Faces of Love

by Lily Orevba

  Because he knew that married or not, Gloria was and will always be a prostitute.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Get your slimy paws off of me!” Gloria hissed, jerking her hands away while trying hard to keep her breathing regulated.

  “Still feisty, eh?” Marcus said, a charming smile on his face.

  She eyed him, her eyes moving ever so slowly down the length of him: from his cropped brown hair, to his deceptive hazel eyes, to his grey suit, and all the way to his expensive boots. She frowned; it would seem that Marcus somehow managed to come across a few dollar notes. The last time she saw him, he was two sizes down his present size. Right now, his well-built physique was hard to hide behind that expensive suit and if she let herself dwell on it too much, then he looked breath-taking.

  But Gloria wasn’t in the mood to get drawn into Marcus and whatever it was he showed up for. She knew him well enough to know that keeping as much distance from him as humanly possible was the best way to keep one’s sanity.

  Turning around, she made to walk away when a firm hand took hold of her arm and pulled her back against Marcus’s solid chest.

  She felt his breath behind her ears, traveling slowly down her neck. Worst of all, she felt her body respond to the feel of a man against her. A month—the last time she had been with a man was nearly a month ago and Marcus’ closeness helped open a box of dark desires in her that was best left buried.

  “You’re not walking away from me, Gloria,” Marcus whispered against her hair.

  Her eyes quickly scanned the room, running over the horrified look on people’s faces as they stared at the unlikely couple.

  “Idiot!” she squeaked, pulling away. Turning to face him, she hoped with all her heart that her desire for Marcus was hidden behind her green eyes. “Stay away from me, Marcus.” She didn’t need him waltzing into her life and ruining her well-structured plan of getting her promised money and bolting.

  “I hear you are married now.” Marcus quirked a brow.

  She averted her gaze, his eyes pulling her in when she dared to look into them.

  “You hear a lot of things, Marc.”

  “But this one’s right, Sugar. You see, I saw you walk in here clinging to him.” Marcus let out a low chuckle. “Tell me, is it possible that the mister has no idea who you are? Or was he overly pleased with your skills in the be—”

  “That’s enough, you arrogant buffoon! Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

  “I’m afraid not, Gloria. I’m not excusing you unless you want your new husband to find out about your past?” Gloria’s eyes widened at his threat. He smiled. “Good, so I have the answer to that question; Howard Sullivan has no idea who he’s married to.”

  “I’m not easily threatened, Marc.” Gloria gritted her teeth, anger and the desire to plunge a knife into Marcus’ heart racking her entire body.

  “All I ask in return is to share your bed. Considering the burden of your secret I have to carry around, a man needs his compensation—”

  Before Gloria could stop herself, her hand was flying through the air and slamming hard against Marcus face.

  Smack!

  He must think her a fool to even consider threatening her. Marcus had no idea what Gloria was capable of and she couldn’t blame him because the last time he set his eyes on her, she was a foolish teenager who fantasized about him. Well, no more! Gloria Grande was a threat to many; nobody had the guts to threaten her! Least of all, Marcus. She had been willing to let his deceit and theft of a few years back go by without incidence, but if he was going to stand in her path, she’d mow him down. Nothing was coming between her and that three thousand dollars, least of all, Marcus!

  ***

  Howard found himself easily tiring of discussing his father’s shipping and mercantile business with the businessmen in the ball. But that wasn’t the reason he found himself strolling across the room—he missed Gloria. The fact that she wasn’t by his side, her hand tucked safely in the crook of his arm, left him feeling empty.

  He came to a halt before the entryway to the ball room, his eyes scanning the place for Gloria. He wondered if she’d love to have one dance with him before they head back to the estate.

  Was Gloria a good dancer? There were a lot of things he didn’t know about her, a lot he wanted to find out.

  It was the day she stripped before him that he finally realized what was missing in their relationship—intimacy. Beyond the physical, he needed to be intimate with her, to know her roots, her family, what she did for a living before they got married, whether or not she could dance, and what her favorite color was. There were many things he needed to know and perhaps if he got to know her, they would both grow to care for each other.

  His eyes finally came to rest on Gloria, her hand slamming against someone’s face. His eyes widened in surprise as he watched her glare at the man who stood before her.

  Upset, he walked over to the spot that had garnered many spectators. Had the monster laid a finger on Gloria? Did he try to be inappropriate with her?

  He should have stayed back. He saw the way the men in the ball watched his wife, their attention filling him with apprehension but he needed to leave Gloria’s side nonetheless. He didn’t think any of them would be bold enough to walk up to her.

  He came to a halt by her side and slung an arm around her waist, taking a battle stance against the man, who was probably two years younger than his twenty eight years. To his surprise, Gloria leaned into his embrace.

  He turned his attention to the stranger. “Is there a problem here?”

  The man offered a knowing smile, his lustful eyes never leaving Gloria’s. “You know where to find me.”

  Howard released Gloria’s shoulder and swung a punch, and before he knew what was happening, he was seated atop the offensive idiot, punching him.

