by Orla Bailey
Everything You Are
Orla Bailey
Everything for You
The Trilogy
#3
Jealous rivalry has wrecked all Tabitha’s dreams.
Unyielding, Jack is done with her. But she’s learnt a trick or two from the master.
Risking everything on the two things he can never resist – a good deal and what he can never get enough of – Tabby offers him a bold proposition.
She may be asking the impossible of this uncompromising man but this time karma’s a kitten… with claws.
Pomifera Publishing
Copyright © 2015 Orla Bailey
All rights reserved
Cover design by Melody Simmons
To those we love above everything
Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
The Trilogy
Chapter One
I’d know him anywhere.
His lips subdue the words I utter. My body tingles for want of him: his touch, his tongue, his insatiable need but I can no more attain that eternal paroxysm of bliss building in my belly than I can fly.
He fills the empty spaces in my mind, soul and fractured heart until my body cries out for him in the darkness but he isn’t there. He’s at the end of a long tunnel, looking back.
His words no longer soothe with promises of ‘soon’; yet his scent lingers, as familiar to me as my own senses. The landscape of my desire is a blue Arctic wasteland growing colder as my fever burns brighter, calling him back to me.
I am in hell.
“I love you. I bloody well love you.”
I cry out to him, tossed in a seething river of angry white foam; thrashing through treacherous, deep waters to find him. But he sinks beneath the surface into the treason of her siren arms. The tides run against me. The more I struggle to reach him, the more he is drawn further off.
So cold and lonely without him.
Yet the memory of his lush, demanding body urges mine to scope forth; to touch him, taste him, swell and open even if I cannot find him in these shadows. I am weighted down with want and need; heavy and bitter-tasting as sin.
I cry out his name. I cry out.
I cry...
* * *
“Hush now.”
My stomach lurches in dread. Someone is in the room with me.
I steel myself and prise open glued eyes but the lights are too dim to make out much. I snap them shut when panic engulfs me but then I detect the faintest scent of Clive Christian and my heart soars with relief.
I am no longer at the mercy of my attacker.
Jack is here. I’m safe. I only dreamt he walked out the door. He didn’t leave me all alone. The aching recollection of watching him go is only the remnants of some terrible nightmare.
Yet I feel no Sirocco. Can I no longer trust my own senses?
“Jack?” My throat is so dry, my voice cracks.
“It’s me, Miss Caid. Blackstock.”
Misery overwhelms me. I feel groggy and nauseous. My head pounds. “Mr Blackstock? Where’s Jack?” Why does the familiar scent of his cologne surround me if he’s not here?
“Mr Keogh asked me to take care of you, Miss Caid. I’ve to get you back to Belvedere as soon as you’re able.”
“Belvedere?” The horrible truth of where I am and what happened in this place crashes over me in sickening waves.
“Close your eyes, Miss. I’ll turn on the lamp.” I hear the faint click and see the flare of muted light behind my eyelids. “That’s better. You’re still in the hotel suite at Claridge’s. I thought it best to let you sleep it off for a while before I tried to move you.”
I grow slowly more aware of my surroundings. I’m in the king-sized bed where I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. Another wave of terror surges. I pant it away from me. I can speak now, I remember. I slowly try my limbs. They move. Memories surface as if from some distant foggy shore. Evil memories.
Of Jack’s anger. His hurt. Devastation. He left me. Jack left me. Oh God, Jack really left me. Tears well as I struggle to sit.
“Easy does it, Miss. I’ll phone down for some coffee. Get you sobered up a bit before we leave.”
“He drugged me.”
“Mr Keogh wouldn’t do that.” Blackstock sounds adamant. He’s totally loyal to his employer and I’m glad of it. Jack needs people he can trust around him. He thinks he can’t trust me. The hairline crack in my heart expands.
“Not Jack. That bastard who attacked me.”
Blackstock frowns, lifts the phone, presses a button and waits. “Room service? Could I get a pot of coffee sent up to the Prince Alexander Suite, straight away? Thank you.” He hangs up. “Won’t be long. A good strong cup of coffee will have you right again.”
Blackstock didn’t see the guy who attacked me and I don’t know how much Jack told him, but I expect he’s put two and two together and come up with five, as well.
I don’t have the strength to argue. “Thank you, Mr Blackstock.”
“Think nothing of it, Miss. We’ve all been there a time or two.”
He thinks I’m drunk. Will no-one believe I was drugged? “Where’s Jack?”
“He’ll be alright. Don’t you worry about him. Let’s just get you feeling better then take you home.”
Clearly Jack doesn’t want me to know where he is and I feel deeply hurt by it. I check I’m decently clothed, push back the covers and gingerly swing my feet to the floor. I’m wearing Jack’s jumper over my summer dress which explains the smell of Clive Christian cologne taunting me. It’s on his clothing. Jack really has gone, leaving only this ghost of his presence behind to haunt me.
“How long have I been out?” The worst effects of that awful semi-coma inducing drug seem to have worn off, leaving me with a headache.
