Page 5 of Forbidden Vow

2

Raven

Raven Radell never thought the late Lexington Kent was a good man, but he’d been a true confidante and eventually a kind mentor. Now, she wasn’t so sure of the first. A niggling suspicion rose alarm bells that she, and maybe Darius, were chess pieces in the elder Kent’s final game. He had possessed keen business acumen and an uncanny ability to strategize above and beyond his opponents. Lexington’s final request was the only reason she'd taken a redeye flight into Shell Cove. Leaving the north Florida beach town had been hard four years ago. Lexington had pleaded with her to stay, but she couldn't bear pitying looks as another six months of Darius ignoring her texts, calls, and emails rocketed by. Had the dearly departed father figure thought to reunite Raven and his son?

Ugh, Darius.

Just look at him, dressed in a dark gray suit with a darker gray shirt; he looked rich, powerful, and lethal. Of course, handsome as ever was a given. His lean jaw, tight with tension, spoke to the cliff he tittered on, yet he fought to maintain that stiff upper lip reserved for the Kent men. His mesmerizing watercolor blue eyes were hard, a tad bit wide with emotion, more grief than shock.

The handsome face, made famous by birthright and infamous by tabloid media, was more than arresting. His lush ginger locks, rare in a man, set him apart and elevated his masculine appeal. He was…regal. And the arrogant twist of his mouth, the casual gait, powerful yet full of fluid grace, said he knew the effect he had on others, understood the influence he wielded. At seeing Darius again, the hollow pit that lived in her heart filled with all types of unwanted emotions. Desire, lust, hope, anger, disappointment, and, finally, flame-hot rage.

She hadn't realized how angry she was with him until they collided. Once upon a time, his love had shaped and filled her life. That was then. She was no longer that woman, and he was no longer the shining star at the center of her universe.

Obviously.

He had other women for that now. And cue theHe Used To Be My Guymental antics.

Screaming, hitting, and kicking in the nuts was still a possibility. The attractive blonde who'd stumbled out of the office door had disappeared. A pang thumped in Raven's chest at the knowledge that Darius could so easily engage in meaningless sex. Her own escapades consisted of hands, fingers, and toys. All of which she owned. Raven recognized her outrage for what it was; jealousy, with a side order of envy. She told herself that it didn't matter what Darius did. It had been so easy for him to believe the worst about her.

“I asked you a question, Raven. Actually, two questions.”

This was Darius, uncut and unfiltered. Five years with zero contact, not for lack of trying the first two years, and he was just as demanding as her first day reporting to the Kent estate when she found him in Lexington’s study. Without so much as a glance in her direction, he barked orders about how he liked his coffee. At first, it occurred to her to get right back in her 2017 Toyota Camry and never return. Instead, she’d located the private kitchen, brewed the coffee, prepared it just the way he had instructed, returned to the study, and…drank every delicious drop while he watched.

Darius Kent had laughed.

A deep rich baritone that had grabbed her panties by the crotch and ripped them off. Moments later, when Lexington had joined them, he seemed surprised by the natural flow of conversation between his son and his newexecutive assistant. Looking back, Raven assumed the feeling in her gut that first morning had been the excitement of working in that mansion, with that family. No, it had been this man. And that was why she didn’t hold back one iota of her emotions.

“I don’t have to tell you shit,” she said, louder than she’d planned. The hallway was still clear, but Raven knew the halls had ears. The media lined Gucci bags for juicy gossip.

“He was my father,” he growled.

The self-righteous asshole had crushed her hope in love and faith in men. There was a reason why human resource managers cautioned female hires not to sleep with their employers, and his name was Darius Kent. The only reason she’d returned to Shell Cove, Florida, in this lifetime, was a letter she’d received from Lexington Kent pre-dating his death requesting that she come home.

“Yesterday erased his past and ours, Darius. Let it go.” She had. Well, sort of. Here she was, back in Shell Cove, arguing with her former lover. How many nights had she lain awake wondering what she would say if she ever saw Darius again? Too many. She'd been unprepared for the kiss, the spike in attraction. After the way he'd walked away from her, she'd thought any affection she felt for him would have long since died.

“I believe in the resurrection.” He paused, scrubbing a hand over his face. “How the hell did you end up screwing both of us?”

“You tell me,” she retorted. “Seems you have all the answers.”

“Don’t play with me, Raven.”

His voice sounded rough and scratchy, but instead of irritating, it jarred the lid off her memories. Old times, happier circumstances, discarded clothing left at the elevator to his thirtieth-floor condo. Her skin heated and her breathing increased, his roar, his scent, his taste—it all rushed at her. Stop it, Raven. End this.

“Play with you.” She leaned in, careful not to touch him, not to reveal her vulnerability. “I prefer not to speak to you, Darius. Or did you not notice that in the past twenty-four hours?” Yesterday, the funeral had been taxing. The hundreds of mourners who attended the ceremony and accompanied the family to the gravesite. Raven had nearly crumbled when they lowered the massive black lacquer box to its final resting place.

“Yeah, I did.” His brows furrowed, and Raven got the impression he was none too happy about her giving him the brush off. “And I have zero fucks to give.”

“Got that much when you had me thrown out of your building five years ago.” After he’d abruptly ended their relationship, Raven had visited his penthouse. The doorman had denied her entry. Confused, Raven had called his private line. Minutes later, he joined her in the lobby, but he’d brought friends. Two uniformed security guards escorted her from the premises. Though she hadn’t understood his reasons for tossing her aside, there was no mistaking her humiliation. Tears of sorrow accompanied her return trip to the Kent family estate. It was the last time she’d laid eyes on Darius in person.

“You disappeared without a trace, Raven. I searched the Kent databases, there’s not one document with your name on it.”

“So…what?” she replied, nervousness making the response slow and awkward.

“That’s deliberate.” He was right. After twenty-four months with not one email or phone call from Darius, she’d needed a fresh start. Lexington had given it to her. “I want a full account of your previous responsibilities. All your emails, correspondence, every detail from every dealing. And he for damn sure needed his family, not an opportunist, seeing to his affairs.”

The eldest Kent, a national tragedy, was another one of America’s royal families, like the Standard Oil Rockefellers, the gunpowder supplying Du Ponts, the media titan Hearsts, the Walmart Waltons, and, of course, the tech giants of North America, the Kent family. Money, especially multigenerational wealth changed a family tree, but the all had to surrender to that great equalizer, mortality.

Raven regarded him. “Never.”