Forbidden: Rivalry

"Well, it's easy when there's so many good things to say," Jarod replied charmingly.

"Shall we move into the dining room gentlemen?" Natasha requested, rising gracefully to her feet.

Heather frowned moments later, finding herself uncomfortably seated between her father and Jarod. "You'll be working under Jarod for the most part," James drawled, commencing the dinner conversation as he brought a spoonful of tomato bisque to his lips. "Though I may borrow you from time to time," he teased.

"Hell, with a face like that, I may borrow her from time to time," Frank teased good-naturedly.

Heather's jaw tightened as Richard's hand landed on her knee possessively, squeezing it in silent fury. "Careful Frank, Heather's my daughter, not your secretary," Richard replied, a slight challenge in his tone.

"Of course Dick, I'm only teasing," Frank reassured, lifting both hands in apology.

"You'll have to forgive Richard, he's rather protective of Heather," Natasha murmured, smiling at Frank warmly beside her.

"Yes, I imagine after what a disappointment Colton turned out to be, you'd both be rather focused on Heather," Frank stated, his gaze wicked as he met Richard's glare head on.

"Yes, well, I don't think you can hold Colton's knee injury against him, it's not as though he hurt it on purpose," Heather objected, trying her best to tune out how much pain her father was causing her as his fingers tightened on her thigh, conveying his anger at the other man's words. "His promising football and martial arts career being cut short, was definitely a disappointment to all of us, but he's still an impressive man." Heather corrected, playing dumb as to what Mr. Remmingford Sr. was referring to.

"Of course," Frank agreed politely, his barb effectively defused.

Heather inhaled deeply as Richard's hand relaxed and retreated, her circulation returning to normal. "The boy is doing just fine," her father added with clipped words, doing his best to keep his fury contained at the other's man's insult.

"Oh yes, no matter his knee, Colton has always had quite an impressive intellect. I do believe you lost the title of Valedictorian to him at your graduation, did you not Jarod?" Natasha added, arching a brow questioningly, as though she wasn't trading shot for shot with Frank.

"Absolutely, makes me wonder why he'd waste his life as a mechanic, given his abilities," Jarod parried, missing the dark look that crossed Richard's face.

Heather grew pale, her eyes darting to meet her mother's, fear racing down her spine as her father tensed beside her. "I believe we're here to discuss Heather gentlemen, I think we've become sidetracked." Natasha redirected.

James assessed the table, quietly reflecting on what he'd just learned. "Have you and Jarod been friends since childhood, Heather?" he inquired, adhering to Natasha's request.

"Friends is a bit of a stretch, I'm sure Jarod remembers me fondly, or perhaps not so fondly, as Colton's annoying tag along," Heather joked, doing her best to lighten the mood. "He and Colton were the ones that were close. Sometimes though, it was hard to tell if they were actually best friends or just friendly rivals."

"Don't be silly, I've always enjoyed your company Heather," Jarod retorted, placing his hand over hers on the table, giving it a friendly squeeze. "You were more than welcome on every outing you joined us for."

Heather forced her smile to stay steady on her face even as she fought off the impulse to pull away from the man's grasp. "Always a gentlemen, aren't you Jarod?" she replied, sure the man picked up her veiled sarcasm, not soon to forget the way he'd touched her boldly at a party when they were younger. "I'm sorry, may I be excused please?"

Inclining her head in acquiescence, Natasha picked up her spoon, paying her daughter little mind as she retreated from the room. "James, how is your wife, I haven't seen Alexandra at the country club in weeks," she began, her voice fading as Heather made her way upstairs.

Closing the bathroom door, Heather held onto the vanity's edge and stared at herself for a long moment in the mirror, trying to calm her heartrate. "Smile, Heather, pretend. You're damn good at it," she whispered to herself, turning away from the vanity, she lifted the hem of her dress, hiking it up her thigh so she could inspect her skin. Sighing in disgust, she slid her dress back into place, certain Colton would have a few choice words for her when he saw the fingerprints already starting to molt on her skin.

Running some water over her hands, she touched up her eyeliner and opened the door, gasping as she stepped against Jarod's firm chest. "Hello Heather," he murmured, his gaze hungry, his hands on her waist, steadying her.

