by Amy Rose
“I don’t give a shit what happens to him, I would love to see him down and out, and we could probably still do that. We could sack him from your company and you could tell everyone that you know not to hire him. We could tell them something…. I don’t know, we can think of something. As for telling you what happened, I will, but not tonight”, I step closer to him again, so our lips are only just apart, the feel of his breath of my cheek.
“I’m yours, Elliot. Not his. He may have taken from me, but I am giving something to you. I want to be with you, I want to marry you, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but you have to accept me the way I am. I’m not a virgin, Elliot. Can you accept that?”
He closes the gap between us immediately, kissing me, pushing his tongue into my mouth, swiping across my teeth, inviting my own tongue to dance with his, claiming my mouth as his own. He slips his arms behind my back, and pulls me closer to him so my body is once again pressed against his, one hand rising to hold my head to his, the other lowering to my ass, he gives it a firm squeeze, I jump a little and he laughs ever so slightly against my mouth.
“I want you, Angela, believe me I do, I want every part of you. I want your love, I want your body, I want it all. You not being a virgin, isn’t what upset me, it was what happened to you. What that low life piece of shit did to you, that made me walk away from you just then. I’m just so goddamn angry that it happened. You know I would never take anything from you that you weren’t willing to give to me. Don’t you, baby?” I nod. I knew from the moment of our first kiss he would never take from me. This is the same man who practically asked permission before he even kissed me for the first time.
“I know, Elliot. What does this mean for us? Am I staying, or should I go and leave you to think for a while?”
“You’re not going anywhere, unless you want to, of course. I just want to take you in my arms and love you, Angela. Will you let me love you?” his eyes are once again full of passion, the question lingering between us, once again leaving the ball in my court.
“Let’s go to bed Elliot, hold me and kiss me tonight,’’ he scoops me up into his arms and has us walking towards the steps before I get past the word “bed.” He smiles down at me.
“I would love that, baby.” As we climb the stairs, he kisses me on the top of my head.
I know this will change our relationship, and I welcome it. I welcome his touch, his hands on my body, my own roaming his muscled perfection. I can see it so clearly in my head. Let’s hope the reality lives up to my dreams.
We reach his bedroom. He not once falters carrying me, even though I’m not exactly a lightweight. He places me down gently on the top of the bed covers, and walks around to the other side of the bed before stripping off his t-shirt and lying down beside me. He lifts his arm, allowing me to choose if I wanted to get closer. Without any hesitation, I roll onto my side, closer to him, and fit my head into the perfect spot between his shoulder and his chest, lifting my hand up to rest on his chest. I feel the thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump of his heartbeat, beating steadily under my palm.
I run my hand slowly, from his chest down to his stomach, and back up again, slowly, not wanting anything more than to touch his muscular torso. He runs his fingers up my arm from elbow to shoulder, slowly, with just the tips of his fingers. I shiver slightly at the skin to skin contact, thankful I chose to wear a sleeveless blouse. In this moment I feel Incredibly comfortable and safe in his arms, just enjoying the touch and closeness of another individual, with no pressure to do anything else.
I snuggle in even more, turning my head slightly, his soft chest hair tickling under my nose. I press my lips to his firm, muscular chest, just once, and I hear him make a noise, not unlike a hum. Not wanting to push it to far tonight, I turn my head again, looking towards the ceiling, and just relax.
“Thank you for being you, Elliot.” He raises his hand from my shoulder and threads his fingers into my hair, softly redirecting my face to look into his eyes. Once our eyes are locked, he speaks.
“I love you, Angela. I’m not going anywhere. I asked you to marry me, to spend the rest of your life with me, and I still want that, more than anything. The fact that an animal did something reprehensible to you doesn’t change how I feel about you. It never will, baby. You know that, don’t you?” The sincerity is flowing from his eyes, clouding over with so many different emotions, including love, devotion, and a flicker of anger towards the end of his speech.
“I know, Elliot. I know.”
And I did. He had the chance to walk away from me tonight, he could have been a lesser man and chosen to not have to deal with soiled goods, but he didn’t. Instead, he is here with me, holding me close to him, not pressuring me for anything more than the contact of our bodies against each other; a cuddle, a touch here and there, eye contact, meaning so much more to me than anything else he could possibly do.
I had to stop thinking the worse every time he reacts to something I say. Instead believing in him, in us, in what we have together.
I didn’t think I could love Elliot Sands any more if I tried, but here I am, falling even further in love with the man whom I have promised to marry.
~ Chapter Twenty ~
Elliot
When Angela confessed that my foreman Dylan was the abusive ex from her past, my thoughts about the man swiftly changed. I wanted to cause him as much physical pain as possible.
Then, tonight she tells me that that poor excuse of a human being raped her too, and I saw red. I walked away from her, busying myself with the DVD cover and television remote, to ensure she didn’t see the caged animal from within, clawing so desperately to get out of me at that very moment, ready to kill someone.
