by Angel Payne
Now I considered unfriending them all. Wanted to. Just for one more night with a man who should be invisible to me.
It was getting late. After ten. Perfect excuse to wrap everything up, head to my room. I needed to be on my game tomorrow. I needed sleep.
You sleep like a baby in Evrest’s arms.
My eyes slid shut, fighting off that recall—and its accuracy. The man’s skin, the color of dark fire, was the same temperature, too. When he wrapped his endless arms and legs around me, it was heaven in more ways than one. That man, in his nude glory…Le Sigh, even capitalized, wasn’t enough.
I wondered if he was naked right now. Waiting for me like that, sprawled across the cloud bed, waiting for me to come to him, like a wolf in his den of decadence…
My cell came alive with IZ’s Over the Rainbow. Harry’s tune. This was the first time I greeted the ring with a grimace instead of a smile. I plastered on the latter, hoping to at least convey normalcy.
“Good evening, Mr. Dane.”
“Hey.”
I sat up straighter. His response might as well have been the f word and his rapid-fire delivery said he knew that. I cut the formalities. “Okay, what’s wrong?”
A thousand scenarios sprang in my head, from glitches with the dailies to problems with the studio. The guys with the Malibu views at Pinnacle had been happy with what we’d shot so far but everyone knew a key exec on a bad day could combust a film shoot faster than a mouse in an elephant house.
“Can you come down here, please?” His tone, tight and quiet, didn’t aid anything except the knot in my gut. He only used “please” when it was bad news.
“You still in the editing room?”
“Yes.”
“On my way.”
I grabbed the satchel with the majority of my files inside and headed to the editing room, located one floor below.
Eyebrow jump. Harry sat alone. His summons had me thinking this was an all-hands emergency. When I peered around and really confirmed it was just him and me, the Jack in my stomach planted a new magic bean of dread.
Great. Even tiramisu could turn to acid.
When he motioned for me to sit opposite him then swiveled around the monitor in front of him, acid became nausea.
The image on the screen contained four elements. The edge of an ornate desk. The open doorway to an office. Two people just inside that portal, staring at each other as if deciding to kiss or simply rip each other’s clothes off.
Evrest and me. From the moments right before Chianna and the kids entered his office. Faces inches apart. Eyes locked. His lips slightly open on those words that had resounded through my senses all night long.
I need to touch you again, Camellia.
I pressed my lips together. Silence was going to be my best ally right now.
If I had one at all.
Harry finally spoke, his voice flat to the point of scary. “An hour ago, a palais courier delivered a key to me from an anonymous source—with this on it from the security feed on the royal offices.”
Lips still pressed—but mind on fire. Anonymous source, my ass. All it took to fill that blank space was the recall of another conversation from this afternoon.
I saw the way you and Evrest were pressed together…the way he looked at you…I will not be subjected to it again…
I ducked my head. Yeah, it was damn near an instant admission of guilt, but the alternative wasn’t pretty. I couldn’t meet his glare, the centerpiece of an expression drenched in accusation.
But during that moment, when all I had to look at was the tension in my knuckles, another reaction struck. It shocked me so much, my head shot back up from its force.
Anger.
Not at Chianna, who’d officially moved into a new swamp of yuck because of this—but at Harry. My amiable ex. The guy who’d pleaded me to drop my whole life for this project. My friend.
Or so I’d assumed.
Realistically speaking, how much did he really know? Only what he saw on that monitor. My unauthorized visit to the south wing. He’d taken a lot of liberties with interpreting the rest. A lot. That turned his allegation into one thing alone. A low damn blow.
“Gee, Harry. I’m having trouble sifting through that mess you’re calling coy. What are you really trying to say, based on what you’re looking at from one shot off a security feed?”
He had the grace to look ashamed—for a second. “One shot is sometimes all it takes, Cam You’ve been on enough jobs with me to know that by now.”
“Really? That’s the angle you’re going with?”
