IGNITE : A BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE

by Stephanie Brother

  Breaking only for lunch I manage to complete about 10,000 words of a novel featuring a hero with terrible disfigurements. I suppose it will end up a fantasy version of beauty and the beast in some way; the scarred creature finding forgiveness, redemption, and love after a suspenseful journey.

  I dress for dinner and take my car across to Corinthia, finding that I’m first to our pre-booked table. Aaron and Nicole arrive shortly after, beaming like two people that have been having a lot of very good sex. I know, from my afternoon of voyeurism that they seem to be on the same wavelength. Nicole blushes when Aaron introduces her and I reach to shake her hand, but then seems to find her steal and narrows her eyes.

  “I should slap you in the face for being such a cad,” she says in a haughty English accent, reminiscent of the Queen.

  “You probably should, m’lady,” I counter, lowering my head in a bow. “Please forgive my lack of chivalry.”

  Aaron laughs and slaps me on the shoulder. “It’s good to see you, Robert,” he says. “I was in Rhode Island to see Nicole and she’s going back to London tomorrow morning so I thought I would bring her with me to New York so you could meet properly.” I grin at Nicole who rolls her eyes. “I’m going to stay at the X hotel with her tonight but I’ll be free after lunch.”

  “Great,” I say, taking a seat at the table I’ve selected near the windows. The waitress arrives with a bottle of mineral water and the wine I’ve ordered. Aaron and Nicole sit facing me and I smile when he put his arm around the back of her chair proprietorially. I haven’t seen him look so genuinely happy for a long time. Aaron has his own demons; a relationship that ended in a betrayal so bad that I’d wondered if he would ever trust again. It seems he’s found someone who’s finally cracked his hard shell.

  After some light-hearted conversation, I can see why. Nicole is funny and warm and keeps reaching out to touch Aaron when she’s talking. She makes me laugh, teasing Aaron about hiring teenage boys to help him carry extravagant bags of food shopping back her apartment when he visited her in London. I like that she seems down to earth and unaffected by Aaron and his financial status. It is hard to find women who aren’t motivated by money and the position and privilege it affords. If Aaron has managed it, I’m damn happy for him, but only time will tell.

  I know Aaron is visiting because he’s worried about me. When I called him last week, it was on a day when I’d been feeling lower than usual and he must have picked up on it. Some days, remaining upbeat is harder than others.

  We get to the end of the meal without the conversation turning to anything difficult. Outside the restaurant, I give Nicole a respectful peck on the cheek and promise to always be a gentleman in the future. That earns me a smile. Aaron pats my shoulder and tells me he’ll call me tomorrow. His car pulls up at the curb and I wave them off feeling lighter and happier.

  It’s short-lived.

  I’m about to start walking when I feel a tap on my shoulder. It’s hard. Way harder than what a stranger would inflict. When I turn to find out what their problem is I come face to face with a huge bouquet of flowers that are roughly shoved at me.

  “Here,” a familiar voice says from behind the blooms that I’m now clutching. “You can have them back.”

  Analie.

  By the time I’ve worked out what’s happening Analie is on the move, striding along the sidewalk fast, obviously not wanting to talk to me.

  “Analie, wait,” I call, feeling ridiculous running after her with the flowers. A dark-haired, middle-aged woman in a suit walks past and I thrust the flowers at her. “Here, these are for you,” I blurt, then dash off after Analie who’s already disappeared around a corner. “Ana…come on, don’t run off like this.”

  “Why,” she yells over her shoulder. “It’s what you did last night.”

  “Come on,” I say, finally getting alongside her. She’s dressed in smart slacks and a matching jacket teamed with running shoes. No wonder she’s moving so fast.

  “Come on what, Robert?” She stops and faces me with her arms crossed in front of her, the picture of hostility.

  “Look, I explained, okay?” I say, running my hands through my hair. Her eyes are narrowed into a look that could wilt flowers and I feel as awkward as a teen asking his crush out for prom.

