Текст книги "Betrayal "

Автор книги: Aleatha Romig

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THE MURMURED CONVERSATION between Alton and my mother turned to silence as I stepped into the dining room. I watched with satisfaction as red crept from the starched collar of Alton’s shirt like a tide, making its way up his thick neck to the tips of his ears. Time had changed his once blonde hair to white. I fought back my smile as something about the contrast of the reddening of his skin and the white of his hair amused me. With the vein in his forehead popping to attention and his jaw clenched, he pushed back his chair. As he was about to stand, my mother reached for his hand and turned toward me. The eerie calmness of her voice threatened to transport me back in time.

Then I saw the glass of red liquid, a cabernet wine, and I gave myself permission to smile. As a child I never realized the depth of my mother’s self-medication. White wine during the day and red at night: Montague Manor didn’t need clocks. We could tell the time by the color of the drink in my mother’s glass. Occasionally, other names were used: mimosa or sangria. It was all the same. Adelaide Fitzgerald lived her life in a blissful state of serenity because without it, she would have had to face the gruesome reality. She wasn’t strong enough to do that ten years ago. She sure as hell wasn’t strong enough today.

But I was.

“Alexandria, dear…” Her words never slurred. “Didn’t you find the dresses I bought for you?”

“I did. Thank you.” The programmed words weren’t totally insincere. The dress Jane showed me was lovely—for a teenager. “It’s late and I had a few text messages to answer. I know how you like to eat at precisely seven. Seeing that you held dinner for me, I didn’t want to make you wait any longer.”

The text part wasn’t a lie either. I just hadn’t responded to them yet. I wasn’t sure how I wanted to answer Chelsea. I’d messaged her to let her know I’d landed. It was in response to How are you holding up? that rendered me at a loss for words. Since I was someone with a degree in English, words should be my forte.

“Well, it is just us tonight,” she reasoned. “Tomorrow will be different.”

The fork I’d just lifted grew heavy. My hand landed upon the tablecloth with an exasperated sigh. “Tomorrow? Mother, I can’t stay. I have things that need to be done. I have a life.”

“You’re staying until after our meeting on Monday,” Alton replied.

“What meeting?”

Mother pressed her lips into a disapproving straight line toward her husband. “Let’s not get into all of that. We have the whole weekend before we need to worry about that.”

“That what?” I asked again.

A young woman entered from the kitchen with a pitcher of water. Her presence left my question floating unanswered in the air.

“Water, miss?” she asked.

“Yes. I’ll also have a glass of cabernet.”

Her eyes widened and she turned toward Alton. Ever so slightly he nodded.

Asshole. If they planned to keep me trapped in this house for three full days, it would take more than mint chocolate chip ice cream to get me through.

“Leave the bottle,” I said as she poured my glass.

The back of my throat clenched as I sipped the thick liquid. Unquestionably, the wine from the Montague wine cellar was more expensive than what I purchased at the grocery. I savored the dry cedar-wood flavor.

When I had control over my trust fund, I would consider spending more money on my wine. The taste I’d just enjoyed reminded me that it would be money well spent. As I inhaled the fine aroma, a recent memory came back and filled me with warmth.

I’d rather be drinking wine in Del Mar with him than sitting in this stuffy dining room.

“I’m not sure I approve of the way you’ve changed while away at school.” Alton’s words were as dry as the wine.

Lifting my brows, I tilted my head. “I’m not sure I approve of the way things have stayed the same here.”

“Please,” my mother began. “Alexandria, I’m delighted to have you home, if only for a few days. Can you please make an attempt to get along…” She took a long drink from her glass and eyed the bottle. “…for me?”

Alton poured her another glass. I sighed and began to eat my salad. It wasn’t until the main course was served that I remembered our earlier discussion.

“What is happening tomorrow night?”

My mother’s eyes came back to life. “Well, since it’s been so long since you’ve been home, and we need to celebrate your graduation, I’ve invited a few friends over.”