"Oh, Jarod, you frightened me," she replied, forcing a smile despite the suspicion reflecting in her jade eyes.

"Apologies," he murmured, making no move to remove his hands, his gaze fixated on her mouth. "You disappeared on me Heather, its very rare to see you at the country club with Natasha. People are starting to whisper about you, you know."

"People have too much time in their hands, if they're that interested in me," she countered, her hands settling on his forearms, intent on pushing him away.

"I suppose I need to find more hobbies then," he teased, tightening his grip on her. "I've always found you particularly engrossing."

Her smile slipping, Heather fought off a grimace, "I find that surprising given your falling out with Colton. My understanding was that you had very few nice things to say about us after that night."

Jarod shrugged, lifting a hand to tuck a lock of golden hair behind the shell of her ear. "Nah, I was just being immature. Your brother hurt my pride, took me a while to realize you never actually rejected me," he pointed out. "I've had a thing for you since we were kids, you know, one night wasn't about to change that."

Pushing his lingering hand away from her face, Heather nodded, "I'm flattered Jarod, truly, but I have a boyfriend. I do hope you haven't organized this internship for me with ulterior motives."

"I'd be lying if I said no," he told her confidently not the least bit put off by her words. "I'll see you in downstairs," he added, finally releasing her as he turned to return to the dining room.

Richard glared at Heather as she entered the room shortly after Jarod, resuming her seat. "Father, could you please pass the salt," she murmured quietly, not wishing to interrupt the conversation taking place between Frank, James and her mother.

Leaning into his daughter, Richard brought his mouth to her ear, angling his body as his hand eclipsed her fingers as they exchanged the salt, crushing them. "I see the way he looks at you. Unless the boy is planning to get on one knee, stay the hell away from him. I don't need anyone whispering about your morals again." He growled softly.

"Yes father," she replied in a whisper, her eyes pained as her father's fist tightened in reminder of his warning before releasing, his attention drawn by a question from Frank.

Cradling her fingers in her lap, Heather smiled brightly as the conversation continued around her, wanting to cry as she slowly began to disassociate, her body kicking into autopilot.

Frowning, Jarod watched carefully as Heather sat up straighter beside him, her responses too warm, her posture and manners too perfect. He sighed to himself as he reached for his wine glass. He'd watched Heather play this game too many times at the country club.

The woman had only ever shown him who she really was when it was just him, her and Colt growing up. He rather preferred her when she was caught off guard. At least then, her actions were honest. Like the blush he'd seen dust her cheeks when he'd trapped her in the doorway. He'd have to corner her again...soon.

~ ~ ~

"That man could be the best thing that ever happened to you," Natasha commented casually as they retired from the dining room to resume tea in the parlor. Holding her tongue, Heather nodded, knowing her mother truly believed her own words.

"Heather Remmingford, has quite the air about it, doesn't it?" the older woman added, her free hand moving up to tuck her hair behind her ear, halting abruptly, hovering by her cheek before returning to her lap. The movement not going unnoticed by her daughter.

Grimacing, Heather poured her mother a cup of tea, passing it to her as she took a seat opposite the older mirror image of herself. "Mother, please," she murmured, unsure what to say.

"I'm just making an observation, it's quite obvious the boy is taken with you, always has been."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you mother but I'm currently in a relationship."

"Well, you must end that as soon as possible," Natasha replied without even a second of consideration, her words causing Heather to choke on her tea.

"I love him, mother," she confessed, searching the other woman's face for sympathy, regret, anything to show she cared about her only daughter's feelings.

Heather's pleading gaze was met with scorn as Natasha waved her hand dismissively, "love will beget you nothing but pain. The person who cares the least has all the power, and you my dear have had Jarod wrapped around your pinky since you were a slip of a girl."

"But-"

"Think about your future Heather. He's a damn Remmingford, you'd never worry about a bill again for the rest of your life, anything you want, he'd shower you with it. It'd be like you never lost your trust fund. You'd never have to work another day in your life, just have him buy you a violin and play to your heart's content." Natasha attempted to persuade her.

Frowning into her teacup, Heather's chest constricted, "I think I'd earn every penny, the way you have."

Natasha's face grew constipated at the insinuation, "Heather-" she began, her tone reproachful.

