But I wasn’t.
She was a very attractive young lady. I couldn’t help how my
body reacted. I’d been respectful. For the most part.
“This is me,” Weston said, pointing out the window to his building.
My driver pulled over next to a large bank of snow. To be fair, the
entire street was banked with snow, lingering from the storm the day
before.
“Guess I’m going snowshoeing,” Weston said with a sigh. He
stepped out of the car and immediately cursed, the door slamming
before I could make out the full extent of his blaspheme.
I leaned over Audrey, and not just because I wanted to smell the
rose bouquet in her perfume, but so that I could roll the window
down and call after my partner.
“Have a good Thanksgiving,” I said, “if I don’t see you again
before the holiday.” He was flying off somewhere later in the week—
Utah or Kansas—the United States Midwest was always a blur to
this Hampshire native.
“You too, friend. It was good seeing you. If even briefly. And nice
meeting you, Audrey.” He turned, stepping into the snow. “Fuck.
These were a brand-new pair of Giacomettis.”
“You can put them out with the rubbish, along with your balls.
Since you’re obviously not using them anymore.” I rolled up the
window before he could throw back a dig of his own, but he got me
with a simple flip of the bird.
I sat back in my seat, accidentally grazing my hand along
Audrey’s bare knee.
Perhaps, not so accidentally, but I played it perfectly—the
shocked drawback from the touch and an immediate apology,
stammering so that she would indeed believe that the brush was
innocent. With all the predators these days, I certainly didn’t want to
be confused for one.
Or at least I wanted to be my own breed of predator. The kind
that knew when to behave. Though the shock of the touch had sent
fire through my blood, it wouldn’t be followed up with any pouncing.
We drove in silence for several minutes, a thick silence. Too
thick. Too heavy, making the car hot and stuffy and tense.
I loosened my tie and stole another glance in her direction. She
seemed to be lost in her own thoughts. Had I offended her after all
with my touch?
Then I remembered the conversation from before Weston exited
the car. That was more likely the cause of any hard feelings.
Normally, I would brush the whole thing off. Let her be offended. I
wasn’t changing my stance on romance to please her.
The tension between us, though, wouldn’t dissipate. It seemed
filled with more than just the words of what I had said. It was growing
and breathing, and I felt the need to claw through it, the way you
claw through bedsheets when they’ve twisted around you during a
nightmare.
“You’ve been quiet,” I said. Obvious. To the point. “Have I rained
on your love parade?”
She twisted her head in my direction, her eyes catching a
reflection of a streetlight making them spark in the darkness.
“You can’t rain on my parade,” she proclaimed with a smile, as
though she were old Dolly herself. “I am firm in my faith.” She
swiveled a little more in her seat, angling herself so that her body
was pointing in my direction. “Are you quite sure that you’re firm in
your disbelief?”
Heat traveled down my spine, liquid and molten. That’s what this
tension was, then—not of a disgruntled nature, but of the sexual. I’d
been attracted to her, yes. I hadn’t allowed myself to believe it might
be mutual.
I studied her face. She had light almond eyes that were deep set
in a pear-shaped face, her pallor flawless. Not a single line marred
her skin. She was lovely. Delicious, I imagined. Fresh, like a peach.
Her bee-stung lips, turned up on both sides below her apple cheeks,
portrayed her as innocent.
I liked believing she was that innocent. It made it more fun to
imagine what those lips could be taught. What they could be
introduced to.
I’d sworn off love years ago, but not sex. Never sex. And Audrey
Lind was all sorts of temptation, the kind I knew better to stay away
from. She was too romantic. She was too American. She was too
young. Much too young. I was definitely old enough to be her father.
Probably.
Definitely.
I didn’t want to think about that.
She was also the sister of a subordinate, which felt highly
inappropriate, especially since I was only in town for the week.
Donovan might have gotten involved with the staff, but at least he’d
seemed serious about it. A fling was another thing altogether, not as
polite.
And none of that mattered since she was so very young.
“You’re hesitating,” she said, her smile broadening as though
she’d won some sort of trophy. “Are you unsure of your answer?”