My stomach sank. So much for coming in and getting out of Savannah unnoticed. “A few friends?” I asked.

“Yes. It would’ve been bigger, but this was all done on short notice and as you know, many of our friends vacation this time of year.”

“Most of the people I know work this time of year.”

“Really, Alexandria?” Alton questioned. “How has your job been? Last I heard you were at an expensive spa in Southern California.”

I turned his direction. “Why would you know that? Are you having me followed?”

“No.” The word spewed forth as if the idea was preposterous. “Your mother is still listed on your trust. It’s Ralph’s job to keep us informed.”

“No,” I corrected. “It isn’t. If that’s the way Mr. Hamilton does his business, perhaps I’ll move the trust elsewhere.”

“If you’d read the trust, you’d understand the legalities.”

“I received the trust when I was nine years old. But you’re right. If I’m stuck here for three days, I’ll make a trip to Hamilton and Preston and take a look at it.”

“Because an English major will understand,” Alton said, obviously demeaning my choice of study.

“More so than a child.”

“Please,” my mother implored. “As I said, can we talk about all of this later? Tomorrow, Alexandria, I have plans for us.”

I exhaled. “What plans do we have?” It was clear my time wasn’t my own.

“I thought it would be nice for us to go to the spa.”

I closed my eyes, fighting the memory I’d had as I walked to my room. Careful to avoid Alton’s glare, I plastered my best Montague smile on my face and said, “That sounds lovely, Mother. What time should I be ready?”

“I made our appointment for ten. Then we can go to the tearoom for lunch…”

I smiled dutifully as she went on and on about the changes that had occurred in Savannah since I’d moved. With Alton’s occasional glare in my peripheral vision, I knew the truth. Nothing ever changed—not in Montague Manor and not in Savannah.

“DINNER FROM HELL IS OVER.” I hit send. “I CAN’T LEAVE UNTIL MONDAY EVENING.” I hit send again.

My phone buzzed with Chelsea’s reply. “CAN’T?”

“I TOLD YOU. THIS PLACE IS A PRISON.” I hit send.

Chelsea: “I TOLD YOU THAT YOU SHOULD HAVE TAKEN ME WITH YOU. I KICK ASS AT JAIL BREAKS!”

I laughed. Damn, I missed her. I couldn’t believe we’d really be separated when I moved to New York. I only had two weeks before I needed to move. Of course, that meant that Chelsea needed a new roommate or she needed to move too when our lease was up. There was no way she could afford our apartment on her own.

“I’LL KEEP THAT INFO UNDER WRAPS!” I replied.

Every time I asked her what she was going to do, she’d tell me to take her with me to New York. She’d interviewed for a few jobs in and around San Francisco, but I was seriously beginning to think she planned to move to New York. I wanted that, but I didn’t. The apartment I’d found on the Upper West Side was small with only one bedroom and cost as much as the place we had in Palo Alto.

Chelsea: “SERIOUSLY, WHAT DOES YOUR MOM WANT?”

Me: “I STILL DON’T KNOW. SOME MEETING ON MONDAY THAT SHE DOESN’T WANT TO DISCUSS. I KNOW IT’S TOO EARLY FOR IT TO GO TO ME COMPLETELY, BUT I’M THINKING IT HAS TO DO WITH THE TRUST FUND.”

Chelsea: “DO YOU THINK THEY’LL SIGN IT OVER TO YOU?”

Me: “I DON’T KNOW. MAYBE THERE WAS SOME CLAUSE ABOUT GRADUATING COLLEGE THAT I DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT.”

The faint knock at the door made me jump. I looked at the clock and my pulse increased. It was after nine-thirty.

“Alex, don’t let the ice cream melt.”

I took a deep breath. Jane. I’d forgotten about our ice cream and movie night.

Me: “I’LL KEEP YOU POSTED. TALK TO YOU LATER!”

Chelsea: “LATERS!”

Somehow I thought that salutation would be better coming from a hot billionaire than my best friend.

“I’m coming,” I called as I crawled off my bed and moved toward the door.

