The Game

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The Game Page 57

by Kira Blakely


  “Nothing is going on, Mom. He’s just a friend,” I said, placing my hand on my hip. I was a little taken aback by her tone. She sounded more upset than I expected her to be. Like I had done something personally to offend her.

  “And you lost your job! That friend of yours punched Big Mike! And now you’re spending time with him. Come back home this instant!” she screamed into the phone.

  I could feel my heart racing. My good mood had dropped to a sudden low. I couldn’t believe my mother was reacting this way.

  “I’m an adult, Mom. I can decide what to do for myself, thank you very much,” I snapped and hung up the phone. Before she had a chance to call me back, I switched the phone off and threw it over on the kitchen counter top.

  It had taken my mother all of two minutes to ground me back to reality. I breathed in deeply, eyeing that tin of Luke’s Columbian ground coffee on the counter.

  ***

  I was walking around the cabin with a mug of freshly brewed Columbian coffee in my hand. The place was huge, and with Luke still sleeping in the bedroom upstairs, I felt like I was completely alone.

  I climbed the stairs to the second floor, the feel of his soft plaid shirt comforting against my skin. This cabin, which wasn’t even Luke’s actual home, seemed to give me a sense of how he lived in his real life. This time with me was only an alternate reality for him, and I needed to remind myself of that. I grazed my fingers along the velvet-smooth walls as I walked down the hallway. I was imagining Luke’s home, with his chocolate-crazed cousin and his mother who slept with her fur coat at night.

  I could picture Luke standing at the end of the hall with his arms open, calling out to me. I had never met a kinder man, even though he was also the most handsome and the richest I knew. He made me feel warm and safe, special. Like he had eyes only for me.

  All my insecurities from the previous day had vanished. It was true that Luke didn’t know everything about me or my background, but he didn’t seem to care. He hadn’t pressed me about my past; he wasn’t curious. It seemed like he was interested in only me and our time together.

  I kept walking until I came to a room at the end of the hall, directly below the bedroom upstairs where Luke was still sleeping. The door was slightly ajar, and I pushed it farther, sipping from the mug again. The coffee scalded my throat as it slid down, filling me with warmth and a caffeine-stimulated tingling sensation.

  The room I had entered was a study/library. The walls were lined with books. In the center of the room was a large wooden table, polished and stacked with files and more books. A plush green leather chair was on one side facing me, and I could almost picture Luke sitting in it. An open laptop faced the chair as I walked around the table to it. I couldn’t help but slide into that chair. It was inviting me over; I couldn’t say no.

  I sank into the soft and welcoming seat, and I placed the mug on the table and closed my eyes. Luke sure led a luxurious life. I could see that he was rich beyond measure, that I couldn’t possibly predict the amount of money he had. Did I want to know?

  The black screen of the laptop teased me as I blinked at it. I sat back up in the chair and breathed in heavily. My fingers were clenching and twisting around on my lap. Maybe I could peek a look at his laptop. Maybe it was password protected and I wouldn’t be able to see anyway. Was there anything to see? Was Luke hiding something from me?

  My fingers hovered for a second over the keyboard. Why was I suspicious again? I knew this was wrong. I was a guest here. Luke had opened the cabin and his life to me, and it would be evil for me to snoop around. I hadn’t pressed a key yet; my soul was torn between my curiosity and what I knew was morally wrong to do.

  But then my eye fell on a magazine cover tucked under the laptop. It piqued my curiosity, because Luke’s piercing lava-black eyes peered out at mine. I tugged the magazine out, and my heart sank.

  The cover was of Vincent Stoltz. In a gray suit, his hand on his cuff, adjusting a gem-studded cufflink. His usually ruffled dark hair was slicked back and neat. He was clean shaven and barely recognizable. His eyes were the same though. He had posed for the photograph and had a stethoscope around his neck.

  The cover was captioned: The most eligible bachelor in the country also makes breakthrough medical discovery, more on page 3…

  My hands shook as I flipped the magazine over to the third page.