  “You explained what? That you’re a conceited jerk who was only interested in kissing me while you thought I was pretty, but then you saw this…” she waves her hand around the side of her face marred by the burn, “…and you decided it wasn’t such a good idea anymore.”

  “That isn’t what happened, Analie. Don’t make me into a monster.”

  “That’s how you made me feel last night,” she says and starts to walk again. Her words spear me but the dismissive flick of her hair over her shoulder as she struts away made me angry.

  “Stop walking away from me when I’m talking to you,” I shout, refusing to chase her any further. Analie stops and turns with a shocked expression. It seems that she isn’t expecting me to be angry. I don’t know why I’m so bothered about what she thinks of me. We hardly know each other after all, but I find myself caring that she understands I’m not an asshole and even more importantly, I need to make sure she isn’t left feeling hurt.

  “You don’t know me, Dr. Analie Taylor,” I say calmly. “You might think you know me, because of your job. You’re probably quite good at reading people, but not me, okay. When I apologized I meant it and I was honest in my explanation. You were hurt, and I’m sorry about that, and I’m not for one moment trying to diminish that. But I want you to stop this, now.”

  Her eyes scan me, taking in everything no doubt. Her gaze is like the laser on a sniper rifle, slowly moving until it finds its target. She looks right into my eyes as if she’s convinced she’ll be able to see a lie in them. I don’t look away because I know that if I did she would never believe what I’m saying.

  She shifts her bag on her shoulder as we stand blocking the pavement, never taking her eyes off me. Then, with a glint in her eye that says she’s going to prove me a liar she says, “Kiss me again, Robert.”

  “What?” It’s the last thing I was expecting her to say but I understand her intentions immediately. If I don’t kiss her she’ll have her theory confirmed; that I’m concerned with her appearance. That I’m a shallow and callous man.

  But if I do kiss her, where would that leave me?

  I enjoyed her company at the party. More than I’d enjoyed a woman’s company in a long time, but I’m not in any kind of place to offer her the kind of relationship she deserves. I keep things light. I choose women who won’t expect much from me outside of a short-term good time.

  Analie isn’t that kind of girl.

  “You can’t do it, can you?” she says, as though my inaction proves her point.

  I know kissing her is a stupid thing to do. Analie’s being childish and stubborn, wanting to prove herself right, but I’m not going to let her make me appear to be a liar.

  The surprise on her face is almost comical when I stepped forward and cup the back of her head, pulling her face towards me. I don’t expect the rush of pure lust that knocks me in the gut when our lips meet and her hand grabs at my shoulder to pull me closer. In seconds her lips part and our tongues touch and I moan, pulling her closer, wanting to feel the curves that I know are hiding under her formal clothes, against my body. I catch the scent of her shampoo again and feel the warmth of her skin under my palm. Her hair is so silky where it tumbles over my forearm and as we come together something inside me seems to open to her.

  My empty heart skitters. I’ve kept it separate from my life for so long and I don’t like feeling this desire I’m feeling for more than just the physical.

  I haven’t allowed myself to enjoy the comfort of being in someone’s arms since Bethany. Even after all this time, I feel disloyal.

  Analie’s hand comes to my cheek in a soft caress and it feels so good.

  So good and so terrible.

  What h
ave I done?

  5

  Analie

  He kisses me.

  I didn’t think he would. I was convinced that I knew exactly the kind of person Robert is, but now I’m not so sure.

  His cheek is rough with the stubble that has already made me lips feel tender. My heart is pounding against my ribs and I feel woozy from lust and maybe from surprise too.

  I pull back and meet his eyes and I don’t understand what I see there. His expression is dark but not in a good way. His eyes seem tormented. Is he regretting what he did already?

  “Analie,” he says softly. It sounds like a warning.

  “I get it,” I say and turn again. I should never have stopped walking. My heart feels bruised from the rejection. This is why I never put myself out there like this. It’s why I’ve focused on my work for so long.

