Too Grand for Words (BookStrand Publishing Romance)

by Natasza Waters

  She took his face in her hands, brushing his lips with hers. “I feel so protected in your arms. I don’t feel like I have to pretend to be anything but me when I’m with you. And it feels good.”

  He gazed at her with an intensity that unnerved her. “You’ll never have to be anyone but yourself with me, Moira. I love who you are,” he said quietly. “I don’t want you to ever change.”

  “But we’re not…”

  He cut her off. “Don’t say we don’t belong together. You’re more right for me than anyone I’ve ever known.”

  He folded her in his arms, and her heart betrayed her again, swelling with warmth.

  * * * *

  Dane watched the interaction between Steven and Moira. He actually felt a little jealous, no—he felt a lot jealous. Steven didn’t have to tell him they were lovers. Their closeness told everyone that. He hadn’t missed the look in their eyes when they gazed at each other. They’d known each other for only a few days, but their connection was strong.

  Moira was nice, a down-to-earth woman, and that’s what his brother needed. Someone to ground him instead of the loose trash he kept taking to bed. Stars and starlit wannabes had been his pace for years now. He and Steven talked about it once over a few beers. He knew he didn’t have much faith in women, other than they were deceitful, conniving, and great between the sheets. He’d gotten all that from that fuckin’ redhead who’d used him to climb the ladder. She’d been a real piece of work, but Steven had been smart calling it off. He, on the other hand, married his ladder climber, and eventually she’d taken him to the cleaners.

  He watched as Steven gently held Moira in his arms and whispered to her. His brother had finally fallen in love. He couldn’t believe it. Steven couldn’t take his eyes off her, nor his lips. Yup, Dane thought, if Steven had his way, Moira was going be his sister-in-law.

  That posed a problem, because when he had seen her for the first time, he had fallen in love as well.

  Chapter Thirteen

  They parted company, finally saying good night to retreat to their hotel rooms. When they arrived at the Grand Palms Casino he parked the car in his reserved VIP spot, with his name on it. Moira sucked in her breath.

  He turned to her slowly, afraid of what he would see. “Yeah, I guess—”

  “Jesus, Steven,” she blurted.

  “Moira, calm down.”

  “I’m an idiot. Grand Palms, Palm Productions. Oh—God.” Her hand flew to her forehead, her fingers raking through her hair. “When you said you were getting us rooms at your hotel, I thought you meant where you were staying, I didn’t think—oh God.”

  “Sweetheart, let’s just go inside and relax.”

  She stared at him for a moment and then closed her eyes. “This is your hotel. I can’t believe I didn’t put it together sooner.”

  “You’re not an idiot,” he stated firmly.

  “Evening, Mr. Porter,”

  “Mr. Porter, good evening, sir.” The valets greeted him as he led her into the hotel.

  “We’re stopping for a nightcap,” he said quietly, guiding her toward the elevators.

  “There’s a lounge up there?” she asked.

  “Not exactly.”

  The elevator brought them to the top floor. They walked the entire length of the long hallway, and stopped at the last door.

  Looking back she said, “If you ran this twice a day, you’d be fit.”

  He unlocked the door and held it open for her. She blinked as she peered into the room, but she didn’t move. He expected her to take a step inside, but she didn’t. Her face suddenly changed into a veil of apprehension. “It has walls, a floor, and a ceiling,” he said gently.

  She clasped her hands together and brought them to her chest as if praying, squinting at him as if she were in pain. “When you’re with me, your just—Steven, but that’s not who you truly are. You’re an industry leader, a mogul.”

  He gazed into her eyes, seeing the fear mounting. “I don’t understand.” It was a lie. He did understand, but he didn’t want to.

  “I shouldn’t be here,” she admitted in a quiet voice, taking a step back. “I have to go.”

  He grasped her by the waist to stop her from bolting. “Listen to me. Look at me, Moira,” he demanded.