  “Howard!” Gloria pulled his arm but he shrugged her off.

  What sort of man addressed the wife of another man as if she was a woman of loose virtue?! A woman to be disrespected?! Howard wasn’t going to stand for that.

  Certain that his blows would leave a scar, Howard released the stranger’s collar, wiped his bloodied knuckles on the man’s shirt, and rose to his feet.

  Turning to Gloria, he took hold of her arm and escorted her out of the doors, anger racing through his veins.

  ***

  Excitement exploded on Gloria’s insides, leaving her with the desperate desire to wrap her arms around Howard’s neck, and squeal. Throughout the ride home, she could hardly keep her mouth shut and her excitement down but she knew she needed to in order not to raise Howard’s suspicions.

  Marcus deserved it and more! Oh, the look of horror and utter pain on his face left her reeling in joy.

  The carriage came to a halt and Howard helped her climb down. She offered him a small smile once settled on her feet and they made their way in through the doors.

  The moment Gloria stepped in, she knew something was wrong. Other than the fact that Bradford, the butler, was missing in action, the house seemed unusually empty.

  Until she heard it. She turned to Howard, his expression informing her that he heard it too.

  In a few seconds, they were racing up the stairs in search of the source of the commotion. They came to a halt before Stuart’s bedroom door, dread filling Gloria. Howard pushed the door open and Gloria immediately recognized the screams.

  “Hannah!” Stuart yelled hysterically, his cries exhuming a box of horrid memories in Gloria that she fought every day to keep buried. “I’m not going anywhere until you bring my Hannah to me!”

  Gloria froze by the entryway, her eyes filling with tears as she watched him seated on the floor, knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around his knees as he rocked back and forth.

  “Father?” Howard’s whisper was filled with dread. But Stuart sat there, seemingly unable to see or hear anyone.

  “Hannah. Hannah. Hannah. Hannah,” Stuart muttered over and over to himself.

&n
bsp; Howard reached for Stuart but his effort was met with brash resistance.

  “Father?! What is this? What’s happening?” Howard turned desperate eyes to the household staff but everyone just stood aside.

  He didn’t know! The realization washed over Gloria. Howard didn’t know his father was sick. She knew Howard’s ignorance would cause him to make many mistakes when it came to handling Stuart so she straightened, wiped her tears with her palm and walked slowly toward Stuart.

  She went to her knees before him and ran a compassionate hand down his hair. He lifted a questioning gaze to her and in that moment, she almost didn’t recognize him. Where was the kind, brown eyed man whose gaze held so much wisdom in them? The man who convinced her to marry his son?

  “Stuart,” —she began, nodding her head while fighting to keep her tears at bay— “it’s me, Hannah, I’m here.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The glass went flying through the air and crashing hard against the wall, leaving a trail of whiskey on the wall before falling in shards on the wooden floor.

  Howard stood, his shaky hands running through his hair in wild frustration.

  “Parkinson’s.”

  Howard could still see the doctor’s face as he announced the reason for Stuart’s hallucinations. He could also see Gloria, on her knees before his father, her eyes bright with compassion. It was a part of her he hadn’t been privileged to see before. He had watched her smile and converse with his father as if she was Hannah. The scene had shaken Howard to his core.

  “I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do.”

  He picked up the decanter and threw it hard against the wall, his lips parting to release a frustrated groan.

  His father was dying!

  Tears ran unrestrained down his face. His father was dying and he was powerless to stop it. What hurt the most was the fact that Stuart knew of his failing health but failed to mention it to him. No, he shook his head. What hurt the most was his father swearing everyone who was privileged with the information, to secrecy.

  Every single one of them! All of these months, they kept it from him!

  He clenched his fist, his fingers pressing hard against his palm.

  With his eyes closed, he raised his head to the ceiling and let out an angry growl.

  So this was it? This was how things were going to end?! After losing a mother he didn’t dare allow himself to mourn, he was losing his father also!

  “You know, you’re supposed to drink that, not chug it down the innocent wall’s throat.”

  Gloria’s sudden appearance at the doorway caused him to jerk upright in surprise. He glanced at his wife who still had on her gown from the ball and while she appeared a little dishevelled, she still stood looking breath-taking by that doorway.

  She nodded to the wall, her eyes twinkling. “I’m sure I speak for the wall when I say it has had enough.”

  She took measured steps toward him. He watched her come to a halt before him, her green eyes seeming to have so much depth in them.

  He didn’t know why, but he wanted to wrap his arms around her and press his lips against her cherry colored lips. Perhaps it was because he needed her comfort. Or maybe he needed some semblance of love…

  He leaned forward, his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her against himself. Leaning down, he kissed her.

  He felt her clammy hand settle on his face, slightly stroking his cheek. Perhaps he might have been high on whiskey but he felt something pass from her to him and, while it was hard to believe—impossible even—he knew they connected, finally!

  ***

  Something exploded inside Gloria, its warmth spreading through every muscle in her body until it left her weakened and longing for no one else but Howard. It was a feeling that frightened her. Her walls were falling. They were walls she had lived many years building and now, they were falling down.

