Terran's hatred for his egocentric bastard went back to a few years when Abigail had fallen ill, a malady of the heart that could've been repaired with the right funds. Working on a teacher's salary did not provide those funds, even with what little they'd saved in the bank, it hadn't been nearly enough. He was a proud man and the fact that he'd had to prostrate himself before his brother had been the most humiliating experience of his life.
But for his darling Abigail, Terran would've done anything. So he'd beseeched Charles to lend him the funds, provide him his team of brilliant physicians to cure his wife. Who knew that Charles would've denied him outright? Certainly not Terran as he'd stood there nearly sickened by his brother’s rejection. The reason he'd given was that he'd been aware of Terran's brief liaison with Sonya when they'd all been at Princeton.
Despite that the relationship occurred long before Charles and Sonya were wed, Charles had silently held that grudge against him. That act of vengeance had caused Abigail her life and Terran had been heartbroken and furious.
That fury remained to this day---ten years after the fact. Charles was a vile, despicable man who needed to be hung, drawn and quartered and Terran knew that it was only a matter a time before his heir did them all the favor. He had time---Nicholas would not disappoint him.
"No I'm fine...yeah...don't worry about me...yeah I'll see you tomorrow. Love you too. Give Sophie a kiss for me."
Nicholas watched Ellie hang up the phone, his smile unwavering as he took in flushed cheeks. He'd missed her blushes.
They'd finished eating a light snack of Camembert cheese, an assortment of small fruits and were now huddled in front of the fireplace in the master bedroom, cups of warm cider in their hands while absently basking in the warmth of the dancing fire. It was a moment of absolute bliss that Nicholas had to wonder if it was real. He'd had dreams like this, where everything was captured in perfection, their time together, beautiful. But then it would all shatter around him and he would be left standing with nothing but the consuming ache of missing her.
"I still can't believe you’re here. I'm afraid I'm going to open my eyes and it would've all been a dream." Ellie said softly, her thoughts echoing his own and he grinned.
"Have you become a mind reader in my absence?" At Ellie's puzzled expression, Nicholas elaborated. "I was just thinking the same thing."
"Great minds." Ellie took a sip from her cup; she'd forgotten how piercing those eyes could be.
"Great minds indeed." Nicholas lifted his hand and caressed her cheek. He drew near, gaze intent. "I've missed you, Ellie, more than you know." Voice a low rasp he stroked his thumb across her lips. Seated so close, there was no air between them. Their kiss, soft and lingering was a blow to his senses, the emotions of the past month charging through his core like electricity. The desire burning in Nicholas was hot enough to burn them both and he gathered Ellie close, his arm spanning her waist, he pulled her practically on his lap.
The kiss turned hard, forceful and demanding and Nicholas was gladdened to feel Ellie's fervent response. She parted her lips, inviting his tongue inside, eager to taste him after so long. Twining her arms around his neck, Ellie moaned as he snaked a hand beneath her sweater and cups cupped her breast through the lace bra. She broke the kiss, gasping for air as he pinched and rolled a nipple between his fingers; she bit her bottom lip to keep the moans at bay.
"Ellie," He whispered hotly against her cheek, heavy lidded, gaze perforating, she felt his passion growing ever longer against her stomach. He took off her sweater in a blink, leaving her partially naked to his roving eyes. "God, you're beautiful." And she believed him because his gaze was on fire, there was nothing in there but what he saw of her.
Ellie kissed him then before another breath could be taken and she's just as forceful as he'd been earlier, she wanted to feel him naked against her skin. Feel the warmth of his skin radiating red hot beneath her fingertips, feel the solidness of his frame on top of her as they both climbed the ridges of ecstasy long denied.
Ellie loved the sounds she elicited from him as she nibbled on his earlobe. On her knees between his parted legs she felt his hands in her hair, encouraging her to take her fill. With practiced patience she opened the buttons on his shirt, taking great pains in torturing them both.
