“What about pizza?” he asked with just a hint of hesitation.
“Ooo…can we eat it in bed? I’ve always wanted to just be a little decadent and eat pizza in bed.” She let out a feminine giggle, covering her mouth with her hand before she went into a full-blown laugh. “Oh gosh! I’m sorry. How ridiculous did that sound? I mean, how is pizza in bed decadent?” And then she laughed again.
Her laughter was infectious and Hugh found himself hugging her to him as they both laughed uncontrollably. “It feels good to laugh with you,” he said. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the clock on the bedside table read nine-fifteen. “Let me call in our order so we can eat.” Releasing her, Hugh picked up the hotel phone and then looked over at Aubrey. “Any special topping requests?”
She shook her head. “I’m good with whatever you’re having.”
Hugh made the call but watched as Aubrey rose from the bed and walked across the room to get a robe from her closet. It was a shame she wanted to cover up. He was all for the decadent pizza-in-bed option—especially if it involved Aubrey naked. Once he placed their order with the kitchen, he rose and picked his pants up from the floor, pulling them on.
Slowly, he made his way across the room to where Aubrey was looking out on the small balcony with a view of one of the tropical gardens. Stepping in close, Hugh wrapped his arms around her from behind. “You okay?”
“I am,” she said and leaned back into him. “How long until the pizza gets here?”
“Thirty minutes. The chef is making it special for us so it takes a little longer.”
She looked over her shoulder at him. “I would have been fine ordering from a local pizza place. You didn’t need to make the chef go crazy. I don’t want to interrupt his time,” she said with just a hint of sass.
“Okay, I completely deserve that one,” he conceded.
“Yes, you do,” she said seriously, turning to face him. “I hate to bring up a topic that has the potential to ruin this night but—”
Hugh placed a finger over her lips. “I’m sorry. I was a complete jackass earlier and I know it.”
“Why? I just don’t understand.”
Lying to her or making excuses wasn’t an option. “I was jealous.”
Aubrey’s eyes went wide with disbelief. “Jealous? Of what?”
“Riley.”
She rolled her eyes. “Are you serious? That’s what put you in a mood?”
“The fact that you didn’t show up at my office started the whole thing. I was really looking forward to seeing you and…” He stopped and touched her cheek, then ran the pad of his thumb over her lips. “And kissing you again. I was thinking about it all day; it’s what got me through my morning. When you didn’t call and didn’t show up, at first I thought something was wrong. I was heading to your room when I found you by the pool with Riley.”
“Do you really think I’m the kind of woman who’d kiss you one night and then go after your brother the next day?”
“He’s one of the biggest rock stars in the world.”
“And I had no idea who he was!” she cried.
“That was last night,” he replied reasonably. “Don’t tell me you didn’t come back here and do a Google search on him.”
“I came back here and thought about you.”
Hugh studied her face and knew she wasn’t lying. Slowly, deliberately, he pulled her in close and rested his forehead against hers. “And what were you thinking?”
Aubrey purred. “I was wishing you had come up here with me and we’d spent the night making love.”
In a flash, Hugh scooped her up in his arms and strode back over to the bed. He dropped her down and reached for the sash on her robe.
“Hugh!” she cried. “What about dinner?”
“Don’t worry,” he said with a wink, “I promise we’ll be done before it arrives.”
* * *
The pizza was gone.
Most of the blankets were on the floor.
And Aubrey was beyond content.
Hugh’s hand was tracing lazy circles on her shoulder while her head rested on his chest. Yeah, life was good. Maybe even perfect. She sighed softly and placed a kiss on his chest.
“Are you full?” he asked. “Should we order dessert?”
She shook her head. “I have everything I need right here.”
They stayed like that in companionable silence for several long moments before Hugh spoke. “Can I ask you something?” Aubrey raised her head and nodded. “Do you need to rush back home after we get done at Hilton Head?”
She looked at him oddly and shook her head again. “No. Why?”
“What about your family? Do you need to check in with them? Or check on your place and pick up the mail?”
Aubrey pulled out of his arms and sat up beside him, pulling the sheet up to cover herself. “Everything is taken care of and I don’t need to check in with anyone. What’s this all about, Hugh?”
Sitting up straight, Hugh propped himself up on some pillows and raked a hand through his hair while he searched for the right words. “I guess I’m just wondering about your life. You’ve heard about my family and my business and you’ve met one of my brothers, but I don’t know about yours.”
Her eyes went a little wide. “That’s what you want to talk about right now? Families?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Like I said, I’m curious about you—your life, what you like or don’t like, your hobbies…”
Aubrey ran a hand through her hair and let out a sigh. “But…now?”
He shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”
“It’s kind of weird for post-sex conversation.”
“Is there a normal kind of post-sex conversation?” he asked with a smirk. “Are there rules?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “No. It’s just…okay, maybe there is. Normally, post-sex talk is ‘Was it good for you?’ or ‘Hey, do you want to do it again?’”