  “Don’t go,” he says, clasping his hand around my wrist.

  “Why should I stay? What is there left to say.”

  Robert exhales and releases my arm. “You could tell me more about your reading material.” His lips quirk into a smile so tiny I might have missed it if I wasn’t looking at him so hard, trying to work him out.

  I snort, shaking my head and looking in the direction of home. None of this makes sense to me. My feelings. His responses. It feels tangled and uncomfortable in one way but completely right and natural in another.

  “Conversation like that was easy when we were both wearing masks,” I say.

  “You like me better with my face covered?” he says with a laugh. I shake my head. “You know, maybe you should go,” he says. “You don’t want to get mixed up with someone like me.”

  I pull the strap of my purse up onto my shoulder more securely. “Someone with skeletons?”

  Robert nods.

  “Maybe it’s time you let go of the old bones. Jumping new ones is way more fun.”

  He laughs again. “I’m fine with jumping new bones,” he tells me. “But I don’t think you’re a jumping bones kinda girl.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  We stand and smile at each other. To outsiders we must look awkward; a little too much distance between us to be friends. I don’t like the distance. From the first time I saw Robert, I wanted to stand close to him. The breeze blows gently and I catch his scent again. It’s like sweet torture.

  “Shame,” he says gently with a smile.

  I shake my head again, still completely confused. I’m guessing all the mixed signals are because he really doesn’t know what he wants. I wish I could get him into a chair in my office. I’d love to crack him open like a nut and find the soft kernel of truth inside him.

  I’m about to tell him that everything in life that’s worth having takes a little work when my cell phone begins to ring.

  6

  Robert

  Analie begins searching in her large slouchy brown bag for her phone. She frowns a little when she sees the number, then answers.

  “Hi.” Her face looks concerned as the person on the end of the phone begins to talk. “Oh, no,” Analie gasps, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. I watch with concern as her eyes close slowly, shutting out the world while she deals with the bad news that she’s obviously hearing. “I’ll be right there,” she says and disconnects the call.

  When she looks up at me I see her chest rise with a deep, steadying breath.

  “That was the hospital. One of my patients has been taken to the ER. Summer, the girl you presented the award to last night. She took an overdose.”

  “Oh no,” I say, reaching out to touch Analie’s arm. My stomach clenches at the thought of another unnecessary death. “How are you going to get back to the hospital?”

  “I’ll find a cab,” she says, beginning to look up and down the road, our kiss long forgotten.

  “That’s okay. I have my car.”

  “Are you sure?” she asks, her voice wobbling.

  “Yes, absolutely.” I take hold of her elbow and steer her to the parking lot that is just a block from the restaurant. Analie is quiet as we walk side by side. I know how it feels when someone you know is close to death. The sense of powerlessness and guilt. As Summer’s psychologist, I wonder if Analie is feeling a sense of responsibility for missing the signs, if indeed there had been any.

  “She’s in the right place, Analie,” I say as we reach the car. I know my words won’t be much comfort but it’s what we do when people are faced with grief and worry. Analie glances over my Maclaren F1 absently and gets in as though she’s taking a seat in a Toyota. If the situation hadn’t been so grave, I would have smiled at her lack of interest in the things that my usual female companions find very important.

  “She is,” Analie replies as I started the car, “but that doesn’t mean anything if it was a long time before she was found.”

  I drive at the speed limit, which is unusual for me, and Analie is quiet. I don’t want to push her for conversation she obviously isn’t in any place to have. It isn’t until I pull close to the hospital that she turns to me.

  “Thank you, Robert.” Her voice is so quiet and sad.

  “It’s okay,” I reply, pushing a strand of her hair aside. She looks so fragile. Nothing like the strong woman she was before the news. “Will you call me and let me know how she is?” I ask.

  Analie digs around in her bag again. “Here,” she says, thrusting her phone at me. “Save your number…my hands are too shaky.”

