Alton took a step back, put himself back into his boxers and pants and buckled his belt. Then gallantly he offered his hand. As I stood, he pulled me close and kissed me, his tongue probing mine, no doubt tasting himself. “You are quite the surprise.”
I tried to move away, but he held me tightly.
Brushing back my hair, he searched my face. “Go fix your hair and makeup. I’m going to go down and have that drink with your father.”
New panic coiled though me. Was it not good for him? Did I do it wrong? Would he tell my father he didn’t want to marry me? I was pathetic, and I knew it.
Alton wiped a tear that I didn’t know I’d shed.
“You scratched the shit out of my thighs.” He laughed. “Those will be fun to explain in the sauna at the club.”
Shame reddened my cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’ve never…” My chin lowered.
“Look at me.”
I did. The flecks were back in his eyes.
“You’ve never… blown someone?”
“I’ve never… he never came.”
Alton cupped my cheek as a smile spread across his lips. “Then you’re a quick learner. Next time I’ll need to tie your hands. I don’t like to be scratched.”
There were too many things wrong with what had just happened. Too many things to even consider. Instead, I clung to the words next time. They meant he wasn’t going to tell my father he didn’t want to marry me. They meant I hadn’t disappointed him or Charles. They meant I’d done something right.
Alton kissed my cheek and peered down my body, still only covered with a lacy bra and underwear. “I’m ready to be inside of you, but for the next month, I’ll take this.” He waited for my response, but I had none. “Clean up. Dinner is in twenty minutes.”
With that, he left me alone.
WHAT IF I’D ruined everything? What if he wanted me gone? Could he even do that?
I knew Deloris was outside the bedroom door when Nox and I argued. Despite the fact that she undoubtedly heard everything that happened, from the moment the two of us left the suite, she didn’t mention it. She respected our privacy. That wasn’t to say that the subject didn’t loom omnipresent—it did. However, neither of us mentioned Nox, Jocelyn, or what I’d said.
Deloris possessed the answers to my questions, but I made the decision that I owed Nox the same courtesy he’d given me. I wouldn’t learn my information from Deloris. I wanted it from Nox, when he was ready.
Entering my apartment that I had shared with Chelsea for three years was eerie. Just knowing that someone had been in there, touching Chelsea and our things, gave me the creeps. I walked from room to room. Nothing looked out of place, except tracks on the floor that I could only assume were made from the gurney
I was glad I came back. My time at Stanford and in California helped shape me into the woman I was now. Seeing it all again confirmed that it was time to move on.
I wanted to do that, at Columbia and with Nox.
Boxes of my things were neatly stacked against the wall. When I checked the kitchen cupboards, a lump formed in my throat. She’d packed everything that was mine, which was almost everything. Where our dishes had been were paper plates. Plastic cups replaced our glasses. I was leaving her with next to nothing when I wouldn’t even be using the things she’d packed.
I began to pull the kitchen boxes out of the neat pile.
“What are you doing?” Deloris asked.
“If Chelsea decides not to move to New York, I want her to keep the things in these boxes.”
“Doesn’t it all belong to you?”
I nodded as I carried a box back to the kitchen. “Look in here.” I opened the cupboard. “She’d be left with nothing. I won’t even be using it. I can’t do that to her.”
There was something in Deloris’s smile that told me she approved.
“I have the movers rescheduled. They’re coming on Monday. Everything will be in New York by Thursday.”
“That’s fast, faster than the movers I had scheduled.”
“Your friend needs to decide before Monday.”
“I’ll let her know when we see her.”
“Is there anything you need from here?”
I shook my head. “No. She has everything packed. I don’t want to…” And then I remembered something. “Wait.” I found the many boxes labeled shoes. In the second box I found the shoebox I wanted.
“I bought you shoes.”
“You did,” I replied with a smirk. “These pumps have a history, and I’m hoping I can add to their escapades.”
She lifted her hand. “I think that’s all I need to know. But,” she added curiously, “I’d love to know about that isolated rain shower the other night.”
