More Than Anything

by Serena Grey

  Braden was standing close to the front door, looking at something in the hall closet. As I approached, he shut the closet door and faced me, his eyes running over my body with a directness I should have resented but found shamefully arousing.

  “I suppose it would have been too much to expect you not to network at my father’s funeral,” he said scathingly.

  It took me a moment to realize what he meant. “I know you like to think the worst of me, but now you’re just being ridiculous,” I retorted. “I spoke to Cole Rainer because he approached me. I only came here for your mother.”

  “She told me you were leaving.”

  “I am.”

  “Well, thanks for breezing in and out.”

  “I didn’t get the impression that you cared if I stayed.”

  His blue eyes flashed. “I don’t.”

  That stung. I drew in a sharp breath. “So why are you giving me hell?” I snapped. “Why are you speaking to me now? Is it just to torture me with harsh words and blame? You’ve barely spoken to me all day, and now you want to accuse me of leaving too soon? What is your problem? You either want me here or you don’t.”

  His eyes flared as he stared down at me. He looked like he was barely keeping himself from replying to my outburst with one of his own. I breathed deeply, and his eyes dropped to my lips. For a moment—just a moment—I thought he might kiss me. I prayed, hoped he would.

  I heard Clayton’s voice from behind me. “Your car is here,” he said loudly, after clearing his throat.

  “I’ll take her.” Braden’s voice was almost a snarl.

  I didn’t protest, and after a moment’s hesitation, Clayton left us alone again.

  My chest felt full and empty and tense at the same time.

  “Where are you staying?” Braden asked, his eyes still on mine.

  I told him.

  He took out his phone and made a quick call then opened the door and led me to his car, which McGuire had just brought to the front.

  Inside, panic set in, questions racing through my mind. Were we going to talk? I wanted to run. I wanted to tell him this was the wrong time, because I knew we couldn’t be alone without doing something we would regret.

  Yet, I let him follow me to my hotel, and I didn’t say a word as we went all the way up to my suite.

  The door closed behind us, and I tried not to look at him for as long as I could. When I finally faced him, I noticed the strain of the last few days as well as the grief. He’d lost a man he loved and had to be strong for everyone else.

  His eyes met mine, and I didn’t look away.

  He closed his eyes and whispered my name, so softly it shattered my heart. Then he reached for me, and I accepted that it—being with him like that—had been inevitable right from the start.

  Twenty

  Braden

  She didn’t resist when I reached for her, and when my lips took hers, she moaned, melting like warm sweetness under my touch. I almost lost it then. She was like a drug, a hunger in my blood that couldn’t be quenched even with time or distance. I’d accepted that. I’d accepted that I would always want her, and when I got a taste, she would always have the power to reduce me to a frenzy of need I was powerless to control.

  Her mouth opened for me and immediately my head filled with her taste, her particular heady flavor. I wanted to slow down, wanted to savor every moment, every inch, but the soft sounds she made in her throat, the curl of her fingers gripping my hair, and the scent of her skin in my nose made me want everything all at once.

  “I need to touch you.” My voice was rough. My chest felt too full, expanded. “I can’t think of anything else.”

  Her eyes fluttered open, emerald orbs that found a way to pierce me deep inside. Her lips were swollen from my kiss, and that gave me some satisfaction.

  “I need you too, Braden,” she said breathlessly. “Don’t stop.”

  I took her lips again, unzipping her dress as I kissed her. My clothes came off too. My need for her was greater than any other consideration. There was nobody like her, and touching her, tasting her—it felt like home.

  Her nipples peaked between my lips. Her skin turned rosy when I trailed my tongue down over her belly. She gripped my hair and screamed my name when I lavished attention between her legs, and when I pulled her on top of me and buried myself deep inside her silken heat, she rode me hard, taking her pleasure and screaming my name. In that moment, she wasn’t Allie Gilbert; she was mine, only mine.

  The feeling lasted only till after, when we lay exhausted on the floor. Then without a word, I started to get dressed, sparing her only a word of goodbye as I closed the door behind me.

  Book Four

  Present

  Twenty-One

  Braden

  It was still snowing heavily outside. I’d spent most of the day in my study, making calls and arrangements that, to be fair, could have waited till after Christmas, because I couldn’t face the woman whose presence in my house made me feel like I was being torn into pieces.

  Maybe I should have stayed at the Jeffersons’. Fighting off seduction attempts from a woman who couldn’t even stir lukewarm emotions in me now seemed much more palatable than the maelstrom of feelings I was experiencing with Allie in the house.

  I heard the faint sounds of music from downstairs, but I ignored it. I ignored the faint hunger in my belly too. I was being a coward, hiding instead of facing her, instead of telling her that without her, life had lost most of its color. What was the point anyway? She was always going to step her dainty little feet on the next plane going back to the next location, the next premiere, the next awards party. That was her life.

  There was a knock, followed by Colleen.

  I smiled tightly. “What’s going on?”

  “Dinner.”