“A couple of hours. I thought you’d manage better if I let you sleep it off.”
I remember throwing up. The soiled sheets have all been removed from the bed. Vomiting must have got the worst of the drug out of my system. I recall Jack bathing the vomit off me and dressing me and more tears threaten.
Blackstock moves in beside me when I try to stand. He holds out an arm and I take it. I’m still very feeble and unsteady on my feet.
“You were having some pretty bad dreams there. Crying out. But it’s over now.”
“I need to go to the bathroom.” It’s embarrassing to be so dependent on Blackstock but that Champagne and the water fed down my throat has left me with a bursting bladder. I suppose I should be grateful I haven’t abandoned my dignity entirely and peed the bed.
“Best not to lock the door, Miss. Just in case. I’ll be right outside if you need me.”
I shut the bathroom door but do as Blackstock suggests and leave it unlocked. I trust him. Jack wouldn’t leave me with anyone that would hurt me, no matter what he thinks I’ve done.
After using the lavatory, I wash my hands and face. Staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror I can see why everyone thinks I’m drunk. My eyes are glazed an
d bloodshot with dark circles beneath them; I’m unsteady on my feet; my skin is tinged with a ghostly pallor and my lips, tongue and throat are as pale and dry as brick dust.
Not that any of that matters. I wasn’t drunk. I was forcibly doped by a stranger but no-one seems to believe me. Amanda Devereaux made sure of that. She wants Jack for herself and so far she’s made a very good job of getting rid of me. Jack has no idea I came here for his birthday surprise.
Because there was no birthday surprise. Only a birthday kick in the teeth. A devastating lie.
Every time I close my eyes, I see Jack staring at me. That look of betrayal as he thought he was witness to my infidelity. Finding me naked, moaning and in the arms of another man, who could blame him? What he saw was nothing like catching me play-flirting with Laurent, or dirty-dancing with Luc. Not even like being forcibly kissed by Ben Gunn at the Commerce Ball. This was a swift bullet to his temple. A knife to his carotid. The heart torn out of him.
Remembering his promise to sever all ties between us as quickly and painlessly as possible, slices me in two. He thinks I deceived him to be with my lover. He thinks I wanted that man more than I wanted him.
My stomach pitches. A jagged rip cleaves my belly in two and I double over against the pain. Jack left me. The dam bursts.
There’s a tap on the bathroom door. “Are you alright in there, Miss?”
I sniff back my misery and swallow back the sobs until they choke me. “…Fine. Need… a minute.”
“No hurry.”
I blow my nose and splash my face with cold water then glare back at the pitiful ghost in the glass. This isn’t over. I have no intention of lying down and playing dead. I was foolish enough to trust Amanda once but I won’t make that mistake again. She not only tricked me, she tricked Jack too.
He said he loved me. I love you. I bloody well love you.
I will make him see the truth.
I’m pretty angry at him too, for believing his head and not his heart. But I love him more. I forgive him. Amanda is the enemy of us both. If she thinks she’s won, she’s mistaken. I’ll prove her lies. I’ll reveal her for who she really is: a devious manipulator who will stop at nothing to have Jack to herself.
Yes, I’m angry. And it feels good. It expands to fill the empty spaces inside me. That woman arranged for me to be held against my will and drugged, I’m convinced of it. Just like she arranged for me to be compromised by Ben Gunn at the Commerce Ball. She terrorised me to destroy my happiness with Jack and I won’t let her get away with it. He’s hurting now but somehow I’ll make him see the truth of it.
I return to the bedroom to find Blackstock pouring coffee into two cups. It smells enticing to my hollow stomach. I lower myself into a chair and he hands one across. My hand shakes a little, rattling the cup in its saucer as I take it.
“Careful there. It’s very hot.”
I need hot. I want to feel the scald on my lips, the searing heat firing its way down my throat into my belly. I welcome the pain that’ll dampen the devastation of Jack’s loss which is drowning me. I swallow it until my eyes sting with injured tears.
“Is Jack waiting at Belvedere?” Why didn’t he take me back with him? My fear is that he cannot bear to be near me.
“I don’t believe so.” Blackstock gives little away.
I sigh. I’ll drag it out of him if I have to. “Where is he then?”
“I’m not exactly sure, Miss.” His tone suggests it’s a futile line of questioning anyway. Jack doesn’t want to be found.
“He’s alone.” The thought slaughters me. I need to be with him. I need him to be with me.
Blackstock glances quickly at me over his cup then avoids my eyes.
A horrible thought strikes me. What if he’s run straight to Amanda? She’ll capitalise on her success to make him absolutely hate me. What if he’s erasing the pain of my betrayal, in her bed? Her body. I take another big gulp. I don’t care if I burn out my throat. Every part of me stings more.
If Blackstock has any idea where Jack is he’s not going to tell me. His loyalty is absolute.
“Have you worked for Jack long, Mr Blackstock?” He doesn’t look very much older than Jack. Mid to late thirties, I would guess.
