by Emelia Blair
“Kendall has promised all her dances to me, tonight, Thomas. I’m really not inclined to share her.”
One of the women he’d been talking to makes a small sound and I wonder if she’s choking.
Although Caleb is lying through his teeth, I can’t help but be grateful for the rescue.
Thomas’s shoulders droop and then his eyes widen as he glances between us. “Wait, are you two…?”
I open my mouth to brush away any misconception he has but before I can utter a word, Caleb says smoothly, “How’s your new startup working out? I’ve been hearing good things.”
That seems like a good way to distract him because Thomas puffs his chest out and starts talking enthusiastically about one of his pet projects on the side.
Considering that he’s outsourced some of the work to our company, and I’ve been dealing with him as a liaison occasionally, I’m more than capable of keeping up with what he’s saying.
What that results in ultimately, is a small group gathering around us and the conversation topics range. For some reason, I’m at the center of it. I can feel eyes on me, and Caleb stands next to me, his touch possessive.
I catch him coldly staring down some of the men whose eyes have lingered for too long on me.
Why am I enjoying this?
Because I’ve never had anyone make me feel so important to them, and a part of me is wary that this will only last till I give into whatever Caleb wants.
A buzzing in my small clutch distracts me from my thoughts. I hastily reach for it, ignoring the way one of the men standing around accidentally brushes against me.
A thrumming growl has me looking up from my attempts to look for my phone to see Caleb scowling at the man who has dared to touch me.
The man is staring back at him, an arrogant tilt to this chin.
As much as it might thrill me, I also know this could escalate very quickly and I have no desire to be in the middle of this pissing contest. I quickly dig out my phone and blink at the flashing text message. “I, uh, I have to take this, sorry.” I dart away from the group, puzzled by the almost disappointed looks they shoot me. Were they that interested in what I was saying?
I meet Caleb’s eyes and he nods.
I hurry towards the balcony, which is, coincidently, empty.
The message is from Jane Starling and I quickly read through the annoyance in the words she’s written. She wants to send the article to her publisher tonight and she needs me to approve it, so she forwards it.
I lean against the railing and look around the balcony, which has been lit up in a subtle manner, with soft lights and flowers paced strategically, to create an almost romantic environment. With the soft music creeping in through the ajar doors, the only thing missing are glowing fireflies to make this scene completely magical. From here, I can even see the sprawling gardens and I give the couple strolling through them an envious look before getting back to work.
I’m about to open the email when I hear footsteps and I glance up to see Caleb approaching me.
“Is everything okay?”
I nod. “Just some work stuff. Jane sent me the article to review. She needs to get it out tonight.”
Caleb tucks his hands in his pockets, cutting a magnificent figure against the backdrop, but frowning. “You shouldn’t be working. Come on, I’ll teach you how to dance.”
Face to face with him, his chest brushing against mine, such close proximity.
I meet his eyes, saying slowly, “I don’t think that’d be such a good idea.”
His eyes darken but he gives me a strange half smile before saying, “All right, then. How about I go get some drinks for us and we can read what Miss Starling has written about me?”
I nod, wary at the way he so easily backed out.
Then, I realize just where I am, and I think… Well, shit. He’ll have me on the empty balcony that’s already set up like somebody’s wet dream of romance.
The smile on his face broadens slyly as he notes the realization in my eyes, before murmuring, “I’ll be back.” He turns around.
I see something slip from his pocket. I call out to him, but he’s already disappeared among the dancers. I open the email and letting it load, I go up to pick the small round like object.
Picking it up, I look at it and my senses reel as I recognize the stone.
How could I not?
I’d spend days polishing it.
My knees go weak as everything that has been jumbled in my mind starts untangling. Things that shouldn’t make sense are coming together, forcing themselves at the forefront of my mind, making me look at them with sudden vivid clarity.
No.
I don’t know how I make it to the bench but I’m sitting down now, my breathing harsh, as I try to come to terms with the truth. My hand flexes on the open phone and unwittingly I turn to look at it, and the first line in the document she’s sent me reads, ‘Once known as Harry Turner, Caleb Starr not only changed his name but his whole destiny along with it.’
Harry Turner.
I can see the sullen looking boy with sharp amber eyes and a shaved head, a constant punishment he had been forced to endure.
How could I not recognize him?
Because he’s filled out. Because the boy I remembered was thin, angry looking and morose while Caleb is strong, fit, wearing confidence like a second skin, making him almost unrecognizable. The flashes of familiarity make sense now. I saw hints of the boy I’d known but everything else has changed.
I close my eyes and I see the harshness in those eyes, along with deep-seated loneliness.
My first friend in the orphanage.
The first man I’d fallen in love with. The only man I’ve ever loved.
And when it had been time to leave, he had left with promises on his lips, promises that he had broken the minute he had left the gates of the house that had been a personal hell to us, taking my heart with him.
Caleb Starr is Harry Turner.
Desperate for any information, not able to comprehend my own raging emotions, my eyes drink in anything this article is offering.
‘Wrongly imprisoned.’
