once we were outside, I gulped in the fresh air. My lungs were still burning from what had happened, and the fresh air felt cool and soothing.

  Noah opened the door to his car for me, and we both slid into the backseat.

  “Let me see your cut,” Noah instructed as his driver pulled the car away from the curb.

  “I’m fine.”

  He reached out and pulled the fabric of my ruined dress aside, and I looked down at my wound for the first time. A thin line of blood ran across my upper belly, but the cut itself didn’t look that bad.

  Noah reached over and hit the intercom button, which allowed him to talk to Jared. “Jared,” he said. “Please stop at a drugstore and purchase a first aid kit.”

  “Yes, sir,” came the reply.

  “No,” I said. “I’m fine. I just… I just want to go home.” Now that I was out of the club, now that the rate of adrenaline pumping through my body was starting to slow, the harsh reality of the situation was starting to set in.

  I’d gone to a BDSM club with a man who might be a murderer. I’d allowed that man to do things to me that I would have deemed unthinkable just a week ago. I’d listened to an anonymous caller who’d sent me to a mysterious room, and there, I was accosted by a murderer who’d cut me with a knife.

  Emotions washed over me – heartbreak, helplessness, fear, anxiety. Almost every negative thing I could imagine flooded my body at the same time, overwhelming me. Tears welled in my eyes, and this time they spilled over, running down my cheeks.

  Noah pulled me into his arms as I sobbed against his chest.

  “Shh,” he whispered. “Shh, it’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  I let the words wash over me, allowing myself to believe them. A second later, the car stopped and I heard the sound of the driver’s door opening as Jared got out to fetch the supplies Noah had requested.

  And I just sat there, in the back of the car, letting Noah comfort me as I cried, the sobs wracking my body until all that was left were my shuttering breaths.

  Noah reached into the tiny compartment that was against one of the doors and pulled out a bottle of water. He uncapped it, then held it out to me.

  “Drink.”

  I took the bottle and did as he commanded, letting the cool liquid slide down my throat, which was raw from screaming.

  Noah pulled off the sweater he was wearing, then carefully pulled down the top of my dress, being careful not to touch my cut.

  “Arms up,” he instructed.

  I put my arms up, and he slid the sweater over me. It smelled like him – laundry detergent and mint toothpaste and cedar. It was comforting, and I lay back on the seat and watched the buildings of the city move by as he pulled me close again.

  But he didn’t kiss me.

  And he didn’t tell me it was going to be okay.

  I wanted to ask him about Audi James, wanted to demand answers. But I was exhausted. I would wait until we got back to his apartment, I decided, and then we would have a talk. But a second later, I realized we weren’t heading back to his apartment at all.

  “What are we doing?” I asked as Jared brought the car to a stop. “Where are we?”

  “The Hawthorne,” Noah said. “You’ll be staying here tonight.”

  A hotel.

  He’d brought me to a fucking hotel.

  He was sticking to his decision, the one he’d made when he’d ripped up our contract.

  He was done with me.

  “No.” I shook my head. “I want to go home. Back to my apartment.” I wasn’t staying in some stupid hotel, especially not one he’d paid for. I wanted to be back in my own bed, with my own things. A hotel was cold and impersonal and awful.

  “You can’t go back to your apartment, Charlotte,” Noah said. “It’s not safe there.”

  I laughed, a bitter laugh that sounded nothing like me. “I can handle Josh.”

  But Noah wasn’t listening. He’d gotten out of the car and was holding the door open for me.

  “No.”

  He sighed. “Charlotte, we can do this the easy way or we can do it the hard way.”

  “The hard way.”

  His jaw set into a stubborn line, and the passing headlights of a car on the street washed over him. My heart clenched. He was so god damn beautiful. It was almost exhausting just looking at him, that’s how much I ached for him, how much I wanted him. Even with everything that had gone on, even with the night I’d had, I could still notice his beauty and magnetism, that’s how powerful it was.

  A second later, he reached into the car and grabbed me by the legs, pulled me toward the open door of the car.

  “What are you doing?” I yelled, but he didn’t answer.

  Instead, he grabbed me around the waist, being careful not to touch my wound, then picked me up and threw me over his shoulder.

  I pounded on his back, mortified. “Put me down!” I yelled. “Noah, put me down.”

  He set me down on the ground, and dizziness flooded through me as the blood rushed back to my body.

  “Easy way?” he asked, his tone making it perfectly clear he wouldn’t hesitate to pick me up again if he had to. “Or hard way?”

  “Easy way,” I mumbled, and began following him into the hotel.

  I headed for the front desk, but Noah strode right past it toward the elevator bank, and so I followed him. He pushed the button for the top floor, the penthouse, and we rode up in silence.