  “Yes.” I glanced at my watch. “Will Allie be joining me?”

  “Yes,” the housekeeper said, something in her expression leaving me wondering what was up.

  I waited a few minutes before going downstairs to the formal dining room.

  The table was set for two. Aside from the decorations on the walls, and slow holiday music, the table was lit by candles. It looked…set for romance.

  Allie walked in a few moments behind me and took in the whole setup. “This is nice,” she said noncommittally.

  “Yes.” I nodded, my eyes skimming over her. She was wearing a simple black dress, but nothing looked simple on her. On her, everything was sexy, tempting, an invitation to be peeled off to reveal the creamy beauty beneath.

  “I was told you wanted me to join you for dinner. I had no idea you’d planned something so elaborate.”

  I gritted my teeth; Colleen had a lot to answer for. “I didn’t plan anything, believe me. I’m as surprised as you are.”

  She sighed. “Well, we can’t let the effort go to waste, can we. Let’s eat.”

  She walked over to the place that had been set for her, and I hurried after her, pulling out her chair so she could sit. I sat at the head of the table and spent a few moments watching the play of candlelight on her hair and skin. She was breathtaking.

  “Thank you,” she said, looking surprised. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

  I realized I’d said the words out loud and groaned internally. I poured wine, and we ate in silence. It was just as well; soon I would be gone, and so would she.

  “Sometimes, I forget how beautiful it is here,” she said softly.

  “The house?”

  She nodded. “I don’t know. There’s a feeling of safety, like all the craziness can never reach me here.”

  “You love the craziness,” I said with a shrug.

  Her lips pursed. “I don’t.”

  “Would you give it up?”

  She looked at me. “Would you give up your career, all the funds you manage, because of a little unpleasantness that comes with it?”

  “Not because of any unpleasantness, but I’d give up a lot for something that was wort
h it.”

  She sipped her wine. “So would I, if the timing were right.”

  “It never is.” I shrugged. “The house will be on the market soon anyway. It has lost some of its charm for me in the last two years. I suppose when I bought it, there was some secret wish that I’d have a family to live here with. Now it’s just a big empty house with some fairly pleasant memories.”

  Allie put her wine glass down on the pristine white tablecloth and gave me a wounded look. “I take it that’s my fault as well.”

  I smiled humorlessly. “You always had your priorities.”

  “You were the one who left,” she said suddenly, vehemently. “You chose to leave.”

  “Because you didn’t want me to stay,” I fired back, trying to keep my voice from rising. “You made that very clear.”

  “You saw what you wanted to see,” she accused. “You couldn’t wait to go back to your retinue of models and ballet dancers and all the other women in your waiting harem.”

  “And for you, there was Guy Fletcher and all the other unfortunate men who make the mistake of falling in love with you.” I laughed bitterly. “No, Allie. I saw things the way they were.”

  She got up, pushing her chair back almost violently. “I’m sick of this,” she said, her voice strained. “It’s no use trying to be civil with you. You hate me? You blame me? Fine! Good night, Braden! And have a great life!”

  Twenty-Two

  Allie

  I only took two steps before he grabbed my arm. “Don’t walk away from me.”

  I whirled and got in his face, my memories bitter from the day he’d walked away from us in LA and again less than a year later, the day of his father’s funeral.

  “Why?” I cried. “Is that something only you are allowed to do?

  His eyes narrowed then flared. He was still holding my arm, and he pulled me roughly to him, one moment glaring at me, the next our lips met in an explosion of need that weakened my knees and made me unable to think.

  His hands gripped the neckline of my dress, and before I could say anything, he’d torn it down the front, exposing my breasts.

  “Jesus,” he groaned. “You have driven me crazy.”

  “Don’t even talk,” I fired back, pulling his head down so his lips touched mine again. I bit down on his lower lip as he cupped my breasts, squeezing my nipples between his fingers.

  I was wet and aching in my core, desperately impatient. He edged me toward the table, pulling one damask upholstered chair out of the way before pushing me onto my back. He bent over me to take my lips again while his fingers slipped through the torn front of my dress to find the slick desire inside my panties.

  He kissed me and fingered me at the same time, swallowing my desperate moans as I tore at his clothes. He made me crazy with desire. He made me want him in ways I could never want anyone else. I spread my legs wider, giving his fingers access to drive me completely wild.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful.” It didn’t sound like praise. It sounded like frustration and exasperation, but I didn’t care. I only wanted him. He pulled his sweater over his head and undid his pants, giving me just a moment to admire the hard length of his arousal before he grabbed hold of my hips and entered me.

  “Braden.” I gasped at the sweet fullness, temporarily out of breath.

  “Damn, Allie.” His voice was tight. He stayed unmoving for a moment, his face a study in pleasure and desire. His fingers were digging into my flesh, almost to the point of pain, but I loved it. I loved every inch of his touch.

  “You feel so good,” I breathed, rolling my hips, desperate. I wanted more. I wanted everything, and I almost cried in relief when he started to move, his hips flexing deeply as he drove me to climax after climax, making me his in ways nobody else ever could.

