“Let's get you back to the hotel,” said Sean. “You need to sleep this off.”
“Here, take my coat.” Larissa started to unbutton it, but Sean held up a hand.
“No, he can take mine.” He slipped out of his jacket and offered it to Ian.
Ian stared at him as if he were being offered a poisonous snake. After a moment, he took the jacket and threw it on the bench. “Thanks, but I don't need anything from you.”
Larissa bit her lip. “He's just trying to help.”
He turned to her with a furious expression. “He's just trying to help? And how has he helped me? Did he help me by stealing you from under my nose? Did you go straight from my bed to his? I can see how helpful he is.”
She stepped back as if he'd slapped her. “This isn't the time to talk about it.”
“But I want to talk about it.” He put a hand on her arm. “Please talk to me.”
“Not now.” She froze him with a look. “Tomorrow, when you're sober.”
“Larissa, please.”
Sean put a hand on Ian's shoulder. “The lady said she doesn't want to talk to you now.”
Ian's jaw tightened. “Why don't you tell her why you were kissing those hookers on the second floor? She saw you, you know.”
“Stop it!” Larissa cried.
Sean turned to face her. “I'll tell you everything that happened.”
“Right,” said Ian. “I'm sure you'll come up with a convincing story.”
Sean's voice deepened with anger. “Since you don't know me from Adam, I don't think you're qualified to judge my failings.”
“I know your type.”
“And what type is that?”
The two men resembled gladiators prepared to fight to the death, both strong and masculine to the core. The tension between them was a palpable thing as they glared at each other with unconcealed hatred. Larissa thought she could actually smell the animal aggression wafting from them in testosterone-fueled waves. Neither man dropped his gaze, and the air itself seemed charged with male energy. Her green-eyed warriors were about to kill each other, so she stepped between them.
“It's freezing out here,” she said softly. “Could you please take me back to the hotel before I catch pneumonia?”
Chapter 13
Ian's blood ran hot as his hands balled into fists. Only Larissa's intervention stopped him from taking a swing at the blond pretty boy. How could she trust a guy who looked that perfect? Sean Merrick was probably the type of bastard who slept with a different woman on every layover.
And what makes him any different from you?
The thought penetrated the alcohol haze which surrounded his brain.
Another part of his mind spoke up. I'm different because I'm the one who loves her!
But what if he loves her too?
No, that wasn't possible. They just met, and he didn't even know her.
Not like I do.
But what if the pilot is the one she really wants? You had one night with her and now it's over. Accept it.
Ian felt the fire leave his body. His shoulders sagged as the cold penetrated his bones. He decided he would pick his battles, and this wasn't the time to go on the offensive. Giving Larissa a final glance, he turned on his heel and walked away from them.
“Ian.” Her voice was a tremulous whisper.
“Let him go,” Sean said quietly. “He can find his way back to the hotel.”
The sound of Merrick's voice grated on Ian's last nerve. God damned pretty boy. This wasn't over between them.
Not by a long shot.
* * * *
Ian walked slowly across the street and returned to the pub where he'd left his jacket. The table where he had sat was now occupied by a beautiful young woman who was fresh-faced and innocent looking. He had a thing for women who looked that way. An angel combined with a seductress was his idea of the perfect woman.
She wore a tight black dress and her full breasts threatened to spill out of the top of it. The dress was very short which gave him a stunning view of her thighs.
“Hello there.” He gave her a sexy smile. “I forgot my jacket.” He pointed to the chair where it lay.
“Well, hello there.” A mischievous glint came into her eyes. “It just so happens I sat at this table so I could guard this lost jacket. It looks pretty expensive. How do I know it's really yours?”
“Shall I try it on for you?”
“It looks like it might fit you, but I won't know until I see it on your body.”
He slipped it on. “What do you think?”
She frowned. “I'm not sure yet. Describe what's in the pockets.”
He laughed, liking her sense of humor.
“Let's see.” He looked up at the ceiling. “I think I have a piece of gum and some loose change.”
She uncrossed her long legs and walked over to where he stood. Her breasts lightly brushed against him as she probed the interior of the pockets. Her fingers touched his waist through the leather, and he inhaled sharply as the delicious scent of her hair teased his nostrils. She smelled like honeysuckle, a light, summery fragrance at odds with the freezing weather.
“I found two sticks of gum, not one.” She shook her head. “How do I know this really belongs to you?”
He grinned. “Why are you giving me such a hard time?”
She indicated the chair next to hers. “Why don't you sit down? You seem to be having trouble keeping your balance.”
Ian suddenly felt dizzy and nauseous. “Good idea.”
“How about a little hair of the dog?”
He frowned. “The bartender cut me off.”
“Is that a fact? I can't imagine why.”
“Are you teasing me?”
“Can't you tell?”
He shrugged. “I guess I don't know you well enough to tell, but I'd like to.” He struggled to keep his gaze from straying to her chest. “So what's your name, lovely lady?”
“Fiona.”