  The man sleeping upstairs, the man who I had spent the night with, was Vincent Stoltz. The billionaire doctor and entrepreneur who had discovered the cure for Coeliac Disease. The article spanned four pages, and I scanned it hurriedly with my eyes. I couldn’t bring myself to read all of it, but there was no doubt now that Luke and Vincent were the same man. How could I have been so foolish? He’d thought so little of me he hadn’t even given me his actual name.

  When I’d researched Vincent Stoltz, I had focused on boring medical journals that were printed with no pictures of the man’s face. I’d had no clue about his personal history. It seemed all I’d had to do was pick up any fashion magazine, and I would have known.

  Pictures of two women in the article caught my eye.

  One was designer Sarah Popov, and the other was socialite Maria Smirnov. Both women were rich and came from aristocratic Russian families. Just like Vincent Stoltz. He was rumored to be engaged to one of them, and the media was in a frenzy trying to guess which girl. Millions of hearts would break if the rumors were true and Vincent was indeed engaged to be married. The playboy would be throwing in his towel soon and settling down.

  I couldn’t read anymore. I flung the magazine to the floor and stood up from the chair. Everything I had read in the magazine had come as a shock. I had no idea who I had really spent the night with. Luke—Vincent—wasn’t just an ordinary stranger. I had been foolish enough to fall into the trap of the country’s most notorious playboy.

  Still in his shirt, still barely clothed, I ran out of the study. My mom was right; I should have gone straight home. I should never have given this man a chance.

  Chapter 14

  Vincent

  I woke up with a sudden jerk to the sound of a door slamming somewhere downstairs. I raised my head up and my hand went searching for Gemma automatically. I had spent the night dreaming of her, even though I had her right there in my arms. I could smell that lemon scent of her shampoo on the pillow next to mine, and I felt myself harden immediately.

  She wasn’t in bed with me, but her spot was still warm. Forcing my eyes open, I looked around the room for her. I figured she was in the master bath or downstairs, milling around the cabin. It was comforting to know that she was somewhere nearby. I rolled over, daring to touch my raging erection. My mind was racing with dreams about the day and night before, images of Gemma. Her supple naked body in my arms, those pert pink nipples in my mouth. I was desperate for her again, to feel the softness of her curls in my hands.

  I sat up in bed, leaning myself against some pillows I propped up behind me. No, she was definitely not in the bathroom. She must be downstairs. I wished she was in the room so I could ease my hard-on in her beautiful body. But, she deserved her space. Things were going too fast for us. Hadn’t we just met?

  Just twenty-four hours ago, I hadn’t even known Gemma Ramsey, and today all I could think about was her. The way that smile spread across her face, reaching her eyes, her soul. I wanted her in my arms again.

  I ran my fingers through my tousled hair. What was going on? I had never lost control like this. I knew what I had found in Gemma I’d never had with anyone before. She seemed to be genuinely grounded. She seemed real and honest, and undoubtedly, she was very smart and witty, too. Not only was our chemistry sizzling whenever we were around each other, I felt comfortable around her. I missed her when I couldn’t see her. These were all new feelings. And she was still a stranger to me.

  I mean, how well did I actually know Gemma Ramsey? Other than the fact that she used to work at a diner, she was studying biology and wanted to get into med school?
>
  But I didn’t really care. There was nothing in the world that she could reveal about herself that would put me off her. There was an earthly innocence to her, a certain naivety that I had not seen in anyone else. She made me feel charmingly ordinary, like she didn’t care about the money on display in this cabin. Like she was actually interested in me, as a human being. I had never had that before.

  I have to tell her the truth.

  A wave of guilt overwhelmed me when I realized that by giving her a false name when we first met, something I’d done spontaneously, thinking she’d be nothing more than a fling, would certainly come back to bite me in the ass. I needed to get ahead of it, try to explain what it had been like for me, with the paparazzi always on my tail.

  I swung my legs over the bed and walked over to the place where we had discarded our clothes the night before. Her pink top, her sweater, her jeans were all on the floor, but my shirt was missing. I smiled, realizing that she was wearing it.

