by Krista Lakes
The kitchen was dark. Everyone was in bed except for me. I couldn't sleep, but my brain refused to concentrate on work. I had worked since returning from the airport until Charlotte forced me to eat something. She was the one who had given me the wine. I had worked after dinner, but now that it was long past bed time, I couldn't work anymore.
My brain was just too full.
My phone chirped with an email update as I poured a large glass of the dark red liquid. While I didn't use my data or phone plan, the mansion had wifi. Dr. Verner sent me his hourly email updates, though now they were from my dad's hospital nurse and just read, Fast asleep or snoring softly. I would have to thank his nurse as one message had read: I came in to check his vitals and and he called me Jackie. Jackie is a lucky lady. At least I knew good people were taking care of him.
I swirled the wine around in the glass, watching it trickle back down with slow, long legs. I couldn't sit still, even in the warm kitchen, so I decided to explore the mansion on my own.
The wood floors were cool on my bare feet. The house felt different at night, like the paintings were waiting for me to turn my back so they could come alive. It wasn't creepy so much as I felt like I didn't belong. It didn't help that so many of them were overly lavish and displayed in garish frames that accentuated their worth rather than their beauty.
I walked up the stairs to the second floor, and banged my hip against a gilded table. I sighed and gazed down the second floor hallway at gilded frames and overly ornate furniture. Everything in this house was designed to proclaim wealth, but from what I had seen of Bastian and Charlotte, neither cared about flaunting their money. They should be living in something full of bamboo furniture and open windows. There was too much finery and not enough warmth for them here.
I turned and found myself standing in front of Bastian's study doors.
I was curious. What did it look like inside? Was it opulent and rich like the walls of the mansion, or warm and homey like the kitchen? I felt like if I could see how he decorated his living space, I would have some insight into him. I knew so little about him, but I wanted to know more with a desperation that surprised me.
I set my empty wine glass on an overly ornate hallway table and listened for any noise in the study. If I heard him inside, I could just knock and perhaps he would let me in. I rather liked the idea of being invited in.
Without thinking, I tried the door handle. It swung open on silent hinges and I stared after it with an open mouth. Standing in the hallway, I heard a loud thud come from inside, as if something heavy had been dropped.
I swallowed hard and justified going inside. What if he had fallen like my dad?
Just past the doors, I could hear the shower running and Bastian cursing at his shampoo bottle. I nearly giggled before catching myself. The wine was making me bold and careless, but it was still funny to hear him swear at the bottle.
The idea of Bastian wet and soapy, and totally naked, made my insides flutter and the space between my legs tighten. A naughty part of me wanted to go and take a peek, just a glimpse, but I pushed it down. I was already someplace I shouldn't be. No need to push it, no matter how much I wanted to see his muscles dripping with soap.
I knew I should leave, but I took a moment and looked around the office. It was a large room, as all the rooms in the mansion were, but it didn't feel overwhelming. Every light was on and the walls were painted a warm butter yellow that made it almost feel like daytime. A large, heavy wooden desk sat in the corner with a computer and a comfortable-looking leather chair. Nothing was antique or gilded in the entire room. Every piece of furniture was expensive only because it was well-made. He had chosen things that utilized function over form.
A big leather couch sat under the wide open window. The curtains billowed in the breeze off the ocean, and I could imagine laying on that couch and reading for hours. Looking closer, I realized that the blanket from this morning was draped on the arm. It had been him.
Smiling, I looked at the pictures on his wall. There was no artwork and for the most part, the walls were bare, but above his desk was a cork board filled with smiling people. Most of them were of him and Charlotte in various places around the world. The Great Wall of China, The Eiffel Tower, the Pyramids, Stonehenge, The Taj Mahal and dozens of others. He smiled in all of them.
In the center was a long picture with a row of men in dark suits all smiling and laughing with a beautiful bride at the end of the line. Looking closer, I recognized the woman as Emma Saunders, the wife of oil baron Jack Saunders. Faces popped out at me from Forbes magazine's most wealthy as I looked down the line. That must have been a crazy wedding.
Other than one small picture of him, Charlotte and a kind looking couple, there were no pictures of family or childhood. Every picture was college aged or above. I even spotted several of him with Leo and another man that must be Gabriel, but nothing that hinted at his life before starting his company.
Moving away from the wall, I saw one last picture. It was on his desk in a simple golden frame that couldn't have cost more than a couple of dollars. It was a picture of him and Charlotte, sitting on a boat. The sun was in his face but he was smiling just like he had the other morning, looking like he might burst into laughter at any moment. I reached out a finger to stroke his face, wishing I could see him like that.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” An angry growl came from behind me. I spun to see Bastian standing in the doorway to the bathroom. He was dripping wet with just a precarious towel wrapped around his waist. He was even more glorious than I had imagined.
That's when I realized the water had stopped.
He stepped forward and into the light of the room. Scars ravaged his body. Long gashes ran across his arms and chest before wrapping around his back to disappear beneath the towel. The scar on his cheek was just part of a larger series of scars covering his body. I could see now why he wore long sleeves and pants all the time.
