Текст книги "All of Me"

Автор книги: Kelly Moran

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

chapter

sixteen

Alec had been surprised by Faith’s request to visit the 9/11 Memorial, but he shouldn’t have been. Someone like her would want to pay homage to the lives lost and pay her respects. That was just the way she was built. Sure, she’d have an interest in fine art or other attractions—she’d be interested in anything—but it said a lot about her that she wanted her first stop to be a place of such terrible loss.

They hadn’t said a word while they were there. Alec had moved to New York a good five years after the attacks on the World Trade Center and hadn’t visited the memorial himself. He’d watched her and the myriad of emotions that splayed across her pretty face before they moved on to walk down the street.

He’d been watching her since the airport. Something was different about her today, and he couldn’t figure out what. She wasn’t one to chat endlessly, but she’d been even more quiet than usual. He wondered what gears were turning in her mind.

Didn’t matter. He liked looking at her. Could do it all day. She was an interesting conundrum and atypical of the female species. Alec figured the day he’d get a handle on her, he’d discover a rash of new qualities to trip him up all over again.

Faith Armstrong was something special. And she was getting to him.

Holding her hand, he walked into the deli he’d discovered his first year in the Big Apple and grinned at Zelig, who was behind the counter. He and his wife had started the business more than forty years ago. The place was still busy as hell. The scents of fresh bread, cabbage, and corned beef hit him at once. Zelig was a large, robust man, but his black hair had grown more and more gray since Alec last saw him.

“Alec!” Zelig shouted, wiping his large hands on an apron. “Long time no see. How are you?” He came around the counter and wrapped Alec in a hug.

“I’m great, thanks. This is Faith.”

“Faith,” he repeated, hugging her, too. “Pretty name for a pretty lady. What can I get you two? Anything you want.”

Faith smiled at Alec and shrugged. “What do you suggest?”

Alec barked a laugh. “Everything.” He turned to Zelig. “Give us the tabbouleh platter with the pita and chocolate babka for dessert.”

“You got it!” Zelig jerked a thumb at Alec and addressed Faith. “This one here can eat me out of babka.”

When Zelig went back behind the counter, Alec found a corner booth and slid into it across from Faith. “Wait until you try their food. It’s an orgasm in your mouth.”

Faith laughed, the skin around the corners of her eyes crinkling. “I believe you. How’d you find this place?”

After Laura’s accident, he’d been wandering around the city trying to ease the guilt and stumbled into the deli late one night. Zelig fed him some chicken soup and sourdough bread, saying nothing about closing time to an obviously distraught Alec.

Alec shook his head. “Don’t remember, but I’m glad I did.”

Her amber eyes told him she didn’t believe him, but she let it drop. “When we walked in, that was the first time I’ve seen you smile or laugh since we landed.”

Observant, wasn’t she? “I have a love/hate relationship with the city.”

Before he could clarify, Zelig brought their order. “The babka’s coming. You want a loaf of cinnamon to take home, too? For breakfast?”

Alec grinned. “That would be awesome.”

With Zelig gone, Alec spread some of the tabbouleh onto a pita wedge and held it up to Faith’s mouth.

She glanced at the tomato, roasted peppers, and herb combination before opening her mouth. She bit down and moaned. “That is good.”

“Told you,” Alec said. “I’d mention the corned beef was to die for, but you wouldn’t eat it.” Not with all the healthy consumption rules she lived under. Now that he knew part of her story, he couldn’t blame her.

“In moderation is okay. Maybe we can try it next time.”

Next time. There would be no next time. They were in New York for one night and then heading back to Wilmington. Where she’d stay. And he’d eventually leave. An ache formed in his gut. Heartburn, he figured.

Like she was so apt to do, Faith changed to a safer subject. “What can I expect from this party tonight?”

God, he wanted out of it. Wanted to take her back to his apartment and drive her as insane as she was making him. Repeatedly. All damn night long.

He loaded more tabbouleh onto a pita wedge for himself. “A lot of people, for one. The publicists and editors will have the press there. After some schmoozing, I’ll read a passage from the book and then do a signing. It’s really an excuse to make the publisher feel important. Drinking, socializing. You know, torture for a writer.”

She grinned. “Should we develop a secret signal for when you want to escape? I could rub my ear and blink three times.”

He laughed. “Tempting.” Staring at her a moment while he chewed, he realized how uncomfortable she’d be as well. She didn’t seem fond of crowds. “I should’ve asked you before now. Will you be okay tonight?” He didn’t know how much attention he’d be able to pay her once the throng arrived. The last thing he wanted was to drag her all the way to New York only to ignore her after dumping her in among strangers.

