Torn (Torn Series, Book 1)

by Melody Anne

  I felt the smallest stirring of relief, but not nearly as much as I should feel at knowing my husband wasn’t cheating on me. I was more scared about how much I didn’t care. Was our marriage over in my mind? Had I already let him go? I didn’t think so. I should have talked to Audrey about this, but once again, I didn’t.

  It wasn’t until much later when I was home alone that I realized all of those restaurants and coffee shops and meeting places Mason was telling me he was at were located on the bottom floor.

  Why had he needed to use the stairs?

  Chapter Thirty

  Now

  It’s about three minutes to five when my phone rings. I smile when I see it’s Audrey calling. We hadn’t talked for long stretches at a time over the last few years, and now we’re chatting every day. True friendship really does last through the ages.

  “Good evening,” I answer as I close my computer and gather my purse. “It’s Friday and this place is a ghost town.”

  Audrey laughs. “Life’s too short to hang out at work late on a Friday night,” she assures me. “And I scored tickets to one of the hottest clubs in Portland.” She’s practically giddy.

  “How’d you manage that?”

  “I’m charming,” she says with a laugh. “I’ll be at your place at nine on the dot so be ready to party.”

  “I don’t know, Audrey. It’s been a long week. I’m not sure I’ll last very long.” I hate disappointing her but the club scene isn’t my favorite weekend activity. Maybe when I was in my early twenties, but . . .

  “No excuses. I’ll be there so look hot.” I try to form a reply when the line goes dead. I laugh. It looks as if I’m going to the club.

  I’m excited as I get ready. Mason is home working in the studio and I tell him what I’m doing. I even invite him to come along, though I prefer a night out with just my girl. He barely acknowledges me as he gazes at his painting, saying he has to finish his work and I should have fun.

  I sigh and go into the bedroom. I find the perfect red dress, one I haven’t worn in forever. I nervously pull it out, hoping it fits. Surprisingly, it not only fits, but looks better than it ever did before. This might be a great night.

  I redo my makeup, going from a work look to a night-on-the-town appearance, darkening my eyes and painting my lips a bold red. I smile as I gaze at my reflection. With thirty minutes to spare, I go into the kitchen and make a sandwich. Carbs are good if I’m going to consume alcohol.

  Audrey arrives a few minutes before nine, looking stunning in her black mini-skirt and sparkling top. Her blonde curls are up in a haphazard bun that appears as if she’s just thrown it on top of her head, but it probably took her an hour to do.

  “You’re stunning,” I tell her.

  She stares at me, a gleam in her eyes. I shift on my feet, wondering what’s wrong.

  “What?” I finally ask. “Do I need to change?”

  Audrey laughs and gives me a tight squeeze. “You don’t need to change a damn thing. You’re stunning.” She gasps, pushes away, and really looks at me. “I don’t know how your husband willingly lets you out of the house looking this good.” She looks back toward Mason’s studio and rolls her eyes.

  “I don’t think he’s noticed me in a long time.” I’m not sad. I’m continuously numb, as if I’ve stopped caring.

  “Well, we’re wasting time,” she says.

  Outside at the curb a black sedan waits. Audrey planned our night well. Neither of us has to drive. Downtown Portland is never fun to navigate, but it sucks even more to be a designated driver when you’re trying to let go of the week and have a good time.

  We find the club, which is one neither of us has been to before. It’s far more upscale than most of the places we’ve attended, with low lighting, crystal chandeliers, and soulful music instead of the constant pounding of club mixes. I instantly feel better about our night.

  The clientele is a bit older. Certainly no one needs walkers to get around, but it isn’t a bunch of college kids looking to make as many mistakes as humanly possible. It’s a place I won’t mind returning to, though I bet it isn’t easy to score tickets.

  Audrey and I share a few drinks, and she fills me in on her love life. The music switches back and forth from fun dance mixes that aren’t so loud our eardrums will burst, to slow, sexy tunes that have people falling into each other’s arms.