The locking mechanism clicked when I turned the key. The old house still had skeleton keys for each room. It was how the unused rooms could be locked from the outside. The obvious problem with skeleton keys was that most every one of them was the same. It didn’t take a jailer’s ring to open any of the doors. All you needed was one key, unless the key was in place on the other side.

I opened the door to Jane’s smiling face. Tucked in the crook of her elbow was a basket with two visible pints of ice cream, spoons, and napkins. My grin grew.

“I don’t think I’ve eaten ice cream directly out of the carton since I was here,” I said as I let her in. Turning the key and locking the door from the inside was habit that didn’t even register.

“Then what have you been doing?” She narrowed her eyes. “That’s why you’re so skinny and me…” She pointed to her behind. “…I got cushion!”

I flopped down on the bed. “Oh, I have cushion. It’s just not in the rear.”

“Yes, you do! When did that happen?”

I laughed. “Sometime during my freshman year. I woke up one day and boom! There they were.”

As Jane began emptying her basket, I noticed she was no longer wearing her normal slacks and blouse, but comfortable yoga pants. “Hey,” I said, “I haven’t had a chance to change. How about you get our movie going while I go put something better on than jeans that have been in three states today?”

“I’ve got it. Don’t worry about the ice cream.” She tried to stick a spoon into hers. “It’s still hard as a rock. Some things in this old house don’t work like they used to, but that walk-in freezer… it’s a dinosaur… a frozen one!”

“Ice age!” I exclaimed as I pulled an old pair of running shorts from my dresser. When I stepped into the bathroom, I noticed the shower. Peeking my head back out into the bedroom, I saw Jane’s cushion as she leaned down to put the DVD in the DVR. “Jane, I’m going to take a quick shower and rinse off today’s crud.”

She looked my way. “Hurry, child. Don’t forget the ice cream.”

“Oh, I won’t.”

About ten minutes later with my long hair in a towel wearing shorts and an oversized t-shirt, I opened the bathroom door. From the bathroom all I heard was the opening music to our show playing over and over. But as I stepped out, I heard Jane shutting and locking my door again.

“Did you forget something?”

Her rosy expression was gone. “No.”

“What is it?”

She walked toward me and grabbed my hand. Giving it a squeeze, she said, “Nothing at all. Let’s not spoil our reunion.”

“Jane?”

“You had a visitor.”

My heart fell to my stomach as my knees grew weak.

“See. That look there is why you don’t need to know any more.”

I knew whom she meant. “What did he say?”

“Said he wants you to stop upsetting Mrs. Fitzgerald.”

I sighed. “God, I hate it here!”

Jane patted my arm. “I said you would probably be awhile. You were indisposed. I offered to give you the message and may have mentioned that we were planning an all-nighter—a movie marathon.”

Swallowing, I nodded weakly. “Jane, tell me again.”

“What, baby girl?”

“What you used to tell me.”

“You’re as beautiful on the inside as you are on the out.” Her cheeks rose. “And, baby, with those knockers—sorry, cushions—you’re gorgeous on the outside. Don’t let anyone or anything ever make you forget that.”

She took a step toward the ice cream and stopped. Turning back to me she added, “And you ain’t no baby no more, Miss Alex Collins. You’re a beautiful, successful adult.”

“Thank you, Jane.”

“Now, let’s eat some ice cream, or we’ll be drinking mint chocolate chip milk.”

“Yuck!”

CHELSEA NUDGED HER elbow into my side. “It’s time.”

“M-Maybe.” I hesitated. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

She smiled her most encouraging smile. “Stop it. I know you can do this.”

She was my biggest cheerleader. Through everything—tests, papers, late night studying, and even the occasional boyfriend—Chelsea was always there, telling me I could do it. She was truly the sister I’d never had. I sometimes wondered what it would have been like to have a sister growing up, someone to talk to—about anything. But then, I’d remember what she would have had to live through, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

“I’m still not sure what I’m doing.”

