“Yes, he is. How is married life?”
“I love it. Although I’ll probably never get used to being called Princess. I still look around for one every time I hear it.”
“Do you ever miss your old life?”
“I thought I would, because it’s a very public lifestyle, but there’s a town here where we can go to simply be ourselves. Magnus was raised there, and I’m glad our children will have the same opportunity. He has friends there, and now so do I. Don’t get me wrong, having a title and the responsibilities that come with it is an honor I welcome, but it’s nice to be able to step outside of it now and then to just—breathe.”
“Exactly. We all need that.” She understood. He was tempted to share about his sanctuary. He trusted her, but the risk was too great. Later, when his life was running smoothly, he’d tell her.
There was a pause in their conversation—enough time for Eric to remember Rachelle’s question about Delinda. “I’m surprised Delinda is still in London.”
“Make time to see her, Eric. She just needs to know you’re doing okay.”
Eric groaned. “By her definition or mine?”
Rachelle made a sympathetic sound. “I know she’s not an easy person to talk to, but you’re the only reason she’s in London.”
“I’m happier when she’s not part of my life, Rachelle. I know that sounds cold.”
“No, just honest. Do you want me to talk to her? See if I can get her to give you some space?”
Had she been beside Eric and not simply on the phone, he would have hugged his sister—not because he was going to take her up on the offer, but because she had once again proved her loyalty to him. One day he might even deserve it. “I’ll call her, but thanks, Rachelle.” His voice tightened with emotion. “Seriously, thank you for everything.”
“That’s what family is for, Eric. Yes, we make mistakes, drive each other crazy, but when it matters, we’re there for each other. Even Grandmother. She loves you so much.”
“I know,” he said, more for Rachelle’s benefit than because he agreed.
“If you’re serious about a second visit to the children’s hospital, I’ll start making arrangements.”
“Yes, I’m in.”
“Great. I’ll call you tomorrow with information.”
“Talk to you then.”
“I love you, Eric,” Rachelle said.
There was a time when those words would have rung false to him, but he wasn’t that man anymore, and he didn’t want to see the world through those eyes again. “Love you, too. Stay safe.”
Rachelle hung up. Eric shuddered as he remembered how close he’d come to losing her. It would be easy enough to blame her association with Prince Magnus for what had happened, but the truth stared Eric in the mirror each morning. Rachelle had traveled to London out of concern for Eric. He hadn’t pulled his head out of his ass long enough to ensure her safety. There was nothing he could do about what had already happened, but he was determined to be a better brother to her.
He scarfed down his breakfast with enthusiasm. Amazing how much better he felt now that he wasn’t using one pill to sleep and another to get him out of bed the next day. Slowly his life was coming around. He called his publicist and announced that he would be pushing back the production of his next movie. Not forever, just a few months.
On impulse, Eric took out his flip phone and dug Sage’s business card out of his wallet. He punched in the numbers and held his breath. “Hey, it’s me.”
“Wayne?”
“Yes.” It was a little disappointing that she didn’t recognize his voice.
“Why does caller ID say Tim Toadhill?”
Oh, shit. “He must have had the number before me.” The lie rolled off his lips with ease. He didn’t feel guilty this time, though. To be with her, he was willing to give this persona life. If things worked out with her—well, he’d face that hurdle later. He hadn’t wanted to start anything with her when he’d thought he might be pulling out of her world at any time, but now he had a plan that would allow him to stay in both lives. “What are you doing today?”
“You said you didn’t want to see me anymore.”
He smiled. “What I said was that it was impossible to without wanting to sleep with you.”
“Oh yes, because it would be devastating for me when you move on.”
“I said that?”
“You did.”
“I’m an ass sometimes.” When she didn’t jump in to deny his claim, he said, “Come out and play with me today. I’ll make it up to you.”
“Oh, I don’t know—”
“Yes, you do. Listen, I like you. I want to see you today. I’m 95 percent positive I won’t be an asshole today if you agree to give me one more chance.”
She laughed at that. “So there’s a 5 percent chance you might?”
Hooked her with humor. All he had to do was close the deal. “I’m a work in progress.”
“Apparently. Where exactly would we go . . . if I agreed to go anywhere with you?”
He thought about what she’d enjoy and took a shot. “Have you been to Stonehenge? It’s drivable from London.”
“I’ve always wanted to but haven’t made it out there.”
“It’s settled, then. I’ll pick you up. There’s not a lot out there, but we can walk around, check out the visitor center, then drive over to Bath for a late lunch. Have you gone to the Roman baths?” Although he could afford to fill the day with luxurious perks, he decided to keep it simple. Sightseeing had become nearly impossible for him to enjoy once he became famous. Frankly, not much was worth the production involved. As Wayne Easton, though, he could experience both, as anyone else would. “Where do you live?”
His heart beat double time as he waited for her answer.
Sage sat on the arm of her couch and fanned her face nervously. She knew what Bella would say if she asked her opinion. Stonehenge and the Roman baths had been on her bucket list well before she moved to London. Funny how knowing something was close enough that she could go at any time had led to putting both off on so many occasions. Since the man from the park had not yet called her back, there was no reason she couldn’t go with Eric.
