Bound for Nirvana

Home > Other > Bound for Nirvana > Page 5
Bound for Nirvana Page 5

by Kendra Leigh


  Christ, if they are as rewarding as a moment ago, I feared he might actually tear me in two. “Okay.” I sighed. “Just one more minute.” I closed my eyes.

  “Remember, don’t open your eyes. Focus on what you’ve learned. When you’ve applied reason and you’re certain about what you feel, you can open them.”

  I nodded.

  Lifting me gently by the hips, he slid out of me. I expected him to move from behind me, but instead he nestled me between his legs, then shifted gently to the side, like he was leaning over to reach for something underneath the chaise.

  Suddenly, the soothing tones of the choir faded and the emotive timbre of another tune began to beat into the room. Rihanna.

  Sensing his arms surround me, I felt a weight—a heavy, cool sensation resting in the dip between my breasts. Slowly it began to travel up toward my collar bone, my senses attuning to the cool, polished, yet rutted surface as it settled in the hollow at the base of my throat, and a lighter, tickly sensation folded around my neck.

  The thud of my heart slowed to a dramatic but steady, riveted beat as my senses became gradually mindful of the poignant melody playing out into the room.

  Diamonds.

  Rhianna’s words combined with the cool sensation surrounding my throat evoked some unexpected and intense ideas, summoning images that I could only dare to hope would conform to reality.

  My eyes snapped open.

  In awestruck silence, I gazed ahead into the mirror, but as if I couldn’t quite trust the accuracy of the reflection, I arched my neck, looking down as my hand fluttered to the cluster of jewels at my throat.

  My mother’s diamond pendant.

  My brain was a confusing, swirling mass of ungraspable thoughts and questions, none of which I could hold onto long enough to voice. Instead, my gaze oscillated between the pendant and Ethan’s face as he watched me with trepidation, waiting for me to react.

  Among the many undecipherable emotions swamping my mind, there was a pure and lucid one just waiting for my brain to engage and respond to: a feeling of overwhelming gratitude. Throwing every question aside, I listened to it.

  Swiveling in my seat, I crawled onto his lap and folded my arms and legs around him in a desperate clinch. Then, taking his startled, relieved face in my hands, I began to smother every inch of it in grateful, greedy kisses. He responded instantly, thrusting his hands into my hair and crashing his lips against mine eagerly, his tongue delving into my mouth to twist and swirl with mine.

  Beneath me, I felt the solid stiffness of his passion at my entrance once again and his hands trailing down my back to cup my ass. He pulled me to him, his strong, steady grasp guiding our bodies together and sinking deep inside me, until I was lost to only one emotion—love.

  Chapter Three

  Somehow, we’d made it through the ring of fire and over to the bed without breaking contact. Now, I lay on my side, head on Ethan’s chest and folded protectively into his arms as I swirled my finger gently through the smattering of hair on his chest. Physically, I felt exhausted, though my mind was way too active to sleep. We hadn’t exchanged a word since he’d fastened the clasp of the pendant around my neck, and I knew he was waiting patiently for me to process my thoughts.

  Tilting my chin, I looked up at his beautiful face. His eyes were closed, long thick lashes fanning out underneath and a gentle smile tugging at his lips. He blinked, his gaze meeting mine as he lifted his head from the pillow and kissed me chastely on the tip of my nose.

  “You okay?” he asked quietly.

  I nodded.

  “Ready to talk?”

  I nodded again. “Yes.”

  “Come up here,” he shifted, moving to his side as I joined him on the pillow, facing him, our legs entwined. “You know you could just accept that it’s back in your possession and enjoy it—no questions asked?”

  For a fraction of a second, I contemplated the option and then shook my head.

  Ethan rolled his eyes. “I thought not.” He paused, a thoughtful frown marring his forehead. “Remember how you felt when you first opened your eyes and saw it there around your neck?”

  “Yes. Overwhelming happiness, relief, appreciation—”

  He nodded encouragingly. “Those are the only feelings that matter. Promise me that nothing I tell you will alter that. Your response was the right one. Don’t let any negative emotions nudge in and spoil this for you, okay?”