She waved to the bartender and leaned closer. “You know those bracelets people used to wear? The ones that said WWJD—what would Jesus do?”

“Yes?” I answered suspiciously, certain that she didn’t mean for that to be her advice.

“Well, pretend you’re wearing one that says WWCD. Whenever Alex starts to respond or react, stop and think, what would Chelsea do?” She winked. “Charli would do, and then do that.”

“I’m not going to sleep—”

“Of course you’re not going to sleep. You’ll be awake the whole time. Just be sure to come back and tell me everything!”

I shook my head. “What if—?”

“Stop. Stop overthinking this. It’s dinner. That’s all. We’re on our me vacation. Have fun. Next week boring Alex can be back in your head. Let Charli have some fun.”

“Boring?”

Chelsea pressed her lips together and scrunched her nose. “I didn’t say that aloud, did I?”

Standing, I looked down at Chelsea’s high-heeled sandals and smoothed the material of my blue dress. Shrugging I said, “Maybe I’m just getting better at mental telepathy.”

“Good. That’ll make it easier to know what to do.” She touched her temples with the tips of her fingers. “I’ll be in your head all night.”

My heart beat faster with each step toward the doorman’s desk.

What if my mystery man didn’t think I’d follow through? What if he didn’t tell the doorman? I’d look like a complete idiot—that’s what would happen.

By the time I reached the counter, the palms of my hands were moist. Instead of thinking of what-ifs, I tried to concentrate on the click of my shoes against the marble floor and channel my best friend.

“May I help you?” asked the tall man with the same color jacket as all of the resort employees.

Squaring my shoulders and securing the mask of my upbringing, I replied, “Yes, I was told to tell you that my name is Charli.”

His dark eyes sparkled. “Yes, Miss Charli. I’m Fredrick, and we’ve been awaiting your arrival.”

I swallowed my apprehension. After all, this was good. Now more than Chelsea knew my whereabouts. Fredrick did too. He picked up the telephone and after a few moments said, “Yes sir, I’m escorting Miss Charli to your suite.” Next he turned toward me. “Please follow me. I’ll take you to the private elevator.”

Slipping back into the person raised to believe that staff needed no more than to do their job, I simply nodded. It wasn’t as if I still believed the Kool-Aid my grandmother had fed me, but at that moment my mind was too much awhirl with the possibility of what I might find at the end of the elevator ride. Nervousness and excitement vied with fear and anticipation.

Fredrick led me down a quiet hallway, the only sound that of my heels echoing off the paneled walls. Even though I worked to calm my breathing, as he pushed the button for the elevator, I may have jumped with the ding as the doors opened. This elevator wasn’t as large as the ones used by the other guests nor was it glass. Instead, it was lined with the same rich paneling from the hall, and where as the others had panels of multiple buttons, here there were only two. Fredrick pushed PS.

I had the almost unstoppable urge to ask Fredrick about the man I was meeting for dinner. I wanted to ask his name, but my pride wouldn’t allow it. After all, who got all dressed up and met someone in the presidential suite if they didn’t know whom they were meeting?

Me.

As I realized the answer to my own question, I lifted the corner of my lips. I was really doing this—well, Charli was.

The doors opened, not to a hallway, but to a foyer, large and light. I couldn’t help but look around as I stepped onto the white tile. In the center of the room was a large round table with an enormous arrangement of fresh flowers. The sweet aroma saturated the glass room. Through the skylight I noticed the darkening sky. Then my attention went to one of the glass walls. Through it was a spectacular view of the setting sun over the ocean.

“Miss Charli,” a woman’s voice brought my attention back to present. I turned toward the petite, older woman. Since she wasn’t wearing the resort’s signature navy jacket, I didn’t think she worked for the resort.

“Yes, hello,” I offered with as much confidence as I could muster.

Her cheeks rose as her brow lengthened. I still didn’t know who she was, but I got the distinct impression that she was assessing whether or not I should be allowed any farther into the suite.

“I was told to come here for dinner,” I said, afraid that the words emerged as more of a question than a statement.

