A Million Different Ways To Lose You (The Horn Duet Book 2)

by P. Dangelico

  “Yes,” Hani answered, his face a mix of interest and concern.

  “I owe you, man.”

  “Yes, you do. It wasn’t easy…the charity organization is based in Beirut.” Hani’s dark eyes looked troubled. “On the surface, everything looks tidy.”

  “Shit.” Sebastian tilted his chin up, his gaze taking in the night sky. Overhead, countless stars twinkled while turmoil churn down below. “And?”

  I didn’t miss the way Hani scanned the surrounding area left and right before speaking. In a low voice, he replied, “And the doctor that runs it has ties to Hezbollah. Distant ties, but ties nonetheless––at one point he was the personal physician for a top ranking Hezbollah leader.”

  His eyes slamming shut, Sebastian mumbled a low, savage curse.

  “Could be nothing,” Hani offered. Sebastian’s piercing gaze slid back to his friend. Sighing deeply, he said, “Highly unlikely. But I sure as fuck hope you’re right.”

  Lost in his dark thoughts, Sebastian didn’t utter a single word on the trip back to our boat. Once we were back on board though, he wasted no time. Taking my hand, he led me below deck and straight to the bedroom

  As always, he stripped me slowly, with infinite care, as if he were unwrapping a priceless artifact. Except this time it made my blood boil. The more clothes he carefully peeled off of me, the angrier I became. His mind felt a million miles away. Even his touch felt like plastic, bloodless and foreign. I began tugging roughly on his linen shirt. When a few buttons flew off, he scowled at me and placed his hand over mine.

  “What?” My voice was intentionally sharp.

  “Easy,” he warned.

  I scoffed, and the v between his brows deepened. Undeterred, he continued his careful divesting of clothes until we were both naked and lying on the bed. The moonlight streaming in through the porthole made the room look dreamy and incandescent while my mood was quickly sinking to black.

  The petal-soft kisses started at my ankles, traveled over the soft landscape of my inner thighs, over my hipbone and belly. I had never once shied away from his touch. This time, however, everything felt off. By the time he reached my collarbone, he could sense I wasn’t aroused; we had always been acutely aware of each other’s needs an this moment was no different. His fingers languidly stroked between my thighs. The dryness was unmistakable. His eyes flickered to mine and lingered on the tightness of my pursed lips. “What is it?”

  It took me a moment to screw up the courage. Looking him dead in the eyes, I said, “I want you to fuck me––hard.”

  I could count on one hand the times in my life I’d used that word. My heart sped up, drumming inside my chest like it wanted to be free of my ribcage. His eyes narrowed as he examined the degree of my intent.

  “No.”

  As simple as that, he had shut me down. Then he leaned in for a gentle kiss. Anger exploded within me. I pushed him off and slapped him across the face hard enough that the sound echoed in the room.

  To call his expression startled wouldn’t even begin to do it justice. Blood surged up his neck and over his face, the throbbing vein at his temple looked like it would burst any moment, his jaw so tight it could’ve pulverized his molars.

  “What the fuck!” he shouted.

  I struck him in the chest, and his eyes narrowed. When I tried that again, he caught my arms and pinned them over my head to the bed. With feline stealth he pounced, his powerful body straddling mine, raised over me. I glanced down and found him startlingly erect. He was so hard it was almost touched his stomach. When my gaze lifted to his, there was a lewd smile on my face. This only fed his anger. Complete consternation overtook his expression.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “I’m sick and tired of you treating me like I’m something breakable! I can’t stand it another second!”

  His grip on my wrists tightened as I fought him––tight enough for it to be painful. “Stop fighting me. I don’t want to hurt you,” he growled.

  “You can’t hurt me, you dolt!” Apparently I was making up for lost time because I didn’t fight the impulse to call him every name in the book. “How many bloody times do I have to tell you that!”

  His eyes became two golden slits. His expression darkened to the point that it made me pause. Once unleashed, the fury took over. He looked like that full sized tiger I hadn’t seen in a long time.

