Feeling White

by Charlotte E Hart

  “Are you in love with him, Pascal?” His brows rise immediately and a stupidly sexy chuckle erupts from his mouth as that real smile graces his mouth once again.

  “So forward, Elizabeth… You are quite astonishing in your assumptions.”

  “Well, I’d like to know. It’s obvious you two have history of some sort and I’d like to know how you feel,” I reply firmly as my self-belief with him grows. He remains still as he leans on his hand and furrows his brows, possibly in agitation or discomfort, his finger brushing against his lips as he thinks over his response.

  “What I feel for Alexander appears to go much deeper than love, my dear, so I try not to analyze it to any significant degree. I’m afraid it confuses even me,” he says as he continues to watch me. What the hell do I say to that?

  “Right, well, that’s interesting,” is all I can come up with. I’m not sure how to feel about his acknowledgement. “Do I have to worry about the two of you? Because, like you, I won’t compete, Pascal.” Unbelievably, I am on a roll of confidence and if I’m potentially going forward with Alex, I want to be aware of my competition all of a sudden. My own feelings for Pascal are confusing enough. The thought that Alex might have some as well is beyond irrational in my brain at the moment.

  “No matter how much I like you, Elizabeth, I can’t honestly tell you that I wouldn’t fall at his feet should he ask it of me. I have been there before, and as you know, it is an exquisite place to be. I would never dishonour myself by refusing him,” he says as he smirks wickedly at me.

  I stare at him with slightly narrowed eyes. At least he’s admitted something but the man is confounding and I’m really not sure how I should feel about what he’s just told me. I’m not even sure how I feel about kissing him this evening and what could have happened had it not been stopped. His ability to never answer a question directly is bloody infuriating and I’m left feeling uneasy with his answer as I continue sipping my brandy.

  His finger still taps softly against his lips as he smiles at me thoughtfully and I can’t help smiling back at him. He is naughtiness personified. It’s in his nature and for all the world, I wouldn’t change a thing about him. No matter how exasperating he is, he has become someone I now consider a friend of sorts. Whether I’ll live to regret that decision or not is entirely unknown to me, but regardless of his feelings for Alex, I could never imagine him not being part of his life.

  “Have you ever slept with him?” The question is out before I can stop it. I’m not even sure if I want to know the answer. His eyebrow rises as he licks his lips.

  “Slept? No,” is his short response. Helpful, thanks. Perhaps I wasn’t direct enough.

  I open my mouth to ask again but we both stiffen at the same moment and I know he’s felt it, too, that zap of something cold tingling across our skin. I instinctively rub my arms and watch as Pascal relaxes comfortably back into his chair as if he’s had years of practice at dealing with this Alex effect. Of course he has, Beth.

  “He has your key?” I ask, slightly perturbed at his almost peaceful posture. Why can’t I do that? Pathetic. Sort your shit out, Beth!

  “He has my soul, my dear. Why would he not have my key?” he replies as he licks his lips and his eyes spark to life playfully. Arsehole. I roll mine back at him and wait for Alex to materialize while I try desperately to achieve casual and unflustered. I want Alex to feel intimidated and uncomfortable. I want him to be awkward and unprepared but unfortunately I know he won’t be and secretly, and rather bizarrely, I’m glad of it. If he came in here meekly, I would probably laugh at him.

  Looking across at Pascal, I realise again how sodding confused I am and wonder if now would be a good time to leave. I could just go and avoid the strange scenario I’m about to enter. No, Beth, stand your ground. He’s an arsehole.

  I cross my legs and elongate them as best as I can, trying to achieve my best nonchalant and sexy pose as the door opens. Pascal smirks at me but doesn’t move his eyes from mine as he swallows his brandy with a heavy noise. I try to turn my head but for some unknown reason, it feels stuck in place as if I dare not remove my eyes from Pascal’s. It’s probably because I know that the moment I do, he’ll have me in tatters again and I’ll do anything he wants. I’ll use Pascal for the moment. His amusement should be able to keep me together if I can just hold onto it.