“Of course.” Her expression relaxed. “I believe your arrival is anticipated on the patio. It’s such a lovely night. It was requested that dinner be served outside. Let me show you the way.”

I breathed a sigh of relief as I returned her smile. Though I’d hoped that someone would mention the name of the man awaiting my arrival, no one did. It was as if everyone knew not to say it in front of me.

I’d tried to recall exactly what he’d looked and sounded like earlier that day. But with each passing hour, the recollections became embellished in my mind. I recalled the sun behind his head now as a radiating glow. His voice, deep and stirring, rolled like thunder in my memory, fluttering my tummy while melting my insides. His chest wasn’t just muscular, it was sculpted, and I no longer just remembered the sight of his dark hair and slight facial stubble. Now my skin tingled at the thought of its touch—so real, as if I’d felt it against the most sensitive of my parts.

When I stepped past the woman and exited the glass doors, my breathing hitched.

I hadn’t embellished, not really. With the orange glow of the setting sun sending prisms dancing off the waves below, the man casually leaning against the rail was everything I’d imagined and more. Despite the ocean breeze, his casual stance, the way one hand lingered in the pocket of his pants while the other held tightly to a tall fluted glass of light-colored liquid, filled me with warmth.

I was glad that Chelsea had talked me into wearing a dress and that I’d insisted on wearing panties. As he righted himself, the light gray suit coat he wore moved effortlessly, accentuating his shoulders and forming a V to his trim waist. If I’d thought he was handsome in his swim trunks, he was even better in a silk suit. The white shirt he wore was unbuttoned at the neck and his strong jaw was covered with just a hint of stubble. Whoever this man was, he wore the combination of casual and class with ease.

I remained still as his grin grew and he scanned me from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. Just like earlier at the pool, the gaze of his light blue eyes burned my skin, sending a rush of heat and leaving goose bumps in its wake. I found myself lost in the paleness of his eyes. Like pools of liquid, I imagined drowning in their depths, and then they settled on mine.

“Welcome, Charli with an i. I’m very glad you accepted my invitation.” Flutters like butterfly wings filled my tummy as I searched the horizon for clouds of an impending storm. There were none. It was him. His voice did roll like the low rumble of thunder.

I continued to remind myself to do as Chelsea would do. With all the issues that girl had in her life, lack of confidence was never one of them. As he closed the distance between us, I stood as tall and resolute as I could, diligently fighting the urge to look away.

When we were merely inches apart, I replied, “It wouldn’t be very nice of me to refuse my husband.” My cheeks flushed at the sound of my own words. Although I hadn’t meant them the way they sounded, I saw in his micro-expression that he heard the alternative meaning.

“That’s good to know,” he said with a grin.

Damn, maybe I am channeling Chelsea.

I closed my lips to stop the explanation from spilling out while trying to maintain my air of composure. Looking past his handsome face, I nodded toward the ocean, as the sun sunk closer to the horizon.

“This is an absolutely stunning view.”

“Yes, Charli. I couldn’t agree more.”

I turned back to him, but his eyes weren’t on the setting sun. They were on me.

“I wondered if you could be as beautiful as you were this morning, wearing more than you had at the pool.” He cocked his head to the side. “I no longer need to wonder.”

Blood filled my cheeks, but before I could respond, the woman who’d met me at the elevator came out onto the patio pushing a cart. When I turned her direction, she was taking the cart toward a small table with two chairs. It was off to the side, in an area with a glass partition that blocked the sea’s breeze. The small table was covered in white linen and in the center was a flickering flame within a glass globe.

“Would you like to have a seat?” he asked, reaching for my elbow and leading me toward the table.

I almost jumped at the touch of his warm skin against mine. Electricity like I’d never felt surged through my veins, setting off detonations at each synapse. My eyes snapped to his, and for just a moment, I believed he felt the same thing, but just as quickly, his expression returned to its casual, confident demeanor.

