LOVING ED: A Billionaire Romance (NIGHT OF THE KINGS SERIES Book 11)

by Shayne Ford

  “You know it is,” he says irritated, giving me a side glance as well. “And just so you know, nobody likes the idea of other options. It’s not about those people. It’s about keeping them around. It sends the wrong message. It says that you’re not sure of the person that you have feelings for.”

  “You think that’s what it was? Me, not being sure of having feelings for you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “First off, we were on a break.”

  His finger flips up.

  “No. We were not on a break. You said you didn’t want to talk to me or have anything to do with me when I tried to reason with you that night at the bookstore.”

  I keep my mouth shut. I see where this is going, and how it’s spiraling down.

  It serves no purpose, so it’s better if I let it go.

  “You’re right,” I say.

  He looks at me again, briefly locking my eyes.

  “I mean it,” I say. “I didn’t keep him around because of that. I really like him as a friend, but I never thought about Elan as a rebound guy.”

  Silence grows between us.

  I look at my right, my eyes snagged by the streetlights.

  “I didn’t expect you to be here today,” I finally say. “I thought that you were still in LA.”

  He doesn’t comment, so I keep talking.

  “I met with James last night,” I say, looking at him this time.

  I expect a reaction, but he doesn’t flinch.

  “I know,” he says deadpan.

  That rubs me the wrong way.

  I pivot in my seat to face him.

  “So you knew I’d be showing up. Or you expected it at least. Possibly at the party.”

  “It crossed my mind.”

  He’s cold.

  I start fidgeting in my seat as if my clothes are suddenly too tight.

  “He gave me a lot of tough love. Like you, right now...”

  The car slows down as he gazes in my direction.

  His eyes dive deep into me, searching for a different kind of answer.

  “Did you expect something else?”

  “From him, no. From you, yes.”

  He spends one more moment looking at me before he shifts his eyes to the road.

  Moments later, he brings the car to a stop in front of a wrought iron gate that smoothly glides to the side.

  Slowly, he rolls his ride a slightly elevated terrain, lampposts glowing on either side of the road.

  Clusters of snow-covered trees outline the piece of land.

  Light spreads in the air in front of us as the car nears the top of the slope. I completely forget about our conversation when his house enters my line of sight.

  A two-leveled mansion with two wings and an impressive entrance sprawls in front of us. He brings the car to a stop feet away from the stairs.

  “Do you live alone in this thing?” I ask, tipping my chin down and my gaze up to get a full view of his place.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  I look at him, his expression unreadable.

  “No wonder you’re depressed. I’d be too,” I say, humor threading through my voice.

  A smile sprouts on his lips.

  “One of these days I might bring you here, and tie you to my bed to keep me company in perpetuity.”

  “You can’t live without my body?”

  “It’s your mouth I missed the most,” he says, cracking the door open and already stepping outside.

  I don’t move.

  He bends at his waist and looks at me.

  “Aren’t you coming?”

  A sly smile sits on my lips.

  He grins as well–– a wolfish smile.

  “I missed your mouth talking to me,” he says, and we both start laughing.

  I open the door as well as he walks around the car.

  He takes my hand and helps me out, his eyes going to my legs again.

  He purses his lips, smiling.

  “What is your problem, Ed?”

  “No problem. Aren’t you cold?”

  I wave him off.

  “You were hoping for an early spring, I guess,” he says as he takes my hand and walks me to the front door.

  “Sort of,” I say.

  We walk up the few stairs where he opens the door, inviting me in.

  A secret smile curves his lips.

  I take a few steps in, not knowing what to expect.

  I raise my gaze and instantly turn to stone as a sea of colors invades my eyes.

  My hands fly to my mouth, a gasp falling from my lips.

  “Oh. My. God...” I mutter.

  6

  THEA

  A room filled with candles and bouquets of pink and white roses sprawls in front of me, a path of petals showing the way to a round table set for two in the middle of the room.

  A bottle of champagne chills in the ice bucket while food, chocolate, and strawberries waiting for us on a side table.

  White drapes frame the ceiling height windows, the view of the backyard streaming in the soft lights flickering outside.

  Mesmerized, I look around.

  Framed large mirrors line the walls painted in a muted garnet red. A white rug sprawls on the expresso wooden floor, the glow of the candles reflected here and there.

  I turn to him.

  A soft smile curves his lips.

  “Were you expecting me?” I ask.

  He breathes out a soft laugh but doesn’t bother to give me an answer.

  Smoothly, he takes my hand and leads me upstairs, walking me to the master bedroom.

  The rooms we saunter through are tastefully decorated, speaking of a man with artistic taste, who enjoys solitude but also loves life.

  Spacious, the bedroom is furnished with a King size bed, a couple of armchairs and nightstands as well as a fireplace. It has a walk-in closet and a large bathroom.

  I follow him to the closet, my hand still locked with his. He pushes the door open and shows me in.

  Sharp looking suits, shirts, ties, and shoes fill the racks on one side, hangers with a few dresses line the other.

