Enlighten (Thornhill Trilogy Book 2)

by J. J. Sorel

  I looked about me and noticed large glass doors that opened out into the pool area. As soon as I stepped out, salty sea air caressed my skin. I inhaled deeply, and all the tension clutching my shoulders subsided.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Sipping champagne, I leaned against the wall, allowing the frazzled orchestra ringing in my head to slide off into the dark night.

  Apart from a few strangers puffing away on cigarettes in shadowy corners, I was pleasantly alone.

  I looked up at the sky and was met by a pearly full moon. My eyes spiked with tears, more from its indescribable beauty than sadness, although its beauty stirred my soul, which was in deep unrest.

  A beam reflected down onto the sea. The rippling, silvery path, so classically romantic, massaged my poetic spirit. I imagined walking along the moonlit path in a diaphanous white dress.

  A deep voice vibrated into the back of my neck, rousing me out of my dream. “It’s a beautiful moon.”

  At first, I flinched. Then slowly, I turned, and there he was before me.

  “Yes,” I uttered, and my lips fell open. Shyness swept through me. It was his eyes that robbed me of wit and air. They were so dark blue under the night sky that I fell in deep.

  As always, his penetrating gaze stripped me bare, right down to my soul. The sizzling need emanating from him was so palpable that it filtered through my flesh, making it tingle. He stood really close. I caught a whiff of him. Subtle cologne and masculinity. Like music, fragrance roused poignant moments in my life. At that moment, I recalled Aidan biting my neck while filling me deeply with his hard need. Feeling faint, I wished he would move a little farther away.

  “I’ve been looking for you. I couldn’t find you. I just wanted to tell you that you were superb, Clarissa.” He seemed a bit tight, just as I was. We were like strangers. It was hard to believe that only a few weeks back, we’d made love in every position known to humankind while his addicted hands and insatiable lips devoured every square inch of my flesh.

  “Thanks, Aidan. It means a lot to know that. I’m not a natural when it comes to speaking publicly.”

  “You’re just sensitive, which is what makes you…” He stopped himself. Oh God, not this again. Aidan and his unfinished sentences.

  He grabbed my hand. A rush of blood charged up my arm and all the way down my body. My wobbly legs threatened to leave as I pushed into the wall for support.

  “Clarissa, I…”

  I released my hand, only because I couldn’t think straight. Such was the fire raging within. Aidan had this uncanny ability to drug me with his eyes and touch.

  He shook his head. “Why are you out here alone, Clarissa?”

  “I’m not good at this, Aidan. Maybe it’s easy for you to move on and flirt with beautiful, exotic women, but I can’t…” A tear clung to my eyelashes. Teetering ever so tenuously, it threatened to land on my cheek.

  Aidan took my limp hand again. “Hey, is that what all this is about? Do you think I’m trying to seduce Imelda?” His eyes softened, and a gentle curve of those mouth-watering lips formed.

  I couldn’t look at him. A smile from that delicious mouth and all was forgiven. Staring down at the pebbled path, I drew little circles with my feet. “I don’t know what to believe, Aidan.”

  “Clarissa, she’s married. She’s forty years old.”

  “That hasn’t stopped you in the past,” I said. Oh, no. I hadn’t wanted that to come out. Who was that alien invading my mind?

  Aidan’s face lengthened, and his eyes darkened. “I can see you haven’t forgiven me, Clarissa. I’m not sure what I’m meant to do to win your trust.” He turned as if to walk away. My heart raced with despair. I wished I could erase that last comment. Tabitha was right—a man like Aidan could have anybody he wanted.

  My lips opened, and I was about to speak when Aidan turned to face me. His eyes ran down my body, sending off electrical impulses before returning to my eyes.

  “I’m half the man without you, Clarissa.” Again, I was about to speak, but the intensity carved into his tight brow stole my words. “I am no longer that fucked-up teenager. Afghanistan bludgeoned him out of me.”

  I glanced up at him and exhaled slowly. “The past two weeks have been hell for me.” In a wispy voice I added, “I’m sensitive to a fault, Aidan.”