  She turned her concerned gaze up to him. “I know you have some crazy idea in your head that I’m above you in status, but it’s not true,” he said. “You belong here just as much as I do. We are the same, Moira. You’ve spent your life serving others, helping to save others, and I put my energy into what I did best. We’re the best at what we do, and we’ve both done it with integrity and hard work. I love that about you.”

  She didn’t look convinced at all. He threaded his fingers through her hair. He didn’t care that he’d become vulnerable in her hands, because he trusted her. “Don’t, run away from me, please.” He knew he sounded like he was pleading, but he didn’t give a shit.

  “No, Steven, I have to go. I know this is supposed to be in good fun, but I just can’t…I’m not…I just have to go,” she said apologetically, backing away from him. “Thank you, thank you for everything.” She pulled from his grasp and headed down the hallway, almost running.

  His heart sank. A door opened halfway down the hall, and she nearly ran into the guy exiting. He’d made a terrible mistake seven years ago not following his instincts and finding her then. As he watched her get farther away from him, he knew he had to decide—now. Either he let her go, like Dane thought he should or he—there was no choice.

  “Moira!” He ran down the hall. Folding her in his arms just as the elevator doors opened, he smiled tightly at the guy beside her. “We’ll wait for the next one.” The door closed, and he swung her around. “Moira, what the hell are you so scared of?”

  “I’m not scared,” she said scanning the carpet. “There’s no point in this.”

  “Because it doesn’t have a destination?” he asked gently.

  “You…” Her mouth opened in shock, as her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “You heard us? You heard what I said?” She reached out and punched the down button on the elevator.

  “Yes, I heard you, and it’s bullshit,” he ground out harsher than he wanted to.

  “It’s not, it’s the truth.”

  “Are we going to stand here in the hallway while we have our first argument, because I’m willing to fight for you, sweetheart.” He folded his hands around her upper arms. “You said you get into scraps all the time.” He glared at her. “Did I mention I’m brutal when it comes to negotiating? So bring it on, little lady.”

  “I’m not going to fight with you, Steven.” She slammed the down button with a clenched fist this time, and crossed her arms.

  She couldn’t hide her impatience. Something else he didn’t know about her, but did now. “Here’s how it’s going to go.” Before she had a chance to move, he hoisted her over his shoulder and headed down the hallway.

  “Are you crazy?” she wailed, pushing her hands against his back trying to thrust herself off his shoulders.

  “Yup,” he said, putting his hand on her ass for balance because she started to wiggle and fight. “Crazy about you, and you’re not running away.”

  “Steven, don’t be an ass,” she spit out. “Put me down right now.”

  “In a second, be patient.”

  “I am patient,” she snarled.

  “Like hell you are. Here I thought you were all calm and reserved, and you’re like a hissing, spitting kitten.”

  She really started to struggle then. He laughed at her. “You’re just expending energy you don’t have, Moira. You’re tired and cranky.”

  “Don’t call me cranky,” she shouted and smacked his shoulder.

  He pulled the keycard out of his pocket, laughing harder, and slid it through the reader. The light clicked to green, and he kicked the door open to the penthouse suite. He plunked her down on the couch and dropped on top of her as she fought to get up.

&n
bsp; Grasping her wrists, he drew her arms above her head. His tongue darted across her lips to entice them to open, but she pressed them tight like an ornery child. “You’re not going anywhere. So stop fighting me and talk to me.” He backed away from her, pulling her onto his lap but restraining her arms. She glared at him wickedly.

  “Be reasonable, Steven.”

  “I am being reasonable, and I can get rope,” he said, raising his brow.

  “What?”

  “Moira, you are absolutely, one hundred percent adorable. You’re also the first woman who has ever run away from me.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “For my entire life, it’s been the other way around.”

  “I’ll bet,” she said dryly. She stopped fighting him. “Just four walls a floor and a ceiling.” A small sarcastic laugh escaped her lips as her gaze drifted around the suite.

