by Scott, S. L.
The sight of her coming sends me over, sinking with her while murmuring her name, “Beautiful.”
I don’t lie there long before I roll to the side. She exhales loudly and even though her eyes are still closed, her hand finds mine between us, and our fingers entwine. I like watching her come back to the now. Her lids slowly lift, and she looks at me. Biting her lip, she rests her hand on her chest. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Slipping my arm under her, I hold her close and kiss her head. I tighten my arm around her, not ready to let her go, especially since she fits perfectly to me, all sticky sweet from the love we made.
Lifting up, she leans over and kisses me. “Of all the bistros, you walked into mine. It’s not quite Casablanca, but Paris will do.” I could stare at her all night, lying just like this next to her, and listen to her stories. “Did you ever see that movie?” she asks.
“No. We should see it sometime.”
“Yeah, we should, but after some sleep and food.”
“Deal.”
“But first, do you mind if I clean up and take a shower?”
“Do you mind if I join you?”
She climbs out of bed, naked before me and not shy at all. “I was hoping you would.”
* * *
We made another mess of ourselves in the shower. Fortunately, we soaped up afterward, which led to a whole other round of fun.
Exhausted and clean, we lie together in the dim light of the hotel room, our world contained for a few more hours. Winter’s breathing deepened and steadied a while ago, but as I hold her, I don’t want to fall asleep and miss this peace I’ve found.
We’ve slept together. I have to tell her the truth, but will she hate me when she finds out why I’m in Paris? I turn off the lamp and then work my way back into the center of the mattress again, enjoying the feel of her snuggling against my side.
In the dark, she asks, “Can I ask you something?”
Surprised she’s awake, I rub her side, and say, “Anything.”
A pause filters in, but then she adds, “Something’s been bothering me, and instead of letting my mind spin, I thought I’d just ask.”
All right. “Ask away.”
“How did you know my last name is Nobleman?”
Fuck.
13
Bennett
Lying under the weight of her question, we’re motionless, our breath the only sound in the room. I hate myself for doing it, but I do it anyway. “What are you talking about?”
“You said my name in the elevator earlier.”
“Yeah . . .” Please let it go. Please let it go.
She sits up, but in the dark, I can only feel the motion. I can’t see her silhouette until my eyes adjust. I miss the crinkles when she smiles. I prefer them instead of the glare I’m now getting, giving me the distinct impression that she is, in fact, not going to let this go. “I never told you my last name.”
Grabbing an invisible shovel, I start digging myself into a deeper hole. “Sure you did. You must have.”
“I didn’t.”
I sit up and rub her arm. Please stay. Whether she does or not, I owe her the truth. Just give me the chance to say it. “Winter—”
She moves out of reach when she climbs out of bed. “I think I should go.”
“I think you should stay. We need to talk about this.”
Although she showed no signs of shyness when we made love, she sure is now. Her pants are pulled on before I can get out of bed. “Winter, please.”
Her hands go in the air, stopping me from taking another step closer. “No. I’m leaving, Bennett.” She tugs her shirt over her head. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I don’t want to stay a second longer to listen to your lies.”
“You stayed long enough for us to make love.”
“Love?” She rolls her eyes. “I didn’t trust my instincts when you said it. I questioned myself, that maybe I had slipped.” Her gaze lands hard on me again. “I didn’t.”
“Let me explain.” She’s rushing, not running, so I seize the opportunity to reason with her. “It’s going to take longer than thirty seconds. Can you please give me a few minutes?”
She grabs her jacket after slipping on her shoes and then glances to me. “No.” Spying her bra on the bench, she snatches it and shoves it into her purse. “Everything about this situation is a warning for me to go.”
“You’re safe, Winter.”
“I’m not safe if sirens are going off around us. Whatever you have to say must be pretty bad if you can’t fit it into the time you’ve already been given.” The silver chain of her necklace dangles from her pocket as she heads for the door. “Those lies must be eating you alive to suddenly have the need to confess your truth.”
Trailing behind her, I ask, “Why’d you have sex with me if you questioned if I was lying?”
“I didn’t know you were lying. You just confirmed it.” After the rise and fall and a shaky breath, she doesn’t look back, but says, “And sadly, because I’m lonely.”
“Then stay and don’t be. I like you, Winter. That’s the truth. We can go back to New York together—”
“Oh, my God! That’s it!” Spinning back, she points at me, her eyes piercing mine. “Are you working for my father?” She closes her eyes, and says, “Did he hire you to sleep with me and torture me more than he already has?” He’s tortured her? What the fuck does that mean?
“What you know about me is true. I work with my brothers. I’m from Texas—”
“I’m such a fool. You’re probably some detective he’s hired.”
“I’m not,” I reply, but she knows her father well since I know he did.
When I move toward her, she opens the door wide, and says, “Don’t follow me. Please. Just leave me alone.”
She starts down the hall, but I catch the door before it closes. “This is not what you think,” I call after her.