“And what’s yours?” he volleyed. “Insulted and innocent? When I’m looking at evidence like this?”
“Evidence,” I echoed, folding my arms. “Damn Harry. So sorry. If I’d known the Spanish Inquisition was scheduled tonight, I would’ve brought my chains and shackles.”
He surged to his feet. Angled over me, handsome features now distorted. “I resent the crap out of that. Since I was three and understood what a movie was, I’ve devoted my whole damn life to the art of evoking emotions through a camera lens. So look again at that screen, Camellia Diana, and tell me I’m misinterpreting that come-fuck-me-now look you’re mooning at the King of Arcadia.”
My wrath hit splash-down—into an ocean of sadness. The weight pressed me back in the chair. “You aren’t even going to give me a chance to explain, are you?”
He stepped back, folding his arms. “Fine. Explain. Give me every chance to understand why you were in a part of the building I expressly forbade everyone from, jeopardizing our relations with the Arcadians in nearly the worst possible way. Don’t think I’m unaware of who interrupted your little ‘moment’ with Evrest, either. I wouldn’t be surprised if Chianna was my ‘anonymous’ source, too. Little piece of work. I’d thank her if I wasn’t so scared of her.”
Oh, Harry. You have no idea.
“So saying that, you’re still coming after me?”
He tilted his head, throwing a chunk of hair over his face. I used to call it his Flynn Rider sulk. Made me want to grow my hair fifty feet and drag him off for enchanted tower sex. Now, I just longed to smash him with a frying pan.
“Tell me that video’s doctored, that you weren’t really in Evrest Cimarron’s office today, and we’re golden.”
I torqued my wrists. Shit. How deep could I really lie to him and still get to sleep tonight?
You know what that answer should be, right?
After flipping my conscience off, I forced my head up again. Direct and strong. Just do this. “Look, I had to go over some logistics…about the king’s security detail…for tomorrow.” Tiny exhale. Technically, none of it was a lie. I’d simply left out pieces of the narrative for…continuity. “And I knew you had a head full of insanity, getting caught up on stuff before we left, so—”
“Whoa. Time out.” He shook his head. “Calling bullshit, honey. I’m the producer and director of this thing. It’s my job to be insane, Cam. You know that. You should have at least picked up the phone and—”
“And I’m the production manager of this thing!” I yanked my hands apart, turning them into fists. “It’s my damn job to make sure everything gets managed. I can’t do that if I’m worried about getting your permission for a hall pass at every turn, or if you’re jumping to conclusions about me before getting the facts straight—or hey, this is a crazy idea, even asking me about them.” I pushed to my feet but didn’t stop, letting my ire propel me toward him. “What happened to having each other’s back, Harry? To a friendship that survived even a relationship? To believing in each other, even when seeing all the facts says it’s something different?”
For a long moment, he only stared. I breathed easier. Just a little.
The moment didn’t last. He sat back down. Swung his gaze again at the monitor again. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
“I’m asking you to believe in me.”
“I want to, Cam, okay? But there’s a lot on the
line here. This really isn’t just about the damn movie.”
“I know.”
My voice almost cracked. And yeah, I did know…but I’d conveniently forgotten. No. Allowed myself to forget. No. That wasn’t the case, either. Forgetting implied I could remember things whenever Evrest held me…that there was a world beyond the bubble of us. But that space, carved by the universe for him and me…it was, like the stars it had been woven into, born from forever yet doomed to fall.
And sometimes, when too much was at stake, the plummet had to be nudged.
I turned, tears piercing, despite how “Ms. Saxon” cheered the fortitude of my decision. Blegh. Fortitude. Wasn’t that a word used by pale matrons, cooing at their arfy dogs over afternoon tea?
“Cam?”
“What?” I didn’t apologize for not hearing whatever he’d just said. We were both raw right now. And both at fault. His instinct about the screenshot was, after all, a hundred percent right. My guilt didn’t stop me from stealing another glance at the monitor. Being able to look at the gods’ eye view of Evrest and me…was mesmerizing. His head was tilted down, angled perfectly to the lift of mine. He gazed at me with passion, adoration, protection.