  “That’s right, it is. Now, are you going to run away if I make you a drink?” She bit the inside of her cheek and shook her head slowly. “Good girl.”

  “Don’t call me a girl, that pisses me off,” she warned.

  He clenched his teeth. She really was cranky.

  He wandered to the bar, glancing over his shoulder just to make sure she wasn’t darting for the door. Returning, he handed her a scotch and sat down beside her, taking a draw on his own drink. “I know what you’re afraid of.”

  “You don’t know squat.”

  His brows rose with humor seeing her sharpen her claws. “Yes, I do. You’ve spent your entire life alone, and being with me is scaring the hell out of you. It’s not because of who I am, but because your heart was broken once, and you won’t admit it.” She peered at him, obviously thinking about her argument. She couldn’t say anything that he wouldn’t have a rebuttal to. “The truth, Ms. Viterra.”

  Her shoulders slumped as she said, “In three lousy days, you’ve crept under my skin. That’s not supposed to happen. It has nothing to do with my marriage. It has everything to do with your life.”

  “And you’re mad about that because…? My life? What do you mean?”

  “In two days we go back to our separate worlds. You’ll have some young, beautiful thing on your couch, and I’ll go back to my world of the sea and my writing.” She scanned the suite. “Look at this place! It comes right out of the pages of Architectural Digest, heaven on earth, huge, expansive—elegant. Who the hell do you think you’re kidding? I don’t belong here.”

  “Moira, what do I have to say to convince you?”

  “We aren’t the same, but more importantly that’s the way it has to be or something terrible will happen to you.”

  He took her hand in his, kissing it to calm her down. “For a woman who’s spent her entire life listening to what people say, you don’t listen very well when it comes to you, do you?” His finger brushed the necklace he’d given her.

  She reached around to take the necklace off.

  He stopped her abruptly. “What are doing?” he said warily. “You better be reaching to take that off for bed and no other reason.” The serious look in her eyes told him otherwise.

  “No, I want you to take it back.”

  He gently pulled her hand away from the clasp and sighed. “You can’t accept any kindness from anyone, can you?”

  “Of course I can.” She rubbed her hands down her thighs. “I just can’t accept it from you.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t do people very well, Steven.” She reached for her glass and took a long sip. “They die or they move away, no one stays. I told you, I’ve gotten used to being alone.” She pushed herself from his lap and slid onto the couch. “I watch other people live full lives, have families. I watch the young people I work with meet the loves of their lives, get married, and eventually have babies. They have it all, and they deserve it all.” She shook her head. “But that’s not the life I have.”

  “Moira, you’re not too old to have a family,” he said quietly, his heart turning over.

  She laughed harshly. “Time went by so fast and before I knew it, I was forty. I’m most definitely too old.” She grasped a pillow and cradled it against her chest. “My family is the people I work with and the men and women I watch over. Most of them don’t even know how much I care about them, and they never have to.”

  “I saw that the first day I spent with you. I understand what they mean to you, but it doesn’t mean you have to run away from me, from us.” He rubbed her back gently with his hand.

  “Callie didn’t lie to you or embellish anything. I am unlucky, Steven. I draw bad things to me, and if you stand too close you’ll get hurt. The day after tomorrow, I go back to my life, and you’ll be safe again.” She pulled away from him and wandered over to the window. “This has been fun, but I really need to go. You’re right, I’m tired, exhausted really, I need to sleep.”

  Moira moved to leave, but he stepped up to her, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, turning her gently to stare at their reflection in the glass. “So you think you’re too old to find love, and you’re hexed by some gypsy curse that’s doomed you to disaster, does that sum it up?” he asked, resting his cheek against her hair.

  She bowed her head. “Steven, this is not a joke. I’m good with the life I have. I don’t need anything else.”

  “I know you don’t need anything. I know you don’t want anything, nor will you ever ask for anything, but don’t I deserve a chance?” he asked quietly. “Look at us, Moira,” he said, staring at their reflection. “I’m forty-five years old, and I’m holding on to the most beautiful woman I have ever known.”