  Suddenly, I had visions of Ethan creeping through Monica’s apartment in the dead of night, flashlight in hand as he rummaged through her jewelry to rob her of these precious stones. Quickly, I dismissed the thought as highly improbable and nodded in agreement.

  “Okay.” He took a breath. “After I put you in the back of the car and Jackson drove you away, I went back inside the restaurant.”

  Oh my God!

  “I waited outside the restrooms for Monica to come out. It seems she was highly embarrassed by the whole situation. Firstly by the fact that she hadn’t even known you existed, and yet she appeared to be wearing something which belonged to your mother, and wasn’t—as she’d been led to believe—bought specifically for her. And secondly, because she couldn’t believe the venomous, dissociative manner in which they’d spoken to you.”

  It was a reasonable response I supposed. I’d have been mortified if I’d been in her position.

  “I told her how your mother had left the pendant to you—”

  “She didn’t exactly leave it to me,” I interrupted horrified.

  “I didn’t need to give her the intricate details,” he scolded me impatiently. “All she needed to be aware of was how much it means to you.” He paused. “And—even though it’s rightfully yours—how your father stole it from you.”

  “Stole?” My eyes widened at his choice of words.

  “Are you going to do anything about putting your thoughts into some sort of reasonable order before you blurt them out, or are we going for round two on today’s learning objective?” His narrowed eyes dared me to defy him.

  God, he was right. Already, I was forgetting what he’d taught me, slipping back into lifelong habits and my inclination to justify my father’s behavior. The memory of him finding me with the pendant at Claudia’s wedding came flooding back, and my fingers flittered to my throat. “You’re right, he did steal it. The bastard tore it from my neck.”

  Ethan smiled widely. “That’s better, baby. Much better.”

  I was surprised by how good it felt, and furthermore, how eager I was to hear the remainder of the story. “So what happened then? She was disgusted with my father so she just handed it over?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Pretty much?” I gaped in disbelief. “You offered her money.” It wasn’t a question. “Oh, God. How much?”

  “I didn’t pay her for the pendant.” He seemed irked again. “How could I put a price on returning it to you? It had to be restored to its rightful owner willingly.”

  “Oh.” I was shocked. “Well, credit where credit’s due, I suppose. I had her down as just another one of his gold-digging whores. In terms of money, the pendant must be worth, what… at least ten thousand dollars. I can’t believe she just… handed it over.” I paused for thought. “Christ, how do you think she explained it to him? If she told him the truth—”

  “Relax, Angel. She didn’t tell him.”

  “How do you know?” I pushed up onto my elbow, feeling suddenly worried that he’d come banging on the door and demand it back. “She could have told him anything. She could have said you snatched it, for all we know.”

  “I know she didn’t tell him the truth, because she didn’t tell him anything.” He sighed heavily, seemingly frustrated that he’d said more than he’d intended. Scowling in confusion, I waited for him to elaborate. “You’re right. She was concerned about what to tell him… so I made a suggestion.”

  “What suggestion?”

  For a few beats, he just stared at me, chewing down on his lower lip guard
edly. “That she visits with her family. A nice, long extended trip back home to Texas—the kind that you don’t return from.”

  My jaw drooped open with amused incredulity. “So let me get this straight. Not only did she hand over ten thousand dollars worth of diamonds, but she left town because some guy she just met suggested a vacation might be a good idea?”

  He pulled a face, a sort of pained smile which implied I was warm in my summation, but not entirely on the button. Then he opened his mouth to speak and shut it again, as if buying time to edit the thoughts in his head before voicing them. “There’s a slight possibility the one million dollars played a part in persuading her that it was the right thing to do.”

  Now I was confused. My brow crumpled, my eyes narrowing on him suspiciously. “Which one million dollars?”

  Reaching out, he tucked a stray tendril of hair behind my ear. “Remember to think logically before you react.”

  “Which one million dollars, E?”

  “The million I paid her to get out of your father’s life and never return. The smug bastard needed a taste of the misery he so effortlessly dishes out to you.”

  My jaw hit the deck. “You gave her… one million dollars?”