I had such a need to rip into someone’s flesh and feel the blood pouring down his neck, to feel as though justice had been done, to defend my woman’s honor, to seek retribution, and to let all this rage out on that worthless piece of scum
I no longer wanted to hurt him, no, no, no. The feeling had morphed now, I needed to kill him, and it was going to be by my own two hands, that was for sure.
Then my Angel, sent to me as a gift from the big man up above, begged me not to hurt him, and I almost flipped out. Why the fuck was she defending him, protecting him even?
Then she explained the reasons why, and she had a point. That dirtbag wanted her money and look what he did to her in his effort to get his hands on it.
And if it’s money that he is after, he definitely wants mine, and I now believe one hundred percent that he hoped Angela would tell me the night of the Christmas party, in the hopes that I would lose my head and go after him. With so many witnesses around, he would have an open and shut case, then he had his reason wrapped up in a pretty little fucking bow to go after what’s mine.
And let me tell you, if I had found out during our time on the boat, I would have had an extremely hard time letting him be. I like to think that I would have been above throwing a punch and locking him in one of the rooms onboard, calling the local authorities to pick up his worthless ass as soon as we docked. But I know that it wouldn’t have gone down that way. There would have been punches thrown and blood drawn, and all of my employees would have seen a side of me that they hadn’t seen before.
But see, I’m smarter than that, and I’m smarter than he would probably give me credit for. You don’t build a company from the ground up into a multibillion-dollar empire without knowing a thing or two about holding out. I do it all the time during negotiations, making sure it’s the perfect time to strike. And during those dealings, I’ve come to know several people who could come in handy during this situation.
Drake will be the first person who will be hearing from me at the first opportunity I get. He has the technological know-how to bring him to his knees, and he owes me favors; favors that were at the perfect time to collect when the time comes. And when he begins begging for mercy, I’ll let Angela land the final blow, give her back something that he stole from her.<
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My heart aches for the woman who I love so much, snoring ever so softly beside me, her raven hair splayed out on the pillow around her like a halo. How someone could hurt her is beyond my comprehension.
I just want to hold her and make her safe. Oh, and make love to her, nice and slow, all night long. And I will, when the timing is right, and when she is ready.
Today hadn’t at all gone like I had planned, except for her accepting my marriage proposal. The minute I heard her say yes was the best moment of my entire life.
When Angela and I went in separate directions during Christmas shopping, I returned to Tiffany’s and saw Beverly. She had been given the task to sneakily get Angela’s ring size for me. She began to show me the different styles of rings, and I was immediately drawn to the heart-shaped diamond. She already had my heart, so it made sense for her to wear it on her finger, so everyone else knew, too.
I went with the largest stone they had in the store, the two-and-a-half carat, because only the best for my wife-to-be would do. If there had been a four-carat, I probably would have purchased that instead. Never mind the several hundred thousand price tag I paid for the token of my love, it would reside on her finger for the rest of our lives, so it was a worthwhile investment.
She was worth every single dollar I had in my bank account, and I would give it all up just to see her gorgeous carefree smile, one that I would endeavor to make appear every day of the rest of our lives together.
I saw red once again, when my mother had the audacity to insinuate that Angela was a gold digger. Even though I knew it was her protective instincts coming out, only wanting to make sure that the woman I did end up falling for, wanted me for me and not my money, I wanted to lash out at her, and tell her exactly how wrong she was. But thankfully before I had the chance, my ever-calm bride-to-be came over and smoothed things out, telling them things about herself that until that moment I didn’t even know. Proving why she is a perfect fit for me. The yin to my yang.
In complete honesty, her later confession of her net worth shocked me. From the way she lived in Nashville, I hadn’t given a second thought to her possibly having more, even though she carries herself as someone with money does. But it in no way changed the way I felt about her. I don’t think anything ever could.
Her confession to being Ernest White’s granddaughter was also a shock. Anyone who knows anything about New York real estate has heard of the great man. He owned so many properties, it was often joked about that he owned something in every building in central New York.
I’ve worked with her father, John, so many times that once she confessed her relationship to him, I could see the family resemblance. We get along fairly well, and so we should, considering all of the money I’ve lined his pockets with over the years, most recently my penthouse in the city. So, I doubt there will be any conflict from her parents when we tell them our happy news.
I want to tell them that I’m marrying their daughter as soon as possible. I want to publish it in the New York fucking Times, for Christ’s sake, that’s how happy I am. But Angela deserves her privacy. It’s something that she obviously craves, hence she distanced herself from her family and hid her net worth and property portfolio from me.
Once we are married, though, a semblance of that privacy will be gone. That’s what happens when you’re in the papers and gossip columns online as much as I am, and I want them to print the truth, for once. I’m no longer one of the city’s most eligible bachelors. Instead I want to read that I’ve found my soulmate, and that we will be together forever.