“Tell my father . . .” She pauses and looks down at her feet. When she turns back, she adds, “You know what? Don’t tell my father anything. I have nothing left to say to him.” The elevator door opens, and I watch as she steps inside. Her eyes meet mine just before the door slides closed, leaving me standing naked for the whole floor to see. Fortunately, everyone’s asleep at this hour.
The door closes behind me, and I stand there. What the fuck just happened? How could I let what was a tiny lie blow up to mass proportions? No one wins when lies are involved. I know this. I was taught better than I’ve been acting. Now I’m paying the fucking price for it. Fuck.
I have no idea where she’s staying, but I sure as fuck don’t want her leaving. I have to go after her. I pull my suitcase out from the bench and grab clothes to get dressed, pulling on underwear. Underneath a shirt, I find it—the file!
Shit. Should I really be using a file that an investigator provided, unbeknownst to her, to fix things?
Can I fix things with her?
Should I give her space and wait until morning?
I have no clue, but I do know this. If I push for too much, I may inadvertently push her away. Or has that ship already sailed? Her fucking father. Why the fuck did I say her last name?
Fuck.
I’m probably the last person she wants to see. She needs space. Women need room to let their anger breathe. I drop the clothes and grab my phone before falling back on the bed. I shouldn’t need to call my brother with this, but even though I know he will give me a hard time, it’s worth it if I can get an ounce of wisdom.
“Hello?”
I hold the phone out to make sure I called Ethan. The screen reads EE—Ethan Everest. Holding it to my ear, I reply, “Hello?”
“Bennett, it’s Singer.”
“Oh. Hey. I wasn’t expecting you to answer.”
“I know. Sorry. Ethan left his phone on the counter. I only answered because I saw your name pop up.”
“No, it’s fine. How are you?”
“I think I should be asking you that question.”
Thinking about it, I try to reason through my stubborn emotions. Not good, quite honestly, but I won’t worry her. “I’m fine. Is E around?”
“He’ll be back in a bit. Do you want me to have him call you?”
She’s the most kind-hearted person I know. I can ask my sister-in-law anything touchy-feely, and she’ll never think less of me for it. “That’d be great, but hey, since I have you, do you mind if I ask for some advice?”
“Is this concerning a woman?” I hear the joy in her voice. I can imagine her smile. She lives for this stuff, and we’ve all come to appreciate her belief in happy endings.
“Yes,” I admit. I’m a grown man who always has an answer, but something about Winter has thrown me off my game.
“I’m all ears.”
Pulling the covers over me, I say, “I lied to her, and she left.”
“Why did you lie?” This is her MO. She listens open-mindedly before calling you out. And she will if she sees fit.
“Essentially? I knew she wouldn’t talk to me if she knew the truth.”
“Oh. That does complicate things.” The phone goes quiet, and I give her a moment to think, hoping she might be able to help me find my way out of the mess I made. “So she knows you lied, but still doesn’t know the truth?”
“Not fully.”
“How much does she know?”
“That I know her last name even though she didn’t tell me.”
She hums as if she’s pondering the situation. “But that’s not the lie, is it?”
“No.”
“I’m sorry, Ben. I don’t know the full story, but it seems like nothing will be better until she does. Then you’ll have a better idea if the relationship can survive.”
“I know you’re right. I just like her.”
“I can tell. Hey, your brother’s here.”
“Thanks for talking with me, Singer.”
“Anytime and good luck.”
I’m going to need it.
The phone is handed over because Ethan asks, “What’s going on, little brother?”
Thinking about what Singer just said, I start to wonder if I need more advice. She hit the nail on the head. There’s no getting past this with Winter until she knows everything I’ve been hiding. “Not much. Just checking in. I’m going to fly back.”
“Good to hear. Commercial or private?”
“I’d like the jet late afternoon, if possible.”
“It’s possible, but it’s late here, and the office is closed. Text Zenny and let her know. She’ll schedule it for you.”
“I will, and then I’m gonna try to get some sleep.”
“Everything okay?” He reads my tone too well.
“Fine.” Suddenly, I don’t want to get into it.
“Take care, Bennett.”
“See you later.”
We hang up, and I drop my phone on the bed beside me. My mind still loops through the things Winter said before leaving. She thinks I’m a detective tracking her on her father’s dime. I wasn’t tracking her down for him, but—fuck, is stalking her to get a contract signed any better?
Fuck no, it’s not.
I hate that I broke her trust, the betrayal burning in her gut. I get up and find the file tucked in the suitcase, hidden from prying eyes. Flipping it open, I riffle through each piece of paper, looking for one thing—an address. I can go over there, try to talk to her, sit and wait until she’s sick of me and allows me to share my piece.
Considering this PI knew where she hangs out at night, it’s odd he never filled in the address to where she’s staying. Weird. It’s not like she seemed to be hiding where she was going each night. Why wouldn’t he have it listed?
I have no way of contacting her—no phone number, no address, nothing but the places she frequents. Puzzling.
I’m pretty confident she won’t return to the bistro, so that’s out. Winter Nobleman could disappear into this populous capital city without another word or leave altogether, and I would never see her again.
Fuck. She already had trust issues because of her family, and I just made it worse. I’ve screwed this up so badly I don’t know if I can come back from it in her eyes.
