by Emma Slate
“He has his life and everything money could buy. I’m just…a diversion,” I said.
She shook her head. “He has people here. He takes care of them. That’s what Hadrian does. He takes care of people, but he refuses to let anyone take care of him. He’s never let anyone in. Until you. He needs you.”
“He doesn’t,” I insisted.
“Hadrian brought you here. You, not someone else. That was a big step for him. Don’t let him push you away.”
“So, I should give him a medal?” I asked dryly. “I should give a rich, mysterious billionaire the benefit of the doubt all because he brought me to his island home?”
Ingrid’s smile was slow—and not at all expected. She looked out the window. “It promises to be a clear day. You should go out and enjoy it.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay the night?” Ingrid asked. “It’s no trouble. I can drive the golf cart to the other side of the island, get some clothes, and then come back. Hadrian won’t mind.”
I shook my head. “The good weather has kept as long as it’s going to. It will storm. Stay inside, stay warm.”
She frowned. “I don’t want you to be alone. Hadrian told me—”
“It doesn’t matter what he told you,” I said. “I don’t mind being here by myself. I actually prefer it.”
“Let me give you my number. Just in case.”
I handed her my cell. Ingrid plugged in her number and then gave it back to me.
After my walk on the beach, I’d gone for a swim. My phone had rested on a chair next to the pool, but it had remained steadfastly silent.
During the afternoon, Ingrid plied me with food and conversation, keeping it light and bubbly and Hadrian-free.
“I’ll be here at eight tomorrow morning,” she said.
I bit my lip. “Is there enough food to last a few days?”
She frowned. “Yes. It’s been stocked with fresh eggs, cheese, frozen meat pies I made just last week in the freezer. Why?”
“Take the next few days off,” I told her. “You don’t have to come here and entertain me.”
“But I took yesterday off,” she said, her tone perplexed. “And I’m not supposed to leave you alone. Hadrian’s orders.”
I smiled slightly. “Hadrian’s not here, is he?”
“Well, no.”
“Will he fire you? If you don’t comply?”
“No. He won’t fire me.”
“Then please, Ingrid. Let me have some space?” I stared at her and widened my eyes, beseeching her to give me what I wanted.
She studied me for a long moment and then she nodded. “All right. I’m calling him to let him know, though. About what you’ve asked. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Ingrid nibbled her lip. “Have you talked to him today?”
“No. Have you?”
“He called once to let me know he got to Edinburgh safely.”
Hadrian cared enough to let Ingrid know where he was, but he couldn’t—wouldn’t—offer me the same courtesy. Not even a text.
It was another reminder of the truth of our relationship.
Tiffany was right. I couldn’t think of myself as Hadrian’s girlfriend.
Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance.
“You better get home before it starts coming down,” I told her.
She headed for the mudroom to catch the elevator that would take her to the garage. “I like you, Eden,” she said with the same forthright honesty she’d used with me from the moment I met her.
“I like you, too,” I said.
She looked like she wanted to say more but decided against it when she closed her mouth and nodded her head. When she got to the door of the mudroom, she said, “If you change your mind, please call. Even if it’s the middle of the night.”
“Thank you.” I wouldn’t take her up on the offer. I wanted to be alone. I wanted to sit in the dark with a glass of something strong and stare into the flames of the gas fireplace.
When Ingrid left, I did exactly that. I poured myself a glass of brandy from one of the crystal decanters, sipped on the amber liquid, and turned on the fireplace in the den. The sky darkened outside the massive living room window and the threat of rain drew closer. I watched from the couch as the storm finally arrived.
My conversation with Tiffany filtered through my mind. Hadrian was not my boyfriend and I was not his girlfriend.
This was a business arrangement.
A billionaire’s private island was my playground.
It was time to have some fun.
Chapter Twenty-One
Three days later, I blew into the house windswept and disheveled. I dropped my pair of sunglasses on the front table and sashayed into the living room and came to a stop.
Hadrian’s stoic face greeted me as he slowly rose from the couch. “Where have you been?”
I raised my brows. “Me? Where have you been?”
His jaw clenched. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”
I shrugged. “You’re right. You don’t.”
Hadrian’s brow furrowed. “What are you playing at?”
“I’m not playing at anything,” I assured him. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to fix my hair. I really should’ve worn a head scarf while driving with the top down.” I hastily tried to gather my tangled locks into a makeshift ponytail.
“Driving with the top down?” he inquired.
I grinned cheekily at him. “I took your Shelby Cobra for a spin. That car is sexy, Hadrian. You really should drive it more.”
His eyes glittered with an unfathomable emotion, and I wondered if he would lay into me for driving one of his cars without him present.
“Dinner tonight on the rooftop terrace at seven,” he said sternly.
I saluted him and then attempted to move past him to the staircase, but his hand on my arm stopped me.
“You haven’t greeted me properly,” he admonished.
“I haven’t, have I?” I murmured, looking up at him through the sweep of my lashes. I gripped his lapels and raised myself up on my tiptoes.