Passion and desire were quick in deserting her however when she finally saw the dressing covering his midsection. With quivering hands she pushed the dress shirt off his broad shoulders. Grief and guilt pushed her back on her folded legs as she took in the damages caused. Looking at him, seeing the layers of gauzy material wrapped around Nicholas's abdomen slammed home the reality that her boyfriend had been shot, had been practically at death's door.
Nicholas had almost died.
It was real. The gravity of it all brought tears to Ellie's eyes. She'd almost lost him.
"Hey...Hey..." Nicholas settled a hand beneath her chin, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. "Ellie, baby, look at me." Watery hazel eyes focused on him, Ellie blinked and her tears fell, Nicholas kissed them away. "It's all right, Ellie, I'm fine now, it looks a lot worse than it is. I'm here with you, I promise you that." He kissed her nose and grinned. "I'm way too stubborn to die so easily and besides, I don't think Hell can hold me from coming back to you. Deal with it, babe, you're stuck with me."
"Damn." She quipped through her tears and smiled in spite of them when Nicholas threw his head back and laughed, warming her insides. He embraced her, pulling her to his lap he lowered his head and hungrily devoured her awaiting lips.
There really was no need for words after that. The soundtrack of their love, sweet, desperate and labored echoed off the bedroom walls as their bodies moved in unison, dancing a dance as old as time itself.
"Good morning."
Morning found Ellie huddled deep within the blankets, a delicious feeling of rightness ran through her as she drew back the sheets. The sight of Nicholas greeted her; partially naked he stood at the foot of the bed with a white towel around his hips. Ellie bit the inside of her cheek when he flashed a smile and raked a hand through his damp hair. God, she could get used to this, she thought silently, wrapping the bed sheet around herself as she attempted to rise.
"Morning." She tossed her legs over the bed and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear.
"You know," Nicholas began his voice light as he approached her. "I've seen just about every inch of you right?" he tilted his head slightly amused by her sudden bashfulness. "Every beauty mark is etched up here." He pointed at his head and laughed when Ellie flushed. He cupped her face, lowering his head, his eyes bore into hers. "You're like air to me, Ellie." He said quietly. "A necessity I can't do without."
His candor alarmed Ellie, the intensity in his eyes more than she could bear. Her heart hammering like thunder in her chest she felt completely overwhelmed. It frightened Ellie that he could need her so much. Want her with such desperation. "I love you too, Nicky." She whispered, eagerly accepting the kiss he offered.
"Do I get to shower too?" she asked moments later, slightly breathless.
"So long as I get to join you."
"But you just showered." She replied dubiously, jumping off the bed.
"Yes," he said slowly, effortlessly sweeping her off her feet, "but I'm a very dirty boy.
"Nicky!" Ellie squealed. "Put me down!" impervious to her demands, Nicholas marched them to the bathroom closing the door behind them, stifling Ellie's screams.
Life had been good for them. Their friendship, stuff of legends. Their destinies set in stone. Nicholas was the leader, the bronze God everyone could not help worship and he'd been more than happy in his shadow. Loving and basking in the glow of Nicholas's enigmatic charm and those devastatingly good looks.
Matt had believed in them, in their friendship. He'd believed that they would inherit their fathers' empires and go forth together to forge a new era in business. Merge both companies together and rise to the top as titans. He had grounded his faith in Nicholas, planned a
future for them that now seemed so dismally far out of reach, all because of the black bitch that poisoned Nicholas's mind against him.
Never had Matt regretted anything more than the afternoon he'd initiated the bet with Nicholas. Had he curtailed the urge to demoralize yet another one of John Edgar’s gullible pupils, he wouldn't have found himself in this situation. Leg broken, in agony and downright pissed off that his plan hadn't worked. With all the time and effort he'd spent on said plans one would think he'd at least come out the situation with something aside from broken bones and a slew of cops now on his ass with questions he'd chosen not to answer without his attorney present.
