Текст книги "Remind Me "
Автор книги: Ann Marie Walker
Соавторы: Amy K. Rogers
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 19 страниц)
“Don’t worry, Alessandra, leave all the planning to me.” Her mother reassured her with a pat to her free hand. “The Gold Coast room at the Drake.” Victoria’s green eyes sparkled with excitement. “We’ve pictured your wedding there since you were a little girl. I used to take you for Princess Tea on Sundays . . .”
Her mother continued chatting but Allie stopped listening. Their reaction to her job offer, the less than subtle dig on her weight, and now this new wedding date; it was all too much. But as overwhelmed as she felt, Allie knew it was all just the tip of the iceberg.
She’d spent the past forty-eight hours trying to block out what had happened in Hudson’s office. But now, just thinking his name made her pulse race a little faster. She knew she’d be in trouble if she allowed her mind to wander any further. She couldn’t let herself picture the dark look in his eyes just before he kissed her. She couldn’t close her eyes and imagine his hands, his lips, his teeth. She couldn’t indulge in the fantasy of his body sliding over hers as . . .
Stop.
She shook her head. It was a mistake, a brief lapse in judgment. Nothing more.
Allie eyed the untouched dessert before pushing it away. Her mother would be pleased. Thanks to the knot in the pit of her stomach, Allie couldn’t have eaten her favorite dessert if her life depended on it.
Chapter Six
Hudson leaned against a mahogany bar spanning the length of a room that looked to still be in the 1920s. The private club was smothering despite its size, with its dark panels and original wood floors polished to a high shine. Luxurious booths anchored the corners of the room, leather wingback chairs tucked in around tables sat center, and the glow from Tiffany lamps set the mood.
It was the kind of place where men sat around drinking single malt scotch, smoking cigars, and discussing the current state of the market.
As for the culture of the club, things hadn’t changed much, though women were now allowed inside. And you didn’t have to wade through a thick haze due to the no-smoking laws. But he bet he could still catch an old-timer or two bitching about the good old days.
He’d been invited to join every private club in Chicago, including this one. They were all looking for the next billionaire to boast as a member of their institution. Except Hudson wasn’t interested in being institutionalized or taking part in a my-yacht’s-bigger-than-yours pissing contest. No, the only thing that interested him was the woman sitting in one of those wingback chairs.
Hudson moved slightly to his left for a better view of Alessandra Sinclair. He watched as she crossed her legs and thought about how good it felt to have them wrapped around him. But those thoughts were soon ruined by an arm intruding on the perfect image.
His stare shifted to the Prada-wearing prick whose fingers were caressing her wrist. Hudson was already in a foul mood, and the more Mr. Touchy got feely, the more he wanted to cut the guy’s hand off with a butter knife.
Slowly. Painfully.
Hudson’s body warmed and he grounded his weight to keep from hurdling over the tables to do just that. Christ, he was acting like a jealous boyfriend.
As he swirled his glass, he stared at the familiar scene playing out before him. The cubes rattled and beat against the amber liquid that was doing nothing to burn the taste of her out of his mouth. He took another drink, further proving the definition of insanity. What the hell, eventually his tongue would grow numb. But there wasn’t anything that could short-circuit the memories that had a merciless grip on him. And they always found a way to the surface. Especially now.
The hours passed slowly and the water taxi he’d been driving all summer couldn’t move fast enough. With each ferry run, his excitement grew. His shift was ending soon and she was always waiting for him with a look on her face like she was seeing him for the first time. One smile from her and he was a goner.
He’d “borrowed” this same boat the night before to take Allie on a little sightseeing tour of the island. But all they’d managed to see was a whole lot of each other. His body had been rock hard against the softness of her curves and they were all tongues and hands and breathless lust. She’d locked her arms around his neck and raked her fingers into his hair with a greedy intensity. And when he’d slipped his hands beneath her shirt, unclasped her bra, and cupped her breasts, she’d moaned softly against his lips. He’d pushed her to the limits, begging her to let him inside, but the answer was always no.