The look she gave him was long and impossible to read. After a few moments, she blinked rapidly and took a sip of water. “I’ll be fine. Thank you for asking.”

What in the hell was that about? The tears. Or how close she was to tears anyway. “What’s wrong, Faith?” He tried for a gentle tone but his voice just came out gruff.

“It was nice of you to ask, that’s all.” She cleared her throat and glanced out the window before looking back at him. “I’ll be fine tonight. You do what you need to do and be the charming author. Don’t worry about me.”

The words were out before he could stop them. “Does anyone ever? Worry about you, I mean.”

Christ. She had no connections, no family back in Charlotte. Her parents showed her little affection. She barely knew what to do with herself when anyone paid her any kind of attention. And fuck . . . he was caring too much.

As if he could stop.

Her gaze lifted to his, her expression as shocked and hesitant as he imagined his was. Those amber eyes were filled with tears, but she seemed determined to fight them back. To her credit, and his peace of mind, she did. Her teeth worked her lower lip until the urge to drag her across the table and kiss her became almost too much.

Blowing out a breath, she broke the connection and stared at her plate. “What’s babka?” she asked quietly, fiddling with her napkin.

Alec had to swallow several times before speaking, and even then it hurt to force words out. “It’s a coffee cake type of bread. Dessert, sort of.”

She nodded slowly, still not meeting his eyes. Still looking hollow. She was too damn good for hollow.

“I worry about you.” All the time. All the damn time.

Her eyes pinched closed. “Don’t do that.”

“Faith.” He tried to take her hand across the table, but she pulled away.

“Stop it. Don’t act like I matter.”

Of all the damn things she’d said to him, this one took the cake. Hell, it took the whole bakery. Under the table, his fists clenched. “What does that mean? Of course you matter.”

Shaking her head, her jaw clenched. Her eyes flared with hurt and anger.

And it dawned on him maybe she didn’t matter to anyone. Before now. But he understood. Too well, he understood. Their relationship was temporary, and her mattering to him meant it would make things that much harder come summer’s end.

He sat back and scrubbed his hands over his face. He never should’ve gone down this road. All he’d ever done in life was screw up. People. Relationships. After Laura, he should’ve known better. Did know better.

“Do we have time for the Statue of Liberty before we have to get ready for the party?”

Face still buried in his hands, Alec laughed. It bordered on hysterical before he managed to rein it in. “Sure, Faith.”

*   *   *

Faith stared at her reflection in Alec’s bathroom mirror, trying to take control over the sudden onslaught of emotions. She gripped the sink and drew in a haggard breath. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. They were supposed to come to New York, have a great time, and leave. They were supposed to finally have sex, with no serious emotions involved, and enjoy themselves.

But Alec kept screwing with her head every time the conversation turned slightly personal. Kept saying sweet, endearing things as if he cared about her. He didn’t, though. He’d said it himself. He’d been engaged once before and it was not an experience he’d repeat. She suspected there was far more to the end of the relationship than he let on, especially if he wasn’t capable of opening himself up again, but that wasn’t any of her business.

Straightening, she looked at herself. She’d pinned her hair up in a twist both for elegance and to keep it off her face. Her makeup was minimal, just enough to accentuate her assets. The small pearl drops in her ears matched the necklace. It had bothered her to take off Hope’s charm, but she reminded herself she could put the chain back on right after the party.

Smoothing her hand down the dress, she nodded. Lacey had been right. The yellow strapless bra-and-panty set was perfect. It didn’t show beneath the black dress, nor were the seams obvious. The dress tied round her neck, fitting snug against her chest and hips before flowing loosely to her knees. Plus, for a cocktail number, it was pretty comfortable.

She hoped Alec liked it. Enough to want to take it off later.

Shaking her head, she stepped into the low black heels Mia had lent her and forced herself to leave the bathroom.

Alec was waiting in the living room, thumbs flying over the keys of his phone as he texted someone. He looked different in a suit. More businesslike and less like himself. It fit him perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders and narrow hips. The charcoal gray went nicely with his eyes. Under the jacket, he wore a crisp white button-down shirt, no tie.

She imagined running her hands down his chest, popping the buttons one by one until she could push the fabric from his shoulders and kiss her way lower . . .

Alec glanced up from his phone and did a double take. “Damn, Faith. You look . . . lovely.”

She glanced down at herself and back to him. “So do you. Handsome, I mean. You look handsome.”

Desire shone in his eyes, burning a path from her toes to her face as he looked his fill. Pocketing his phone, he stepped closer, a wicked half smile crooking his mouth. He slid his hands around her back and tugged her close. “You smell good enough to eat.”

Her pulse went crazy. “Um . . . thank you?”