God, everything had gone to shit and Matt did not take a moment to rationalize his thoughts when he piled the blame on everyone else's doorsteps. Carlyle was a fucking moron and Matt knew he should've known better than to trust a junkie with anything but dealing. And Maddie, the poster child for self-deprecation had proved nothing more than a decent fuck. Then there was Nicholas. How could he possibly find himself attracted to that girl, when Matt was the one who'd waited...wanting...needing Nicholas to acknowledge him as more than just a friend?
He was the one deserving of Nicholas!
He was the one who loved him most! The one who'd stayed up with him clearing out his father's liquor cabinet when Nicholas's whore of a mother abandoned him. He'd been the one who'd talked Nicholas out of countless suicide attempts, had even gone so far as to stand on that bridge with him when Nicholas had wanted to jump. He, Matthew Bates, had been the one who had manipulated and plotted to ruin a girl's life just so Nicholas could acknowledge him. He loved him so damn much that his obsession ate away at him like a festering wound.
"I loved you first!" Matt roared, swiping his arm across the bedside table, dishes clattered to the floor. Nurses were quick in coming to his aid, anxious in discovering what had happened. One hastened to floor to pick up the broken dishes, while the other checked on his vitals and fussed with the sheets.
"Get the hell out of my room, I'm fine!" Matt shoved her away when a slip of her hand caused the searing pain from hours ago to return with vengeance.
"I'm sorry----"
"How many fucking times do I have to ask for a nurse who doesn't have the limited vocabulary of an immigrant? Learn some fucking English before talking to me! Until then, leave me the hell alone!" The Haitian nurse remained indifferent to Matt's harsh words, although she did exchange a knowing look with the other nurse.
Matthew Bates had made a name of himself since he'd been wheeled in from the OR. Every RN or NP in the West wing avoided his room like a plague, no one wanted to be scorched by his scathing words. Poor Mary-rose because of having to work around her son's school schedule had been stuck with the bastard. She would've gladly exchanged patients with any of the other nurses, only no one wanted the burden that was Matthew Bates.
Mary-rose had dealt with a lot in her life therefore handling someone like Matt was a cakewalk. It wasn't exactly her first time hearing such ignorant comments and it certainly wouldn't be her last. In her opinion Matt was another prime example of a spoiled rich white boy who believed he owned the world just because daddy made it so.
"How you feel, Sir? Can I get you something to drink? Apple juice, Ginger Ale?" Arsenic, she silently added, a blithe smile on her lips.
Matt scowled. "I want you to leave me alone and while you're at it, get my doctor. I'm ready to get out of here." Of course the police had asked that his doctor inform them when Matt was ready to be discharged, but Matt was sure his father had taken care of it.
Mary-rose forced a smile. "Okay, you try get some sleep." She left him then, the other nurse close at her heels.
It wasn't until they were completely out of the room before Matt fell back against the mounted pillows with a heavy sigh.
He needed to see Nicholas and make him understand. There was a distinct blueprint of their lives that they were meant to follow. It was predestined. Their fathers had followed the blueprint and their fathers before them. They had all sown their oats, married when time had called for it, produced heirs and gone on to conquer the business world and he and Nicholas were supposed to follow. Walk down the beaten path and follow their fathers to glory.
How had he allowed Nicholas to stray so far? Matt wondered morosely. Was Ellie's hold on him so strong that he could throw away years of friendship so easily? Jesus, was she that good of a lay?
Matt sighed and carded fingers through his hair. It wasn't lost on him how crazy he sounded at times, especially when his thoughts came to Nicholas. But he sincerely believed his obsession well founded. Nicholas---Nicholas was an amazing guy, who had all the potential of becoming a magnificent man. Matt wanted to be the one by his side when he reached his glory. But more than anything, Matt wanted to belong to Nicholas. He wanted it more than his next breath.
Transfixed and just a little overwhelmed, Ellie stared at the pixilated image of Nicholas's child blazoned across the cell phone screen. She was the tiniest thing, no larger than the distance between the tips of her fingers to the inside of Ellie’s elbow. Pink and sweet, with all digits and toes accounted for. She had the slightest hint of blue-green veins protruding from her rose tinted skin. She looked at peace in slumber, reminding Ellie of a porcelain doll with all that dark hair on her head.