Beth liked Angela, I could tell that by her warmth towards her, and her hug before she left told me everything I needed to know. She had welcomed her into our family with open arms, literally.
When I asked her prior to her leaving, she confided in me that Mom and Dad had told her a little about Angela after we last saw them for a meal. They didn’t think it was anything serious, so they were all shocked when I announced our plans today to get married. Beth, however, was over the moon for me. Knowing how happy she is with David, it’s all she has ever wished for her big brother, and now that it was happening for me, her heart was full.
We have some logistics to work out, Angela and I, but I don’t care where I lay my head, if she is there beside me every night.
I will ensure Belle Meade is completed as quickly as possible so we can move in there, if she decides that it is where she wants to call home. Then another idea forms in my mind: we can be married there, in the place where we first met.
And I smile happily looking at my beautiful woman, thinking about the future ahead of us, and the day she will walk toward me, all in white, and I can finally claim her as mine in front of everyone.
~ Chapter Twenty-One ~
Angela
I try my hardest to forget any of the nights I spent with Dylan. It just brings back bad memories. But more than anything, I don’t allow myself to go back to the night that everything changed in my life. I don’t go back there for many reasons, especially when re-living the worst night of my life leaves me feeling like it was only yesterday.
It was the night that I realized that living inside of Dylan, the man I thought I would spend the rest of my life with, there was actually a monster, lurking underneath his skin just waiting to come out, hiding beneath well-formed manners and loving embraces. Somehow, he had managed to cage some sort of animal, who not only wanted to hurt me, but enjoyed it immensely at the same time. Going back to that night makes me regress and I feel as though no time has passed at all. That night gave me recurring nightmares, and worst of all, it had made me look at every single man as an enemy, tarring them all with the same brush as Dylan. But not anymore, I couldn’t let it tar the man I was head over heels in love with, who I had agreed to marry, knowing that this time I would not be treated the same way.
So, when I had confessed to not being a virgin because I had been raped, and Elliot guessed correctly that the man who had raped me was Dylan, I agreed. My ex fiancé. The very same Dylan who is currently a foreman working for Sands PTY LTD. Elliot wanted to know what happened, and sure, I wanted to tell him; however, I was able to get away with not telling him right then. Instead he took me to his bedroom and laid with me, cuddling me until we fell asleep.
In that moment, the closeness between us was so comforting. Here he was, snuggling up close to me, without me even providing so much as an explanation. It broke me the way he just cared and left me to make the decision on when to tell him, with no pressure to do it immediately. Not forcing me to tell him when he asked, waiting for me to open up to him in my own time.
I knew that I had to give him details. I would have to answer his questions, not just because I knew it was the right thing to do, but because I wanted him to know everything. And to be perfectly honest, there was no way our relationship could ever move forward properly without him knowing everything. What scared me the most was the fact that I wanted the future I had spoken about with him. A normal relationship, a happy marriage, possibly even a family of our own. A wonderful relationship that was based on honesty, and not keeping any secrets.
He woke, still curled around my body. When his eyes met mine, I stared into his beautiful blue eyes and sucked in a large breath to prepare myself. Finally, after seeing him give me a small smile, I let my eyes glaze over and I started the tale of my past.
With my final exam under my belt I could finally begin to relax. I felt good about all the answers I had written down on the thirteen-page examination, and with any luck, in a couple of days’ time I would receive a phone call letting me know that I was now a full-fledged real estate agent.
Instead of going home, I drove the short distance to Dylan’s apartment, where I had moved some of my things a couple of months ago. I parked beside his silver pickup. I bounded up the steps and slipped my key into the lock, flinging the door open as I walked through. “Babe, you here?” I called out. I walked around the hallway corner to find Dylan sitting at my com
puter at the makeshift breakfast bar he put together with two by fours and a sheet of plywood.
He jumped up, as if he had been bitten by a snake. “Hey Angie. I’m glad you’re home. I only just got home myself, thought I’d check my emails before jumping in the shower to get rid of today’s dust.” He came over to me and pressed his lips against my forehead in a kiss. “Back in a jiffy,” he said over his shoulder as he disappeared into his bedroom. Shutting the door behind him.
I hadn’t given much thought to catching Dylan at my computer much at first, he had given me an explanation that made sense, he was checking his emails. Something he often did when my computer was out, however, something nagged me about the way he jumped up and closed the screen.
After setting my bag beside the computer, I took the seat Dylan was previously occupying and opened the laptop. While he was busy showering, I logged into my computer and opened the browser history. It didn’t show that he had been checking his emails at all, what it did, in fact, reveal was that he had been logged into my emails. He had been reading the correspondence from my grandparent’s lawyer, Mr. Hawksbry, about my inheritance that I had just received from my grandfather’s passing, and at the same time, on a second screen, was the website for my bank. I felt a rock form in the pit of my stomach. He had been trying to access my bank accounts.