“Yes,” I said, trying also to ignore the chemistry that threatened to knock me off my feet. “Thank you. You didn’t need to go to all this trouble.”

He laughed. “It wasn’t me. It was all Mrs. Witt. She was happy when she learned that I wasn’t dining alone.”

My knees bent as he helped me with my chair. I turned toward Mrs. Witt. “Thank you. It’s lovely.”

“I can’t take credit for the cooking. It all came from the dining room. However, I did choose the menu,” she said confidently. “I do hope you enjoy seafood.”

“I do.”

My mystery man began to pour a light-colored wine into my glass. It was then I noticed the bucket with ice beside the table and the private pool on the other side of the partition.

“It’s a chardonnay.” He lowered his voice. “I know we’re in California, but I’m partial to this label. It’s from the Burgundy region of France. Just don’t tell anyone I’m not supporting local wineries.”

“I promise,” I said, leaning forward. “Your secret is safe with me.”

I saw his gaze lower toward my breasts. But instead of calling him out or covering myself, I remembered my invisible bracelet and sat tall, leaving the V of my dress in full view. I’d never been a fan of my breasts. For most of my teenage years they didn’t exist. And then one day, my B-cups overflowed. I truly don’t know what happened—genetics or hormones. Whatever it was, my B’s became D’s. I didn’t know what to do with them and complained that they made me look heavy. Again, it was Chelsea who told me to embrace them. She promised that the doors my education and intelligence didn’t open would be flung open by my girls standing proudly at attention on my chest.

I lifted the glass and took a sip of the wine. The flavor was crisper than other chardonnays I’d had. “I like it,” I exclaimed. “It’s crisp, not as sweet as others.”

His pale eyes relaxed. “I knew my wife would have a discerning palate, or is it your tongue?”

While I struggled with the appropriate response, Mrs. Witt came back, filling the silence and leaving me with my mystery man’s suggestive smile. She placed a tray of cheese, olives, and crackers on the table and just as quickly disappeared, leaving us alone.

“Thank you, again,” I said, “for saving me from Max.”

“So that’s what he’s calling himself this week.”

I motioned around the patio. “Is this what you do? You save women from the resort leeches and lure them to your lair?”

“My lair? Am I Batman?”

“Are you? I don’t know.”

He smirked. “If only I could make a living at doing just that, but alas, no. You’re my first rescue.”

I stopped my reach for a piece of cheese and looked back up at him. “Your first?”

“My first rescue,” he clarified. “Hardly my first.”

“Why?”

He lifted his glass toward me in a toast. After I lifted mine, he said, “To you, Charli with an i, and to learning more about you.”

After our glasses clinked and we both took a sip, I asked the question that I’d been dying to know ever since our morning encounter. “You seem to have a clear advantage. You know my name, but I’ve yet to learn yours.”

“Do I?”

“Do you what?”

“Do I have an advantage?” He leaned closer. “Do I know your name? You see, I had the resort’s reservations scoured. I wanted to send a gift to your room and confirm our dinner, yet Charli was nowhere to be found.”

I took a deep breath. “Well, I’m here with my sister. I guess my name isn’t on the reservation.”

“Your sister?”

“Yes, and you? If I were to have the reservations scoured?”

The sun had now fully set, falling below the water and the darkening sky was beginning to fill with stars, especially over the water.

“Would you believe, Batman?” When I didn’t respond, he said, “Bruce Wayne?”

Though I pursed my lips, I felt the twinkle in my eyes.

“Since I suppose you could have the reservations scoured, you’d have the advantage of being able to zero in on this suite.”

Why hadn’t I thought of that?

“But I’ll save you the trouble.” He lifted his right hand over the table. As I reached to take it, he turned mine and lightly brushed his lips over my knuckles filling me again with warmth. “Let me introduce myself. Charli, I’m Nox.”

“Knox?” I repeated his name, more like a question. “Like Fort Knox?”

“In some ways, but without the K. I do however have a thing for locks and security.”