Rage burned red in his gray-blue eyes. I couldn't look away from his body, not because of the scars, but because of the way his muscles tightened and flexed and how the towel hid almost nothing. Pecs to die for, six pack abs and a strong V that pointed to his towel all had me drooling.
“I... I... heard a thud... and...” I stammered, unable to take my eyes from the towel. The knot was loose and was about to fall apart at any moment.
I took a step back, running into his heavy desk. It hurt enough that I looked up from his towel and into his extremely angry face. He radiated a rage that I didn't know was possible in a human being. He had seemed so calm and in control that I barely recognized him. All thoughts of the towel disappeared at his rage.
“Get out.” His voice was thick with fury and his eyes flashed lightning. “GET OUT!”
I ran.
I didn't stop in the hallway. I didn't stop on the stairs. Even in the foyer, I could hear him cursing. The whole house vibrated with his anger and I ran out to the beach to try and escape it.
Tears stung at my eyes as my feet hit the sand. What had I done? Why didn't I just leave things well enough alone? He had one request of me, not to go in the study, and I had blatantly disregarded it. I was the worst kind of person and he had every right to be furious with me. Hell, I was furious with me.
I ran along the cold, wet sand, letting the full moon light my path. I followed the curve of the cove, up the hill to another beach until I finally came to a rock outcropping that I couldn't get past, at least not in bare feet. There I collapsed into one of the larger rocks, my calves aching and twitching like rubber bands. I gasped for breath, and not just from the running. Falling to my knees, I sobbed into the sand.
It was too much. All of it was just too much. All the aches, the worry, the tension, the hopeless dreams came tumbling down on me. Between my father, Chad's betrayal, the lack of direction in my life, and now the rage in Bastian's eyes, I just lost it. It was all just too much to bare.
I sat and cried into the night. It felt good t
o finally let it all out. I cried until I couldn't breathe and then I just gasped at the air like a fish out of water. Giant sobs racked my body, shuddering cries that ached down through my toes. But it was what I needed.
I wasn't sure how long I cried, but after a while, the tears dried and I stared out at the ocean. I was finally empty. I had held in my emotions for so long that they had overwhelmed me and now I didn't know what to do.
I heard footsteps behind me, but I didn't turn around. I knew who they belonged to. The steps paused and then came closer.
Bastian sat cautiously beside me, close enough that I could feel his presence but far enough away to give me distance. He stared out at the moonlit water for a moment before offering me a hanky. It was just a simple white cotton square of fabric, but it smelled like him. It was more than I deserved.
Holding on to his hanky, I held my breath for as long as I could before finally releasing it. My lungs ached and my cheeks were still wet.
“I'm sorry,” I said quietly. I didn't look over at him. “I didn't mean to pry.”
He let out a long slow breath.
“I let my temper get the best of me,” he replied after a long moment.
“I shouldn't have been in there.” I shook my head, looking only at the white hanky in my hands. “I always seem to be walking into rooms that I shouldn't.”
A breeze rolled over us from off the ocean. I shivered, not just because the breeze was cool for the Caribbean, but from emotional exhaustion as well.
“Come here,” Bastian commanded, his arms wrapping around me, holding me close to his heart and warming me up. I leaned my head against his shoulder, and he pressed his cheek into the top of my head. He was so warm and strong that I clung to him like a child. I felt completely safe with him holding me, like the world could crumble into a million pieces, but with him holding me, I would be safe.
“I liked the pictures above your desk,” I said quietly after a moment. I figured there was no reason to hide what I had done now. I wanted to ask him about the scars, but given that he was now wearing pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt, they obviously were something he didn't want people knowing about.
I felt his lips curl into a smile above my hair. “I like them, too.”
“I recognized Leo in some of them. Is the man in the others Gabriel?” I felt my muscles finally relaxing. “The three of you look close.”
I felt him nod and he began to stroke my hair. “Yes, all the pictures on my wall are of my family.” He shifted his weight, getting more comfortable. “After my parent's car accident, I didn't have anyone. My parents didn't even have wills made up. I went into the foster system. I had a decent family, but they weren't mine. Charlotte was the closest thing to family I had until Gabe moved in next door. I spent more time at Gabe's house than I did at my foster's. Then we met Leo our freshmen year of college.”
“What school did you go to?” I asked. He smelled so good, especially this close. Clean yet masculine. “Billionaire Harvard or Billionaire Yale?”
“Neither. I went to a state school I had a partial scholarship, but I still had to work full time to pay it off.” He shifted his back against the rock, finding a more comfortable position. “I wasn't a billionaire then.”
“You said you met Leo in college? Is that where you guys came up with your business?” I asked, snuggling deeper into his arms. He was so warm that I never wanted to leave.
“Just after graduation is when we came up with the idea. We all had degrees in business but no ideas on how to use them.” He shrugged. “So we made our own. Charlotte helped.”
I thought of Charlotte trying to be in the same room as Leo to start a business. I wondered if she had even been able to get three words out. “You know Charlotte's crazy about Leo, right?”
“I know.” He chuckled, the warm sound vibrating through his chest and into mine. “He's actually crazy about her, too. Why do you think he flew out so early? They've been circling each other like scared cats for years now.”