  He stared at me for what seemed ages. Slowly, I watched the seriousness that had claimed his beautiful face melt. “That’s what I love about you, Clarissa. Your heart is deep. And so is mine.” He ran his hands through his hair.

  Although I wanted to fall into his arms, the best I could do was linger on his handsome face. He looked different. Aidan had so many looks. At that moment it was the intense, breakable Aidan. And boy, he was sexy as hell. His delicious, full lips opened so suggestively that I wanted to press against him hard and eat him.

  Tabitha’s advice rang loud again. Aidan was too hot to keep chasing a difficult-to-get girl. And there were tons of girls like me, less sensitive, who wouldn’t give a damn about his past.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. We all make poor choices when we’re young.” I sighed.

  He nodded slowly. “Clarissa, will you come in and sit with me? I’d love to have you there. I promised I’d stay for the piano recital.” He held my hand, a faint, reassuring smile painting those lips that had me swooning. “I have this horrible feeling you’re about to leave.”

  “I must admit, I did feel like bolting after seeing you so engrossed in conversation with Imelda. She’s very beautiful.”

  “Nowhere near as beautiful as you, Clarissa. No one is.” He stared straight into my eyes. “She hasn’t got your large, sultry dark eyes, and this hair.” He twisted a strand in his finger, all the while his eyes remained on mine. “And that dress, Clarissa. I love that color against your long dark hair and milky skin.” His hand brushed the rich velvet of the skirt. His eyes travelled back to my flushed face. “And it has buttons.”

  Aidan was at his smoldering best. I could barely breathe. Especially with his voice husky with desire. My flesh was on fire. I wanted to tell him that I pictured his needy fingers undoing each button. That was why I’d bought the dress. But words escaped me.

  “Clarissa, will you sit with me?” He didn’t wait for my answer, for he could see it in my face. I just followed along as if there was no ground beneath me.

  He took my hand. Our crushing palms were ablaze.

  We entered the salon and sat down.

  The pianist had chosen to play The Gymnopédies & Gnossiennes by Erik Satie. Being my favorite classical music, the sylphlike music promised to tantalize my senses further.

  As the piano notes floated through the air, I was transported to a mythical land where women glided in long silk trains among exotic, fantastical creatures prancing about.

  Tears soaked my cheeks. I tended to be a cry-baby around beauty. And the music had such a profound impact that I would have cried even without Aidan being there.

  His shoulder brushed against mine. In moments of exquisite poignancy when the music soared through us like an exquisite creature of paradise, he squeezed my hand.

  I felt his gaze burning into me, and I turned.

  He stroked my cheek. A tear landed on his finger, and he touched his lips with it.

  It was like a form of witchcraft. That one gesture undid me. I was his. He could have been a devil worshipper and I would still have given my body and soul to Aidan Thornhill.

  “Are you okay?” he whispered.

  “The music is exquisite. I love Satie.”

  “It is that. It suits you. You’re just as exquisite.”

  What could I say to that? The ascent was extreme, from crawling on the cold ground to soaring high in the heavens. Words were in short supply.

  Rapturous applause roused me. I’d been under a waterfall, somewhere pristine and pure, with naked Aidan pressing his impressive manhood against me.

  “Clarissa.” The god spoke, and I turned to face him. A wi
de smile claimed my face. His eyes glistened and were heavy-lidded.

  I wanted to be swept off somewhere. I couldn’t face seeing anyone. I was certain that desire was written all over me.

  Without uttering another word, Aidan took me by the hand. The rest was hazy as we made our exit with minimal fanfare.

  “I’ve got a driver here to take us back,” said Aidan.

  “Oh… you didn’t come alone?” I asked, holding onto his strong arm, which was necessary, for my shoes were not suited to the rough terrain.

  “It’s standard practice for me at the moment,” he said, turning to touch my cheek. “Clarissa, thank you for coming with me. Leaving without you would have been devastating.”