After they'd eaten breakfast, Ellie had asked Nicholas to recount the events that had led him to this point. Afterwards, once he'd told her about his daughter and her precarious state, he'd taken out the cell phone to show Ellie her picture.
Reality set in quick for Ellie as she continued to stare at the image, her thoughts running ragged. She couldn't really describe the emotions going through her, only that she was afraid for this little girl and her father. Her gaze involuntarily found Nicholas and Ellie reached out to him, settling her hand on his forearm. When he looked at her, a vise clenched around Ellie's heart. The agonized expression on Nicholas's face like her own.
"I named her Isabella...Bella for short." He began with a smile that was far in reaching his silver eyes. "She’s the most perfect little thing, Ellie. I can't wait till you meet her. Sophie too. She’ll have a sister to play with.” His voice was hollow, haunted and Ellie couldn't fool herself into thinking the glitter in his eyes was anything but tears. She was in motion before she could think, her body finding a place between his parted legs.
"She’s perfect, Nicky." The overwhelming jolt she received upon hearing Nicholas say that Sophia would have a sister to play with was temporarily ignored as she focused solely on him. "And Sophie's going to love her."
"The minute she pulls through this, Elle, I want to go away. You, me, Soph and Bella, we'll all go far away from here, just the four of us." With head bowed, the top of Nicholas's head rested against Ellie's chest and lovingly she ran her fingers though his hair. Nicholas's agony palpable. It hurt to see him this way. "I---I promised her a kingdom, Ellie." He was trying so hard to keep the sorrow inside, the strength it took evident in every fiber of his being. Ellie felt it, pulled taut like a bowstring. "I'm…I'm scared..." Ellie gasped when he grabbed her hips, blunt finger nails digging into her naked skin. The pain became inconsequential the minute Nicholas buried his face against her chest and silently wept.
Sonya had never done anything for anyone without gaining something in return. She'd learned at a very young age that in order to survive in a male dominated world, she had to use her God given gifts to get what she wanted. One of the things she had wanted most of all was Charles Grayson.
Born the youngest daughter of a sexually abusive father and an alcoholic mother, Sonya had learned to survive the best way she knew how. Her beauty, paired with her hourglass figure had been her weapons and with them, she'd conquered movie screens. With enough brains and shrewdness to know who the elites were, she'd charmed those who would ultimately lead her to Charles.
Her wedding had been the stuff of fairytales. Her husband, not exactly Prince Charming, but his wealth had made up for that.
For some time, Sonya had lived with rose-tinted glasses, believing that everything was right with the world. The illusion shattered the very second she'd discovered the unsettling truth about her husband.
Their former housekeeper Greta Billson had lived in the pool house behind the Grayson mansion with her twelve year old son Joshua, if she remembered the name correctly. Joshua had been a shy little boy with a comely face far too pretty to belong to a boy. But belong to him it did.
He'd been incredibly bright with an affinity for books. Charles's home office had held an extensive plethora of books, floor to ceiling, wall to wall and Joshua had been drawn like a moth. Charles had discovered Joshua's passion and had exploited it to his own perverse pleasure. For every sexual favor Joshua performed on him, Charles was always sure to gift the young boy with a new book.
This had gone on for months before Greta discovered what was happening. She'd threatened to go the police but Charles, being who he was had bought her silence with an obscene amount of money and a few good threats added to the mix to keep them all quiet.
Mortified, absolutely horror stricken couldn't have come close in describing how Sonya had felt upon learning that she'd married the very thing she'd spent her entire life running away from. She'd rummaged through his things after that, when he'd go on ‘business' trips, she'd snuck into his office. The code to his private safe had not been easy to crack, but once she'd gained access, Sonya had seen the abundance of DVDs. There'd been so much, movies, pictures hundreds upon hundreds of them showcasing barely legal boys performing all types of sexual acts on Charles's and his business partners.
Beautiful Disaster (The Bet) Page 23