‘Walked away with a hefty compensation.’
‘Rebuilt himself from scratch.’
‘From pauper to prince.’
‘Once at the lower belly of society and now wearing society’s finest on his arms.’
Harry had gone to prison. He had been released three years later and then instead of looking for me, he had chosen to erase his past and me along with it.
And now.
Now, he had chosen to hunt me down and repay me some sort of debt he feels he owes me.
Inside me is a wide gaping chasm of emptiness as I start analyzing every touch, every gesture, every word exchanged between the two of us.
It has all been so calculated.
But I don’t understand why.
He gave me a job and made me financially stable. Why insist on forcing himself into my life? Why play all these games with me when he clearly has other women in his life or can have.
Why not tell me who he was?
I open my palm to gaze at the stone in it.
It’s smoother than I remember which tells me that he’s had it for a long time. And he carries it on himself. Even to this stupid ball.
There’s so much confusion inside of me, so many feelings that I can’t sort out: hurt, anger, happiness, grief, betrayal, loneliness, relief.
What do I apply here? What should I say? How should I react?
A part of me wants to hold him and cry, just hold him so tightly that he never leaves me again. Another part of me wants to hit him, to lash out, make him feel the hurt and betrayal and the staggering sense of loss that I’ve been living with for the past so many years.
I hear the scuffle of feet and then I look up to see Caleb standing in the doorway.
No. Not Caleb, Harry.
He’s studying me with an intensity and his eyes move towards the stone
in my hand. His eyes narrow imperceptibly and then he’s moving towards me, slowly.
I stare up at him, blankly, nothing coming to my mind. I have no idea what to say.
He reaches out, carefully and plucks the stone from my hand, his words deliberate, “That belongs to me.”
I don’t say anything, and he sits down next to me, silently, waiting for me to find the words.
At some point, I do, my eyes on his legs, not brave enough to face him. “Why did you keep it all these years? It’s just a stupid stone.”
Caleb-Harry rolls the stone in his hands, his voice so very gentle, “It was the first gift I ever got. And you were so proud of it when you handed it to me. Do you remember what I did after you gave it to me?”
My voice is a mere whisper, hollow as I answer, “You bandaged my hands.”
A low chuckle that holds an emotion that I’m too lost to understand.
“Your little hands were nicked and bleeding. You’d been working on it for weeks.”
I don’t reply, the memory as clear as today in my mind, the hesitance in his eyes, the strange look in them as he stared at the stone, the careful manner in which he tended to my injured hands.
“You left me,” I say suddenly, helpless fury rising in me. “You left me and then you never came back! You were supposed to wait for me!” I strangle the choked sob in my throat.
Caleb’s hand tightens on the stone, and then I feel his other hand on my chin, lifting it, forcing me to meet his anguished gaze. “I went to prison for a crime I never committed. Three years, Kendall. You were all I thought about. And when I was released, the first place I visited was the home. But they wouldn’t tell me anything. My entire life was in tatters. I had to fix it before I went looking for you.”
I wrench his hand away from my face, pain forcing me to be unreasonable, the girl who had waited for letters, day after day, howling her misery, wanting him to see what it was like to have your heart crumble every day till there was nothing left but gnawing emptiness, a hollowness that nothing could fulfill. “You had all these years and now, you show up, and you don’t even tell me who you are! You expect me to buy that you were concerned about me or wanted to find me. What changed now?!”
His jaw is tight. “I saw you. I had given up hope by that time, but I was acquiring a firm and I saw you exit the building from the third floor. I tried to ask around about you but no one seemed to know, then I saw the man you had been talking to a few months later and I asked him and he said that you had been let go from the Flour Industries.”
There’s a look of frustration in his eyes, a glimpse of the boy I knew, inside. “I knew you were in the city. I knew you were jobless, hopefully, so I changed tactics. I took over a failing company, brought in a CEO to fix it, so that I could provide a position for you and create a job for you. In the meantime, I looked everywhere I could. Job agencies, phone books, every place I could think of. It was only by chance that I found your name in a stack of applicants and then I got the dice rolling.”
My chest tightens at the anger on his face, the helplessness, the devotion that he’s not even trying to hide. He grasps my hands and brings them to lie flat on his chest. “Kendall, everything I’ve built is for you. So that you will have everything that your heart could dream of, all the comforts at your fingertips.”
My head hurts and so does my heart, like someone has taken a knife to it and is shredding it slowly piece by piece. My voice shakes as I feel wetness trail down my cheek, and I mumble, “I just wanted you. I could have lived without all of this. I just – I just only ever wanted you.”
Caleb’s touch is tender and yet his eyes are blazing as he vows, “You have me. I’m never walking away from you again.”
I want to pull my hands away from where he’s now kissing them, and yet I can’t bring myself to do it. “I want to slap you,” I say, dazedly, overwhelmed by sensation, as he presses his lips to each fingertip in a way that has my brain clouding. “I want to hit you so bad. And I want to hurt you. I want you to feel an ounce of what I’ve felt over the last few years.”