  She couldn’t let that happen! She panicked. Still, she felt herself lean further into him as their kiss deepened. She was a prostitute and she wasn’t allowed to feel. Men were objects she used to get to her goal. She too was an object to men; an object they used to satisfy their lustful desires.

  She’d satisfy Howard’s lustful desire, she told herself. Yet, she knew what she felt wasn’t lust.

  His hands reached for the lace of her of her dress and worked to loosen it. Gloria had never had a man help her undress. But she found herself letting Howard and she found herself responding to every kiss not out of obligation, but out of a longing deep down in her black, soiled heart.

  She couldn’t, she couldn’t be falling for a man, least of all, Howard. She was here for the money, not love.

  For the first time in her life, she found herself pulling away from a man. Hands sliding down his cheek, she pressed her palm to his chest and leaned back, ending the kiss. She was just inches away from his lips and she could still feel his warm breath caress her face. She stared into his eyes, its warmth pulling her in.

  She glanced down. “Your father is asleep now. It will be wise to keep him rested,” she whispered, before turning around and walking slowly out of the study.

  To her disappointment, he didn’t try to stop her.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Gloria hurriedly pushed her bedroom door open and slammed it behind her before leaning heavily against the door, her hand pressed to her pounding chest. She leaned her head back against the door and took deep breathes in a failed attempt to still her beating heart.

  What just happened? She was too frightened to let herself even consider the thought of the emotions that raced through her body as she was wrapped in Howards arms—the emotions that still raged on her insides as she stood alone in her room—afraid shed faint.

  She was a prostitute, not a wife and not a lover. She’d never love; she wasn’t allowed to love! No, what she felt for Howard could only be frustration and anger. She was frustrated he didn’t want her body and angry that she couldn’t get him to want it. But then he tried to take it tonight and she turned away.

  It was a pill that was hard to swallow. Gloria Grande turned away from a client!

  Her fingers balled around her dress, the neckline loose in her grip. A few seconds later and Howard would have taken her clothes off. Howard was in control this time, not her. She on the other hand, was too weak to do anything but want to get lost in his kisses.

  Releasing a frustrated breath, she pushed herself off of the door and began pacing.

  No, not Gloria! Gloria wasn’t a silly mess of emotions! Gloria wasn’t weakened by any man! Gloria was a prostitute!

  She came to a halt before the mirror and stared at her frenzied image. A stern look settled on her face as if to scold herself. “You, Gloria Grande, are a prostitute and I will be damned if I ever let you forget that!”

  ***

  Marcus flexed his jaw muscles, his fingers coming to rest slightly on his aching jaw as his eyes scanned his face. Frustrated, he swore under his breath.

  A knock on the door caught his attention. Irritated, he turned and strolled to the door and pulled it open.

  A smile replaced his frown as his eyes came to settle on the person who stood before him.

  “It’ll do you well to wipe that smirk off of your face, idiot. We have work to do.”

  He quirked a brow. No, he wasn’t expecting a visitor. At least, not tonight. Not with the way things turned out with everyone walking out of the room with a sore ego and a feeling of rejection and desperation. He had been desperate to get what he wanted simply because he knew he deserved it but the outright rejection had both surprised him and left him determined.

  Now, as his gaze ran over the person who stood before him, he knew he didn’t have to do anything. What he wanted had, by itself, walked to his front door.

  “Are you going to let me in or are you just going to stand there, Marcus?”

  “Of course not.” He smiled. “Come in, come right in.”

  ***

  “Name?” Howard’
s skeptical gaze perused the woman who sat across the table from him, a small smile on her face.

  “Alice Princeton. As it says right there in my résumé, I’m a registered nurse with absolutely no experience working in the hospital but I’ll tell you this, I have cared for sixteen sick people in my life time. You see, all fourteen of my siblings and both my parents came down with the flu—”

  “That’s not necessary, Alice.” Howard rubbed his brows. Having interview ten nurses that morning, Alice, the inexperienced nurse, seemed like the best bet. It wasn’t in her lack of experience; it was in her warmth and smile. He could see love radiate in those eyes but he wouldn’t jump into the decision of hiring her just yet. “If you’ll come with me” —he rose to his feet and stepped around the table— “I’ll like you to meet my father.” He held out his hand to her and she took it.

  Howard led Alice up the stairs and to his father’s room. All ten nurses met his father and while they all had experience in treating people, they found it difficult to deal with Stuart’s sour mood this morning.

  Stuart wasn’t hallucinating anymore and had no memory whatsoever of the night before. But Howard wouldn’t let him out his bedroom. Stuart was both raging mad and insulting but Howard didn’t care. It served his father right for trying to hide such a big secret from him.

  He took the keys from his pocket and unlocked the doors. He ushered Alice in. Stuart sat cross legged on a settee. His arms crossed as he looked out the balcony overlooking the landscape.

  “Father,” Howard called in greeting.

  “Finally decided to let this prisoner out, warden?” Stuart didn’t even turn to acknowledge him.