I had to remind myself of the question. “No. My commitment to
refute love and relationships in all forms remains unwavering.” My
eyes flickered to her plump lips. The delectable mouth.
“I wonder if you’re lying.” Before I could offer a protest she went
on. “Which isn’t why I was quiet. I was thinking about Weston’s
situation. Not the current one, but how he was before he met
Elizabeth. I’m normally not into players, but he’s reformed. And his
past has advantages.”
Her words were a fishhook. If I were a smart little fishy I would
swim away as fast as I could.
I was a smart fishy. I was.
But I liked to swim as close to the bait as possible. Just to see
what it was.
“What exact benefits does Weston King have in being a former
playboy who now thinks he’s head over heels for a woman he’s fakeengaged to? The first woman he’s ever spent more than a weekend
with, might I add.” It was one of the messiest messes I had ever
imagined.
“Well. Um.” Her eyes fluttered downward and her cheeks
darkened a bit. “Weston figured out what he was doing before he fell
for Elizabeth. So when they were together, it was...you know.” She
rubbed her lips together—believe me, I was watching everything she
did with that mouth. “In the bedroom, I mean.”
“Are you saying that you are not…? That you haven’t…?” Icleared my throat, floundering a bit with how I was asking this nearstranger about her virginity. It was like the opening of a poorly writtenporno.Holy mother of God, I was going to be fantasizing about this forquite some time.“Oh, no,” she said in a rush.And to my relief. I couldn’t handle the weight of knowing that andlater having to get out of the car to see her to the door of herapartment building.“I’m not that innocent,” she went on. “I’ve had boyfriends. Twoserious. Long-term, each of them. Very committed, very in love withboth of them. And, maybe, even, either one of them could have beenthe guy. You know, The Guy? The Forever Guy?”The fairy tale. Yes, I knew that story.She was in a car now with me though. Not with me, but shewasn’t with anyone else either, from what I’d gathered during thenight. So those fairy tales had obviously ended. The way that everyfairy tale eventually does and life returns back to
“Are you worried about it?” I challenged.His eyes never left me. “Of course not.”“Then what are you afraid of?”His restraint broke, and his mouth swooped down on mine like awolf descending on its prey. There was no foreplay. No sweetseduction. Just hungry determination as he placed a hand at theback of my head and attacked with fierce ardor. He was firm andaggressive. He was skillful and demanding. He was in charge.Silly, stupid, willing lamb that I was, I latched myself to him,throwing my arms around his neck and licking at the greedy plungeof his tongue between my lips. I wanted his taste of wine andsmoked bass to be my taste, to be the only taste I could remember. Ineeded to drink him and devour him the way he seemed to need todrink and devour me.We were frenzied and sloppy, our teeth crashing against eachother at times, our breath coming in irregular measures. It felt asthough the whole of time had been reduced to this moment, theentirety of the universe reduced t
Disappointment sounded in my tone nonetheless when I finallyreplied. “Yes. The hotel.”The car signal clicked rhythmically as we waited at a light to turnuptown. I sunk back in my seat, letting myself remember, for amoment, the person I’d been when I’d wed. I’d felt so much oldermarrying a woman ten years my senior, but I was really such a childthen, only twenty-five.My, how I’d grown up since.And now my thoughts turned back to Audrey, younger than I’dbeen when I’d married, but just as enthusiastic and charmed withlove and life as I’d been.I opened my texts and found where she’d sent herself amessage.A: A million people in the city, and you and I met. That’skismet.I laughed out loud. My driver was spot on—she was fantastic.Fantastic and trusting and young and that was enough reason todelete both her number and the whimsical message from my phone.But I saved it instead. Not because she’d hooked me, butbecause I needed to know it was her when she called. If she called.