“And then she puked on him. Poor Charlotte,” I said softly into his chest.
“I have a feeling they'll end up all right in the end,” he assured me. “You can't find anyone more loyal than Leo.”
I shivered again as the cool breeze came off the water. It was well past midnight, and I was exhausted. Bastian pulled me in closer, rubbing his palms against my bare arms to warm me up. I was glad he didn't ask me to go in. I liked it better out here in his arms.
“How's your dad doing?” he asked. I knew he suspected it was part of why I was so upset.
“He's fine,” I replied. “They're running tests. I started looking up what each one does, but I stopped when each one scared me more.”
He hugged me tighter. “I'm sorry.”
“I just can't imagine life without him.” My breath caught. “I mean, I know I'll have to eventually, but I always imagined it when I'm old and my own children are grown.”
I suddenly remembered that he had already lost his parents. He had already lived this nightmare and here I was complaining when I still had my dad. He didn't have anyone. “I'm sorry,” I stammered, trying to pull back. “I didn't mean...”
“No, you're right,” he said softly, keeping me pressed up against him. “We're supposed to lose them when they're old and sick, not when they're young and vibrant. If anything, I understand more than anyone why you don't want to lose him.”
“Thank you,” I said softly, returning to my nook within his arms. “Thank you for taking care of us. I promise I'll repay you.” I stopped and thought about how I would ever afford such a thing. “You don't have to pay us for this appraisal.”
“No,” he said firmly. “You will get paid.”
“But...”
“I have Dr. Verner on retainer,” he explained. “I've already paid for his services.”
“But...” I still felt like we were taking advantage.
“And as you are so fond of pointing out, I am a billionaire after all,” he reminded me. He moved so that he could look me in the face, his gray eyes bright and the moonlight frosting the tips of his hair. The corners of my mouth twitched upwards. “There, I knew there was a smile in there.”
I smiled a little bigger. He was serious. And so wonderful that I wanted to cry again.
“Now, tell me about the painting you were looking at yesterday,” he commanded, pulling me back to his chest. “Tell me about your Paris plans.”
I knew he was just trying to take my mind of my worries and I loved him for it. I felt warm and gooey inside because he had remembered our conversion. Like it had mattered to him. Chad had never asked me about it, and my Dad had heard it all so many times that he had long ago stopped asking. I relaxed into him, pressing my cheek against his chest and feeling the rise and fall of his lungs, and then I began to tell him my dreams.
Sunrise Kisses: Chapter 15
Water splashed at my feet, waking me from the most amazing dream. I had dreamt that I had fallen asleep in Bastian's arms, telling him all my dreams. It had been wonderful.
And then I realized it wasn't a dream. I was out on the beach, wrapped up in Bastian's arms with our back against a big rock and the ocean rolling towards us. I shifted slightly, feeling the grit of the sand beneath my calves. The water was cool and made me shiver a little, but Bastian was warm beside me.
“Morning, sleepy-head,” he said softly. His voice was gravelly, as if he too had talked too much before falling asleep. I loved the idea of sleeping with him, the both of us wandering the world of dreams together.
Pre-dawn light filled the sky with gray promise. Soon the pinks and golds of sunrise would peek up over the horizon and banish the remaining stars from the sky. I couldn't remember when I had fallen asleep, but I knew I hadn't slept for very long. The two of us had talked for hours, and my sore, overused throat attested to not enough rest.
“You're going to miss your paddle-board session,” I murmured, looking up at the sky. Pink was now the dominant color.
I took in a deep contented breath. Bastian was warm and strong behind me and the waves were soothing. This was a perfect moment.
I turned to smile at Bastian, wanting to share in the morning's perfection. He was so beautiful that I couldn't help but stare. His eyes matched the sky behind him, a gray with just enough blue to make it soft. Even the scar along his cheek was softened in the morning light.
“Do you always go out at the dawn?” I asked, memorizing his face.
“I like seeing the world come up new.” He nodded, his eyes going to the horizon and waiting there for something to happen. “The light washes everything and gives a fresh start. It's the end of the dark.” He dropped his eyes back from the horizon to look at me. “It's the one time of day that I feel like anything is possible.”
I smiled, reaching up to touch his cheek. He had a light stubble, but I didn't mind. I wondered how he didn't see how much he made possible every day. He had accomplished so much. He had come from a bad situation and made the impossible happen. It made my heart ache that he still felt he needed the sunrise to banish the dark.
My fingers touched the scar running down his face, grazing the raised skin. He froze and I tried to pull away, but instead he captured my hand in his and pressed my palm to his cheek.
“You haven't asked about them,” he said quietly, his gray eyes serious and full of shadow.
I looked down, trying to avoid his eyes and instead seeing the lines of past pain hiding under his shirt collar. “I didn't want to be rude,” I mumbled. I figured they were something in his past that he didn't want to talk about, especially not to some random girl.
“Ask,” he commanded. I looked up, unsure if he meant it. The sky was turning a pale violet behind him, but his eyes were clear and he still had my palm pressed to his cheek.