Retrieving my hand and allowing his name to roll through the corridors of my mind, a smile graced my lips. His name was perfect—unique and powerful—like the man seated across from me.

He went on, “Tell me something about you. How did your parents come up with the name Charli. Surely they knew what a beautiful girl they’d had.”

I shrugged. “If you’re asking if they wanted a boy, I can answer unequivocally yes. However, Charli is short for Charles, my grandfather’s name.”

Nox grinned. “Well, the name Charli is as lovely as you.”

Mrs. Witt returned with salads and our conversation waned. It wasn’t awkward silence, but comforting in a way. We knew very little about one another, but what little we knew surrounded us like the glass partition, protecting us from whatever lurked beyond.

“Nox, what do you do?” I smirked. “Besides rescuing women? Oh, and wearing a cape?”

“Like I said, you’re my first rescue, and I reserve my cape for at least the third date.”

So this is a date.

“I run businesses,” he said between bites.

“Businesses?” Maybe the presidential suite wasn’t indicative of his wealth. Maybe he was there on the company’s money.

“Yes. It’s really not that exciting. I travel a lot. That’s how I knew that Max and his friend were up to no good. I’ve stayed in Del Mar on numerous occasions.”

“I’d like to think that I would’ve seen through him, but I still appreciate your rescue.”

“I’m sure you would have. Maybe I stepped in for selfish reasons?”

“Selfish?”

“Well, yes. I enjoy having you indebted to me.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Indebted? Tell me, Nox, what else do you enjoy?”

The glint in his eyes spoke volumes, but instead of answering, he asked, “Was that your sister? The blonde who went off with Max’s friend?”

“Yes, and believe it or not, he tried to get her to pay for his drink.”

Nox’s brow arched in triumph.

“Yes,” I admitted. “You were obviously right. However, she did see through him.”

“Then perhaps my intervention was unnecessary.”

I shrugged. “If you hadn’t rescued me, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

It was Nox’s turn to shrug. “I assure you, that even before Max’s clumsy attempt to play you, you had my attention this morning. That doesn’t happen often. I also assure you, if I wanted you to be here, with or without my intervention, you would be.”

“Only if you broke that rule about your cape,” I said, trying for some levity.

“No,” he answered, with all seriousness. “I don’t break rules, and I don’t appreciate it when others do either.”

I was afraid to look down, fearful that my increased heart rate was made visible by the bouncing of the silver chain between my breasts. “Why, Nox, you seem rather confident of yourself.”

“Yes, Charli, I am.”

I reached for my wine and worked to steady my pulse. I shouldn’t be here. Nox was the type of man I purposely avoided at Stanford. The campus was full of them: strong secure men, men who knew what they wanted and took it. There was something in their demeanor that frightened me. It wasn’t their need for power or control. I had that too. In the right situation I was confident and driven. No. The reason I avoided them was because of what was happening to me on the patio of the presidential suite of the Del Mar. With each of Nox’s words or phrases, my insides tightened to the point of pain.

Stupidly, the pain itself didn’t frighten me. What scared me was that an undeniable part of me liked it. It was the part of me I’d suppressed as Alex. The energy Nox radiated electrified me, bringing to life a forbidden desire that I didn’t want to acknowledge.

Successful women stood on courthouse steps and spoke with poise and determination. They studied hard, worked tirelessly, and made a name for themselves. Alex Collins didn’t need a Mrs. in front of her name or a man standing beside her. She had a future built on her own blood, sweat, and tears.

She shouldn’t be a woman who melted at the sound of a deep voice. A successful woman didn’t go to dinner with a stranger just because he told her to. Nor did they dampen their panties at the mere suggestion of what else he may tell her to do.

Panic boiled deep inside of me, erasing Nox’s words. For a moment I was a voyeur watching the scene as a silent movie. With the faint lighting highlighting the railing, the illumination of the pool, and the glow of the candle, I saw the movement of his lush full lips, but I couldn’t hear the words. My attention was focused on the small shadows that chased across his high cheekbones and in the hollows of his eyes.