“Donovan Kincaid doesn’t know what to do with a kid. This is youtrying to keep him from me, like you always do.” This conversationreaffirmed my decision to get a second apartment in New York City—so that I could visit more often and have more access to Aaron.“I’m not keeping him from anyone. You are delusional.”“And you’re ice. Cold and bitter and mean. Exactly the qualitiesthat drove me to leave you.” Maybe I was going there after all.“You didn’t leave me because I was cold and bitter. You leftbecause I cheated on you.” She’d destroyed my heart with herbetrayal and she almost sounded like she was gloating.To hell with her.“You were ice cold and bitter before that. It simply took the act ofyou cheating on me to recognize that I couldn’t…” I paused andinhaled deeply. I didn’t need to relive this. I didn’t want to rememberhow deeply I’d once believed in her. In us.“That you couldn’t save me?” she finished for me. “Couldn’t makeme whole again? Is that what you were going
But I’d already thought about that.I kicked off my shoes and pulled my knees underneath me on thecouch. “Dylan is not actually your boss. He’s more like your boss’sequal, if you want to be technical.” And, to be fair, she herself wassleeping with a different man who was her boss’s equal. If therewasn’t an issue there, why would there be an issue with me?She dropped her coat and purse on the back of the sofa and puta stern fist on her hip—one of the postures she took when she wasassuming a motherly role with me. “If you want to be technical, he’sold enough to be your father.”I rolled my eyes. “He is not. He’s just experienced and wise.” Tobe honest, I wasn’t actually sure of Dylan’s age.“He’s twenty years older than you.”Huh. I’d guessed more like fifteen. “Maybe I have a thing fordads.” I didn’t, I didn’t think, but I could. Could I? Was that thecomfort I’d been unable to replicate with my previous boyfriends?“Don’t knock my kink. I don’t knock yours.” I was possibly m
I WAITED until Sabrina had left before coming out of my room forbreakfast. I didn’t want her to drill me about my plans for the day,and boy, did I have plans.First, I hustled over to a boutique lingerie shop nearby Sabrina’sMidtown apartment. They were on holiday schedule and openedearly, so I got what I needed and was at the register well before ten.With my purchases “in hand,” so to say, I finally pulled out myphone to get ahold of Dylan. Sure, I could have texted him before I’dgone shopping, but I didn’t want to seem desperate, contacting himbefore the sun had reached a decent place in the sky. Because Iwasn’t desperate. I was eager. There was a difference, I was sure.I had, however, composed my text the night before so it wasready to go with just a press of the send button.A: Happy Tuesday! Did U sleep OK?Polite, harmless. A message that wouldn’t scare him off.Still, he took his time answering. Almost seven whole minutes.Thankfully there was a Starbucks next door s
“I lured you? How is that possible when I’m the one who hasjoined you on your day’s plans? It seems, Dylan Locke, that you mayhave lured me.”Her expression was so convincing, I momentarily doubted myself.“No, no. I most definitely didn’t lure you. You lured me with your talkof fate and finding out what it had to do with us.”“Kismet,” she corrected.“Yes, that’s right. Kismet. You dangled the word out in front of methe way a fisherman dangles a—”“Hook?” she guessed.I narrowed my eyes. “Lure.”Her smile widened. “That’s amazing that a simple text messagecould hold that much power over you. Why do you think that is, doyou suppose?”And that was the real question, more important than why she washere. The question about why I was tempting myself with somethingI was never going to believe in. About why her particular lure was soirresistible. The question I’d hoped she’d be able to answer becauseI was at a loss.A question that wasn’t getting answered now either because thees
“Incredible!” Audrey gasped from behind me. She ran giddily tolook outside, stopping several feet short of the actual windows.“You don’t feel the true impact without getting close up.” I’dapparently forgotten my determination to pretend she wasn’t there.“That’s okay. I’m good right here. I’m afraid of heights.” Sheglanced quickly to Jeff Jones who’d entered the room with her. “Youknow that, Daddy,” she added, remembering her ruse.I hadn’t thought she could be afraid of anything, daring andimpetuous that she was. This new insight added to the enigma ofAudrey Lind. Part wildling, part devil, part innocent, all contradiction.“I thought you’d grown out of it,” I muttered. Whatever was Idoing, playing along?And she was invading my space again, standing too close,smelling too good. Making my jumper feel too hot and my throat feeltoo tight.I had to hurry this tour up.Sticking my hands in my trouser pockets, I turned to the agent.“The website said this unit is up for lease as