  I pulled up my jeans and found a fresh shirt to wear from the closet, then walked into the bathroom.

  Staring at myself in the mirror, I realized that my eyes were ablaze with thoughts of Gemma. I was wide awake, and I hadn’t even had a sip of coffee yet. She was like a drug, an elixir that woke me up. I was excited about the day because she was in the cabin with me. I wondered what else I could find out about her, what more she would reveal?

  I brushed my teeth and splashed some water on my face before I went looking for her. My fingers were itching for her touch. I climbed down the stairs until I got to the living room.

  “Morning,” I called out, but got no reply. The previous day’s events came crashing back in my mind. She had tried to leave me once already.

  I ran into the kitchen and found her cell phone on the counter. No sign of Gemma.

  “Gemma!” I yelled as I scoured the cabin, running back to the bedroom, checking the balconies and the guest rooms. On the second floor, the door to my study was wide open. I rushed in to find it empty as well.

  A mug of coffee was on the desk, and I walked over to it. It was lukewarm; she was here very recently. When I looked down at the carpeted floor, I realized that I was standing on something, a magazine.

  I picked it up slowly, checking the cover to see which magazine it was. I thought I had hidden it well under my laptop the previous morning. I couldn’t even remember why I had brought it here with me. It was one of the magazines Mother was begging me to read, so I could find out what the world thought of me. Fuck the world.

  Gemma had seen this. I scanned through the pages, the photographs of Sarah and Maria scattered through the print. Gemma had read this. She knew about the rumor mills. She knew who I was now. She knew I had been deceiving her.

  I flung the magazine back on the floor and darted outside. She had made a run for it, again.

  She could leave if she wanted to. I had no right to try and hold her back, but I wasn’t just going to let her disappear without a last word. I couldn’t just let her go like this.

  Chapter 15

  Gemma

  I didn’t care that I was scantily dressed, only in a plaid shirt that belonged to a man I didn’t want to set eyes on ever again. At least I had some underwear on. I just wanted to get out of there. I didn’t really know the way out of the estate; I hadn’t been paying attention to the trail that Luke had driven down the previous day. I still couldn’t think of him as Vincent; Luke was the one I’d so stupidly fallen for.

  All I knew was that this place was deeply tucked into the woods, and I would have a hard time finding my way out of here. Very soon, I was lost. Panting, I keeled over, placing my hands on my bare knees.

  It was a lovely sunny day out in the woods, and the birds chirping would have been an easy distraction. But, not today. Today I had bigger things on my mind. For instance, that I was the biggest idiot the world had ever seen.

  How could I have fallen for that charm? I had certainly lived up to my simple small-town upbringing. I had fallen into the arms of the first handsome rich man who’d offered to fix my tire. How much more of a cliché could I become?

  I imagined Luke waking up in his kingly bed with a smile on his face, proud of his previous night’s conquest. He might even text a friend to tell him how he had nailed a simple country girl who didn’t know any better. And then he would text Sarah, or Maria, or whoever else he was supposed to be engaged to, and tell her he missed her and how lonely it was up here in the woods by himself.

  I straightened up again, still panting. I was ashamed of myself. Not only was I embarrassed about falling for Vincent’s charms, but the man I idolized in the medical world was a complete playboy. Not worth my adoration.

  I kept walking, hoping the path would lead me somewhere. By now, however, every direction I looked appeared to be the same. I worried that I was walking in a loop, and I was just going to end back up at the cabin again.

  Images from the previous night flashed through my brain. His rock-solid body, his washboard abs, the trail of dark hair that ran down his navel and disappeared into his jeans. How big and tight he felt inside me. He had known exactly what to do with his fingers in his car. He’d had me under his complete control. Now I knew why; because he was a womanizer. I hadn’t thought I was his first; I wasn’t so naive… but I hadn’t realized he was nothing more than a playboy. The article about him made his reputation in the billionaire social circles very clear. Vincent Stoltz made women wet in their panties, and he was not shy about who he wanted to fuck. But it seemed the bad boy was going to be tamed. By Sarah, or Maria or whoever. Had I been one of his last flings? Should I be honored? Hell, no,

  I wanted to scream until my throat bled. The banging in my chest was actually my heart, but it felt alien in my body. So stupid. So stupid!