“Since I left the forces. I went into private security and Mr Keogh head-hunted me when I worked a protection detail for him in the Far East.”
“You must be very good at your job.” My comment pleases him, I can tell. I attempt a gentle smile. “Only the best for Jack.” I’m the best for Jack. No-one loves him more than I do.
“I try to be.”
Having Blackstock on my side might prove a distinct advantage. “You must be. He trusts your discretion with good reason.” I come straight to the point. “Do you think I was drunk, Mr Blackstock?”
He looks at me warily. He clearly doesn’t want to be drawn into sides against his employer.
“The broken Champagne bottle and glasses and the empty miniatures from the drinks cabinet suggests someone was in here drinking. You definitely had alcohol on your breath, Miss Caid.”
I’m shocked by such candour. But he only gives me the facts as he knows them. It would seem Blackstock hasn’t been idle while I’ve slept. So that nasty bastard who drugged me emptied the liquor cabinet too? Either I was more out of it than I thought, as I don’t recall that happening, or someone had been in earlier and set the room up for this evil charade in advance of my arrival. Could that person have been Amanda?
“But?” I’m really hoping there’s a but to be had here.
He stares at me for a moment. Is he uncertain of the wisdom of saying what he thinks?
“I’ve seen quite a few who’ve had far too much to drink in my time; being in the army and all. And they don’t often sober up as sound as you have. Or as quickly.”
Thank heaven for cool logic. There’s a speck of a doubt in his mind. If only Jack’s emotions had been as disengaged. I give a bitter, silent laugh at the irony. That’s not what I want at all. “Do you have any explanation for that?” I may as well know what I have to counter.
“The truth?”
“All I’m trying to get at, Mr Blackstock.”
“Several possible explanations. You’re young. You have a good constitution. You recover fast from over-indulging.”
“Or?” I won’t accept it.
“You’re young and physically small. When you’re not used to drinking the effects take hold quickly without actually having drunk that much, so it wears off quickly too.”
“Drunk? I could hardly bloody move.”
“I noticed.” He sips cautiously at his coffee. He’s a prudent man. “It’s why I let you sleep it off. I think people might have noticed if I was dragging a young woman, who could hardly stand, through the lobby. That might take some explaining.”
“So how do you explain it… my condition?”
“Probably drugs.”
“Exactly.” I lean forward, slopping coffee in the saucer. Blackstock removes it from my hand and places it safely on the table. “I was drugged. Will you tell Jack, you think I was drugged?”
“If he asks for my opinion I’ll give it.” He refills my cup and hands it back to me, urging me to get more of a fluid he trusts inside me.
“Why do I sense another but coming my way, Mr Blackstock?”
He laughs. “You may have been drugged but you may equally well have taken the drugs yourself. People do.” He holds my gaze steady this time. “Sometimes narcotics have unfortunate effects.”
“I didn’t!” I surge forward in my chair, slopping coffee again.
Blackstock sighs, removes it from my hand and places it on the table once more. “Can you prove that?”
His question deflates me and I collapse back under the weight of the seemingly impossible task I have ahead of me. “No. I can’t.”
“Did you come here under your own steam? Did you lie to Mr Keogh about why you came here?”
Has Jack shared some of the circumstance
s with him already? “I have an explanation for all of that.”
He relaxes his severe expression. “I thought you might but you need to have this conversation with Mr Keogh, not with me. It’s not important what I believe.”
“It is to me.”
Blackstock observes me and I think I finally win him over with that last remark. He nods.
Leaning forward, he tops up my coffee cup again. “Get as much of that down you as you can. Caffeine can’t hurt whatever the reason for your condition. I’m going to take your things downstairs, settle any bill and instruct valet parking to bring the car round. Don’t leave this room. Don’t open the door to anyone. I have the key card.”
“Is that an order?” I sound peeved. Doesn’t anybody trust me?
“It’s an order.” He fixes me with a look I can only imagine he learned in the armed forces. He’s not messing about. Not about to defy Jack’s instructions either. I get the impression he’d take me back to Belvedere if he had to stuff me in a holdall and carry me there.
He has my bag packed already and leaves the suite swiftly.
I want to go to Belvedere. It’s the place I belong. It’s where Jack will return eventually so I can talk to him. But as soon as I’m alone I feel the awful weight of my precarious situation. What if Jack won’t listen? He spoke about severing all ties painlessly. My relationship with him and my entire happiness is at stake. I’m so completely lost without him, I break down and cry again.
Jack left thinking I met up with that criminal jerk because I wanted him. He probably believes I was just using our former friendship to get back the contract with Zee-Com. Why couldn’t I have told Jack ages ago how I really felt? That I love him. I’ve always loved him. Never stopped loving him. Never will. Things might have been so different. My lack of confidence where Jack is concerned has crippled me all my adult life. When he left me four years ago, my self-belief and trust was destroyed. Dealing with that, after my parents’ death and then Harry’s... That’s what allowed Amanda to take unfair advantage.
I have to talk to Jack. I have to make him listen to the truth.