  After half an hour of watching, we’re ready to dance. We leave our purses at a valet station and move to the floor. It doesn’t take long for a couple of men to approach. Audrey clings to one, giving him her most sultry smile, and he looks as if he’s just won the lottery.

  The other guy appears nice enough, and there’s no harm in dancing. I try to stay close to Audrey, but quickly get lost on the dance floor, moving to the music and enjoying myself. It’s warm, but not so overwhelming I’m going to melt.

  A slow song comes on and I freeze. The man I was appropriately dancing with gets a gleam in his eyes I don’t like. He moves in closer and tries to put an arm around me. I don’t want him to. I also don’t want to make a scene.

  Before he can pull me against him, he stumbles back and I turn, my body freezing. Kaden is standing there, easily towering over the other man I was dancing with. Kaden is dressed in dark slacks molding his thighs. He wears a casual button-down blue shirt that looks devastating on him. I can’t help but notice how handsome he is, or how I react to him. Time freezes as we gaze at each other. The other man is instantly forgotten. Everyone else is gone from my mind.

  “This dance is taken,” Kaden says.

  The other man, who’s name I never learned, looks as if he’s going to protest. But Kaden just stares at him, and the man immediately backs off. I’m grateful.

  Kaden pulls me into his arms, his hands resting on my lower back. I don’t hesitate to be in his embrace. I don’t feel guilt. I only feel pleasure. It feels good to be pressed against him.

  I sway with him as he dances for a few wonderful moments. My eyes close as I lean my face against his hard chest. There’s so much about this man that’s irresistible. I want to get lost in him. That’s exactly what I do as his hands slowly move along my back.

  But then an idea pops into my head and I lean back.

  “Are you following me?” I ask. I’m not exactly sure how I’ll feel if he is.

  He laughs. It’s such a strange sound coming from him. I realize I never hear joy in his tone. It seems foreign. I wait for his reply.

  “I wouldn’t be against trailing after you,” he says. My eyes narrow. He chuckles again, the sound better than music. “My friend owns this place, and he finally talked me into stopping by for a visit. I haven’t seen him in a long time. We were sitting upstairs when I noticed your red dress — you’re incredibly sexy red dress. I figured fate is my friend tonight.”

  The gleam in his eyes is dark and sultry and nearly impossible to resist. I don’t want to keep resisting. I can’t speak as he looks down at me, his eyes consuming me whole. My body aches. I need to be wanted.

  “Miranda . . .” he says in a low, sexy whisper. My heart thumps. My fingers tighten on the back of his neck.

  He pushes against my lower back and I feel his hardness pressing against me. He’s turned on and not afraid for me to know it. There’s no doubt I’m just as worked up as he is. All it takes is one sight of him, one simple touch of his hands, one look. He’s breaking down my defenses. I’m becoming his.

  He moves his head. He’s going to kiss me. I meet him halfway. I don’t want to stop it this time. I need to taste him. His tongue slips into my mouth and our flavors mix. Mint and fire. It’s perfect. My arms tighten around him. I forget where we are. I don’t care if anyone notices us.

  “Let’s go somewhere,” he says after a few minutes. One of his hands slips down my butt and lower to the hem of my short dress. His fingers slip up the back of my thigh
and I feel like I’m going to burst.

  His mouth trails down my jaw and over my neck; his wicked tongue dances on my skin. I can’t breathe. I don’t stop him. Audrey is close but I have no idea if she’s watching, if she even notices me. She’s been pretty entranced by the guy she’s dancing with.

  “Come home with me, Miranda. Let’s stop torturing ourselves,” he says, his mouth circling my ear, his tongue tracing the edges. I want to say yes. I want to quit fighting my feelings. I want him. I don’t care how wrong it is.

  His hand slides higher, and his fingers trace the edges of my thong. I tremble in his arms as I press my face against his shoulder. My head turns and I inhale. I can’t resist tasting him. My mouth opens and I lick his neck.