  “You know what––sometimes I do want to hurt you.” Raspy and low, his voice was positively primitive. “I want to dig inside of you, and tear you up just for existing––for making me love you!” Crouched low, his hips were pinned to mine. His erection pressed uncomfortably into my abdomen. “I want to get into your molecules and become part of your DNA. I want to be as vital to you as you are to me.” Burning through my veins, a flush of intense heat traveled to the crease between my thighs. “You’re pissed because I treat you like you’re precious? You ARE precious to me! Fuck! As precious as my own heart––it’s self fucking preservation!!” he shouted, inches from my face.

  I broke one wrist free of his hold, and snatched his hair in a punishing grip. My lips crashed into his. He gave back in equal measure. We devoured each other. Squeezing, stroking, pushing and pulling. I squirmed until he was perfectly positioned over the apex at my thighs, and rubbed against him. Neither one of us held back. The friction turned into sparks of pleasure. I erupted instantly, screaming out his name.

  His breathing was beyond harsh, the tendrils of his control visibly snapping. On a heavy exhale, he shifted and with a powerful thrust, buried himself to the hilt. The hard impact of our hipbones made me sigh in relief.

  We weren’t gentle or considerate. Our bodies slammed into each other without thought to pleasure or pain, without any sense of vanity. It was sweaty and coarse and starkly beautiful.

  In the heat of the moment my short nails left a scarlet trail on his lower back and buttocks. Whispering words of encouragement in his ear, I urged him on until he turned wild, shoving me over the edge of a second orgasm forcefully. I came so hard spots floated in my eyes. And as I fell back to earth, a river of tears ran down the sides of my eyes and soaked the pillow, an overwhelming sense of relief unlocking the surfeit of emotion that had been trapped behind that steel door.

  A moment later he reared up and found his own release. His face crumpled while his eyes remained open, staring into mine as he emptied himself inside of me…emptying the hurt I had inflicted, the distrust, the fear.

  The look on his face eased all my concerns. The full weight of him collapsed on top of me. I wrapped my legs and arms around him and held him close, soaking in the sensation as if it was the first time. After weeks of dancing carefully around each other, something fell back into place. We were us again. We had somehow found our way back to each other––no piece left behind.

  “You are––” I whispered in his ear, my voice cracking. “Now and forever.”

  “What?” he murmured in a vulnerable, almost inaudible voice. The vibration on the delicate skin of my throat made me shiver and tighten my hold on him.

  “Vital to me.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The road was ridiculously narrow and treacherous, one lane in each direction. Hugging the mountainside, it snaked up higher and higher with no end in sight. I tried to keep my focus straight ahead, and not on the passenger side window that overlooked the steeply plummeting cliff. Every so often, I checked the rear view mirror to see how the large SUV with the security team was faring. They hadn’t driven over the side yet so that was good.

  “Are you going to white knuckle it all the way to the top?” The amusement in Sebastian’s voice got my attention.

  “This better be worth whatever it is you have planned.”

  “I think so,” he crooned. With his eyes concealed by silver Oliver People aviator glasses and thankfully fixed on the task at hand, I couldn’t get a better read on him. The small curve of his lips remained though. He seemed happy––that’s all that real
ly mattered to me.

  We made love several more times the night prior. Never as fiercely, or with the same savagery of the first time, however, it still felt like he had broken loose of whatever it was that was holding him back. He was present in every kiss, every touch.

  Needless to say, I woke up battered and bruised. When he saw me crawling to the bathroom hunched over, he raised an eyebrow. “I know I asked for it,” I grumbled with a smile on my face. I turned on the shower as hot as possible, and let it pummel my muscles for ten minutes until he joined me and soothed all the aches away. Afterwards, we took the tender into Porto Cervo, the main port of northern Sardinia. And when I say port, I mean only megayachts allowed. Originally developed by the Aga Khan, it’s now legendary as the playground of kings.