Hudson steered the boat up to the dock. He shoved his hand in his pocket and curled his fingers around the seashell anklet, his other hand giving his coworker the finger for thinking he was playing a game of pocket pool. At some point during their tryst her anklet had fallen off, and after a thorough search of the boat, they’d been certain it was gone forever. He’d kissed away her tears and promised to buy her another one. Then this morning when he jumped in the boat, ready to fire it up for the day, the sun caught the little metal clasp. He couldn’t wait to secure it around her ankle again. As people loaded and unloaded for the last run of the night, he was sure he had a huge, shit-eating grin on his face.
But when the last passenger boarded, his face fell. It was her. She stepped into the boat with her parents and some boy who looked like he was dressed for a game of cricket. She walked right past him without so much as a glimmer of recognition. No smile, no little nod. Nothing. Zip. Zero. Zilch. The message came through loud and clear. He was the help and she was the one percent. Hudson released the anklet, gripped the wheel, and throttled the boat out across the lake.
He closed his eyes against the recollections, but when he opened them he was met with more of the same: Alessandra sitting with her self-serving parents sporting prideful grins directed at him, the dandy dipshit. And Hudson was right where he’d always been. Nothing had changed. He was still the guy on the outside looking in.
But goddamn it, he had changed and so had the rules of the game.
Hudson watched as she excused herself from the table, catching the slight frown playing on her lips. His brow furrowed as he wondered which of the three were responsible for putting it there.
He downed the rest of his drink and dropped a couple bills to cover the 200 percent markup on the scotch, plus a hefty tip. Hudson gave her a head start, then quickly walked the length of the bar, tracking her zigzag movements around the tables. When he reached the lobby he caught the heel of her shoe disappearing around the corner and was tight on her.
She paused for a split second. He halted midstep.
Two biddies wearing the socialite’s uniform of Chanel suits were making a beeline for the door marked “Ladies,” their heels clacking on the marble floor. Alessandra ducked her head as if she didn’t want to be recognized and continued down the hallway.
Hudson moved silently through the paneled corridors, paying no mind to the history depicted in the black-and-white photographs that hung on the walls. His gaze was focused solely on her as his eyes lingered unapologetically on the sway of her hips. As he watched her, he felt himself harden.
When he rounded the second turn into the recesses of the club, she was gone. The place was like a fucking labyrinth with sharks at the center. A door clapped shut. He flattened his palm against it and pushed, walking into a locker room and not giving a shit it was the one reserved for women. He closed the door behind him and flipped the lock in place.
Alessandra spun around, stunned. “What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you.” He moved across the room in deliberate strides. “And I didn’t think you’d appreciate me strolling up to your parents’ table.”
“So you thought you’d follow me into the locker room?”
Hudson came to a stop in front of her. “Whatever it takes, Alessandra.” He inhaled. God, he loved her smell. Clean and fresh with a slight hint of flowers.
She blinked up at him. “For what?”
“For you to admit there’s something between us.” He hadn’t been able to get their kiss out of his mind. Her mouth had been unbelievably sweet, and so soft. Softer than he remembered.
Alessandra opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. Her eyes narrowed. “How did you even get into the building? This is a private club.”
“I’m considering a membership.”
“Really? To a North Shore club?”
He smirked. “I heard they have a world-class golf course.”
“You golf?” She asked with a nervous laugh.
“Quite well. Smooth grip of the shaft, careful stroke.” His voice was deep and resonant. “Perhaps I can show you just how good I am, Alessandra.”
She glanced over his shoulder at the door, then back at him. “You need to leave, Hudson.”
“You can’t ignore what happened. Not this time.” He brushed his fingers against her cheek.
“It was a mistake, that’s all.”
“Your body says otherwise.” He stepped closer and heard the catch in her breath.
“This is hardly the time or place to discuss it,” she said, her voice wavering.
“Then when?”
“I don’t know.”
There wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to let her blow him off. “If you want me to leave you’re going to have to do better than that.” His mouth curved into a sensuous grin. “Unless, of course, you want me to stay?”
“Next week,” she blurted out.
“No. Try again.”
“Fine, tomorrow. Just go.”
“Where?”
“Lincoln Park Zoo,” she said, exasperated.