“I'm Ian. It's a pleasure to meet you.”
She took his hand. “Hello, Ian.”
As their fingers touched, something like an electrical impulse shot up his arm. For a moment he couldn't speak as he stared at her.
Finally, he managed to say, “Are you here on holiday?”
She shook her head. “Afraid not. They called me to work a flight to New York tomorrow. One of the flight attendants came down with food poisoning. She's in the hospital, and they needed a replacement.”
He devoured her soft beauty. “Some of my favorite people are flight attendants.”
“Why doesn't that surprise me?”
She leaned forward and he held his breath, expecting her breasts to pop out of that amazing dress at any second.
She raised an eyebrow. “So what do you do, Ian the handsome?”
He laughed. “You don't know who I am? That's very refreshing.”
“Who are you?”
“Just a guy who lost his jacket.”
“You're not making any sense.”
“I've heard that before.”
A shard of pain sliced across his forehead. He would probably have the mother of all headaches tomorrow.
She looked around the bar. “This place seems pretty dead. If you'd like that drink, the mini-bar in my room is still open.”
“Is it now?”
“Twenty-four hours a day; we never close.”
Guilt overwhelmed him as he remembered Larissa in his bed, her soft kisses, her beautiful face.
Then he pictured her in the arms of that fucking golden boy, and his guilt was replaced with anger.
He gave Fiona his trademark smile. “Well then, what are we waiting for?”
Chapter 14
Sean decided this had been the strangest night of his life, but also the most wonderful.
As he walked through the park with Larissa at his side, he looked up at the moon which hung low in the sky. It seemed close enough to touch if he stretched out his arms and reached fo
r it. Was it true the moon controlled human emotions? Perhaps it could even manipulate circumstances to please itself.
He couldn't believe the good fortune which had brought Larissa into his life. He wondered who he should thank for this blessing. Perhaps he should be grateful to that cold rock floating thousands of miles above him. After enduring so much sadness, he had actually met a woman who was both sweet and intelligent, not to mention exquisitely beautiful. On top of that, he liked her as a human being.
He inhaled the clean scent of the frigid night air as his gaze traveled to the stars, which sparkled like jewels on a dark, velvet cloth. He smiled at the moon and it seemed to smile back at him.
“I feel things are moving too fast between us.” Larissa's voice was hesitant. “I need to take a breath and step back.”
Suddenly, the woods were no longer beautiful and the moon was no longer smiling.
* * * *
In Ian's estimation, Fiona's room wasn't much bigger than a broom closet. His large frame filled the small area to an uncomfortable degree so he considered inviting her to his spacious suite. After some soul-searching, he decided against it because he had made love to Larissa in that room. Bringing another woman to his bed seemed like a desecration of something sacred.
He wondered what Larissa was doing at that very moment. He was sure he knew, but couldn't bear to think about it.
Fiona's voice broke into his thoughts. “What would you like to drink?”
“Whiskey, vodka, rum, whatever you have.”
She laughed. “Sounds like you've got it bad.”
“Got what?”
“Let me guess. You broke up with your girlfriend, wife, significant other, or something along those lines.”
He frowned. “I'm not really in the mood to talk about it.”
“I'm a good listener.”
“I didn't come here to talk.”
“Why did you come here?”
He shook his head. “I'm not sure. Maybe I should just call it a night.”
“It's up to you.” She shrugged. “I won't tie you up and force you to stay. Unless you want me to.”
He smiled. “Then how about a brandy?”
She walked over to the mini-bar and poured a drink. “Why don't you sit down?”
He sat on a chair near the bed and she handed him a drink. The liquid flowed smoothly down his throat, leaving a trail of warmth.
“How is it?” she asked.
“Delicious. Aren't you having anything?”
“I don't drink.”
“Then why were you in the bar?”
“I liked the atmosphere. Besides, the bartender was cute.”
Even though they had only just met, a stab of jealousy pricked Ian's heart. He gave himself a mental shake. Why in the world should he care who this girl found attractive? He didn't even know her. He shouldn't care at all, but there it was. He did.
“Why don't you drink?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I don't feel like getting into that.”
“I'm a good listener too.”
She gave him a provocative smile and then changed the subject. “So tell me about yourself, Ian.”
“Not much to tell. Why don't we talk about you?”
“Even less to tell.” She lay down on the bed and clasped her hands together on her stomach. He was treated to a delicious view of her long legs. Her high heels were so sexy, he wondered if it was possible to fall in love with a pair of shoes without a woman even wearing them.
“Do you like my shoes?” she asked.
“Very much. I can't decide what I like more - the dress or the shoes.”
“It's a toss-up, isn't it?” she agreed. “I can't decide what I like more - your handsome face or your fine booty.”
He chuckled. “This is certainly turning into an entertaining evening. It's been awhile since I laughed this much.”
“You do seem pretty serious. Sort of brooding and Heathcliffy.”
“Heathcliffy?”
“You know, Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights?”
“I know who he is.”