Caleb makes a sound of agreement, his eyes dark, ravenous, and he presses a kiss to my wrist, and I let him.
“I want to show you what it’s like to feel like the person you loved just walked away, like you’re nothing.” My voice is low, my lips parting at the way he’s kissing his way down my arm in a way that’s both seductive and heady.
I’ve never felt like this before.
“I’ve carried a piece of you on me since the day we parted and I swore I’d find a way back to you, no matter how long it took,” he whispers against my skin.
In his eyes, I can see nothing but a reflection of myself. It’s as if he’s lost himself in me and I’m slowly, losing myself in him.
We are blurring together, and I can’t stop it.
This isn’t going the way I want it to, but I’m starved for his touch, for his presence, and out of nowhere, I want his hands all over me, consuming me. I want to give him a reason to never leave me again.
I’m still angry, upset over this deception, and I know there’s more to his story, but for now, everything is fading into the background and I’m craving Harry and Caleb, one and both, the man I loved and the man I’m falling in love with.
“Kendall…” His voice is thick with desire. “Fuck. Don’t—”
But my mouth is seeking out his, not caring about the way I fumble, inexperienced as I am. “I-I…” All I can think and see and hear is him. “I haven’t…” The words are torn from me as a few tears spill out, the grief of losing him and finding him too much to handle. “…Not with anyone.”
This makes him stiffen and then he groans into my mouth while his hands are diving into my hair and he’s pulling me towards him, roughly, tilting my head according to how he wants it.
His kisses are soft and gentle, and yet there is something addicting about them, like coming home. One hand leaves my hair, sliding down my back till it is positioned at the small of my back pushing me towards him.
He nibbles on my lower lip, his tongue darts out to lick it, and then he’s sipping from my mouth like one would from a Holy Grail.
My knees are feeling weak with the way he expertly unwinds me and molds me into what he wants with just a kiss. I gasp out and suddenly the entire kiss changes. There is something wilder, dirtier about it, as I feel his tongue in me, tasting me, licking me, his mouth devouring mine in the filthiest of ways and dimly, in the back of my mind, I realize that I’m treading unclear waters, kissing this man who left me years ago and showed up, inserting himself into my life without so much a hint to who he is.
But these past few months have been a rollercoaster for me and all I know is that I’m home in Caleb’s arms, and I’m safe with him.
The sound of laughter has us freezing and we hear footsteps. Before I can even comprehend it, I’ve been pulled off the bench and my body is pressed against the back of the round Greek pillars with Caleb’s body over mine.
“W-what?” I hiss, startled.
Caleb gives me a pained look. “I know those people. I don’t want to meet them.”
When I open my mouth, his firm hand covers it, and I swallow behind it. His eyes bore into mine and I shiver at the intensity.
I hear the voices then, two women.
“I was sure I saw him come out here,” one of the women says, disappointment in her voice.
Her friend sounds snide as she replies, “Maybe he’s with that little secretary of his. Can you imagine the gall though? Bringing some back-alley trash to such an event? She must really be good in bed.”
My ears burn in shame and although, I have been called worse at times, in front of Caleb, I feel something tightening in my chest.
However, Caleb’s eyes are glittering in anger, his fury dark, but he leans forward and gently presses his lips to my forehead.
The other woman giggles nervously. “How do you know they’re sleeping together? She could just be a random date.
Besides…” There’s a hint of spite in her tone. “Your Dylan was all over her. I would be careful about keeping him in line, unless you want another scandal on your hands.”
“Whatever,” her friend says airily. “It’s pretty obvious, though. The way Caleb watches her. It’s like he wanted to rip her clothes off and take her there and then. He wouldn’t even leave her side for a minute. I wonder how she hooked him.”
My face is definitely red at this point, and Caleb’s lips slide to my ear, and he murmurs, “I wonder how.”
I try to step on his toe and he immediately darts back.
Hearing the scuffle, the women quickly leave, and I glare at him, my ears straining to check whether we’re alone.
“That went well,” he says casually, glancing around the pillar.
“Sure,” I mutter. “You’re not the one who was called a slut.”
Caleb drags me into his arms and studies me with a darkly possessive look. “I can make them pay for that, you know?” He trails a finger down the side of my face, finally settling on rubbing my lower lip with his thumb. “I could buy up their family businesses, make them go bankrupt within the week.”
I tremble at his words, suddenly fearful. “You can’t do that. That’s crazy.”
He raises a brow. “I can’t? They insulted you.”
I study his face and realize he’s dead serious. “No, you can’t. Not even for me.”
He’s no longer looking at me, his eyes focused on my lips. “We’ll discuss that later.” He’s about to reach down.
I put my hands on his chest, stopping him. “No. We’re discussing this now. Promise me you won’t do that!”
“Why do you care?” He sounds irritable. “You don’t even know them.”
“I don’t have to know them! I just…Promise me.” I stand my ground, shaken by the cruelty I’m glimpsing in this man before me. And yet, it does nothing to stem the burning desire inside of me, the happiness that is uncurling slowly.
He looks curious. “You always did have a soft heart. Too soft.”