  He stopped and stared at me with those aquamarine eyes, half smiling, half uncertain, but penetrating deeply to my soul. He stroked my arm. “You’re even more beautiful than the last time I saw you.” He glanced up to the sky. “The full moon suits you. You’re like a beautiful witch with that hair. I’m totally under your spell, Clarissa.” He stood so close that I could feel his breath.

  My legs trembled again. “I’m not very strong, Aidan. I feel so vulnerable at times. All the beautiful women that gravitate toward you.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t control that. I must admit I didn’t like seeing Michael chatting with you. I could see he was smitten. Which comes as no surprise with you in that dress, Clarissa. And everything about you, the way you hold yourself, your soft, breathy voice, this hair, those eyes, and your…” His hand held my waist and drew me closer.

  Oh… please ravage me.

  He whispered into my ear. “Your beauty just takes my breath away. And no woman is like you, Clarissa. You have nothing to fear there. I respect your sensitivity. I need it. I’m just as jealous. If not more.”

  I fell into his arms, and our lips met. His mouth was hot, soft, and hungry. Heat swept through my trembling frame, extinguishing the despair, and the cold nothingness of the past fortnight.

  As our tongues snaked together, I drank his flavor. My thirst for his lips was unquenchable. His strong arms lifted me. I was so weightless that my bones had seemingly melted into the ground.

  His heart pounded wildly against my chest.

  “Clarissa.” His eyes mining deeply, that my naked soul quivered.

  “Aidan.”

  “Let’s go home.”

  I nodded. A smile stretched my face. I floated along, legless and high on pheromones.

  Aidan stopped walking and turned to face me again. His face with that aroused sheen was strikingly handsome under the moonlight. I wanted a photo just like that of him.

  He spoke at last. “I would never, I repeat never do anything to hurt you. I just want you to promise me something.”

  He took both my hands. “If anybody—people like Jessica, my mother, Bryce—spread vicious rumors about me, promise me you’ll give me a chance to explain before you run.”

  “Your mother?”

  His mouth lifted at one end. “Yeah, well… she’s angry at me. Has been ever since I allowed Greta to take over the role of mother.”

  “She’s jealous of Greta?”

  He let out a slow breath. “You could say that.”

  “I’m not running anywhere, Aidan.”

  With the aid of moonlight, I detected a glint of relief in his eyes.

  Aidan kissed my flushed cheek. “Good.”

  Ahead, I saw a man leaning against Aidan’s SUV, smoking. As we approached him, he put out his cigarette. “How was it?”

  Aidan squeezed my hand. “Yeah, great. Clarissa, this is Evan.”

  My interest level jumped. Ah, this was the man tying up my best friend. I tried not to stare. He also seemed to take an interest in me, I noted. What had Tabitha told him? I wondered.

  He held out his large arm. Evan was very well built. As the two men stood side by side, I could have been staring at Mr. Universe entrants. The army certainly turned out strong-bodied males.

  “Pleased to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you, too,” I responded.

  “All good, I hope,” he said, with a sweet smile.

  “Let’s put it this way: I’ve never seen Tabitha happier.”

  He nodded slowly. “That’s nice to know.”

  Aidan had his arm around my waist. “Let’s get back.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Hey, what was all that about?” asked Aidan as I stood in the foyer of his magnificent, palatial home.

  “With Evan, you mean?”

  “Yeah, I noticed a look you gave him.”

  “I’m not attracted, if that’s what you mean.” Somehow, I sensed Aidan meant something else. He read me well.

  “No… not that. You just had a suspicious look. It’s the same expression a mother would pull when sizing up a new boyfriend.”

  “Well, I suppose I was curious to see what the man who had prompted my best friend to move in with him after such a short time looked like.”

  “Evan’s a great guy. The best. He’d jump in front of a bus to save those he cared for. He’s incredibly loyal, like all my team.”

  Even though I couldn’t get the image of Tabitha tied to the bed and flogged out of my head, my fears were somewhat quelled by Aidan’s glowing report.”

  “That’s good to know,” I said.

  He led me up the stairs. His arm around my waist, our bodies melded together as one. There was by now a firestorm between my legs. Blood gushed through my veins. Such was the anticipation roaring through me.