  When I’ve finished, she gives me a weak smile and seems reluctant to face whatever is waiting for her in the hospital. “It’ll be okay.”

  Analie shrugs. “Will it?” she asks, rubbing her hand over the scarred side of her face absentmindedly. I know nothing about what had happened to her to mark her skin, or what effect it has on her life. Maybe it’s what drove her to train in her field. Maybe it’s what drove her to help people who were facing a similar experience. And if it is, it would likely make the situation she’s facing even harder to deal with.

  “We can hope.”

  “Yeah,” she says, reaching out for the handle. “I guess we can do that.”

  I watch her get out of the car and close the door. I stay while she crosses to the hospital main entrance, her shoulders hunched around her troubles. When she’s finally inside I head home. I don’t say a prayer for Summer, though. Prayers are for people who believe they can make a difference, and I know so much better than that.

  7

  ANALIE

  I have a terrible feeling in my chest as I walk to the hospital as if I know before I reach the ER that Summer is already gone. I don’t know why.

  She’s a young girl with a strong heart and a body that will recover well with the right treatment. Maybe it’s because, through all the sessions I’ve had with Summer since her injuries, I’ve come to know the kind of person she is, and that’s an organized one. If she wanted to die she would have planned it in a way to ensure success. Maybe she hadn’t been good at covering her emotions and someone had suspected enough to check on her. Maybe that was why she was discovered.

  In the ER, I show my ID to the first nurse I come across and ask her for Summer’s room. Her face falls and with it, so does my heart. “Her parents are in the family room,” she says. “Would you like me to take you to them?”

  The prospect of facing Summer’s family at such a distressing time seems like too much to bear but I know I have to be strong. It’s my duty, as Summer’s therapist, to go to them, especially as they’d asked me to be notified. The nurse leads me down the stark corridor that smells of disinfectant and coffee. I avoid looking into any of the rooms for fear of seeing something that might tip my tightly controlled emotions over the edge. When we reach the family room I can hear sobbing and my throat begins to burn with emotion. To lose a daughter so young and in such tragic and wasteful circumstances…well, I can’t possibly imagine what it must feel like.

  The nurse opens the door quietly and Summer’s brother turns, looking me over with wet bloodshot
eyes that are just the same shade as his sisters.

  “Hey,” I say and my voice causes Summer’s mom to turn.

  “Dr. Taylor,” she says, standing and walking towards me. “She’s gone.” Mrs. Kenner collapses into my arms and I hold her while she sobs, making soothing noises and trying my hardest to swallow down the emotion I’m feeling.

  I stay with her family for an hour while they grieve and then when the nurses come to talk to them, I make my excuses to leave. I feet empty; hollowed out by emotion, exhaustion and maybe some disappointment too. I walk through the hospital until I’m standing out front and it’s only then that I remember Robert and my promise.

  I dial his number without really thinking, such is my distress. When he answers I can’t hold back my tears anymore.

  “Analie, is that you?” he asks and I reply with a muffled sob. “Are you okay?” His voice is soft and concerned, the tone only making me feel worse.

  “No,” I manage to choke out. “She didn’t make it, Robert.”

  “Oh no.” Robert pauses for a few seconds and I can hear his breathing, slow and deep as though he’s trying to calm himself. “Shall I come and get you?” he asks.

  “No,” I say, not really thinking. I don’t want to put him out. It’s so late and I’m very used to fending for myself.

  “I’ll be there soon,” he says, shuffling around in the background as he readies himself to leave.

  I’m now crying openly, no longer able to hold my emotions inside. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I know,” he says softly. “But I told you I’m a sucker for a woman in distress. Don’t go anywhere, okay? I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  It’s a cold night but I stay outside with my coat huddled around myself, grateful for the numbness and the distraction from my sadness. True to his word Robert arrives quickly. It’s strange to get into his silly sports car, and stranger still when he reaches out and takes hold of my hand, giving it a good squeeze. “I’m so sorry, Analie. It’s such a terrible thing to happen.”