"You never style your hair that way mother, you're always telling me to get my hair the hell out of my face so that people can see my eyes. Are you telling me you don't pay for all this opulence," she demanded, gesturing around her, "because I think every mark he leaves on you is payment. Tell me, did you get a diamond, or a trip to Denmark this time in exchange for hiding the bruise under your hair?"

Natasha's teacup clattered with its saucer so viciously, the tea sloshed over the cup, staining the fine china. "Don't you dare speak to me like that you ungrateful little bitch," she snapped. "I gave you everything! Do you have any idea-"

"Ahem," Jarod cleared his throat awkwardly in the doorway.

"Oh, Jarod," Natasha mumbled embarrassed, pasting on a carefully rehearsed smile, one she'd perfected over the course of her marriage to Richard. "How can we help you?"

"If it's not too much trouble, I was hoping to borrow Heather for a moment. Dad, James and Richard are almost done their cigars and I had hoped to speak to her in private before we left," he explained.

"Of course," Natasha agreed readily, watching as Heather apologized to her with a glance before taking the man's outstretched arm, allowing him to walk her out of the parlor.

"Are you alright?" Jarod asked worriedly as soon as they were out of earshot.

"Of course," Heather told him reassuringly, her face a mask of delighted confusion, as though she had no idea of what he spoke.

"You don't have to pretend with me Heather," he promised as he led her out through the French doors off the living room and onto the porch overlooking the sprawling yard. "Don't forget Colton used to tell me everything once. I know what it was like for you two, growing up here."

The careful mask slipping, Heather sighed, leaning heavily on the deck railing as she lowered her forehead to her crossed arms. She laughed humourlessly, "then I'm sure you know your rescue attempt just made things that much worse for me. Mother will be furious to know you heard her talk to me like that. Her words didn't exactly scream 'happy family'." She muttered miserably.

"I admire you for leaving," he complimented, leaning his forearms on the rail next to her, his gaze fixed on a bush in the distance.

"What about you? Jarod Remmingford, the future of Elliott and Remmingford," she teased sarcastically, "that's quite the pressure you must be under."

He shrugged, "not really. Unlike you and Colt, I've never fought against my path. I knew my place by the time I was five. Never really bothered me. Colt though, he never excepted never having a choice. I think that's what made him so angry all the time. Me, I like having my path laid out for me. Fewer options makes life easier."

"Why?" she asked, lifting her head to study him.

Jarod grinned, "when you have too many options, you get overwhelmed and sometimes wind up never making a decision, you just sit there wondering what you should do and if you'll make the right choice, or if you'll regret not making a different one."

"I see," she mumbled.

"No Heather, I don't think you do," he muttered cryptically.

"Enlighten me then," she requested disinterestedly, moving over to one of the ornate sunchairs.

"I'm a wealthy, powerful man." Heather tossed her hands in the air, gesturing around her as if to say 'so what?' "There have been plenty of women over the years that have thrown themselves at me, desperate to dig their claws into a piece of the Remmingford fortune."

Heather rolled her eyes, "you however, are the only woman who's gaze heated and skin flushed for me, as just a man." He told her, her eyes growing worried as he approached her. "You grew up with everything I did, and you abandoned it, as if it meant nothing to you." He continued, his words beginning to make her uncomfortable.

"I left because I couldn't take being a trophy, Jarod. I'm not a pretty doll to be put on display and commanded to preform anytime my father wishes, and I certainly didn't free myself from his leash just to let you collar me instead." She told him firmly.

"I know where your spiel is going. You're going to tell me I've always been your only option, poor us, the rich kids with lots of money but no emotional wealth." Heather guessed. When a small smile spread over his lips, she continued.

"I imagine I'm supposed to be flattered and fall into your arms, deeply appreciative of you giving me back everything I lost? Then you're going to tell me we've always been destined for each other considering how close a friendship you had with Colt? That you were always meant to step in and heal all the broken parts of me Colton wounded when he left me behind? Need I remind you though, that Colt didn't give you his blessing the first time you approached me sexually, and I can tell you with a hundred percent certainty he wouldn't now either."

Jarod smiled and shrugged as Heather's eyes narrowed, her gaze deadly, "I assure you Jarod, I reconnected with my brother the night I left this doll house," she spat, gesturing at the magnificent cage looming behind her. "I'm not the broken insecure little girl, crying over being abandoned, you used to know. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but my standards have gone up since the last time we were chummy. I'm not going to fall at your feet because you promise not to abuse me."