“And was it? Do you?” he teased and then laughed when she playfully smacked his arm.
“Now you’re just making fun of me,” she said with a pout as she reclined against her own pillows.
Hugh leaned over and placed a kiss on her forehead. “I’m not. I promise. I just want to get to know you.”
This time her sigh was a bit louder. “Okay. Fine. What do you want to know?” She wasn’t deliberately trying to be difficult, but there were so many other things she’d rather be doing than answering questions about her life.
Obviously her tone and lack of enthusiasm weren’t enough to deter Hugh. He placed an arm around her and tucked her in close to his side. “Tell me about your family,” he said softly.
“I’m an only child and my parents divorced when I was eighteen. They waited until the day after my high school graduation to tell me.”
“Wow. That had to come as quite a shock.”
She shrugged. “Not really. It was almost a relief. They never got along, barely spoke most of the time. Although why they felt the need to wait until that point in time, I’ll never understand.”
“I think a lot of people do that. They want to wait until their kids are grown. Maybe they felt you’d be able to handle it better.”
“Maybe. I don’t know. Honestly, I wish they had talked about it more, because I would have told them to give it up years ago.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well… It happens. I’m not the only kid whose parents divorced.”
“Are you close with them?”
“Who? My parents? Um…no.” When Hugh just stared at her, Aubrey knew she’d have to elaborate. “They were never the warm, fuzzy type. Not nurturers in any capacity. Basically, I’m a disappointment to them. Never measured up to their expectations.” It was impossible to hide the hurt and bitterness, but she hoped Hugh
would take the hint that this was a sore subject.
“Where did you go to college?”
“Meredith. All-girl school.” She looked at him and couldn’t help but laugh at the shocked look on his face. “It wasn’t so bad. It was local and I had a lot of friends there. I studied business and communications.” Then she shrugged. “And I graduated.”
“Any pets?”
She smiled sadly. “I had a dog once.”
“What kind?”
“A yellow Lab.” She sighed. “We didn’t keep him very long. My mother was allergic. I always wanted another one but…it just never happened.”
“What was his name?”
“Promise not to laugh.”
He crossed his fingers over his heart.
“Abercrombie.” She could tell he was trying very hard to stay serious.
“May I ask how you arrived at that name?”
“Honestly, I don’t remember.” She smiled at the image of her little puppy in her mind. “It just seemed to fit.” Then she shrugged. “He was from a litter of ten and I wanted him and two others, but my parents put their foot down.”
“Three puppies? Why would you do that to yourself?”
“One in each color—yellow, chocolate, and black. I’d have the complete set.”
“Okay then.” He shifted to get more comfortable. “Hobbies?”
Was he serious? Didn’t he realize this was the most unromantic way to recover from hours of making love? “Shopping.”
“For shoes, no doubt,” he teased. “Seriously, what do you enjoy doing that doesn’t involve the use of your MasterCard?”
“I enjoy swimming and tennis. I read an average of three books a week, and if I go to the movies, I want to laugh. Nothing serious. No dramas. No action flicks.”
“You mentioned dancing the other day. Do you still do it from time to time?”
She shook her head.
Hugh sat silently for a moment, resting his head on top of hers. Aubrey hoped the interview portion of the evening was over. She was just as curious about him as he was about her, but this wasn’t the time to get into it. She imagined long talks over dinners or on their drive up to Hilton Head. Right now she wouldn’t mind simply going to sleep.
Out of the corner of her eye, she looked up at him and yawned. Loudly. And hoped he’d take the hint.
“One more,” he said softly. Reaching out, he tugged the sheet down a bit and traced the scar near her heart. “Tell me about this.”
He spoke so quietly, his touch so soft and gentle that for the first time in her life, she didn’t mind talking about it.
“I had cancer as a teen.”
To his credit, Hugh didn’t speak. There were no obligatory apologies or gasps of shock. He simply held her, his head still resting on hers, waiting for her to share her story.
“I had been training in ballet since I was three. My parents were obsessive about it and it was the only time they really took an interest in me. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed it and I was good at it. At least, that’s what all my instructors told me.” She paused and did her best to push the bitterness aside.
“When I was twelve, I began to struggle. I couldn’t keep up. I was so tired, and there were times I would barely make it through my classes and practices. My parents accused me of being lazy, of not wanting it enough. My teachers would say the same thing. I began to think I was crazy. I mean… I was young, I was healthy, and—to my knowledge—nothing had changed.”
She waited a minute to see if he’d comment, but he didn’t. His hand was softly skimming up and down her arm and it felt…soothing. Comforting.
“There was a big recital coming up and there were going to be scouts there for several large ballet companies. My parents kept harping on me about the importance of being perfect for the show. When I told them I was doing my best and reminded them I was tired and didn’t feel quite like myself, they said I was trying to sabotage my career. I was twelve!” she cried with emotion. “I was a child and they were trying to make me plan my entire life at that point!”