Hudson drew back a fraction and looked down at Allie with a whole lot of what-the-fuck on his face. “The zoo?”
“Yes, I’ll meet you at noon, just inside the main gate.”
“You’re afraid to be alone with me, aren’t you?” His index finger traced the vein pulsing wildly in her neck.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She looked over his shoulder again. “Now will you please go before someone walks in?” Allie’s gaze shifted back to him, but her stare didn’t match the icy tone of her voice.
Hudson’s mouth hovered inches from hers. Allie moistened her lips and as she did, he thought maybe she was right; maybe she shouldn’t be alone with him. With the way he was feeling he was liable to take advantage of her slightly parted mouth. He knew she wouldn’t stop him if he kissed her. And he wanted to, more than his next breath.
He had to stop.
Boy did he ever.
“Until tomorrow.” He brushed the pad of his thumb across Allie’s bottom lip before strolling out the door without a backward glance.
Hudson walked halfway down the corridor before he stopped. He ran a hand back over his unruly hair and buttoned his jacket to hide the erection threatening the front of his Tom Ford.
Yeah, he needed to get the hell out of there.
Falling back into stride, he headed for the exit. The powder room door swung open as he passed and out trotted the two women in head-to-toe Chanel. Hudson flashed them both a grin. “Ladies,” he said with a slight dip of his head.
His phone vibrated just as he handed the valet his ticket. Reaching into his breast pocket, he yanked his phone out and immediately recognized the number of a shithole on the other side of town. The guy who ran the place probably had him on speed dial.
“Chase,” Hudson barked into the phone.
“You better get over here,” a man rasped, his voice the product of sucking on cigarettes for thirty or forty years.
Hudson blew out a resigned breath. “I’m on my way.” He ended the call with a jab of his thumb and tucked the phone back into his pocket.
The valet pulled up with his car, a gunmetal gray Aston Martin DB9. At top speeds the thing looked like a bullet shot out of a gun. Hudson palmed the kid a tip, unbuttoned his jacket, and slid into the car.
As he pulled out into the Chicago traffic, he wondered what he’d find waiting for him this time.
***
Thirty minutes later, the DB9 rolled to a stop in front of Anchors. The dive was even shittier than Hudson remembered.
He knew who was waiting for him inside, what condition the “who” would be in, and how this shit was going to play out. The only thing that was ever a variable was the when.
The DB9’s cooling system ticked and hissed, cutting through the silence in the car.
Fuck.
This was the last place he wanted to be.
Hudson curled his fingers around the door handle, jerked the lever, and unfolded himself from the luxury craftsmanship. He shoved the key fob into his pocket, not bothering to activate the alarm. This would only take a minute. Besides, anyone who’d try to take his car for a joyride had to have balls of steel. The thing was fashioned with one hell of an antitheft system and GPS. The little blue light flashed “I dare ya.”
Hudson walked over to a door that looked like it had once been dark green, and cranked a knob for which he was going to need a tetanus shot .
At the bar the owner pulled his attention away from a long pour of something straight. He didn’t need to look to know when to stop; the guy just knew. Skills of someone who’d been slinging drinks as a career.
Setting the bottle back in its trough, the owner took out the cigarette that was pinched between his lips and exhaled. The smoke rocketed out of his nose in two streams before curling upward. Hudson kicked his chin at the guy, then did a fat sweep of the room, spotting Nick hunched over a table. Out cold.
Cursing under his breath he cut through the bar, skidding a couple chairs out of his way as he passed a jukebox bellowing some Johnny Cash tune. As he drew closer he could see the top of Nick’s wallet, the leather one he’d given him last Christmas, peeking out of his shirt pocket. At least someone had had enough decency to put it back and not rob the guy completely blind.
A soft snore greeted him. Shit, he was totally wasted.
“Hey, Nick.” Hudson’s palm clasped Nick’s shoulder and he gave him a gentle shake. “Come on, let’s go.”
Nick lifted his head, his eyes half-closed, and smiled. “Hudson, my favorite brother.”
“Your only brother. You’ve worn out your welcome.” He grabbed Nick by the armpit and hauled him out of the chair. “Time to go home.”