He amped up the wattage of his grin. “You’re welcome.”

Dipping his head, he kissed her. Just a brush of his lips, but her legs nearly buckled. His heat and scent enveloped her. Her breathing hitched. She needed him, more of him, tonight. It had never been like this before. She’d been attracted to other men, but nothing like this. Thinking was moot when Alec was around.

And that just served to prove she needed to follow through on their affair. At twenty-seven, she’d barely lived her life. It was time. Where she found the courage, heaven knew, but she did and she was going to enjoy it. However long it lasted. She was going to go all-out crazy and dive into a fleeting, dangerous affair with the likes of Alec Winston, and they were going to have some between-the-sheets time.

Gasping, she pulled back to look at him. She had never known this kind of yearning, this fanatical desire, and it had her rattled and reaching for logic. “You . . .”

“Yes?” he murmured, closing his mouth on the skin of her neck. “What about me?”

Her belly quivered. Heat pooled between her legs. “Um . . . I forgot.”

He laughed and stepped away. “Just as well. We need to get going.” His slow, steady gaze drifted down the length of her and back up, a routine habit of his, it seemed. “But later, Faith, I’ll make sure you’re unable to think at all.”

Yes. Okay. Perfect. She could stand mindless. “Promise?”

Closing his eyes, he groaned and turned for the door. “Cross my heart.”

The ride to the hotel where the event was to take place took only about twenty minutes. They didn’t say much on the way. Alec appeared calm on the surface, but his hands were clenched and every few seconds he drew in a deep breath that expanded his wide chest, as if remembering to inhale. Apparently this wouldn’t be much of a party for him. In his world, he had to do book signings and show the face behind the cover on occasion, but he obviously didn’t like it. Faith figured he’d rather be at home with his imaginary characters than with three-dimensional ones in a crowded room. How interesting that he lived in New York, where one couldn’t breathe without sharing air.

They pulled up to a beautiful old hotel where the driver stepped around to open her door. Alec had hired a car for tonight. It only illustrated the vast differences between them. She slid from the seat and stared at the building. Above a green awning, white stone and a wide, carved frieze rose to the sky. At street level, flower boxes were overflowing with color and variety.

Alec took her elbow and walked her forward, where an attendant held the door for them. “Showtime,” he muttered.

The lobby spoke of old money and prestige. A high crystal chandelier rose overhead and the floors beneath them were black marble. Mahogany woodwork was polished to gleaming and expensive art decorated the walls.

Her heels clicked on the floor as Alec directed her to a ballroom to their left. Her steps faltered when she noticed how many people were there. Two hundred, at least. To the left was a bar and to the right a buffet table. The spread looked too pretty to eat. Ahead, people walked around a display of Alec’s books.

So this was his world. Faith didn’t belong here. She’d never felt so out of place. Then again, she’d never felt particularly in place either. But this . . . this was way out of her element. She had the fancy dress and matching shoes. Her hair was up and her modest jewelry in place. Yet she wondered how quickly they’d see through her. These people with their diamonds and designer suits.

Alec took two flutes of champagne off a tray and passed her one. “Drink this fast. I’ll get you another one to sip slowly after.” His hand slid from her elbow to her waist and held her to his side. The move was possessive, a claim that she was with him.

She resisted the urge to rest her head on his shoulder and hide in his familiarity. “Why do I need to drink this quickly?”

He turned his head and offered the faintest of smiles. “You’re nervous. It’ll help.” To demonstrate, he downed his glass in one swallow and set it on a tray as a waiter passed. Without missing a beat, he swiped another full glass.

Knowing he was uncomfortable as well didn’t soothe her nerves much, but she did as he instructed and drank the champagne. The sweet bubbles floated down her throat and heated her stomach.

Alec took her empty flute and handed her a full one. “Just sip that one until we can get some food in you. Come on, I’ll introduce you to my editor.”

Over the next hour, she stood by his side, mostly quiet and feeling like arm candy, but that was fine. He was the star and she wasn’t comfortable in the crowd. If Alec was uneasy, he hid it well. He laughed and discussed literature with people whose names she’d never remember. Occasionally she piped in when cued, although the company appeared uninterested in her comments.

When he was distracted, Faith slipped away from Alec’s side and made her way over to the display to get some breathing room. Feigning interest in the books and posters, she eyed the items on the table and drew in a slow, deep breath.

While she was checking out some of the swag, a hand at her lower back startled her, and she whirled, nearly sloshing her champagne onto the man in front of her.

He held up a hand and chuckled. “Sorry, miss.” The man reeked of cologne and his girth was busting out of his blue pinstriped suit. A pudgy hand ran over his sleek black hair to smooth it down.