Clearing her voice, she snuggled a little closer to Hugh. “Two days before the recital, I collapsed at rehearsal. Completely passed out. I was rushed by ambulance to the hospital and I remember hearing the doctors and nurses commenting that I was probably anorexic because I was so thin. It was a miracle one of the ER doctors on call that day happened to be familiar with childhood cancers. They ran bloodwork and did all kinds of tests, then they sat me and my parents down and said they were checking for leukemia.” She wiped away a stray tear, still remembering how numb she’d felt at hearing those words for the first time. But she refused to cry. Crying meant weakness. Another gift, compliments of her mother and father. “My parents never even looked at me. They sat there in silence for what seemed like forever, and suddenly my mother asked if it would still be all right for me to dance in the recital.”
Hugh stiffened beside her.
“They didn’t get it. They refused to understand the magnitude of what was happening. Once the diagnosis was confirmed, things happened so fast. I was in the hospital for weeks at a time and when I was home, I was completely isolated. I had private tutors and nurses who came in to take care of me.” She shook her head. “I wasn’t allowed to go back to school—even when the doctors said it was okay. It was as if they were afraid I’d contaminate the place.”
“Maybe they were worried the germs would harm you,” he said carefully.
“No. They told me no one would want me at school. That the other students shouldn’t have to worry about their health.” In her mind, Aubrey could still hear the disdain in their voices. “I reminded them no one can catch cancer, but they’d just went on with their business as if I hadn’t said a word. Then they left me in the care of those nurses and tutors while they went to Paris because they needed a break. Their words.”
A muttered curse under his breath was Hugh’s only response.
“It took three years for me to go into remission. The day we received the news, my mother called my ballet instructor and asked her to start working with me again. I was really excited about the possibility—I’d finally be allowed to socialize again and do something I enjoyed.”
“But…”
She gave a mirthless laugh. “By then, my body had started to change. The years away from the daily routines and exercises and practices left me out of shape. I no longer had the body of a dancer, and we were told it was too late for me to go back. My career as a dancer was over.” Her voice was completely devoid of emotion. “They never forgave me.”
Then she waited. It wasn’t often that Aubrey shared this much information about her life—it was too painful. When she did, she would receive pity, condolences, and maybe a bit of outrage on her behalf. She appreciated the effort, but it didn’t do much to help heal what was broken inside of her.
Slowly, Hugh laid her back down. He leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips, then traveled farther down to her throat and placed a kiss right on her port scar.
At his gentle touch, Aubrey let her tears fall freely. And Hugh was there to wipe them away.
* * *
The next day Hugh stepped back into his apartment with a huge smile on his face and a new outlook on life.
And he was whistling.
He took his shower, put on fresh clothes, and sat down at the dining room table with his tablet to go over his schedule for the day. It was their last day in Florida—they were scheduled to drive out in the morning for Hilton Head.
It was barely eight thirty and Hugh felt as if the day was already dragging. He and Aubrey had slept for only a few hours and when his alarm went off at six, the plan had been to order breakfast.
They’d made love instead.
The next time he’d looked at the clock, his OCD had refused to let him linger any longer, no matter how big
of a temptation Aubrey was. He’d kissed her good-bye and promised to see her for lunch.
He looked at his watch again and frowned. Damn day was going to last forever.
The plan for the day wasn’t particularly full. This resort had one of the best management staffs out of all of them, so his presence here wasn’t really needed. It just made him feel better to oversee things for a little while and keep everyone on their toes. He closed out of the calendar and went to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. While waiting for it to brew, his mind wandered to the previous night and a slow smile crept across his face.
It wasn’t just the sex fogging his brain—although it was amazing—it was all the things he’d learned about Aubrey. Cancer. He was still thrown by the revelation. He had a million questions he wanted to ask her, but knew it was a sensitive subject and didn’t want to overwhelm her. He eyed his tablet. Maybe he’d do a little research on his own just so he could have a conversation with her and know what to ask without sounding completely ignorant.
The image of her as a young girl, going through so much without the love and support of normal parents, filled him with rage. Hugh knew he was luckier than most—his parents had always put their children first no matter what. He couldn’t remember a time when they weren’t encouraging all of them in whatever endeavor they were involved in. He cursed the fact it wasn’t that way for Aubrey. No wonder she’d talked to her father the way she had the other night.
There was no way he was going to be able to function if he kept focusing on the negative. He needed to remember that, and be supportive of Aubrey no matter what. She’d dealt with negative and unsupportive people her entire life. All he wanted to do was take some of the hurt away.
He’d felt her tears last night—felt the moment when she finally let herself feel. He’d kissed them away and then made love to her slowly, tenderly. He’d wanted her to feel loved, cherished…like she was everything.
Because she was.
Grabbing his cup of coffee, he mentally smacked himself. “I’m practically ready to cry myself,” he muttered.
Walking back to the dining room table, he heard a door open and turned to see Riley coming out of his bedroom. His hair was completely disheveled and his eyes were mere slits. “Little early for you to be up, isn’t it?”
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