  “Alex,” I say quietly as I continue to gaze at Pascal. “What can we do for you?”

  I’m really trying but the nearness of him is so enticing, I feel like throwing myself at him. The need to just feel his mouth against mine again is so consuming that I want to give up the fact that he hurt me so badly and drop to my knees. All thoughts of his disloyalty vanish, as I smell that familiar scent linger under my nose. Unfortunately, that promptly sends an extremely carnal message straight to my groin and I feel that crazy leg tremble thing that Pascal hasn’t quite gotten close enough to this evening.

  “Elizabeth.” Oh god, I’d forgotten how good it sounds coming from his lips. “I need to talk with you and I would prefer to do that at home,” his velvety voice says confidently as if he knows it’s a foregone conclusion that I’ll go with him. I realise that it probably is, but Pascal’s rising brow tickles me and I can’t stop the infectious humour creeping across the table to me.

  “Really? You want to talk? Well I’m afraid I’m having dinner at the moment. Perhaps you could leave a sodding note and be on your way,” I say sharply, trying to twist the knife. I hear his low growl and sense him stepping closer to me. My skin flushes immediately and I curse myself for my passionate response to him. Stay in control, you idiot. Stop biting your thumb, Beth.

  “That is a fair point and I deserve it, but it won’t deter me from the fact that you are leaving with me in the next ten minutes.”

  I close my eyes at his forceful tone and blow out a breath. How on earth do I want to do this? Slowly opening them again, I turn to look across my shoulder at him and my insides melt to a liquefied state. My mind instantly muddles again as I look up into his hardened blue eyes and hold his gaze as firmly as I can. I don’t know what I want from him or from myself but I do know that he is still the most captivating man I have ever seen and I itch for him to hold me and remove the damage he’s done. I just don’t know if he can.

  And good lord, he looks magnificent standing there. He’s all bad boy casual in his black jeans, jacket and boots and I realise that I’d almost forgotten how broad he is. Compared to Pascal, he seems huge in his demeanour and physicality and I feel myself squeezing my thighs as that ridiculous panty combusting thing begins to stir again. His shirt matches his icy eyes tonight and the colour somehow seems to intensify his hold of my face as his impassive gaze refuses to let me go. His mouth twitches briefly as I swallow and I know he knows what I’m thinking about. Bastard.

  He moves a step closer and offers me his hand. I frown as I look down his corded forearm to that hand. I know the damage it’s capable of and I’m not entirely sure if I trust myself in it. I look back up at him and notice the light blue has gone and the darkened, sea-deep version is seeping through. He’s getting irritated by my hesitance and unfortunately becoming even more infuriatingly attractive as he does so. His black hair has that unbelievable just fucked look that I love so much, as if he’s been running his wicked fingers through it repeatedly, and his neck muscles are starting to show his impatience. It’s the most tantalizing display of erotica I’ve ever seen from him and I know I’m about to give in. I can’t help it. I want to go with him.

  “Take my hand, Elizabeth. Now.” He growls at me. I flinch a little at his now extremely stern voice and realise I have to take some control of my traitorous thoughts. He has been a complete dick and regardless of how much I want him, I have to show him how I feel about his behaviour. I try for apathetic, hoping that will be emotive enough to get my point across.

  “No, Alex,” I say as I stand and move to Pascal. His gentlemanly instinct had him rising the moment I did. “I might take i
t when you’ve explained yourself to me.” Pascal’s smirk turns into a wide grin of mammoth proportions as he places an arm around my waist and chuckles.

  “My rose, it has been an absolute pleasure,” he says as he kisses my hand and walks me to the door. “Please come back whenever you like.” We both turn to Alex as he mumbles something behind us about a hundred years. Pascal barks out a laugh and helps me into my coat as Alex sneers at him and continues to watch us carefully.

  “Thank you for your entertainment and candour, Pascal. It has been thought provoking to say the least.” Pascal chuckles and steps away from me. I move into the doorway and look back at Alex, who is now staring furiously at Pascal.