“One for the road?” Nick slurred as if his tongue was too big for his mouth. He tugged his arm out of Hudson’s grip.
“We’ll get one on the way.” Fucking hell they were.
Hudson’s face was drawn with grim lines as he watched his brother take a couple steps, then go tilt-a-whirl. He caught Nick by the bicep, his weight barely registering.
He guided Nick toward the front door, his legs pretty much gone to rubber, and somehow managed to keep him from face-planting. Pulling a Ben Franklin out of his pocket, Hudson slapped it on the bar and slid it toward the bartender. “Thanks, man. That should cover it.”
The owner dried his hands off on a rag, then dropped it on the counter and picked up the hundred. “Don’t mention it.”
Hudson pushed the door open with his hip and dragged Nick over to the DB9. He lowered him into the passenger side, stretched the seat belt across him, and clicked it in place.
Nick opened his eyes. “Shit, you brought the good car.”
Ignoring Nick, Hudson didn’t waste any time getting behind the wheel. Nothing but the purr of the engine interrupted the silence that stretched out between them as he drove. And as it did, Hudson looked over at his brother; Nick’s head jerking up and then falling back again. “I saw her, Nicky,” he finally said. Man, it’d been so long since he’d talked about her. Make that never talked about her.
Nick’s head jerked up. “No shit?”
His head fell back again. The guy was starting to look like a goddamn bobblehead. “All that pussy you get and you’ve still got it bad for that one, huh?”
More silence.
“I liked her.” Nick’s voice was quiet in the darkness of the car. “She was nice to me.”
The lights from oncoming cars flared and faded. They passed squatters in alleys. Then tall buildings.
“And you . . .” A teasing laugh burst out of Nick’s mouth. “You were so whipped for that chick.” His head rolled on the padded headrest. “What was her name again?”
Hudson glanced briefly at Nick. “Alessandra Sinclair.” He paused, then looked back at the road. “Allie.”
Nick clapped his hands, having a eureka moment. “Allie, that’s right. All the stupid shit you did to try and impress her.”
Hudson’s jaw tightened.
“Pussy whipped motherfucker. Tell me you hit that?”
“Shut up, Nick,” Hudson growled. “And don’t puke in my car. Took me forever to get that smell out last time.”
Chapter Seven
Allie couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to Lincoln Park Zoo. When she was eight or nine, maybe? For the life of her, she couldn’t imagine what had made her choose it as a meeting place. Harper had been talking about the fund-raiser there with Neon Trees; maybe that was it. Either way, she’d been so flustered by Mr. Sex-on-Legs that she’d blurted it out and now, against her better judgment, she was standing in front of the main gate.
At least it was a relatively safe place to meet. Despite being nestled in the shadow of the city’s skyscrapers, the zoo wasn’t exactly the type of place her friends and family frequented. She pulled her sunglasses out of her purse and slipped her cardigan off, tying it in a loose knot around her shoulders. It was the end of September, but unseasonably warm in Chicago.
She took a deep breath and smoothed the wrinkles out of her charcoal-gray pencil skirt. Might as well get this over with.
The zoo was busier than she’d expected. For a moment Allie wondered if she should have been more specific with her instructions, but it didn’t take long to find him. In a sea of strollers and school children, it wasn’t hard to pick the billionaire CEO out of the crowd. He was standing by the seal pool, his back to her, looking every bit the powerful executive. In his navy-blue pinstripe suit, Hudson towered over the toddlers who stretched on tiptoes for a better view.
Her gaze slid over his muscular frame. She knew exactly what it felt like to have that hard body pressed against hers, and every image evoked a memory. Her fingers winding through his unruly hair. Her hands raking over his broad shoulders. Her heels digging into his firm ass.
Snap out of it, Sinclair.
Hudson turned around as she approached. Damn. The view from the front was even more devastating than the rear.
“Hey,” he said, running a hand back through his hair. “Thanks for coming.”
As if she’d had much choice. “I couldn’t risk you showing up in locker rooms all over Chicago.”
“Or just the ones north of a certain street?”