  His moan is better than any music I’ve listened to. I melt. I cave to my desire. If we stay this way another few seconds I’ll allow him to pull me into a dark corner and take me right here in his friend’s club — damn the consequences.

  Someone bumps into us on the crowded floor. It’s dark, a place meant to hide secrets. But the jostling is just what I need to come out of the fog Kaden has me in. I pull back, mesmerized by the dark desire burning in Kaden’s eyes.

  He gazes at my face; his expression changes from desire to resignation. His hand leaves my backside and trails up my body then cups my face.

  “I don’t do relationships, but I’m obsessed with you,” he says, the words filled with awe. “I’m beginning to think there’s nothing I won’t do for you.”

  These aren’t the words that have me losing my breath, it’s the shock in his tone, the utter awe. I haven’t ever felt so wanted, so needed.

  “Kaden . . .” I breathe his name like a plea. Am I about to ask him to take me home? I think so.

  “Time to go.”

  It takes a few seconds to realize Audrey’s voice breaks in on our intimate moment. I slowly turn and look at her smiling face.

  “Sorry to interrupt, darling, but the jackass I was dancing with made a few crude suggestions that utterly ruined the mood, and there’s no way I’m walking out of here alone.” She turns and gives Kaden an assessing look before holding out her hand. “I’m Audrey. You must be Kaden.”

  Kaden takes the moment in stride. He reluctantly lets me go. “Do I need to take care of someone?” he asks as he glances behind Audrey. There’s so much power in his voice that it sends another shiver through me.

  “No. I’m good. But you can walk us out,” Audrey says. “I have a car waiting.”

  Kaden sighs, finally taking Audrey’s hand. It’s more than obvious tonight isn’t going to end where he hoped it would. It’s for the best.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Audrey. I’d be more than happy to walk you out.”

  She gives him a brilliant smile, and I look at both their faces. She’s available. She’s beautiful. It makes more sense for him to pursue her. That fills me with a sense of dread. I have no doubt Audrey wouldn’t accept his offer, but if he goes for her, it will hurt me. I hate that it will.

  He shows nothing more than a polite interest in her. I hate how much I like that. Men tend to fall at Audrey’s feet. She’s unique, beautiful and like a unicorn — she’s mythical and uncatchable.

  Kaden walks us outside, holding an arm for each of us. The crowd seems to part as we exit the dance floor, then gather our things from the valet.

  He doesn’t kiss me when we get outside, but the look he gives me as he helps me inside the waiting car is one that will haunt my dreams. It’s full of hunger, full of regret.

  I’m sure I look exactly the same. I ache, and I have a feeling there’s only one way this desire will be sated.

  Kaden Alexander.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Then

  I wasn’t going to celebrate my degree. I was too old at twenty-nine for a graduation ceremony. Most of the college grads were twenty-two. I was definitely behind the rest of the students.

  But Audrey and my father both insisted on attending the ceremony, saying it was a huge accomplishment and needed to be celebrated. So there I was standing in my cap and gown, my nerves raw. Portland State was a huge school and there were thousands of graduates. That helped. It wasn’t as if all of the attention was focused on me.

  Some bigwig business guy who was fairly new to the city was giving a speech. Awards were handed out, and the students talked about interviews they were called for and the next steps in their lives.

  None of that mattered to me. What did matter was I’d done something I didn’t think I could do. I was proud of myself. I didn’t feel the need to be on display in order to celebrate. But I was there anyway. I was there because of the people I loved.

  But I couldn’t find my family in the huge crowd. Of course not. The hall was loaded to the brim. The noise was deafening. The music began and I joined the line of graduates and made the long walk to the stage, following other students to my seat.

  The noise and cheers from the crowd didn’t die down until we were all seated. Then the dean stood up and gave a speech I’d never remember. I don’t know why I was so nervous. Maybe it was because I knew my life was changing. I could feel a shift in the air around me. It was just one more day in a slew of many days. It was just a ceremony to show we’d survived a voluntary extra four years of school. But still . . . something was different.