  The top of the mountain was a flat, cleared parcel of land, deserted except for a small white church no larger than a cottage. My senses feasted on the breathtaking view. There was so much to take in my eyes didn’t know where to land first. The bleached stucco highlighted the exquisite glass windows stained in primary colors. Overlooking the Mediterranean, it sat precariously at the edge of the cliff, lording over everything below.

  Beguiled, I stepped out of the car and walked over to it. I wondered if they still held services at the church, or whether it was a historical landmark. A tug on the handled revealed that the doors were locked. In a daze, I walked around the side of the small building until I reached the edge of the cliff, standing as close to it as I could without getting vertigo.

  The strong Sardinian wind blew under my white, cotton sundress, ballooning it up, and whipped my short hair around––now a razor sharp, chin length bob since Sebastian insisted on a hairdresser coming aboard before we sailed from Cap Ferrat.

  “Was it worth it?” Sebastian’s raspy voice called out from behind me.

  Glancing over my shoulder, I found him a few paces away, leaning on his cane––something I had insisted on. Now I was glad I had; the virgin, rocky terrain was a serious hazard to his knee. One hand was casually stuffed in his beige, linen pants while a slightly mischievous smile graced his face. The breeze blew his long hair in every direction until he tucked it behind his ear.

  “Every tired step, every lonely, sleepless night, every day I went without food––you are worth every minute of it.”

  The amusement dropped off his face, his expression solemn all of a sudden. I knew what that meant. I knew he wanted to wipe away every bad thing that had ever happened to me––but I didn’t. In hindsight, I could admit that it made this moment all the sweeter.

  His soft eyes caressed mine. “That’s not what I––”

  “I know what you meant,” interrupting him, I clarified. My eyes returned to the horizon. At this height, I could see the curvature of the earth, the sea a convex mirror reflecting dapples of sunlight that looked like the scales of a fish. Everything seemed calm, peaceful from this vantage point.

  He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me back into the safe harbor of his body. The cane fell away with a thump. He placed a string of kisses on the side of my neck before his chin came to rest on my shoulder.

  I don’t know how long we stood together like that. Apart from the world. In a bubble where only the two of us existed. Away from responsibilities and expectations. Away from all the reasons that two people from completely different worlds could never make it as a couple in this one. I could’ve stayed like that forever.

  “Run away with me,” I murmured.

  I felt his smile on the sensitive skin of my neck. “Where would we go?”

  “We could live on that tiny island over there,” I said, pointing to a rocky outcropping just off shore. “You could fish, and I’ll make a fire and cook it.”

  “You know how to make fire?”

  A beat later, I answered in a sullen voice, “No.”

  “What about water?” he said chuckling. The small island had no trees, which meant no leaves––ergo nothing to collect rainwater.

  “Crap,” I grumbled, defeated by his brilliant logic. “We’re going to have to swim back to civilization. And since I’m not a very good swimmer, you’ll have to tow me in.”

  He turned me to face him. His eyes traveled from my eyes to my mouth, studying me with an intensity and seriousness that said it was important he remember this moment…that it might be the last time. The amusement dropped right off my face, a twinge of panic parking itself in my gut. When I reached up to cup his face, his eyes fluttered shut, as if he was summoning courage for what was to come next.

  “What’s wrong?” I said, the worry making me speak more harshly that I intended.

  “I love you, Vera.” I rushed to return the sentiment, but he stopped me with an sweet close mouthed kiss, whatever I was about to say banished by the touch of his lips. Pulling away far enough to peer into my eyes again, he said in a gravelly, anxious murmur, “I can’t get down on bended knee, but I am throwin’ myself at your feet. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

  My eyes instantly began to water, tears sliding down my face unimpeded. So much for not being a crier. Then again, everything I knew to be true had been turned upside down the day I’d met this man…this incredibly wonderful man. There were a million reasons it was a bad idea for him to bind himself legally to me. However, there was one that trumped all the rest. Was it enough to sustain a lifetime together? The cynic in me scoffed at the notion. And yet the disappointed romantic in me was reminded that I had left disappointment by the wayside the minute he walked into my life.