Pink rushed to my cheeks. “No, I don’t think you would.”
When we arrived at the hospital, Deloris was preoccupied with something on her tablet and suggested she stay in the car while I visit. Isaac waited outside the door as he’d done on each visit. I was glad to have some alone time with Chelsea.
The minute I entered, I sensed her readiness to leave.
“Are you here to break me out?”
I kissed her cheek, noticing how the bruise around her eye was beginning to change color and settle, moving down her cheek.
“I’ve decided I don’t want to go back,” she said.
I pulled a chair beside her bed. “Back…?”
“To our apartment. I remember…”
“Oh God, Chels. What do you remember?”
She closed her eyes. “Not enough to help but I remember him touching me.”
“You didn’t say…” I searched for the right words, but they weren’t forming. “…he didn’t…”
“No. I wasn’t raped, but he touched me—not sexually. It was dark and he hit me with something from behind. I fell.”
“You know it was a man?”
Her chest moved rapidly as her breathing became shallow. “I heard him talk. After he hit me…” Her eyes opened wide. “Oh shit. No. I just remembered. Never mind. I should tell the police.”
“What?”
She looked toward the door. “Are you alone?”
I pressed my lips together. “No. Nox is paranoid. I have Isaac with me.”
Chelsea reached for my hand. “Alex, he was angry. When he hit me from behind, I fell forward, face down. He rolled me over—when he did, he said I wasn’t the right one.”
Pulling my hand away, I jumped back as my heart began to race. “What the hell does that mean? Did you see him? Do you remember any details?” My questions ran over each other, not allowing her time to answer.
“I don’t know what it meant, because even after he said that, he continued to hit me. Like he was sitting on me and punching me. I couldn’t see him. Maybe he was wearing something over his face.” She shook her head. “I can’t remember anything but his form.”
“Come to New York. If you get the job in D.C., fine. If not, at least you’re close to me. You can decide to take more classes or look for a job there. I’m sure there’s something. Please let Deloris take care of the movers. She’s amazing. She’ll get it all arranged.”
“Deloris?” Chelsea asked.
“The lady who came to see you this morning. She said she was here, just before I got here.”
“Let her take care of the movers?”
“Yes, she does, well, anything and everything. She works for Nox.”
Chelsea nodded. “Do you trust her?”
“Yes.” I laughed. “I know I said that really fast, and I’m not one to give out trust very easily, but Nox trusts her. So I do too.”
“All right.”
“All right? You’ll come to New York?”
“Yes. I think I’ll spend a little time with my mom. I don’t really want to be on a plane with a shiner.”
“You can always wear sunglasses.”
That made her smile. “I seem to remember someone doing that and the flight attendant making a comment.”
“Well, she was rude.”
“No, girl, you were sulking. But look at you now. Your Prince Charming is back.”
Prince Charming. Nox specifically said he wasn’t, and I may concur. Then again, many a prince began as a toad. Maybe he was both.
I debated telling Deloris and Nox about Chelsea’s memory. But as Isaac walked me to the car, I decided it could wait. I didn’t want to set Nox off again. I wanted to offer him something else, something I took away.
For the first time since I left Nox in Del Mar, my perspective was different. I didn’t think about being an employee or his being a client; I thought in terms of us. The idea that I may have upset him enough for this to end made me realize that I wanted there to be an us. I didn’t care what Bryce said. I cared about Nox and the way I felt when I was around him—the way he was when he was around me.
The man who lay beside me and stared up at the ceiling as he spoke about his mother, the man who loved his wife enough to wear his wedding ring even though she was gone, and the man who made me feel adored and worthy of his attention—that was the man I concentrated on.
The suite was dark when we arrived. Since I’d had Isaac and Deloris with me, I couldn’t help but wonder where Nox had gone. I prayed it wasn’t back to New York. I didn’t call him.
I believed he didn’t and took his absence as a sign, a chance to show him my change of heart. I set a plan into motion, one I’d only toyed with in my head.