  “When I finally met the only woman who’s ever taken my breath away, she’s a lone she-wolf, and she wants to run away from me because someone filled her head with lies.” He placed a soft kiss on her neck. “Did it ever occur to you that it’s not you that brings the bad luck, but instead you’re there to thwart it, like today?” He kissed the top of her head. “Give me a chance,” he whispered in her ear. “It might sound cliché, but I’m a better man when you’re beside me. I won’t hurt you, I promise, and I know you won’t hurt me.”

  She turned in his arms. “You can’t promise that. No one can make a promise like that,” she said.

  He leaned forward and brushed her lips with a kiss. “I just did promise, and I don’t break my promises.” He cuddled her. “We’re both tired. Let’s just sit down and relax,” he whispered into her hair.

  She resisted.

  He didn’t want to let her go, but he couldn’t stop her. His real fear was that he’d never see her again, and that thought made him cold.

  “You say I won’t ask for anything—you’re wrong. I asked you before what you want from me, because frankly I don’t have anything to give. You keep dropping hints as if there are tomorrows for us. There aren’t. I told you that already. I live in another country, far away from you. I’m not scared of you, I’m scared for you. I don’t belong here. I don’t belong in your world, and I’m not willing to take the chance that something will happen to you.” She pulled herself from his grasp, and put some space between them.

  Anger started to fire on all cylinders inside him, but it was anger born from frustration. “Do you want to know the truth, Moira? I’ll tell you what I told my brother this evening.”

  She clasped her hands together, her chin jutting in the air as he took a step toward her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Because I’m going to tell you the truth, you always want to hear that—right?” he said.

  Moira’s gaze swung to everything around her, except him. “I’m going to go. It’s been a long day. You need some sleep and so do I.”

  Obviously, she didn’t. He let her get halfway to the door. “Stay with me, Moira. Please, don’t walk out that door, because if you do, I know I’ll never see you again.” She stopped in her tracks. “I’ve blocked myself from everyone except my family. I haven’t trusted a soul, especially women. You’re not the only one who’s lived a lonely lif
e, but I never felt alone, until I met you.”

  She toed the carpet, concentrating on her foot. “I think I would go crazy wondering all the time, if I were you. Not knowing if the woman you’re with wants you for who you are. At least—that’s what Mandy thinks, and she’s a smart woman. Just by looking at someone, she somehow knows who’s good and who’s—not so good.”

  Mandy was an honest, down-to-earth kind of person, a lot like Moira in many ways. He knew how to read people as well, and he guessed that Mandy would be able to read him. “And what does she think of me?”

  She turned to face him. A tear rolled down her cheek. “She—she thinks you’re a decent man and that you want more than a vacation fling.”

  “She’s right.”

  “A man like you is not supposed to look twice at someone like me. It’s like a freak of nature, where a dog and cat fall in love.”

  “Are you falling in love with me, Moira?” he whispered. It was a good thing he had a strong heart, because he honestly thought it was about to explode.

  “No.”

  “You’re lying.” He pulled his jacket off, and tossed it over the dining room chair. “If you’re bent on leaving, answer me one question before you go?”

  She wrapped her arms around herself, waiting.

  “Why do I miss you? I’ve never missed anyone before. I hate the feeling I get when I’m not with you. That means something right?”

  “Las Vegas is all about indulgence, Steven. You came here for business and pleasure. I came here for a break as well. We–we’re friends,” she stuttered.

  “Friends?” He squeezed his lips together to stop from grinning. “I don’t make love to my friends, Moira. They don’t touch me, like you touch me. When I leave them, I don’t think about them every second I’m away from them.”

  She quickly brushed a tear away from her cheek, and looked him straight in the eyes. “Sometimes two people simply see something in each other that they can relate to or maybe it’s desire or want, I don’t know. They feel comfortable together, for a while, but then it always falls apart.”