He was beautiful. And I was beautiful when I was with him.
The wrong place. The wrong lifetime.
The sooner we accepted it, the better.
“I was trying to apologize,” Harry said. “But obviously not doing a great job.”
“You’re fine,” I assured. “We’re fine. Everything’s fine.”
“You know how much I believe you when you babble, right?”
I didn’t laugh and knew he’d forgive me. I also didn’t waste any more time defending the answer. Or myself.
It was time to take the crappy medicine. It was going to taste like shit for a while but the alternative wasn’t acceptable. When medicine didn’t go down, shit got compromised. Vital organs failed.
A country got compromised.
I wasn’t going to do that to Arcadia
I wasn’t going to do that to Evrest.
The words had to be spoken before we left for Asuman.
*
Knowing Chianna had an insider—probably several—monitoring the south wing’s security feed, I took another scenic stroll past the amphitheater, behind the palm tree, and into the palais’ secret passageways. While stepping back through the darkness, I forced myself to envision the catacombs of Phantom of the Opera, not The Mummy, though exhaled in relief when the pungent damp of the tunnel was infused with Evrest’s spicy sandalwood.
Small fist pump. He was still here. Still waiting. I could sense him already in the changing energy in the air, the sprinting beat of my heart, the nearly audible rush of blood in my veins.
Fine. This was the kind of crap I’d always sworn not to believe in, especially when nothing like it had ever manifested between Harry and me. Moreover, I’d logged ten birthdays since shoveling cake past my braces at fourteen. A “bursting chest” and “tingly girl parts” weren’t validation for feeling “connected” to someone.
But the leap of my spirit, anticipating the way he’d see its every depth?
The race of my mind, wondering how he’d challenge it?
And the sweet turn of my heart, anticipating how he’d touch it…
How empty it would be without him in it.
Resigned breath. “Do it fast,” I ordered myself in a whisper. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. There’d be no way around the pain, only the length of time for the ow-ow-ow factor.
The second I entered the room, that assessment was revised.
Ow. Capital O.
The same shape my lips formed, taken over—again in this room—by awe.
No colored backlighting on the drapes tonight. Instead, their folds danced in the glow of at least two hundred lighted white candles, placed around the room in tiered holders. But that bronze radiance was just the support show for the golden splendor of the man in the middle of it all. Dear God, had I actually found a god? No other definition made sense. His broad, chiseled chest gleaming over those endless legs, clad only in loose black workout pants. The ends of his hair, tumbling loose and messy to his nape, were still a little damp. Damn. He must have been fresh off a workout, explaining the shiny rivulets on his shoulders and the rapid pumping of his lungs. Perhaps I was fresh off one, too. Seemed a perfect explanation for the sweat between my breasts—and the throbs that vibrated lower.
Pulses that got worse as he lifted a slow smile.
And worse again, as a song of sensual longing emanated from hidden speakers.
And turned to blatant torture as he stepped toward me.
“You came.”
Sawdust breath. A stumble backward, trying to keep the distance between us. Holy hell, he was magnificent. Glorious. And had done all this…for me.
This already sucked on so many levels.
“But I can’t stay.”
He shook his head. No. More like twitched it, as if I’d spoken words that made no sense.
“I’m—I’m sorry. I wanted to—had to—come tell you in person. Evrest, everything we’ve shared…this was all—” I stopped myself, banging fists on my thighs. “No. I can’t say it and I won’t. What we did…it wasn’t a mistake. This,”—I pointed between my chest and his—“isn’t wrong.”
“We are in agreement so far, sevette.” But the shadows in his eyes belied his forecast of my next words.
I dropped my head. Coward. It was true but I wouldn’t fight it. Couldn’t. Staying on my feet was a composure sucker all on its own.