The first thing I did was order room service, complete with French wine. The man from room service must have thought I was crazy after trying repeatedly to convince me to order their premium California cabernet. Finally, I offered a finder’s bonus for French Bordeaux. The rest of the order went much smoother.
Then I called my new accomplice and asked for Deloris’s help. I was pretty sure she’d done this for Nox once before; nevertheless, my cheeks may have reddened a bit as I asked for long pieces of silk and candles. Thankfully, I was talking to her on the phone and she couldn’t see.
That was, until she arrived. Handing me the shopping bag, I again saw her approving smile. She confirmed it when she whispered, “I know where he is. What time should I prompt him to return?”
Her clandestine support was exactly the strength I needed. A mischievous smile materialized. “Give me half an hour.”
Deloris squeezed my hand. “Be patient with him. He’s a good man.”
I swallowed the lump forming in my throat and simply nodded.
As I continued to set my plan in motion, I thought about my conversation with Chelsea. I did trust Deloris. She’d said Nox was a good man. He’d said that people needed to earn his trust. I wanted to do that. I wanted it mutually. Bryce’s accusations were only that. They hadn’t been substantiated, and besides that, Bryce had a history of breaking my trust. Nox hadn’t done that. Not yet.
The lavender bath I quickly took left its sweet aroma on my soft skin. My hair was up, secured in a messy bun with ringlets cascading down my back and around my face. My only attire was a rose-colored nightgown hanging seductively from thin spaghetti straps. Its style accentuated my breasts with a sheer lace bodice designed to hug all the right places and rich satin skirting that flowed to the floor.
I hadn’t been this nervous since our first date in his presidential suite. The anticipation had my entire body on edge. My pulse beat erratically as my insides twisted.
While lighting the candles around the suite and pouring the wine, I decided to trust the man who was about to enter. It might not be the decision Alexandria was raised to make, but it was the one my heart told me was right. It was time to listen.
Precisely thirty minutes after Deloris left, the door to the suite opened and my breathing hitched. The sight of Nox Demetri took the very air from my lungs. I gripped the bedroom doorframe, my manicured nails holding tightly to the wood in an attempt to keep from falling.
Silently, he surveyed the suite as his presence emitted confidence and allure. He was the pure definition of sex appeal, and that aura surrounded him like cologne. I’d never seen him dressed so casually—apart from swimwear—standing in jeans and a light-colored button-down shirt, bunched at his elbows. Nox was the oxygen I required to breathe. Inhaling him gave my lungs what they needed, filling me with him.
I didn’t say a word as he stood taking in his surroundings. As if each candle were a reminder and a light of empowerment, his shoulders broadened and stance straightened. By the time he’d turned completely around, the menacing gleam I adored shone from his pale blue eyes as they sought me out, finding me leaning against the bedroom doorjamb with a glass of wine in my hand.
Bravely, I moved forward. My bare feet padded against the floor. Each step brought friction from the lace of my nightgown as it rubbed my hardened nipples. With only his gaze he melted me, like the wax of the candles surrounding us. I was no longer solid, but pliable, wanting and needing more of his heat.
Coming to a stop before him, I lowered my eyes and handed him the glass. “Your wine, Mr. Demetri.”
He took the glass and said, “I thought we should talk.”
Since I was looking down, the strain in his jeans caught my attention. I longed to reach out and stroke it; instead, my tongue darted to my suddenly dry lips. “If you want to talk, I’ll talk, but if that can wait, we can do something else.”
I took a deep breath and sank to my knees, unsure what I was doing. I’d read books. I remembered Del Mar. With everything in me, I hoped this was what he’d meant by his unique tastes.
“Charli…”
“I won’t mention it again, Mr. Demetri, except to tell you that I was wrong earlier today. I disobeyed you, and I believe I should be punished.” I’d practiced that line multiple different ways, but saying it aloud was so different than each silent attempt. The spoken words heightened my arousal while simultaneously increasing a vulnerability I didn’t know I’d feel. With barely a drink of the French wine I’d poured, I was deliriously intoxicated by my words, his proximity, and the uncertainty of his actions.