  “Alexander, do not look at me like that. From what I gather, this has been entirely your own fault, dear boy, and if she comes back to me, I will happily oblige her anything. Your temper, exquisite as it is, may not be enough to stop me next time,” he says as he points at the doorway. “Now go, the pair of you, before I change my mind about my options.”

  Alex continues to stare at him as he walks towards me. Something unknown passes between them as Pascal frowns at him and then he drops his gaze to the floor slightly. Whatever just happened was intimate and I watch in fascination as Alex nods his head. Apparently he’s now happy with his little internal conversation with Pascal. He turns to me, inclines his hand forward and gestures for me to walk along the corridor towards the exit. I stand for a moment, looking into his eyes, feeling unsure as to what the hell I’m doing. Pascal’s lounge suddenly feels slightly more appealing and I wonder whether I should go back in. I don’t know if I can do this again with Alex. He hurt me and yet I miss him. I could finish it here, right now, and move on with Pascal. His damned eyebrow raises as if he’s challenging me into a discussion and I feel my resolve kick in again as I narrow my eyes at him looking all sodding gorgeous. He smirks. Arsehole. Okay, I want him, but he’s going to hear my wrath. I turn, hold my head up high and stride like the best of them towards the probably waiting car.

  Keep it together, Beth. For god’s sake keep it together!

  ~

  “Lovely to see you again, Andrews. Thank you for the safe journey,” I say as I take his hand getting out of the car. I’ve done it purposely as I know it winds Alex up and I need to feel some sort of power over him. Clearly it’s not working because my stomach is doing bloody cartwheels.

  “Miss Scott, you’re welcome,” he replies quietly. I look up at those ominous red doors and feel the shiver run down my spine as I let go of his hand and he walks towards them.

  Alex walks around to me and for the first time, touches me on the small of my back. Instant heat rushes around every inch of my body and I look up into his eyes sharply, almost gasping for air. He smiles softly and replaces his hand again. Not a word has been uttered between us as we made our way here and yet I can feel his emotion swirling around his head. He watched me all the way but didn’t make a move to touch me or move closer. He just sat there looking thoroughly beautiful and absolutely fuckable in his dark, thoughtful mood.

  “God, I’ve missed you,” he says tenderly as he brings his other hand to my face and runs his thumb against my cheek. I thankfully manage to still myself before I roll hopelessly into him.

  Taking a step away, I look down and try to find some piece of anger that I have inside me to be vengeful, but if I’m honest, it’s just not there. His very presence is enough to make me feel at peace again and the thought of tumbling into bed with him is making me feel far too comfortable around him. Why did he leave me? Why did he mess this up?

  His hand suddenly tips my chin back up and I look back into his slightly anxious blue eyes.

  “Head up, Elizabeth. I can assure you that you have no reason to be looking down - quite the opposite, actually,” he says as he lets go of my chin and gestures toward the house.

  I take my first few steps and then feel my breath quickening. Sudden thoughts of how much I love him flood my senses and I realise instantly that I seriously don’t know what I’m doing, that I can’t beat him at this game and that I’m probably going to get hurt again. I feel the panic rising, and try as I might, I can’t push it away. I freeze in place and stare at the open door. I can hear the tick tock of the grandfather clock and it sends images of my last moments here flooding back to me. That bloody note etches itself back in my brain and I suck in a breath of air, trying to remove the sick feeling that is welling its way up my body.

  His arms wrap around me from behind and I feel his breath against my neck. It’s warm and comforting somehow, his hard body moulding to me as well as it always does. His fingers manoeuvre their way somehow up to my throat, stroking firmly, and I moan at the welcome desire that makes me tip my head back into him instantly and forget.

  “I know you’re nervous, Elizabeth, but please hear me out. I need to tell you how I feel.” His voice is so soft I can hardly believe it’s him, so full of course emotion that I melt willingly into his hold. We stand there silently for a while, me looking at his door, him breathing me into him and squeezing me tightly as if trying to stop me from running. Eventually I pull away from him and walk forward into the house with my legs trembling and my arms crossed over my chest. Perhaps they’ll shield my heart… Who knows?