Allie stiffened. How dare he insinuate that she only frequented certain parts of town? She was about to counter his ridiculous claim when one of the gray seals splashed out of the water. Pointing his nose to the clouds, he stretched his mouth open wide and barked at the sky. The sound was deafening as it echoed off the rock formations.
Hudson glanced over his shoulder. “Christ, helluva spot you picked.” Firmly cupping Allie’s elbow, he led her away from the pool and past a vendor selling popcorn out of what appeared to be a small red fire truck. She watched as Hudson surveyed the area before dragging her under a shady tree near the lion exhibit.
“Why are we here?” she asked, stuffing her sunglasses back in her purse.
Hudson smirked as he leaned his hip against the railing and crossed his arms. “You have a fondness for exotic animals?”
She was not amused. Much. “I mean why were you so hell-bent on seeing me?”
“Because you owe me. I know how you like to cut and run, Alessandra. But not this time.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play fucking coy, acting as if nothing happened in my office the other night.” His tone turned sensual. “You were right there with me.”
Allie’s mouth opened on a small gasp. How her traitorous body had responded to his that night was irrelevant. They were in public. Someone could have heard him, for God’s sake. She glanced around nervously and was relieved to find only a squirrel within earshot. “Lower your voice, please.”
His eyes narrowed. “Right, same with all you debutantes. Taking a walk on the wild side is the perfect rebellion against mommy and daddy, just so long as no one finds out about it.” He pushed away from the rail, looming over her at full height. “Does dark and dangerous add to the thrill? Does it turn you on?”
Allie blanched but held her ground. What she’d felt for Hudson all those years ago was real, and her heart had the scars to prove it. She wasn’t about to let him reduce it to nothing more than a rebellious fling. “It was never like that and you know it.”
“Actions speak louder.”
His words were scathing but Allie saw some unknown emotion cross his face. Was it pain? Sorrow? She couldn’t say for sure because as quickly as it appeared, it vanished.
“And you sure as hell didn’t want your parents to know you’d been slumming it with me, did you? You wouldn’t even look me in the eye that last night on the boat, the same boat where you’d been half-naked under me the night before.”
His words were like a cold, hard look in the mirror. The reflection staring back at her might have only been seventeen, but it didn’t excuse the way she’d acted. Hudson was right; it was shameful the way she’d ignored him that night. It was something she had always regretted.
“Instead you latched on to some pansy-ass bastard.” Hudson let out a harsh laugh. “Way to shrivel a guy’s balls right up.”
Latched on? Allie had no idea what he meant.
High-pitched squeals surrounded them as a field trip of preschoolers was suddenly everywhere. The children pushed and shoved each other out of the way as they vied for a better view of the lions, leaning over the railing and roaring at the top of their lungs.
“Fuck, are we the only people here over three-feet tall?” Hudson stalked away from the exhibit.
“Who are you talking about?” she asked, struggling to catch up to him in her three-inch heels.
Eyes forward, he never broke stride. “The prep in the summer whites. Hell, the guy looked like he was afraid he’d wrinkle. Your parents must have been so proud.”
Allie reached for him. “Hudson, stop.” His gaze darted to where she’d grabbed his arm and she withdrew her hand. “I wasn’t with that boy. He was the son of my dad’s friend, not my date.” She swallowed, shoring up the courage to offer an apology that was ten years too late. “But yes, I was horrible to you that night. I panicked, and I’m sorry.”
He threw it right back in her face. “And in my office, more panicking?”
“No.”
Hudson stared at her. Allie knew he was waiting for her to continue, to offer some sort of explanation, but she had no idea what had come over her in his office that night. How the hell was she supposed to explain it to him? Silence stretched between them until Hudson offered up a theory of his own.
“I see. So you make a habit of sliding underneath donors? Sharing is caring and all that. Hell of a motto, Alessandra. No wonder the project is ahead of schedule.”
Tears stung her eyes and she bit down on the inside of her cheek.
Don’t you dare let him see you cry.
“You’re right. A lot has changed in ten years. You’ve turned into a bitter asshole. Good-bye, Hudson.”
She made it all the way to the cab before the first tear fell.