  When we stepped into his bedroom-come-living space, the first thing I noticed was the Godward painting of the sleeping beauty. Aidan had positioned it in front of his bed.

  I loved seeing it there, knowing that the girl in the painting reminded him of me.

  “Can I make you a drink? Are you hungry? I can run down to the kitchen and grab something if you like,” said Aidan, removing his jacket.

  My mind was on things other than food.

  “No, I’m okay. Maybe something to drink.”

  He held up a bottle of champagne. “How does Dom Pérignon sound?”

  “That would be lovely.” Champagne had become my favorite drink, I’d quickly discovered. And although I wasn’t up to speed when it came to the cost of fine bubblies, I knew that Aidan was holding up an expensive label.

  As he popped the cork, Aidan said, “There’s much to celebrate, Clarissa. Here’s to us.” He handed me a glass, and we clinked glasses.

  Yes, to us.

  I took a sip. The bubbles tickled my nose. “Mm… that’s heavenly,” I crooned.

  “Just like you,” said Aidan. He sat on a burgundy velvet Chesterfield sofa. With his legs crossed and arm around the curved ledge, Aidan made an eye-catching picture straight out of a European fine-living magazine—a handsome man living in old-world opulence. I couldn’t believe I was there with him. For a moment I thought I was in a dream again.

  He tapped the seat. “Come and sit here.”

  I sank into the firm but comfortable sofa. He snuck up close and kissed my neck. “What music would you like to listen to?”

  My focus went to a guitar on the ground, a notepad by its side. “I want to hear you play something.”

  I felt his body stiffen. “I’m not sure if I’m up to that.”

  “You watched me do a performance of sorts earlier. Now it’s your turn. Have you been working on something?” I rose and walked over to the notepad on the ground. There were words scribbled on the page.

  Aidan ran his hands through his hair, something he always did when challenged. “I have. But it’s unfinished.”

  “You’ve written a song. I’d love to hear it. Please,” I said.

  Aidan sighed deeply. “Only if you undo some buttons for me.”

  “Top or bottom?”

  Aidan’s eyes started at my feet and ran up slowly to my eyes, leaving a steamy trail. A devilish smile curled his lips. “Hard to decide. I’v
e fallen madly for your delectable legs in black lace. I spent the whole night wondering what was beneath that gorgeous velvet dress, from the moment you stood by the large screen.”

  “And here I was thinking you were concentrating on my lecture,” I said, undoing one button below and crossing my legs.

  “Nothing can compete with you, Clarissa. It’s hard to concentrate on anything when you dress like that.”

  “But I didn’t dress provocatively at all.”

  “Even in a hessian sack, Clarissa, you’d be hard to ignore. But I love that dress. I like you in your vintage dresses. They’re artful like you. Unique.” He pointed his finger. “Another one, please.”

  I undid one more. Garters with little bows were now on show.

  Aidan let out a ragged breath. As he sat across from me, it was hard not to notice a twitch in his groin.

  “Open the dress a little, Clarissa.” His voice had that aroused rasp that made me swell and go all sticky.

  I did just that.

  He hissed between his teeth. His finger pointed to my décolletage. “Another one, please.”

  “Only if you play me what you’ve written,” I said, crossing my legs.

  Aidan placed his guitar on his lap and turned the keys. When he was satisfied with the tuning, he looked up at me, pointing at my legs. “Uncross your legs, sweetheart.”

  The fire between my legs was so intense that it felt like Aidan’s gaze would burn a hole in my panties.

  He bowed his head and, balancing the notepad on his footballer thigh, he plucked the guitar while singing about a woman whose skin glistened like the moon, whose scent bettered all the flowers in the garden. Whose heart and eyes had bewitched him…

  It was sublime. Tears filled my eyes. Aidan’s melancholic chords filtered through the air. His passionate strums resonated through me as my heart melted with each beat. Aidan’s music was edgy and bluesy. His raspy singing voice crooned as if in the throes of an orgasm. Or so I imagined. Everything about Aidan was carnal and seductive.