A deep sound, somewhere between a growl and a moan came from his throat. From my view, his shoes shifted. The hairs on my arms stood to attention as the room crackled, charged with energy. “Stand up, Charli.”
My heart stuttered in its cadence as I looked up to his hand. Placing mine in the palm of his, I stood. His glass of wine was now on a nearby table. He lifted my chin, our eyes once again fixed on one another’s.
“Tell me what you’re doing.”
It was a command, not a request. “I’m trusting you, completely.”
His hands moved up and down my arms, their warmth comforting as I searched his expression. “You don’t need to prove anything to me. I reacted—”
I pushed myself up to the tips of my toes and covered his lips with mine. “I’m not proving. I’m showing. I didn’t even know your name in Del Mar, and I trusted you. Now that I know more about you, why would that diminish my trust?”
His arms surrounded me, pulling me tighter until we were one, fused together by the sheer heat of his embrace. The fervor of his kiss took what I offered and gave in return. Our tongues, no longer interested in talking, moved together, stoking the fire of desire. As the passion grew, his stance morphed. Subtle at first, his lips became more demanding, more apparent, as he fisted my tendrils of auburn, propelling my head back and making my neck vulnerable to his whims.
“Oh Nox,” I gasped as the scruff of his chin abraded my sensitive skin, and his teeth grazed behind my ear.
“You’re sure?” he asked, his voice now gruff and thick with desire.
Totally intoxicated by his presence, my answers wouldn’t stand up in a court of law. I wasn’t thinking straight. Mutual pleasure and fulfillment were all I could think about. Nothing else mattered. Accusations and fears were beyond my current comprehension.
“Y-Yes.” I barely had the answer out when without a word he scooped me in his arms. I didn’t know what awaited me in the future—ne
ar or far—yet as he held me close and our mouths joined in a bruising kiss, I didn’t care. The concoction formed by the combination of his tenderness and force was addicting, and I wanted more.
Gently placing me upon the bed, Nox’s eyes immediately went to the lengths of satin I’d laid across the mattress. His menacing gleam questioned with simply the furrowing of his brow as he lifted one length of the black satin and ran it over his palm.
Swallowing the saliva that moistened my throat, I simply said, “I trust you, Mr. Demetri.”
“That punishment you mentioned,” Nox said as he reached for the buckle of his belt.
My heart rate skyrocketed, but I refused to back down. Somehow I knew this was as vital to him as it was to me.
“Yes, sir.”
THE BREEZE SKIRTED my sun-kissed cheeks as it rustled the skirt of my wedding gown. Not as elaborate as the first wedding dress I’d worn, this tea-length designer original was ivory satin with tulle and taffeta skirting. The sweetheart neckline dipped teasingly between my breasts, creating the perfect showcase for the diamond necklace shimmering in the setting sunlight.
“Do you take this man as your lawfully…”
The words flowed from the officiant’s lips, words he’d undoubtedly repeated hundreds if not thousands of times. This was, after all, one of the top luxury wedding destinations. A former 11th-century palace on the cliffs beside the Amalfi Coast, Alton and I were saying our vows on a balcony above the Mediterranean Sea. Sparkling waves glistened in the vista of blue.
Though it was a private affair, the proceedings were extravagant, even by Montague standards. In many ways, the entire production was more elaborate than my first wedding. The ancient walls and fresco-covered ceilings gave the impression of being inside a work of art. From our suite to our nuptials, everything was planned to perfection. Unlike my first wedding, my mother wasn’t the planner, and I had about as much say as I did the first time. This was all Alton.
“I do,” I dutifully replied.
“Do you…”
I took a deep breath, the skirt shifting slightly as I settled my nerves and concentrated on the gray eyes drinking me in. Their contentment warmed my soul. This was it. I knew it with every fiber of my being. This was a wedding and the culmination of a business deal. There were no loopholes, no backing out. Even death wouldn’t save me this time. Our only way to a future representative of the life I’d been born to live was through one another.
Cunning (Infidelity #2) Page 22