But should I?
He was an exciting unknown. One minute he was moody, the next sweet, then surprisingly arrogant. Which would he be that day?
The memory of his lips on hers returned, bringing warmth to Sage’s cheeks. She wasn’t a virgin. She understood desire—but this was more. This was intense. He’d been on her mind last night when she’d gone to sleep and right there to greet her when she’d woken.
How could she feel so much for someone she hardly knew?
How will I ever know him if I don’t spend time with him?
“Are you married?” she demanded.
“No.”
“You keep saying your life is complicated. What does that mean?”
“I’m not ready to tell you, but I will one day.”
“You’re not on the run from the law?”
“No.”
“Is your real name Tim Toadhill?”
He chuckled. “Absolutely not.”
She wanted to trust him, but her instincts were off lately. Bella’s warnings echoed in the back of her mind. “Stonehenge, Bath, then home. That’s all I’m agreeing to.”
“That’s all I offered,” he answered with humor.
“You—I—whatever, you know what I’m saying.”
He laughed again. “Yes, I do. I’ll pick you up in an hour.”
An hour. “Okay.”
After hanging up, Sage rushed to shower and dress. She changed her outfit several times. She wanted to look nice for wherever they went to dinner, but eventually she settled on jeans and a buttoned shirt. Stonehenge was outdoors, and she didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard.
A short time later, she met him on the street. As she slid inside his small, dilapidated car, she was glad she’d chosen as she had. She manually rolle
d down the window on her side. “It’s muggy today. No air?”
He looked at the panels as if he wasn’t sure, then shrugged. “Nope, sorry. Once we get on the road, it cools off.” He pulled out into the traffic.
The car supported her initial impression that he was on a limited budget. It was clean, but definitely a car of last resort. She pulled her hair up into a messy ponytail to stop it from blowing in her face and turned to study his profile. Outside of his scar he was a dead ringer for the movie star she’d compared him to the night before. She almost said it but held her tongue. She’d already nearly interrogated him, and that wasn’t the tone she wanted the day to have. “So, you haven’t been to Stonehenge, either?”
“By the time I moved to London, I wasn’t comfortable being in public anymore.”
Because of his scar? She didn’t want to push for more than he wanted to share. “But it’s getting easier?”
He glanced over at her. “Lately, yes.”
In an instinctive act of comfort, she touched his arm. “I’m glad.”
He took her hand in his. “Me too.” A small smile came and went on his face. “I haven’t always been someone I was proud of.”
Her heart fluttered from that simple connection. She’d tried and failed to explain this to Bella. Wayne could be dismissive and defensive, but it was how he protected himself. He didn’t want to be that person; she would have bet her life on that.
A man trapped within himself—reaching out to her.
What happened to him?
Normally bearing witness to such pain would have her instantly putting him in the client category, but Sage didn’t want him in that role, and that confused her more. She didn’t want to help him and walk away. She didn’t want either of them to move on. “I could say the same about myself. When you were a kid, didn’t you think you knew everything? Why is it that the older I get, the less I’m sure about anything?”
“That’s not true. You were sure that man would call you. Did he?”
Ouch. “Not yet.”
“He will.”
Her eyes flew to meet his before he turned his attention back to the road. “I thought you doubted he would.”
“I did. I don’t believe in fate or the supernatural, but I do believe in you.”
“You do?” Whoosh. Sage tightened her hand around his.
He glanced her way again and brought her hand up to his lips. “You make the world a better place, one random act of kindness at a time.”
Warmth spread through Sage, and her ability to speak dissolved. She’d let him in, and he understood. She was used to hiding what she did from the men she dated. She’d always believed that one day she’d meet one she could be herself with, and she finally had. “Thank you,” she finally croaked.
They drove along for a few minutes in the quiet that followed. He would shift, then take her hand back in his as if it belonged there. Sage studied his strong profile. Was this how forever looked?
“So, I read up about Stonehenge. The monoliths are roped off. To actually go between them, we would have had to sign up for a sunrise tour.”
“I don’t mind. It’ll still be interesting to see them.”
“You were raised with money. Do you ever miss the privilege of it? Skipping the line? Being treated special?”
It was an odd question that from some might have sounded envious or sarcastic, but instead he seemed genuinely curious. “Privilege comes at a cost I’m not willing to pay. I know having money sounds amazing, but the reality of it often isn’t. People treat you differently when they think they can get something from you. Or they use money to control you. I freed myself when I walked away from my inheritance.”
He pulled over along the side of a back road. “You’re serious?”
“Absolutely. I also believe money is an addiction, at least at a certain level. At first, all a person wants is enough to pay their bills. Then to buy a few nice things. They might take care of the people around them. But something happens when they reach a certain level of wealth. It starts to take over their lives. They become obsessed with making more or keeping what they have. No matter how much they have, it’s no longer enough. I feel bad whenever I hear that someone has won the lottery, because I know their life is about to change, and I pray they won’t lose themselves and everyone they love because of it.”