  “What is this, Ed?” I murmur, tearing my hand away from him and touching the dresses.

  Soft wool knits, chiffons, sequins, and silky jerseys brush my hand. Beautiful colors, from pastels to red and blacks, all pairing well with the color of my hair and eyes.

  “Are these for me?”

  “Since you are in the habit of ruining clothes, I thought that you should get a new supply of them. Just in case,” he says.

  For a moment, I look at him perplexed.

  He smiles, amused by my reaction.

  “You can try them on if you wish to change into something different before dinner.”

  I look at him, mouth agape.

  With that, he plants a soft kiss on my cheek and exits the room.

  Moments later, I’m still staring at the door.

  Seemingly, I know nothing about this man, and clearly, there is so much to learn.

  I finally turn around and check the clothes again.

  The selection suggests that he put a lot of thought into choosing them, aside from the fact that he wanted to send a message. What better way to point out that I acted childishly.

  I feel embarrassed and regretful. I also feel––and that’s a first, so much younger and inexperienced than him.

  Point taken, Mr. Preston.

  I swallow hard a couple of times before I go over my options and pick a pink sequined-wool knit dress with a scoop neckline, long sleeves, and zipper closure.

  In a drawer, I find matching lingerie and silky stockings. I shed the black clothes and put on the pink garters set–– the lacy panties, and low cut bra, as well as the dress and heels.

  Pleased with my new look, I study myself in the mirror.

  From my purse I fish out my eyeliner and mascara, highlighting my eyes before I paint my lips with a glimmering shade of nude.

  A different woman looks at me from the mirror. I
brush my hair and put a dash of perfume on my neck and wrists.

  I study myself again.

  “Hmmm... This looks much better.”

  A moment later, I spin around and make the trip back.

  I walk out of his bedroom, across the second floor, and down the stairs until I reach the first level.

  The mellow music guides me to the room where I find him standing. Close to the window, waiting for me. He pivots as I walk in, his eyes smoothly connecting with mine, a slow smile curving his lips.

  He takes me in, his gaze discreetly hovering down, over me.

  A few steps bring him in front of me.

  “Excellent choice,” he says with the most natural voice. “It looks great on you.”

  His words are soft and casual, yet his smile suggests much more.

  “You can say it,” I mutter, grinning as I slide into my seat.

  He bites back a knowing smile.

  “Say what?”

  “You’ve come a long way, Thea.”

  He laughs as he makes himself busy with the bottle of champagne.

  The fragrant, golden liquid rolls into the glasses.

  “Is that how you feel?” he asks.

  “It’s the truth.”

  “Hmm...”’

  His gaze slants down as he finishes pouring the champagne and slips the bottle back into the ice bucket.

  My eyes stay on his face, studying his eyes, and his amazing, incandescent smile.

  He lifts the glass. I do the same.

  “What are we drinking for?”

  His smile turns bittersweet.

  “An uncertain future?”

  My smile drops from my lips, the hand holding my glass descending for a moment.

  His eyes are diving into mine, speaking of the harsh reality. We are so far from making this work between us.

  I set the glass down without taking a sip. My hand slides off the table too, hiding in my lap.

  He places his glass down as well, his hand sliding to mine.

  Slowly, he tears it off my lap and brings it to his lips.

  He inhales my perfume from the small patch of skin at my wrist before he leaves a soft kiss on my palm.

  Our eyes lock as a quiet gasp rolls off my lips. He holds my eyes, my hand, and sure enough, he holds my heart.

  Smiling, he takes me in.

  I must look spooked and frightened–– desperate, perhaps. And why wouldn't I look that way? I’m all of that after all.

  He places another kiss on my palm, sending a shiver down my spine before he sets my hand down, holding it between his.

  “So tell me more about this program you were talking about.”

  My eyebrows flick, my lips trembling.

  “Program? What program?”

  A grin dissolves in his gaze.

  “Oh. Yes...” I mumble.

  I clear my throat.

  “The student program...” I say, a bit panicked.

  Looking down, I tear my hand away from his, and without waiting to clink glasses with him, I bring my drink to my lips and gulp half of it.

  He watches me in silence.

  “Yes. The program,” I reiterate, grappling with the effect of the alcohol and the cold reality. “It’s a foreign exchange student program, and, um... I’m...”

  I pause.

  He looks at me, waiting for more details.

  “I’m leaving next month,” I say in one breath.

  “Where?”

  “Istanbul,” I say curtly.

  He looks at me suspiciously.

  “You weren’t sure an hour ago.”

  “I am now,” I utter, sounding as if a bunch of nails fell into my mouth.

  A grin creases his lips.

  “Are you sure there is a program?”

  “Yes, there is.”

  “And you applied for it?”

  I nod.

  “Yes. A while ago.”

  And it’s the truth. I applied before I met him actually, but I never thought that I’d go through with it.

  For the longest time, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to leave, but now I am.

  His grin starts to fade away.

  “Is it because of me?” he asks, guarded.