  The dean announced the guest speaker and I turned, not really interested. But then I saw him and my heart sped up. My entire body stiffened as I watched him walk onto the stage with total confidence. I’d seen men walk like that before, I’d seen women accomplish the power strut as well. But none of them mesmerized me like this man.

  He was stunning . . . but so were many other people. His good looks weren’t what had me holding my breath. There were plenty of tall, dark and handsome men in the world. There were men with charisma and talent, with power and authority. But this man seemed to have all of that and more. It was obvious he knew who he was and he didn’t care what anyone else thought of him.

  He paused before he began his speech, and then his words came out. They were spoken in a perfect tone, with authority and security. The tone of his voice was mesmerizing. It wasn’t that I was able to pay attention to what he was saying — something about being what we were meant to be, and the world was in the palms of our hands. It wasn’t the words he spoke, though I was sure they were great. It was the way he spoke them.

  I felt guilty for how quickly I had fallen under this stranger’s spell. I looked around and noticed the other students’ faces. They were as enchanted as I was. Their eyes didn’t leave the man. He turned several times, looking out over the vast number of students.

  At one point his eyes stopped on me, as if he paused, and his gaze seared right into me, branding me, marking my soul. But it was only for the briefest of seconds and then he was turning back to the audience, finishing his speech.

  I felt as if I’d been hit by a solar flare. My heart thundered and I had difficulty catching my breath. He must have told us to rise, because everyone around me stood. Lines formed as our names were called. The class moved quickly as each student walked up, accepting their diploma. I couldn’t think so I simply followed the person in front of me, hoping I wouldn’t trip and make a fool of myself.

  I moved forward, realizing the man was more magnetic the closer I came to him. My heart thundered, my body tingled. It was strange to have this reaction. I’d never reacted like that before — not to anyone but Mason. And even with my husband I couldn’t remember having the visceral need that was overwhelming me.

  I was only two students away when he looked up, almost as if we were connected. His crystal eyes met mine and I caught my breath, unable to exhale, unable to inhale.

  He turned away as he handed a diploma to the next student, shook her hand, then turned to the one in front of me. He did the same thing with her. Then it was my turn. I stepped u
p to him as someone handed me my diploma. I was nervous to shake hands with him, afraid of what it would feel like to touch him.

  But he held out his hand and I lifted my own. Our fingers connected and a zap rushed through me. I couldn’t form words. He said my name.

  “Miranda Dagwood,” he breathed, the sound almost a seduction. I opened my mouth to thank him. He was still gripping my fingers. Had we been standing there too long? What would my family think? What would my husband see?

  I heard my name shouted and a roar of clapping in the crowd. It seemed so far in the distance. I wanted to break the spell this stranger held over me, but I didn’t know how.

  “Kaden Alexander,” he said. I shook my head as I finally managed to tear my gaze from him. That was his name. The dean had said it. He’d said it before Kaden’s speech. But my brain wasn’t computing any of it.

  Somehow I managed to thank him. Then I moved on. I was caught up in the ceremony again. I refused to look his way. It had been a fluke, a misgiving from my raw nerves. I told myself I wouldn’t think of him again. There was no point in it. Thankfully by the time I moved away, the ceremony was breaking up. Kaden was gone. I laughed when I realized how foolish I’d acted, how ridiculous it was to have felt the things I thought I’d felt.

  I found my family and pushed the incident from my mind. I forgot about Kaden — or at least I pushed him so far back in my mind it was like forgetting about him. It had only been my nerves. It was the excitement of the ceremony. I’d read into something that hadn’t been there.

  Mason caught me in his arms and kissed me before handing me over to my dad who gave me a bear hug, telling me how proud he was of me, that the sky was the limit, and there was nothing I couldn’t do.

  We left the school. I took the first steps into my new life. I didn’t think anything of it when I got a job offer a week later . . . from the Alexander Corporation.