He turned the engine off, unbuckled his seat belt, and turned to face her. “That’s not a popular modern view. Isn’t more always better? Life is competitive, and no one wants to come in second.” He wasn’t actually debating the point with her. He seemed to be searching for an alternative to what his experience had been.
“Who says that’s the way it has to be? Rules only apply when you’re playing the same game. I rejected that life. I don’t have an impressive bank account, and my parents think I’ve wasted my potential, but I like my life. There are parts I’m still working on, but I’m not in competition with anyone. I’m living the way I want to. Is skipping to the front of the line worth giving that up? I don’t think so.”
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” He leaned forward, cupped her chin with one hand, and kissed her.
She undid her seat belt so she could move closer. Their kiss deepened, and she gave herself over to the desire rushing through her. His seat jolted backward, allowing room for her to straddle him. His hands went to her hips, his thumbs caressing the bare skin beneath her shirt. She arched against him and ground herself intimately against his bulging cock.
It felt good, so damn good.
Her hands went to his face. He froze and took both of her hands in his. “Don’t,” he ordered huskily. “Don’t ever touch my face.”
She would have promised not to, but as he began to kiss her neck, it felt too good. Slowly, he worked his way from below her ear down to the collar of her shirt and back. She writhed against him.
He raised his head and met her gaze. Their ragged breath mingled. “We need to take this slow.”
She chuckled, still breathless. “Isn’t that my line?” Her eyes fell to his scar. Up close it almost looked—
He released her hands, shifted her off him, and angled his face so his scar was hidden. “This wasn’t why I asked you out today.” He started the car again.
No? Damn. Sage settled herself back into her seat. He pulled back out onto the road as she tried to collect her scattered thoughts. Of course slow was better. That he didn’t want to rush her was actually refreshingly respectful. Or was his withdrawal for another reason? “It’s not repulsive. Your scar. I actually like it. It gives you character.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I think you should. Maybe then you’d see—”
His hands tightened visibly on the steering wheel. “This isn’t going to work, is it? What the fuck was I thinking? I thought if we didn’t—if we could simply spend time together and not take it further—that it wouldn’t be an issue.”
“It’s not an issue for me.” Sage clasped her hands on her lap.
He grimaced, and her heart broke for him.
She touched his arm again, but this time he didn’t reach for her hand. “But it is for you, and I can respect that.”
He groaned. “Why do you want to be with me?”
She squeezed his arm. “Why wouldn’t I? Because you’re not perfect? News flash—no one is.”
His eyes flashed with a defensive anger she was beginning to recognize. “Am I just like the man in the park? Is that why you’re with me?”
“You’re right. How did I not see it? This is exactly the same. Do you remember how I climbed right on his lap to comfort him?” She let go of his arm. “No? Yeah, because I didn’t. I’m not with you because I feel sorry for you, but if you can’t see that, maybe you should turn the car around and take me home.”
He didn’t.
They drove without speaking for a mile or so. Then he added, “Do you want to go back?”
She relaxed. “No. I’d like to see Stonehe
nge, and I was looking forward to a dinner in Bath.”
He glanced at her, then back at the road. “I don’t know why I say some of the shit I do.”
“Everyone reacts differently to being afraid.”
“I’m not—” He stopped. His hands clenched again on the steering wheel. “I don’t want to fuck this up.”
His pain was palpable.
She said, “So, let’s go slow—just like you said.”
They talked about what they both were excited to see at Stonehenge, then about nothing in general for several minutes. The tension from earlier fell away.
A small smile lit his face. “Don’t hate me, but all I can think about is how much I want you.”
Sage ran her hand from his knee up to, but just shy of, the bulge in the front of his jeans. It was a brief, teasing touch. Then she sat back and said, “That’s just awful.”
A flush spread up his neck and across his cheeks. “Slow might kill me,” he said in a strangled voice.
She laughed, and he joined her. He reached for her hand, and their fingers intertwined as naturally as if they were a longtime couple. Sexual tension sizzled between them, but there was also an underlying friendship building.
“Hey,” he said, “tell me about this life you enjoy so much. Who are your friends? Do you have pets? What do you do for fun? I want to know everything.”
Her own smile was wide and steady. “Well, my best friend, Bella, is a lawyer. Very serious. We have practically nothing in common, but somehow it works. She gets me, and that’s what matters most.”
He nodded. “I have a friend like that: Reggie. I can’t imagine my life without him.”
Yes. “It makes all the difference, doesn’t it? No matter how bad a day I’ve had, I’m okay because I know there’ll be at least one person in my corner.”
“I’ve never found that in a partner.” He gave her a heated glance.
Her heart thudded in her chest. “I haven’t, either.”
“I want that,” he said simply.
“Me too.”
“Is it even possible?”
“I’d like to think so.”
He released her hand, returning it to the steering wheel. His other hand went to the side of his face that was hidden from her. “Sage, there’s something I should tell you.” He looked at her. “My scar—”
Hollywood Heir (Westerly Billionaire Book 4) Page 9