  I linked my hands behind his neck, love and hope undoubtedly living openly in my eyes, and jumped into the unknown. “I would be honored to be your wife.”

  I knew the moment my words hit their mark and sunk in, when he allowed himself to believe them. His face split in a blinding white grin that he only brought out on very special occasions. I would’ve done anything for one of those smiles.

  He crushed me to his chest and dropped kisses on my mouth, my temple, my nose in a frenzy of unbridled joy. Lost in the moment, I giggled like a teenager, the sound fading as a strong gust of wind carried it away.

  A wild glint sparked in his whisky colored eyes. “When do you want to get married? Tomorrow?”

  “What?” I shouted, shocked back to reality.

  “We can fly to Venice and do it there,” he added quickly, his expression eager. It was then that I realized he was serious. Questions were thrown at me in such rapid-fire succession that I only caught was every other word.

  Church?

  Fly everybody in?

  Just us?

  “Sebastian––” I said, interrupting.

  Not registering my prompt, he continued full steam ahead. “The jet is waiting for us at the airport. We could do it today if you want?”

  “What?!” I kept repeating like an idiot. He did that to me––often.

  “Shit, I almost forgot,” he said, digging into his pants pocket.

  I could no longer blink, my eyebrows as high as my hairline. A deep, blue egg sat in the middle of his wide palm. A shade between cornflower and electric blue, the stone glowed, pulsed with life as if lit from within.

  “It’s a Kashmir sapphire, rare, one of the first mined by R.V. Gaines in the 1940’s.”

  I barely heard him I was so mesmerized by it. Cautiously, I picked up the ring. The stone was set in a very delicate platinum and diamond band that only complimented the audacity of the gem. Turning it left and right, I watched it catch the light and reflect it back like velvet nap.

  “It’s said that sapphires are a guide for travelers and seekers.” His eyes were downcast, his brow furrowing thoughtfully. He slipped the ring on my fourth finger. It fit perfectly. I wasn’t surprised he knew my size, Sebastian had always expended more energy on me than I was comfortable with. I held my hand up. The oval stone almost covered the entire length of skin between my knuckle and the base of my finger.

  “I saw it and thought of you…
my traveler.” He raked my hair back and held my face tenderly. “Unpack your bags and stay a while,” he whispered, his lips hovering over mine. “Stay with me.”

  I’m the one that hurried to close the distance between us, kissing him with everything I had. Not for the ring, although it was beautiful, or the magnificent location, very romantic. But because of who he was––my lover, my friend, my conscience, my heart––so bravely baring his soul. My world began and ended with him.

  To this day, I know less about the magic that causes two people to fall in love than I do about quantum physics. Such mysterious alchemy. But what I knew to be true from that moment on was absolute. Regardless of time and distance, we would always find a way back to each other.

  The next day, I was on the deck of the boat, reading while Sebastian was busy videoconferencing the office, when one of the security guards hired by Ben handed me a heavy, manila envelope.

  “Mr. Horn is below deck,” I informed him. He shook his head, and said the envelope had been expressed from Geneva for me. My stomach churned nervously as I opened it and gingerly removed the stack of official looking papers. A typed letter from Mr. David Bernard, Esq. was clipped to the front.

  Dear Vera,

  Hope this letter finds you well. Let me begin by offering my congratulations on your engagement. With a conflicted heart, I write this letter in an appeal for your help. Please don’t take this as a slight on your intentions regarding Sebastian, however, for the sake of the bank and the integrity of Sebastian’s position, it would be best if you would sign the papers I have enclosed. I’ll spare you the legalese. It’s a binding contract stating that, in the event of a divorce, you have no claim on the bank. In the event of his death, you will receive a small portion of his inheritance, the rest will go to The Horn Foundation.

  Without it, I’m afraid it will seriously complicate bank business and compromise Sebastian’s standing with the clients. You should know that I have discussed this with Sebastian and have met with complete and utter resistance. I hope you prove more reasonable.