I was still too short to reach his mouth, so his head dipped and took my lips with his.
His tongue thrust into my mouth, boldly claiming me.
Four days without Hadrian’s dynamic presence and all it took was one kiss for my body to flare to life. I leaned into him, my breath hitching when his arms swept around me. He hauled me closer and continued to ravage my mouth.
I was about to suggest moving things to the bedroom and giving him a pleasurable afternoon when he pulled away.
His thumb swept across my lips, now swollen from his attention. “Dinner,” he reminded me. “Don’t be late.”
Without a farewell, he stalked from the living room toward the elevator and then he was gone again.
I frowned in confusion. I could tell Hadrian had wanted me.
What game was he playing?
I didn’t see him all afternoon or into the evening. Two hours before dinner, I started my transformation. I showered and scrubbed my body with luxurious citrus body wash. After I dried my hair, I curled it and let it fall across my shoulders. My makeup was soft and demure except for my dramatic red lips. Then I went into the closet to pick out a dress.
I chose a sleeveless black gown that clung to my curves and paired it with spiky black heels. I had only the jewelry I’d worn when traveling from New York, but it didn’t match my outfit, so I left myself unadorned. We were dining on the rooftop terrace and I knew it had heat lamps, so I didn’t bother bringing a wrap.
I left the bedroom and still didn’t see a sign of Hadrian. It was nearly seven o’clock when I took the stairs to the rooftop terrace. I opened the door to the roof and strode to a table that had been covered with a cream tablecloth and two place settings. In the center was a gourmet charcuterie board, olives, and other antipasti, and an unopened bottle of red wine.
The sun was still aloft but the air was cool and teased the hair at my nap
e. Heating lamps dispersed around the terrace roof were on full blast, and I didn’t even shiver. I walked to the terrace wall, which was four feet in width and breastbone high, designed as a stronghold against the powerful Shetland wind. I rested my hands flat against the gray surface and stared at the vast ocean below me. There wasn’t a cloud for miles, and I hoped the weather held.
The door to the terrace opened and the sound of Hadrian’s steps approached. He came to stand next to me, mimicking my pose by placing his hands on the wall. Hadrian was still in his suit from earlier and he reached into his inner breast pocket and pulled out a black velvet jewelry box, setting it down in front of me.
“A gift from Edinburgh,” he said.
“Thank you.” I ignored the box and kept my gaze on the horizon.
“Most women would be more effusive in their gratitude.” His brogue was thick and heavy, and it settled over me like a warm blanket.
I looked at him and grinned. “I’m not most women.”
He surveyed me slowly, taking his time, his eyes lingering on my lips. “No truer statement has ever been uttered.” Hadrian opened the jewelry box and presented me with a set of pearl earrings. “It’s why I bought you black pearls instead of white.”
“They’re beautiful,” I said. “Thank you.” I swept my hair away from my ears and put them on. I then angled my neck so he could see the pearls against my skin. “Well?”
His thumb swept my lobe and then danced across my jawline. “Perfect.”
He then took my hand and led me to the table. Hadrian held out my seat for me, reminding me of the night we’d discussed the contract. It already seemed so long ago, like another chapter in the book of my life.
I placed my napkin in my lap and watched Hadrian open and pour the wine into our glasses before taking his seat.
He lifted his glass toward me, and I did the same. We clinked and then drank. The bold red wine was heady and smoky, and it lingered on my tongue. When I was done savoring the taste of it, I set my glass down and looked at Hadrian.
There was an unresolved tension between us, like we were both dancing around each other.
“What have you been doing the last few days? Aside from driving my favorite car?” he asked, eyes glittering with amusement.
“I’ve been walking the beach and swimming in the pool. When the weather is clear and there’s sun, I’ve been coming up here to sunbathe topless.”
His eyes darkened with desire.
“I’ve had to turn the lamps on to stay warm, but it’s been worth it not to have the tan lines. Evenings are spent making a simple meal for one—I don’t know if Ingrid mentioned it to you, but I told her not to bother coming over to clean up after me since I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself. All in all, it’s been a pretty relaxing few days.”
“How did you spend your nights while I was away?”
“I watched a movie in the theater room while drinking your high-end scotch. And then I went to bed and made sure to sleep diagonally and really stretch out.”
“Is that all you did?” he asked, his voice low and sensual.
“No.” I pinned his stare with mine. “Every night before I fell asleep, I touched myself and pretended it was you.”
He paused for a moment and then he rose from his seat. “Stand up,” he ordered.
I pushed away from the table and rose.
“Go to the terrace wall and place your hands on it.”
I shivered from the intractable command and walked slowly to the terrace wall and did as he bid. Excitement bloomed in my blood, heating me from the inside out.
A few moments later, I felt Hadrian at my back. His hands gripped my hips and hauled me into his body so I could feel how much he wanted me. His touch wandered down and lifted the skirt of my dress.
I wasn’t wearing underwear, and cool air kissed my bare skin.
He traced patterns of desire across my cheeks and down the backs of my thighs until he was spreading me open.