  Shrugging with blithe unconcern, he turned to lie on his back, his hands supporting his head. “I’d have paid the same amount again just to see the look on the fucker’s face when he realized she was gone. Of course, she probably would have taken half the amount—you were right about the gold-digging theory. She couldn’t get on that plane fast enough.”

  “Plane?” The word barely scraped past my shock and disbelief.

  “Mmm.” He chuckled. “I seem to have developed a bit of a habit of depositing superfluous women on planes recently.” His eyes flickered to mine guiltily. “I may have told you a small white lie when I said I’d just been walking last night. When the deal was done, we left the restaurant by the back door and took a cab to her place. She packed a bag and gave her keys back to her landlady. Jackson picked us up and took us to the airport, where I bought her a one-way ticket to Dallas and waved her goodbye. She won’t be back.”

  The cogs of my mind rotated, moving slowly through the gears until each piece of information slotted together to form a complete and logical decision of how I felt, and how I wanted to react.

  And then I began to laugh.

  A deep, side-splitting laugh; long and hard until the tears ran down my cheeks as I grasped my aching sides. Ethan stared at me, his stunned expression morphing gradually to one of pure delight, and soon we were laughing together, abandoned in our irreclaimably wicked jubilation.

  The sound of Ethan’s cell vibrating dragged us kicking and screaming back to reality. I felt wonderfully sated and relaxed. The lesson, the pendant, and the wild uncontrollable laughter had worked their magic, and all I could do was watch as he finally scrambled off the bed in search of the phone. My eyes ran dreamily over his magnificent physique, his strong, powerful form flexing in all the right places as he moved lithely across the room to the table by the window and glanced at the display.

  “Jackson,” he greeted, listening for a second before checking the time on his wristwatch. “Christ, is it that time? Okay, come on up, I’ll be right there.” He hung up and made a grab for his jeans, clambering into them before pulling a T-shirt over his head.

  I frowned at him. “Where are you going? Come back to bed.”

  “Later. When was the last time you ate?”

  I thought about it for a second. “Jackson fed me this morning.”

  “Ah yes.” He raised his brows. “Well, thanks to Jackson, I’m about to feed you now. Get dressed. Two minutes.” He stalked out of the room.

  Thoughts of the day’s events skittered haphazardly though my mind as I stretched lazily. I couldn’t believe how good it had felt to embrace my true feelings about my father’s... misfortune. Hearing what Ethan had done would normally provoke a completely different reaction from me. Only yesterday, I would have been horrified to think I’d been party to such a cruel, underhanded deed. Today, however, it was a whole different ball game.

  Swinging my legs over the bed, I got up and padded into the bathroom, smiling widely at my reflection in the mirror when I spotted my smudged mascara, thoroughly fucked, messy hair, and my mother’s beautiful diamond pendant at my throat. I couldn’t have been happier. Quickly, I tugged a brush through my hair and eyeing Ethan’s dress shirt lying idly over the arm of the chair where he’d left it, I pulled it on and breathed in the scent of my wonderful man.

  When I wandered through to the lounge I was met with the wonderful aroma of pizza. Lucia’s pizzas, if my sense of smell served me correctly. Ethan confirmed the notion when he strolled in from the foyer carrying a couple of Lucia’s pizza boxes.

  “We missed out last night,” he answered my unspoken question. “I was looking forward to that pizza, so voila.”

  “Good call,” I smiled approvingly, realizing suddenly how hungry I was.

  Passing me the boxes, he pointed to the sofa, indicating for me to sit. “I’ll pour us some wine.”

  The pizza smelled delicious and my mouth began to water as I curled up on the sofa, folding my legs beneath me, pizza box in my lap. Ethan handed me a glass of wine and sat down to face me in the opposite corner.

  “Nice shirt, by the way.” Flipping the lid of his box, he tucked in, making instant murmurs of appreciation.

  “Thanks. It’s Armani. It smells amazing.”

  He smiled. “You look amazing wearing it, baby. But actually, I was talking about the pale blue Brioni that Jackson was wearing when he got back to the office this afternoon.”

  I halted, pizza suspended midway to my mouth. “Ah.”

  “Ah, indeed. Care to explain?” His face was a mask of impassiveness as he munched on his food.