  Twenty-Three

  Braden

  We made love again after I carried her upstairs to our bedroom. There was still holiday music chiming softly in the air, and the bed smelled of her, flowery and sweet. There was no way I was ever going to get enough of her. I knew it, and my body knew it too.

  I kissed the curve of her shoulder. “After the funeral, in your hotel…I’m sorry for the way I acted.”

  “I wanted you too,” she said with a sigh. “It wasn’t just you.”

  “I’m not sorry for making love to you, but I hate myself for leaving.”

  “You had to go back to your mother.”

  I shrugged. “Yes, but I need you to know…it wasn’t just sex to me. Being with you has always meant much more than that.

  She sighed. “I know that. I never blamed you for that day. You were going through a lot. You had just lost your father. I was hurt, but not like before.”

  “In LA?”

  She nodded. “It killed me when you left.”

  “It killed me to leave.”

  “Then why did you?”

  “You know why. You treated our marriage like an afterthought, like it was just another expensive toy to play with.”

  “I had commitments I had to honor. I just needed some time, and I would have made space for you.”

  I was quiet. Her words confirmed my worst fears. “Made space for me…can’t you see, Allie? That was always the problem. I didn’t want you to make space for me. I wanted to be your husband…an important part of your life.”

  “You have always been that, and more.”

  I laughed and shook my head. “We spent just a few weeks together in the full year we were married. You never got around to moving into my apartment in the city. You never got around to leaving anything of yours here. I had to fly halfway across the country or halfway across the world whenever I wanted to see you. I had to deal with all the rumors, the articles calling me an overbearing husband who didn’t understand the industry. I had to deal with the hate from your fans…and you know what, I could have tolerated all of that if I could have been sure I had you.”

  “You had me.”

  “No, I didn’t. I had whatever was left after your priorities.”

  “I had commitments from before we got married, Braden.”

  “And I didn’t? You think I showed up at locations halfway across the world because I had nothing else to do? I had to make sacrifices too, and yet you prioritized your appearances and schedule over me. Your army of publicists and managers and agents insinuated with their actions that spending time with my wife interfered with the professional branding of their product—you.”

  She swallowed, and her eyes turned bright with unshed tears. “What can I say? I am a product for the consumption of millions of fans. You think that doesn’t tear me apart? You think I wouldn’t rather be here, with you?”

  I sighed. “Then maybe you should stay.”

  “I’m here now.”

  Only because she needed a temporary reprieve from the press. Only because she needed a hiding place. I shook my head. “For how long?”

  Twenty-Four

  Allie

  For how long?

  My heart was aching. I needed him to understand. I knew now that my future happiness depended on it.

  “Maybe what we need is not for me to make promises about things I can’t control. Maybe what I need is for you to believe you’re more important to me than anything else.”

  He let out a bitter laugh. “As usual, I have to be the one doing the believing and the waiting while you make no effort at all.”

  I closed my eyes as he rolled to the side and swung his legs over the edge, sitting with his back to me. I wanted to beg him to stay, but I had no more words. I wanted to weep, to cry, to make promises…

  “I can accept that me…this…it doesn’t mean as much to you as it should. I can accept that. I can live with the fact that you’ll always belong more to your public than you will to me, but I won’t accept being lied to. You can’t keep telling me you’re committed to us while never actually doing anything to prove that commitment.”

  I hugged the covers around me. “You knew I was never just g
oing to be the girl hanging on your arm.”

  “I never expected you to be.”

  He was right. He had turned himself inside out to be with me, yet I was always the one who had something else to do, somewhere else to be.

  He stood, naked, and walked toward the adjoining door. “It’s stopped snowing,” he said quietly. “The forecast says there’ll be a thaw by tomorrow. I’ll leave then. You can stay as long as you want.”

  This is it. I closed my eyes. Why couldn’t he see my side? If he couldn’t understand and wait for me, how could I be sure what we had was real?

  But how long did I expect him to wait?

  “Am I expecting too much?” The words came out in a whisper, but he didn’t reply. He had already gone, and all I heard was the sound of the door as it clicked shut behind him.

  I heard him leave the next morning. I stayed in bed, unable to watch. I felt like something was breaking inside of me as the purr of his car’s engine faded with distance. I fell back on the bed and covered my face with a pillow.

  There was a knock on the door, and a moment later, Colleen walked into the room. She took one look at my tear-stained face and sighed.

  “I thought you might like some tea.”

  “Thank you.” My voice was shaky. I felt embarrassed that she had witnessed my bawling over Braden.

  She waited. “If there’s anything else you need…”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m fine.”

  She took a step then paused. “This is the longest he’s stayed here in the last three years,” she said softly. “He stayed for you, and I saw him leave, Allie. I could see it wasn’t easy for him to go.”

  My body shook. “It was always the wrong timing,” I mumbled. “There’s no hope we can ever make it work.”