I flattened my palms against the stone, wanting something solid to grab onto, knowing I was about to be shaken to my core. Sparks of excitement shot through me when I heard him unzip, and then I felt his erection nudging me.
“I don’t know what fucking game you’re playing,” he gritted out.
He sank slowly into me, filling me from behind. It was almost too much, but when Hadrian placed a hand at the small of my back and leaned me against the terrace wall, I stretched to accommodate him.
I felt him everywhere, my body perfectly in tune with his. I’d been ready for him since I saw him that afternoon, and I was eager for the pleasure he could give me.
He thrusted and groaned, and his fingers wandered toward the seam of my legs to flit across the bundle of nerves waiting for attention.
With a small cry I erupted around him, but he continued to drive himself into me. It felt like a punishment—for what I couldn’t say.
His lust for me was unyielding and with each plunge he branded me, sending me closer to another precipice. When I cried out that I was coming again, he gripped my hips and rammed himself against me. After a moment, Hadrian slid out of me, taking his heat with him.
In a state of pure exhaustion, I rested against the terrace wall and pressed my cheek to the cool stone. I closed my eyes and let my breath ease as I slowly drifted down from the height of pleasure.
I felt him gently tug my skirt back down to conceal me and then he took my hand and helped me stand.
His shirt collar was open at the neck and his suit jacket was wrinkled, but he’d tucked himself back into his trousers.
Without a word, he led me to the table and helped me to my seat before taking his own. He cut into the wedge of hard cheese, placed it on a cracker, and handed it to me.
“Thank you,” I said and then took a dainty bite.
He stared at me across the table, his expression reserved. “You’re not the same as you were four days ago.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “We just—”
“I’m not talking about sex. I know how your body reacts to mine. I’m talking about the fact that you’re treating me with cool detachment.”
“I’m not mad at you, if that’s what you think.”
He shook his head slowly. “I left almost as soon as I brought you here. I haven’t called or texted in four days and you act like you don’t care. Furthermore, you didn’t send me a slew of texts wondering when I’d come home.”
My brow furrowed. “Was I supposed to? I’m not your girlfriend. You don’t owe me anything, Hadrian. We have a contract. What you do with your own time is none of my business.”
“You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what again?”
“Not acting the way I expected you to.”
“Sorry, I’ll try to be better about that,” I said with a grin.
He pointed a finger at me. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?” I demanded. “I’m just being me. I’m being honest. If you want me to pretend to be mad at you for leaving me alone on this gorgeous island with more than enough things to occupy my time, I guess we could role play. I didn’t know you were into that.”
“I don’t like this side of you, Eden.”
“What side of me is that?”
“This cool, flirtatious side of you. You’re acting like a Rex girl.”
“I am a Rex girl.”
“During our time together, you’ve never behaved like one. Your reactions to me have always been honest—and for lack of a better word—volatile.”
“So you did think I was going to be upset that you didn’t communicate with me for four days, didn’t you?”
“I told you as much,” he groused. “You continue to surprise me.”
“You’re not a man who likes surprises,” I stated. “You were surprised that I called you on your shit. You didn’t like it, so you left.”
“Called me on my shite?” he barked. “I don’t have shite.”
“Oh, honey,” I drawle
d condescendingly. “We all have shit. Even handsome billionaires.”
“Careful, Eden,” he warned, a muscle in his jaw ticking.
“Careful what?” I demanded, rising from the table. “Should I be worried that you might nullify the contract and send me home? Go for it. You want me to be your plaything? Fine. You want to pick me up whenever you want and then set me aside like a toy? Fine. But if you thought leaving me alone for four days without a word would make me sit and pine for you, you picked the wrong Rex girl.”
I swept from the rooftop terrace in an emotional blaze, made even angrier when I realized Hadrian had been inside of me not that long ago and the proof of him was running down my leg, reminding me that I was nothing more than a whore.
I woke up to a pair of wild, blue-gray eyes.
“Gah!” I reared back into my pillow, trying to put distance between Hadrian and me.
Sunlight filtered through the glass doors leading to the balcony, bathing the room in a fresh morning glow.
“How did I get here?” I asked in confusion. “I distinctly remember falling asleep on the theater-room couch.”
“You did. I carried you to the bed. You didn’t even notice.”
I lifted the sheet and saw that I was still in my pajamas from the previous evening and let out an exhale.
After leaving Hadrian on the rooftop terrace, I’d showered in an attempt to remove his touch from my skin, but it hadn’t worked. I still remembered the feel of him, the scent of him.
“How long have you been awake?” I asked, blinking the sleep from my eyes.
“A few minutes,” he replied.
“Why were you watching me sleep?”
“Curiosity.”
“About?”
“How you managed to fall asleep after our fight.”
“Brandy.”
“You drink brandy now?” he asked.
“I finished off the last of your scotch in the decanter while you were gone. I had to settle for the brandy.” I stared at him for a moment and stated, “You were up most of the night.”
I didn’t wait for confirmation because I didn’t need it. His sleepless night was in the shadows under his eyes.