  We walk into the lounge and I gaze around at the familiar surroundings and try to process how I’m feeling. My eyes land on the chessboard and I realise that the pieces are still in the same place as the last time I was here.

  “The board hasn’t changed,” I randomly blurt out. I’m not sure why but I haven’t said a word to him since we were at Pascal’s and I need to say something. He chuckles. It’s wonderful to hear that sound again and I smile privately.

  “Nothing’s changed. I haven’t been back here since the last time I saw you and...” He stops and I turn to look at him with my brows up. He looks a little lost as he brushes at some imaginary fluff on his shirt and I almost laugh because it’s so unlike him, but I stop at a small smile. I know what he’s saying and for the moment he seems a little on the back foot, which makes me feel a bit more in control. “Would you like a drink?”

  “Yes, please,” I say as I shrug out of my long coat, throw it on a sofa and sit down. He raises an eyebrow and smirks a little at my sudden change of behaviour. “Anything red?” His head quirks to the side and he takes his chance to glance up and down my body as I kick off my shoes dramatically.

  “Right, we’re doing this in that way, are we?” he replies sarcastically as he grumbles to himself and saunters off into the hallway, leaving me to watch his glorious backside.

  Stop it, Beth!

  He casually walks back in, having removed his jacket, with a changed expression and pours out two glasses. Handing one to me, he brushes his fingers over mine apparently casually but knowing exactly what he’s doing and moves to sit next to me. My eyes narrow. I will not make this easy for you, Mr. White.

  “No. Over there,” I say as I point to the chair. He rolls his eyes and smirks but does as I ask while gracefully putting himself in the other seat. I then realise that it might have been a bad move because now I can’t get away from his sodding eyes, so I tuck my legs up beneath me and hide behind my glass. Oh for god’s sake. Head up, Beth.

  “How have you been?” he eventually asks.

  “What a ridiculous question,” I reply sharply. It seems I have reverted to confident mode, or perhaps it’s I don’t give a shit mode. I really don’t know, but his look of surprise makes me smile so I decide to keep going with it.

  “I suppose it was. However, given your date this evening, I wasn’t too sure,” he replies as he swirls his drink, sneering a little at his own thought. Is he suggesting that I shouldn’t have been out with someone else? What the hell?

  “Mmm, yes, I was having a nice night. Pascal is quite the entertainer, isn’t he?” I say suggestively, hoping I’ve hit a nerve. He stares at me for a time, that cold almost pissed off face forming regardless of how much he’s trying to m
ask it. As I continue to look at him, his eyes drift downward and I notice something else. Hurt? Or pain, perhaps?

  “Did you want him tonight, Elizabeth?” he asks as he frowns and takes a drink. Oh bloody hell, so not ready for that question. Shit… Yes, I did, but not as much as I want you, unfortunately.

  “Why am I here, Alex?” I say impulsively, not prepared to discuss Pascal at all and suddenly just wanting to get to the point. He glances at his hands and then sighs.

  “Have you missed me?” he asks as he watches my face for any reaction. I gaze back as best I can without emotion.

  “Why should it matter? You left me with a note telling me that you didn’t care.” I take a sip of my wine haughtily and try not to frown at the taste because Christ, I hate the stuff, regardless of the price tag.

  “That was a mistake,” he says as he abruptly stands and walks out of the room again. Where the hell is he going? A few moments later he returns with a bottle of white and smirks at me. “You should have asked for white, Elizabeth,” he says as he removes the red from my hand and passes me a glass. Bastard! I can’t believe he noticed that.

  “The word has become difficult to say easily,” is my response as I take the glass. He sits down next to me and rests his elbow against the back of the sofa with a thoughtful gaze as I rapidly scoot away from him.

  “Elizabeth, you got caught up in my own mess of a brain. Something is happening in my business that caused me to react badly to seeing you with someone. I was wrong in what I did and how I left. Actually, I should never have left at all, and now I’m trying to make that right. I miss you and I want you back.” I look up at him and try to process the words. He misses me? If he misses me, why did he go?