  When the elevator doors open, we stepped out into a beautiful suite. It was sprawling but tasteful, with an ornate gold sleigh bed in the middle of the room, a bar area, and a good-sized kitchenette. Floor-to-ceiling windows took up the far wall, and there was a wraparound terrace that spanned the perimeter of the room.

  “You own this?” I asked.

  “No, Charlotte,” he said. “The penthouse is part of the hotel.”

  I gaped at him. “You rent this room? Like, indefinitely?” I couldn’t even begin to imagine how much something like that would cost.

  He ignored me, instead walking into the bathroom and flipping on the light. “Come here, Charlotte.”

  I followed him.

  The bathroom was huge, with
a soaking tub surrounded by gold pillars and a double basin sink with shiny white marble countertops. On one side of the room was a vanity table with a lighted mirror and a white leather stool sitting in front of it.

  Noah was at the sink, the bag of drugstore supplies that Jared had bought spread out in front of him.

  He reached for me and pulled at the bottom of the sweater I was wearing so he could get a look at my cut. “It’s definitely not deep,” he said, studying it. “But you need to keep it clean.”

  “I can do it,” I said, reaching for the bag, but Noah pushed it out of my reach.

  “Hold your sweater up,” he instructed.

  I did as I was told, and Noah pulled out a small gauze pad and a tube of antibiotic cream. “How did you end up in that room with Audi James, Charlotte?” he asked.

  “Oh, no,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re not the one who gets to ask the questions.”

  His finger slid over my skin as he applied the cream to my cut, and I shivered.

  “Fine,” he said. “What would you like to know?”

  “He was your client?”

  Noah nodded. “He was.”

  I swallowed. “And he was… you got him off?” I knew better than to ask what I really wanted to ask, which was whether or not Audi James was guilty of killing that woman. As a defense attorney, you didn’t ask whether or not your client was guilty. You assumed they were innocent, you believed them even when you knew they were full of shit. And if you couldn’t do that, you comforted yourself with the fact that this was how our country’s justice system worked – it was set up so that everyone was entitled to a fair trial. It wasn’t a perfect system, but it was the best system, and it was a privilege to be a part of it.

  “He was found not guilty.” Noah was finished applying the ointment to my wound, and he set the square of gauze against my skin.

  “Because of you.”

  “Because the jury rendered a not guilty verdict.”

  “Because of you.”

  “If you want to ask me something, Charlotte, please come straight out and ask me.”

  “If it weren’t for you, if you hadn’t been such a goddamn good lawyer, would Audi James be rotting in a prison somewhere?”

  “Impossible to say.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  He held the gauze pad against my skin carefully, then picked up a roll of medical tape and ripped off strips of it using his teeth. He used the tape to fasten the gauze to my skin, then slowly pulled my sweater back down.

  He looked at me expectantly, like he was waiting for a thank you. But he was going to be waiting a long time. Because I wasn’t going to thank him, not for helping me with something that was partly his fault to begin with.

  Our eyes locked on each other, and I tried to look away, but he grasped my chin and pulled it back so that I was forced to look at him. The back of his hand trailed over my cheek.

  “How did you find me?” I whispered. “How did you know I’d be in that room?”

  His eyes darkened, and anger flashed on his face. “Audi James is my brother.”

  “He’s… wait, what?”

  “He’s my brother.” Noah turned away from me then, breaking the spell, and began gathering up the empty gauze packets and other trash that was littering the counter.

  “He’s… the brother you talked about at the restaurant?” The brother who had turned on Noah, who’d said Noah had attacked his stepfather unprovoked, the reason Noah had a juvenile record.

  “Yes.” He finished cleaning up and threw the trash into the stainless steel garbage can. Then he turned and walked out of the bathroom and into the suite, sat down on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands.

  “Audi James in my brother. He killed that woman. I’m sure of it. And I got him off. I helped him when he was in trouble, because he’s my brother and because I’m fucking idiot.”

  I swallowed hard and wrapped my arms around myself, letting his words settle over me. Noah had known Audi was guilty, and he’d defended him even after what Audi had done to him, because Noah had wanted that connection. That family connection. And he’d gotten Audi off. And now he felt guilty about it.

  “And now Audi has groupies,” I said.

  “Yes. He has groupies who pay to see him at Force, who get off on a murder fantasy.”

  “But he doesn’t actually kill any of them.”

  “Not yet.” There was a moment of silence, and then he looked up at me. “Who told you to go to that room, Charlotte?”

  I took a deep breath. “I got an anonymous call.”

  “You what?”