The contract doesn’t matter. I don’t think it did from the moment I met her. Maybe that’s a betrayal to her dad, but I’m okay with that. Did he hire you to sleep with me, to torture me more than he already has? Hearing her voice that . . . Does she actually believe that’s what happened?
God. Is he capable of that? Of torturing her? I can’t imagine it, but why would she lie? I have no problem betraying her dad? But betraying Winter? My chest is tight, and my stomach is tied in knots.
When she opened up about her feelings, she gave me her trust, and in one fell swoop, I lost it. I only have myself to blame.
I’ll make this up to her, but first, I need to find her.
14
Winter
I hold everything I’m feeling in until I see the Eiffel Tower between two buildings. Anger. Hurt. Betrayal. Frustration.
Regret.
Regret.
Regret.
The dam bursts inside this taxi, and my emotions pour out, flooding my eyes and streaming down my face.
I should have known, so I only have myself to blame. I can’t trust anyone. I knew this already. Least of all, my father. I wish I could believe he cared about me, but that’s never been the case before. Why would he change now?
How did I not figure out Bennett’s angle earlier? The hell I’m living in has blocked my better instincts. Who’s good and who’s bad eludes me. I can’t believe I was so desperate for a friend, to be touched and treated like a human again that I let my guard down.
I’m so stupid.
The taxi stops, and I pay the fare before making my way up to the small cell I lock myself inside each night. Who would have thought a luxury apartment building could feel like a prison. Am I imagining the danger I’m in? Maybe I’m not in any at all anymore. There’s been no contact since the rose. Maybe these are just scare tactics.
Those tactics worked last time. I almost made it to the airport before the monsters who kidnapped me tracked me down. That threat and a gun had me returning to the toile wallpapered room.
Even so, I can’t help but wonder how far I can get this time.
I unlock the door and let it close behind me with a loud click. I know this place by memory, so I move about in the dark—drop my purse on the table, toss my jacket on the chair. Toeing my shoes off, I’m about to take off my shirt, feeling dirty from being naked earlier, and shower, but the air shifts, and I sense him. His presence fills the room, causing my heart to thrum in my ears. A hand covers my mouth before I have time to scream.
Jutting my arm forward, I’m about to send my elbow into his ribs and then knock him to his knees, but his other hand clenches my throat, cutting off my air. Grappling at his hands, I’m hoping to remove one so I can breathe, but I’m lifted to my tiptoes instead.
As I struggle to breathe, I realize a cloud of his cologne typically warns me that he’s here as soon as I enter the room. It didn’t this time, as if he wanted to scare me more than an attack in the dark would.
His lips are at my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “I missed you, ma princesse ténébreuse.”
I hate when he stakes claims, calling me his dark princess as some kind of play on my name. He never could stomach that I was a Nobleman, but he reveled in the dark of Winter. I was his dirty secret when he was my everything. He’s a harsh reminder of the mistakes I’ve made. I’ll never trust my instincts again. How could I have been so naïve? Now twice.
My body stops the fight, and my feet go flat to the floor. He releases my throat, and I drop to my knees, coughing so hard my throat burns.
A light switches on, and I turn back to find him sitting on the couch, arms stretched wide across the top and feet kicked up on the coffee table. His sandy blond hair is greasy, his grin matching it. He’s a lowlife who likes to pretend he
’s someone. “You—” I start to cough again, unable to speak just yet.
A bottle of water lands on the floor next to me. He snaps his fingers and points to it. “Fetch.”
“Fuck you.” The words grind in my throat, the pain like fire shooting down my neck. I hate myself, but I need the water.
“Watch your language, Winter.”
I drink despite the humiliation I feel for giving in. The water is cool, quenching my thirst and tamping out the flaming pain. I amble to my feet and sit on the edge of the bed. It no longer matters who we were before Paris, our roles have forever changed. Kurt McCoy is a different man, the one in control and I am his captive. He’s so far gone from the man I thought I once loved.
I despise him. His arrogance. His cruelty. His determination to belittle me. He hasn’t been missed, so why did he come tonight? “It’s almost been a month.”
“Three weeks,” he replies indifferently.
“Three and a half. A month in two days. You brought me here and then left me. Why? And why are you here now?”
“Capri is lovely this time of year. The crowds haven’t invaded like they do at the holidays. Anyway, I couldn’t disappoint my friends by not making an appearance.”
“You’re an asshole.” I hate how he never answers me. I hate this night altogether. Why now? When I’m already crippled by another man’s deceit?
“Surely, you know you’ve never been alone, Winter. I have too much invested in you to leave you to your own devices. A woman like you tends to find trouble around every corner.”
“Corner office, you mean.” I pretend to own an ounce of control, and snap back, “I found you right in your office. Easy as pie and played you like a pro.”
Sitting forward, he rests his arms on his legs and studies me. Kurt never did know what to do with me. I used to amuse him, but like all cats, they get bored with their prey and eventually . . . I suck in a shaky breath, holding it until my throat releases. I hate the way the light hits his eyes as if he’s savoring my slow death.