  I kept walking, keeping my blurry sights on getting out of the woods in one piece. I would become one of the many amusing anecdotes he related at one of his champagne parties. Just the thought of it made me sick.

  The one thing I had vowed to never do in my life was have a one-night stand. And it wasn’t difficult to stick to the promise, given that the choice of men in this town wasn’t exactly drool worthy. But this was not how I imagined I would break that promise. I didn’t believe in one-night stands. I hadn’t believed that someone could make you so crazy, push your beliefs to such a limit that you would give in to your physical desires with no thought for the consequences.

  And, unfortunately, I had been stupid enough to believe that it was more than just the sex. I had woken up with a happy satisfied glow on my face, believing that he wanted me for more than just a night, that our comfort with each other meant something more.

  The truth was that he was here on a vacation, to get away from the pressures of leading a life in the limelight. I was just a bonus.

  I heard the car engine and stopped in my tracks. I could tell that the car was nearby. I held my breath, the beating of my heart growing loud in my ears. The sound of a door slamming put me further on edge. Twigs and leaves crunched under shoes; someone was running toward me.

  “Gemma!” he shouted behind me.

  I turned slowly, starkly aware now that I was practically naked. I had scratches from thorns on my bare legs, and that my hair was probably now an even bigger mess.

  “Seriously, Gemma, where are you going?” he growled, like he was exhausted with me. His fists were clenched, and his shoulders were heaving. That dark torturous gaze had returned to his eyes, the one I had seen the previous day at the diner.

  “I’m trying to go back home,” I said, jutting my chin out at him. I wasn’t his responsibility anymore. I wanted him to just leave.

  “Like this? Without saying goodbye?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest. He was standing with his legs apart; I could see the strength in his thighs. He could crush me if he wanted to; I knew how strong he was.

  Chapter 16

  Gemma

  We were glaring at each other. Despite the fact that I wa
s angry, I couldn’t help but feel like the breath had been knocked out of me. He looked absolutely perfect. It was hard to imagine that he had just woken up. Even though his hair was tousled and he had a darker shadow on his chin, he looked like a million dollars. Casual and comfortable in his jeans and shirt, he was devastatingly handsome, and I would have run into his arms if I wasn’t determined to never see him again.

  “I didn’t think that you would want a formal farewell,” I said, feeling self-conscious in my lack of clothing. I could see him studying me… my legs, my messy hair. He had noticed the scratches on my knees.

  “Why does it have to be a farewell at all?” he asked, breathing in harshly through his nose.

  “I saw the magazine, Vincent. You don’t have to pretend anymore. You got what you wanted from me; you should let me go now,” I snapped, tucking in a few curls behind my ears nervously.

  The look in his dark eyes changed again. His gaze softened. Just like the previous day, his temper went from red hot to lukewarm. He seemed to have an immense control over his emotions, an art I had not yet mastered.

  “And what is it that you think I wanted from you?” he asked, crossing his arms over his expansive chest. I knew how easy it would be for him to grab me and pin me down to the ground. I couldn’t believe I was still lusting after him, after all this.

  “You wanted to get into my pants, and you managed it very smoothly. So, bravo to you. But I have to leave now,” I spat the words out at him. I could feel my hands shaking from the onslaught of emotions coursing through my veins. What was this hold he had on me? Why couldn’t I just turn around and walk away from him? What was holding me back?

  “Please,” he said softly. “Don’t go. Let’s talk about this.”

  “What is there to talk about? You lied to me! You didn’t even tell me your real name!” I yelled, getting angry all over again. “Do you give a false name every time you go on vacation and want to put one over on a stupid local girl?”

 

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