  “In your office earlier. When I went to the bathroom, I got an anonymous call. They told me to go to Force and find Audi James.”

  “What the fuck, Charlotte?” Noah got up and began pacing the room, running his hand through his hair, his body a coil of energy, ready to explode. “You got an anonymous call telling you to go to Force and you didn’t think it might have been a good idea to mention that to me?”

  “Mention it to you? For what? I mean, you knew anyway, right?” I countered. “Isn’t that why you ripped up the contract?”

  “Who was it?” he demanded. “Who called you?”

  “I told you, I don’t know. All he said was that he was a friend. He called me again in the club and told me to ask for The Dark Room. So I did.”

  He stared at me incredulously. “That was incredibly, incredibly stupid of you, Charlotte.” He began to cross the room toward the door, like maybe he was going to leave.

  “Where are you going?” I demanded. Fear flooded through my body. I was afraid that if he left, he wasn’t going to come back. Ever. And the thought of not seeing him again was unbearable.

  “Back to Force,” he said. “To find out who called you and kill them.”

  “Noah!” I said, stepping in front of him. “Stop! You’re acting crazy.”

  “Am I?” he demanded. “Am I really? That motherfucker had you in a room with a knife up to your body, Charlotte. He’s a murderer. He killed that woman. Do you understand that?”

  I nodded. “I didn’t know…”

  “No, you didn’t. But you would have if you’d just told me, if you’d just used that extremely intelligent brain of yours to really think instead of just doing whatever the hell you wanted!”

  I was still in front of the door, blocking his way, and I crossed my arms over my chest. “Oh, right,” I said. “I shouldn’t have kept any information to myself. I should have shared it, just like you do, right, Noah?”

  “What I do is my business, Charlotte.”

  “Really?” I threw my hands up in the air. “Really? Is that really what you think? That everything that happens to you has to be kept to yourself? You’ve been arrested for murder, Noah. Murder. You could end up in jail for the rest of your life. Life. In. Prison. Try to keep your privacy in prison, Noah. See how well that works out for you.”

  “I haven’t been convicted yet, have I?”

  “No, you haven’t. But you will be if you keep sabotaging your own case. Didn’t you think it was important to tell your lawyer that you have a brother who’s a murderer, who also hung out at Force? A brother you have a complicated history with, who might have a reason to hurt people close to you? Didn’t you think it might be a good idea for the police to look into where Audi was when Katie died?”

  “I did.”

  “What?” I shook my head, confused. “You never mentioned anything to me about Audi James, Noah.”

  “You’re not my lawyer, Charlotte,” he said. “Colin Worthington knows about Audi, and it’s been looked into. Audi has an alibi.”

  “Wait, what?” I shook my head, confused. “Professor Worthington knows about Audi? But that doesn’t make any sense. You’ve only been talking to me.”

  But even as I was saying the words, the truth was forming in my mind. Noah was only talking to me right now. He’d been talking to Worthington before, when this first started, whe
n the police had been looking into him because of Dani, before Katie had even been killed. Of course Noah had given Professor Worthington more information than he’d given me.

  Yes, Noah was refusing to talk to anyone except for me now, but it wasn’t because he trusted me, or because he wanted to get closer to me, or because he wanted to help my career. He was only talking to me because he knew I could be controlled, knew he’d be able to get away with talking about the case when and how he wanted. He’d wanted to control the flow of information, to pick and choose what information he gave and who he gave it to.

  This had never had anything to do with me. It had always been about control.

  “Charlotte,” he said, as the understanding dawned on my face. “It’s not like that.”

  “It’s not like what?” I asked, my voice breaking.

  “I wasn’t using you.”

  I laughed. “Then what do you call it?”

  “What do I call it?” He grabbed me by my wrists, pushed me so that my back was up against the door. His body pressed against mine, and my knees felt weak from his closeness, his smell, his presence. “You need me to spell this out for you, what this is? I wasn’t lying when I said I was falling in love with you,” he rasped. “I am falling in love with you.”

  I let the words wash over me. His eyes were on mine, stormy and intense with emotion. The longing I felt, the hope that he meant what he said, was too much to take. I closed my eyes, feeling a tear slip out and leave a salty trail down my cheek.

  “Look at me,” he demanded.

  I took a breath and opened my eyes.

  “You have meant more to me than any woman I’ve ever known. You are beautiful and sexy and smart and you don’t put up with my shit. You are everything I’ve ever wanted and more.”

  Meant.

  He was using past tense.

  And that’s all I needed to know.

  I pushed him away from me and walked back into the room, making sure to keep my back to him. I wasn’t going to turn around, wasn’t gong to look at him. If he was going to leave, he was going to have to do it without me looking at him.