Nodding, Jarod's smile never faltered, "no Heather, I'm going to give you something your father and Colton were incapable of giving you."

"And what would that be?"

"Tenderness, choice, autonomy, power," he promised, laughing when her face grew placid, a sure signal she was retreating in on herself.

Planting his hands on the arms of her chair, he leaned in close, her perfume in his nostrils as his lips brushed her ear, "Tell me, do you actually dislike me Heather? Or are you treating me coldly because Colton and Richard would want you to?"

"Good evening, Mr. Remmingford, I'll see you at the office," she mumbled, pushing aside his arm, excusing herself, disquieted by his words.

~ ~ ~

Colton jabbed the stop button on his treadmill as he heard the back door open. He frowned when Heather didn't call out to him. "Sunshine?" he asked loudly, making his way towards the door. He scowled, taking in the sad set of her shoulders as she slipped off her heels.

"You were right, Colt," she murmured defeatedly.

Colton exhaled sadly, "what'd he do?"

"Jarod, or Dad?" she clarified, stepping into the comforting circle of his strong arms.

"Oh, Sunshine, I'm sorry," he whispered, cradling her as her tears began to wet his skin.

"Nothing changes, they don't care what I want, they just want me to play a role," she hiccupped, squeezing him tighter as he ran a warm solid hand up and down her back.

"Shh, it's okay, you're safe with me, no one's gonna hurt you," he promised, attempting to calm her. When her cries simply grew louder, Colton reached down and in a one fluid motion, scooped her legs from under her. Her arms circled his neck as he carried her into the bedroom.

Silently, he undressed her, unzipping her dress, pulling it from her shoulders gently, letting it pool at her feet. Kneeling in front of her, he pulled down her sheer pantyhose, closing his eyes, his mouth tightened as he took in the bruises above her knee. Choosing to ignore them for the moment, he reached into his nightstand, grabbing one of his v-neck t-shirts. Standing, he pulled his shirt down over her head. "Get into bed Sunshine, I'll go grab you a makeup wipe," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.

A minute later, Colton sat on the edge of the bed, concern contorting his features as Heather wiped her face, clearing away her smeared eye make up and foundation. "Feel better?" he asked, handing her a box of Ferreros he'd grabbed from the pantry.

"Mmh," she grunted, popping a chocolate into her mouth.

"Are you willing to tell me how you got the bruises on your leg?" he asked, his voice deceptively calm as his hand settled gently over them.

"Mr Remmingford made an inappropriate comment about me, then Jarod made a comment about your career choice, it pissed Dad off and my leg happened to bare the brunt of his anger under the table." She explained.

Tight lipped, Colton warred with himself. Telling her, 'I told you so' or 'I knew I shouldn't have let you go tonight' did not seem to him to be considerate given her upset. Instead, his logic drove him towards preventing a second disaster. "Sunshine, I don't want you doing this internship," Colton told her firmly.

"Colton, it's my career," she argued around another chocolate.

"You don't need this handout," he objected, "you're intelligent, you've got great initiative, an even better work ethic than me, fantastic grades, you'll find an internship on your own no problem."

"Why are you so determined to control me?" she snapped, Jarod's words eating at her.

Brows arching in surprise, Colton studied her worriedly, "what did Jarod say to you?"

"Why? Am I not allowed to have my own thoughts? My objection to your commands couldn't possibly be anything other than Jarod's influence?" she demanded angrily.

"This isn't you, Sunshine," he told her firmly.

"No, you're right, your Heather is always compliant, pleasant, no matter how much you lash out at her," she pointed out angrily, her eyes wide and brimming with tears.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration, Colton stood, "I love you. More than I will ever be able to communicate to you. I am working on my anger. I'm sorry that it's difficult to put up with sometimes. I'm also sorry about the way I touched you a few weeks ago. It was wrong, and completely Neanderthalic of me. Just because we both enjoy it when I'm rough with you, doesn't give me leave to be that way without asking your consent first. Whatever shortcoming of mine Jarod pointed out this evening has obviously gotten under your skin, but please don't let him come between us Sunshine."