I hated this. Every hard, wrenching second. I wanted to make his face darken for other reasons. And God help me, I longed to dive into that darkness with him. I craved visiting those sinful corners inside myself again…the wicked desires only he’d been able to illuminate…
“Timing.” There. I’d gotten it out. “It’s the timing that we got wrong, okay? If this were all happening in another century…hell, in another galaxy…” The strength was too good to last. Huge swallow. Keep going. You must. “Our paths simply shouldn’t have crossed each other.” Dear God, was I trembling? Pathetic. I’d dated Harry for eight months and not crumbled like this at the end. “We just need to face reality now. Get shit back on track and—”
The vehemence of his growl seized the rest of it from my throat.
His stomp forward, closing the distance between us, robbed the resilience in my limbs.
“How dare you,” he seethed.
“What?”
“How. Dare. You,”—he jerked me harder—“speak of our paths as if they were regrettable… disposable!”
“Ev…rest.” My lips parted but even his name was split by pain, impossible to ignore as he slammed our bodies together. “I—I can’t—” Think. Move. Function. Breathe.
“Three years. You have haunted my memories for three damn years, Camillia. So many times, even after my furtive Internet searches, I wondered about you. Had dreams about you. Ranted at the Creator about why He would not let you leave my mind…my fantasies.” A pained laugh left him. “I thought I was insane. Maybe I was.”
“Shit.” A sob, fighting past the barbed wire in my chest. Causing him this conflict…it was worse than I’d imagined. I looked down, wondering why my blood didn’t stain the floor. Wanting it to. “I’m—I’m—”
“You are here, Camillia. That is the right answer. You are here, and suddenly, the insanity makes sense. When I walked into the ballroom the night you all arrived—and saw you standing there—the girl who had not left me alone for three years…”
He swallowed hard, strangling his own words short.
Before clutching me even closer, and crashing our lips together.
The fury in his kiss matched every note of his words. There wasn’t a second to think, to hesitate, before he shoved his tongue in and wrapped it against mine, consuming my mouth in violent heat. It was a kiss with one intention alone—to bear the truth of what he snarled at me next
.
“This is not an accident, Camellia. Right here, right now, in this lifetime, we are not an accident.”
Pushing away wasn’t an option. He made sure of that with his eyes, his lips, his presence. His resolve cracked open mine. I adored him for it. Hated him for it.
“Wh-why are you forcing this?”
He clutched the back of my head. “And why are you fighting it?”
“I’m not supposed to touch you.”
“I know.”
“And you’re supposed to be touching—well—not me.”
“I know.”
Our chests were pressed hard now. I tilted my head back to meet his gaze. His eyes still held shadows, only they were different, thickening to the texture I craved so much. His muscles constricted around me. His jaw clenched into ridges of command.
Another hard swallow. But better this time. And worse.
Blissful, torqued tension.
Hot, desperate awakening.
“But you’re going to touch me, anyway.”
“Yes.” He stretched his fingers around my head to explore my jawline from behind. His scrapes, sweet but intense, spread warmth through my scalp…and new stings beneath my eyes. “And I am going to do it everywhere. Outside. Inside. As I have been dreaming of doing since I let you go this afternoon.”
Damn.
Damn.
I was a maelstrom, maddened but magnificent. The heat flowed through me, stealing my breath, crumbling my defenses. “I’ve been…thinking about you, too.” More ramparts crashed. Oh shit, I needed to touch him. My fingertips roamed the ridges of his abs, the planes of his chest, the muscled bole of his neck. I sighed, unable to hide my desperation from him. “Oh, God. I fought so hard not to.”
“No.” He tugged harder at my scalp. “No more fighting it, lightning.” The renewed plunge of his mouth was another heaven of searing demand. “Give up, sevette. Give in.”
“But—”
“Tomorrow. It is hours away.” More surges, made of pure fire now, as he licked and bit his way back to my ear. His hand skimmed down, beneath my jeans and underwear, forming his bare palm to my ass. “Our paths are still twined. And our reality is still only this. It can still be right. So right…”