  “Well, as per your instructions, Jackson gave me a hand with some packing this afternoon at the apartment, and it was a little dirtier than I’d anticipated. The apartment,” I added quickly when I noticed his eyebrow flicker upwards. “He made a mess trying to clean up some smudges on his shirt, so I lent him one of yours.”

  Nodding slowly, he plucked another slice of pizza from the box.

  “You don’t mind do you? I mean, I couldn’t let him go back to the office in a dirty shirt.”

  “No, course not. I have no problem with you giving Jackson one of my shirts, Angel.” He pointed to the suspended slice of pizza which still hadn’t made it as far as my mouth. “Eat.”

  Without pause, I sunk my teeth in, taking a large bite of the mouthwatering, yummy pizza. “Mmm, that’s incredible.”

  “Isn’t it,” he agreed. “So what did you think of Jackson’s tattoo?”

  “Oh, actually that’s incredible too. I don’t usually—” I stopped mid-sentence, abruptly aware of the look of astonished fury on his face.

  “Wrong fucking answer, Angelica.”

  Oh! I knew exactly where he was headed with this. He wasn’t bothered by the fact that I’d given Jackson the shirt, only by the possibility that he’d changed in front of me. And I’d just confirmed that he’d done exactly that.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, although I knew the answer perfectly well.

  “What’s wrong is that you seem to think it’s perfectly acceptable behavior to be in the presence of another man whilst he’s practically naked.”

  “E, this is Jackson we’re talking about.”

  “Exactly. His body’s a fucking temple, a honed machine—you must have noticed.”

  I had noticed—of course I’d noticed, but I wasn’t about to tell Ethan that. Instead, I tried to make light of the conversation. “You wouldn’t think so with the amount of breakfast he stuffed inside him.”

  “You went out for breakfast?”

  Oh Christ! “He said you’d given him instructions to feed me.”

  “I said to make sure you ate, not take you out to wine and dine you. Where did you go?”

  “Nowhere specia
l. We just went to his favorite caff.” I pronounced the words favorite caff with Jackson’s London accent, earning myself a look of severe displeasure. “Ethan, what is this? Why have you suddenly got a problem with Jackson?”

  In frustration, he shoved his hands into his hair. “I haven’t suddenly got a problem. And my issue isn’t with Jackson.”

  “Well, what then? Or who? With me?”

  “No!” He pushed his pizza box to the side, his lips bunching into a sulky pout. “I’m just not comfortable with how close you guys are.”

  “He’s my friend, E. That’s all. I don’t think of him in any other way, I promise you.” My tone was gentle as I tried to reassure him, but to no avail. He looked genuinely hurt, agitated even.

  “You talk to him—listen to him. I want to be the person you listen to. It’s my job.”

  “I do listen to you.” Shit, this was still about last night and all the other times I’d failed to take his advice when he’d tried to guide me through dealing with my issues.

  “Only when I virtually torture you into it. And I don’t doubt you’d already been partially persuaded by the advice Jackson gave you today.”

  Ethan had discussed me with Jackson, I was right. And knowing I’d taken his advice on the chin had obviously rattled him. “You asked Jackson to speak to me?”

  “I was desperate for you to sit up and listen. To stop playing the role of your father’s favorite punching bag. And as Jackson’s the only one you seem to take advice from…”

  “Ethan, you’re wrong.” God, I’d hurt him more than I’d realized. I moved, clambering over the pizza box and into his lap. “I came to the office this morning to tell you that you were right. To apologize for the way I behaved last night. I was ready to deal with my demons then, you’d already convinced me.” I took his face in my palms, but although he met my gaze, he still didn’t move, his hands remaining limp by his sides. “As much as I enjoyed my lesson this evening, it only served to make things more lucid, make me more confident about how I now see things—it wasn’t the deal clincher. And my chat with Jackson certainly wasn’t.” He still didn’t look convinced, and his uncertainty caused an unwelcome lump to form in my chest. I gave it a rub to ease it. “He’s just my friend. A kind and loyal friend, whom I occasionally exchange good-natured banter with in a silly sort of… brotherly-sisterly, affectionate way.”

 

‹ Prev