  “There wasn’t only one factor, but yes. You are part of the reason.”

  “Why?”

  “Why not?”

  His features relax again, his eyes roving over me, analyzing me.

  He looks at me as if he’s trying to figure out of this is a different kind of game or a game at all.

  “Explain,” he says.

  “You’re leaving for Europe, so you’re going to travel a lot with your work and whatnot. I wanted to do something different as well. Experience a different culture, learn a new language, perhaps. Besides, I’m studying archaeology. Remember? What better place to study in that field than one of the areas with the best historical sites in the world.”

  “And you are planning on doing all that stuff while we are not together.”

  His words take me completely by surprise.

  I open my mouth and close it a few times. It’s the first time, I hear him talking about us being together, the circumstances in which he does it, far from perfect.

  I ponder for a few more moments before I answer.

  “Yes. Or no. It depends on a lot of things. As I said before I don’t expect anything from you,” I say, my words frosting his grin.

  Seemingly, I just stumbled upon a vulnerable spot.

  He tips his gaze down for a moment.

  I take another sip of champagne.

  “Where are you going to live?” he asks, lifting his eyes.

  “I don’t know. A dorm or something. I could rent a small apartment, but I’d rather live on the campus.”

  “Do you know anything about that campus?” he asks, not convinced that I’m serious about my plans.

  “Yes, I do. I’ll forward you the information that I have. Would that work for you?”

  I hardly suppress my sneer.

  He takes a long breath and lowers his gaze briefly before he speaks again.

  “I don’t want you to leave the country because of me.”

  “I’m not. I’ve planned this for some time.”

  “What about your cousin? Is she going too?”

  “No. She’s involved with someone new right now. I don’t think she’s interested in traveling at the moment.”

  He purses his lips, discontented.

  “What’s the problem, Ed?”

  I know what the problem is. I start to see it clearly now, and I wonder if we’ll ever be able to get over it.

  “Would’ve been better if I stayed home, and you moved away? Would have that worked for you?”

  Frustration beams in my voice, despite my effort to push it back.

  “It’s not about that,” he says with a softer voice.

  “What is it then?”

  “I’m worried about you,” he says, defusing the tension with a smile.

  “Why would you be?”

  “Not even a couple of hours ago, you were about to start a catfight in a public space dressed in a Halloween costume.”

  I tip my gaze down, grinning.

  “Well there will be no more catfights in the future because I will no longer be around,” I say jokingly, but my joke falls flat.

  He doesn’t crack a smile.

  “Seriously, now. You’re going to be on your own in a foreign country, a place you know nothing about.”

  “I’ll survive. I’m sure I’m not the first foreign student studying there.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  “Are you afraid that other men might find me attractive and make a move on me?” I ask, grinning flirtatiously.

  A smile creeps up his lips.

  “That’s always a possibility.”

  “I can say the same thing. I’ve heard that Monaco has beautiful women. Same goes for Prague, not to say that a certain dancer would be a flight away
from coming to see you. If there is anyone who should be worried about us being away from each other and whatnot, it would be me.”

  “It’s work, Thea.”

  “Same way it’s school for me. Besides, you can come and visit me.”

  He gives me a sizzling smile, observing me through his lashes.

  “Like a boyfriend of sorts?”

  “Like a friend,” I say curtly, putting him in his place.

  He purses his lips, annoyed, but I can tell that he enjoys it as well.

  Smiling, I point to his champagne.

  “You haven’t touched it,” I say.

  He swings a vacant stare to me, seemingly a lot on his mind.

  “Hmm...? Oh, yes.”

  His eyes shift to my glass. He notices that it’s empty, and promptly grabs the bottle and pours more champagne into my glass.

  This time, I’m the one who lifts it first.

  “What are we drinking for?” he asks as we clink our glasses.

  “Our friendship,” I say, boldly holding his gaze.

  EDWARD

  Soft pink petals lift in the air, slide onto the floor, and drift across the room, dragging a sweet fresh scent after them as I close the door and toss the car keys on the foyer table.

  The house feels cold. Colder than ever.

  Empty glasses sit on the dining table, chocolate crumbs on the plates, her perfume still scenting the air. If I stay still and listen, I can hear her voice echoing in the walls as well, mingled with the sound of wind blowing outside.

  I retrieve my phone from my pocket and check the last picture I took of her.

  She looked different this evening, more beautiful than ever and so mysterious, although the better words would be, no longer available.

  Thea Porter is no longer stumbling. She can stand her ground and fight back.

  She didn’t even come up with a strategy this evening. She played my hand, and turned the tables on me, flipping the situation around.

  She pushed the reset button, and we are now back to square one.

  What am I saying?

  It’s way worse than that.

  In the beginning, she was innocent and naive, but now she’s no longer that. She’s always had a hard time to hide the way she felt about me, but not now.

  Now she has no problem.

  My focus shifts to her photograph.

  A soft smile curves her lips, lighting up her eyes. Two slivers of blue sky, gleaming brightly against her raven hair.