Faith slid a glance over at Alec, but he was deep in conversation and didn’t see her. Her stomach flopped and twisted, but she forced a smile. “That’s okay. You just startled me. Are you here for the signing later?”

He laughed without mirth. “I’m Alec’s agent.”

Her smile slipped a fraction at the condescending tone. She swore Alec had said that he’d fired his agent, but Faith kept that to herself. Maybe she was wrong. “Good turnout.”

“Winston draws a crowd, that’s for sure.” His dark brown gaze raked over her chest before traveling back to her eyes. “And who are you, exactly? Your accent is southern.” He made it sound like being from the south was distasteful.

The guy made her skin crawl. “I’m a friend of Alec’s.”

“A friend, eh?”

Before he could say any more, Alec sidled up beside her and wrapped his arm around her waist. “I see you’ve met Henry, my former agent.”

When Alec stressed “former,” Henry’s eyes narrowed. “You find another agent yet, Winston? Although I suppose that would mean you’d need to actually write another book.”

Alec stiffened beside her, and Faith had the overwhelming urge to defend him. Weren’t agents, even former ones, supposed to be supportive?

She lifted her chin. “He’s already more than halfway through the next book. He’ll be finished in under two months.”

Henry darted his gaze between them. “And how would you know that, miss? He doesn’t let just anyone read his manuscripts.”

“I never said I read it. But I have seen him working on it.”

Henry’s brows rose. “Have you?” He looked at Alec. “You let your newest plaything near your material? You’ve never let your toys anywhere near your apartment. What gives?”

Alec growled low in his throat. “Watch yourself.”

Henry took no heed of Alec’s warning. In fact, he looked at Faith as if trying to dissect her and find the missing element. “Not like you to bring a date to these functions. She doesn’t look like your usual.”

Alec took a step forward, but Faith gripped his arm and he got himself in check.

“I told you, I’m a friend,” she said.

Henry snorted. “Sure, sweetheart.” He waved his hand to dismiss her. “You’re all friendly until you learn he won’t commit. Then you run for the next wallet. Ain’t that right, Winston?”

The arm around her waist tightened further. “Enough, Henry. She’s different, not that it’s any of your business anymore. Leave her be.”

Faith watched the interaction, her unease growing. Alec’s agent was probably throwing barbs as a response to Alec letting him go. Between the books and movies, Alec had no doubt made the man a pretty penny. Losing that solid income would raise anyone’s hackles. There was no sense in feeding into his bitterness.

Slowly, she ran her hand under Alec’s open suit coat and rubbed a circle over the tense muscles coiling in his back. “Let’s go grab a bite to eat before your reading, shall we?”

Henry didn’t take the brush-off. “Different? How different can she really be with your fiancée still around? Odd threesome that would make.”

Alec went so still Faith thought he would snap. Panic rose in her chest. She’d never seen him angry, not like this. Irritated, perhaps. There was no way for her to gauge how he’d respond to this latest jab, or how he typically behaved when angry. His previous engagement was already a sore spot. Why did Henry feel the need to pick at that scab?

She struggled to diffuse the situation. “I think you mean ex-fiancée, Mr . . . ?”

“Swift. The last name is Swift.” His gaze narrowed before he harrumphed. “Ex? Is that the line he fed you?” He barked out a laugh. “I assure you, he’ll never leave her.”

The room froze. Or seemed to. Maybe it was just her.

As the words sank in, her gaze flew to Alec’s. His wince was confirmation enough of the accusation. Alec stepped forward, apology in his eyes, but at the same moment his editor crossed the room to intervene. Words were exchanged.

Faith barely noticed what happened in the next few moments. Voices blended together. Air trapped in her lungs. Her temples throbbed. She took several steps backward until she bumped into a waiter.

“Sorry, ma’am. Are you all right?”

She looked at the group of men in front of her, deep in a heated discussion, and then at the champagne in her hand, only half gone.

He’ll never leave her . . .

No. No, she wasn’t all right.

She placed a hand on her forehead to stop the spinning. What was she doing here? With Alec? A man who had so obviously lied to her. Had lied for several weeks. He’d told her the engagement was over. Had been for several years by the sound of it. Where was this woman if they were still together? Did she not care if Alec saw other women?

Oh, God. What if they had one of those relationships? An open one where they could sleep with other people?

Faith’s mouth dried to dust. Dear Lord, could she have been any more naive?

Stupid, stupid.

With a shaking hand, she set her champagne flute on the waiter’s tray and made the long, long walk to the door. Only a few people stopped their conversations to stare at her obvious haste. Most continued on as if nothing had transpired, as if she hadn’t just been betrayed in the worst imaginable way.