He almost told her he'd played Heathcliff in one of his early films, but didn't want to lay the whole movie star trip on her. Especially since she seemed to like him without knowing who he was—without all the baggage attached to being Ian Renard.
“Well Heathcliff—” She raised her arms above her head. “I have a crick in my neck. Would you mind massaging it a bit?”
“Sure.” He sat down on the bed next to her. She turned over and lay face down on the pillow. After a moment, he began to rub her neck and shoulders with tentative strokes.
“Mmm,” she murmured. “You have strong hands. Is the rest of you as strong?”
“That's for you to find out.”
“Don't tease me like that; it's very frustrating.”
“We can't have you frustrated, can we?” He moved his hands down her back and massaged her tight muscles until he felt her relax under his touch.
After several minutes of silence, he saw that her eyes were closed and her mouth slack. Had she fallen asleep? It was just as well because the brandy was making him feel relaxed and sleepy.
He decided to take off her shoes before he went back to his own room. After figuring out how the straps worked, he pulled them off and lay them next to the bed. He couldn't resist massaging her ankles before sliding his hands around her small pretty feet. As he touched the heel of one foot, he felt scar tissue beneath his thumb. Puzzled, he looked down and saw several similar scars on the heels of both feet.
“What the fuck are you doing?” She kicked him away and then curled herself into a fetal position. “Look, I'm really tired. Why don't you go now so I can get some rest?”
“Where did you get those scars?”
“I don't think that's any of your business.”
“I've never seen perfectly round scars like that. They look like—”
They couldn't be what they looked like to him.
“What do they look like?” She sat up and her blue eyes blazed with an angry fire. “Do they look like cigarette burns? Is that what you're thinking?”
She turned to face the wall, presenting her back to him.
“You can leave now,” she said again. “I'm really tired, and I've got to work tomorrow.”
“Who did that to you?” His voice roughened with anger.
“Are you deaf? Just leave, okay?”
He stood up and walked to the door. He had his hand on the doorknob when he turned around and returned to the bed. He sat down next to her and began to massage her back again.
After awhile, she said, “Are you still here?”
“I'm still here.”
She sighed. “My stepfather did that to me a long time ago.”
The bile rose in his throat and he choked on his fury. She was so damn beautiful he couldn't imagine anyone hurting her.
“Bastard,” he growled.
“Yes, he was.”
“How old were you?”
“Young.” She took a deep breath. “My mom was a drunk and she couldn't protect herself, much less her own daughter.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “How could he do that to you?”
“People will do anything. Don't you know that?”
“What happened then? I mean afterwards.”
“After it happened, I got sent to a foster home. After that, many more foster homes.” A tear slid down her cheek. “I don't want to talk about it anymore.”
He nodded. “I have stuff in my past I'd rather forget as well.”
“Like what?”
What was happening here? All he'd wanted was to fuck this attractive young woman and forget about Larissa for awhile. Now they were baring their souls to each other and it was uncomfortable, no, downright painful. Yet he suddenly craved this intimacy, so he had to be as honest with her as she'd been with him.
He looked away from her. “Like my parents fighting all the time. My dad accusing Mom of trappi
ng him into marriage because she got pregnant with me. I always felt like an accident, a noose around my dad's neck which he couldn't escape. The best times were when I stayed at my grandpa's farm. I knew I was loved there.”
He shook his head. “I think I'm ready to drop this subject.”
“Me too.”
He lay back on the bed. “Can I just hold you?”
She smiled. “If I can hold you, too.”
Chapter 15
“Please talk to me.” Sean stopped walking and turned to face Larissa.
“I think I'd like to go back to my room now.” She lowered her gaze, but not before he saw the look of pain and confusion on her face.
“All right.” He reached out and touched her cheek. “But will you talk to me first? Please.”
She looked at him with troubled eyes. “Okay, let's talk. Tell me about the women I saw you kissing in the hallway.”
He knew this was a crucial moment between them. He could either tell her the truth and risk losing her, or lie and hope she didn't discover it.
He opted for the complete truth. “They were porn actresses.”
“I see.” She raised an eyebrow. “Have there been many porn actresses in your life?”
“No.” He tried to explain the way it had been for him. “After my wife died, I couldn't sleep with another woman. It's been over a year and only recently have I found myself able to enjoy the company of ladies again.”
“Like those three quote unquote actresses?”
“Yes.” He decided to be honest about everything. “This week I slept with a flight attendant, and then tonight—”
“What happened tonight?” she prompted.
“I met those women in the bar and I went to their room.”
Before he could change his mind, he told her everything which had happened. Emotions flitted across her face and her eyes widened when he told her about the handcuffs and the sudden appearance of Gabe.
Finally she said, “You've been busy this evening, haven't you?”
“I know I'm a stranger to you,” he said quickly, “but I've never felt this way about anyone before. I want to be honest about myself.”
“I feel the same way,” she admitted. “But I still don't think this is going to work.”
Hostages of Love (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 7
