“No, not entirely. Well, yes, perhaps,” Kora says, wiping her eyes. The back of her hand is dirty and she looks for a place to wipe it off. I guide her away from the lace on her dress and onto my towel.
“How do I know that I actually love him? I don’t feel butterflies anymore. What if I’m not in love with him anymore? What if I’m marrying someone who’s a stranger?”
“Well, the one thing you know for sure,” I say squeezing her hand. “Is that you’re not marrying a stranger. You and Liam have been together for a long time. You know him. And you know that he loves you.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve never seen anyone look at a woman like he looks at you. He oozes love for you.”
“Really?” Kora’s eyes light up.
“Yes,” I nod. “And those butterflies. You’ll feel those again when you walk down the aisle.”
“And what if I don’t?”
“If you don’t, then you can just write them off to something you feel when you don’t really know someone. Relationships are different in the beginning than they are later on. But what you two have is so much more solid and strong. Butterflies come and go.”
“But what if I never feel them again?” she asks.
What the fuck is with these butterflies? I say to myself. But I can’t just leave her hanging. I have to convince her, not remind her, of who they are as a couple and how much love they have.
“You will feel them again when you two do something that you’ve never done before,” I finally say.
“Like what?”
“Like when you buy your first house together. Like when you find out that you’re pregnant. Like when you decorate your nursery. Would you like to do those things with Liam?”
“More than anything,” she says through the sobs.
“See. That’s my point exactly! Butterflies are just things that happen when something is new. In the beginning, it’s the relationship itself. Everything about it is new. Everything you do with that person is magical, because you haven’t done it with anyone else. And later on, you’ll get those same butterflies when you do new things together. Experience something exciting.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Kora mumbles, wiping her tears.
“Maybe? Maybe? No, I am right,” I say confidently. She cracks a smile.
“I think I should head back. The makeup people have their work cut out for them.”
I nod. She doesn’t even know the half of it. I give Kora a warm hug and watch her walk away.
Chapter 21 - Logan
Liam sucks at golf. I don’t know why the hell he has dragged me out here at the crack of dawn to play a round. My favor to him is that I’ll play with him, not that I’ll let him win. I’d prefer sailing. The resort has a beautiful restored, fifty-footer sitting out front. I love the spray of the ocean in my hair and the warmth of the sun on my face. Here, on the golf course, the sun feels more like it is scorching my face as a punishment.
I’m driving the golf cart. Liam looks ahead absentmindedly.
“How are you and Avery doing?”
“Fine,” I nod. Are we really here to talk about that?
“You seem really happy with her? Is she a keeper?”
I look at him. Scrutinize his face. What is the meaning of this? But Liam looks genuinely interested.
“I like her. A lot.”
“I know that’s not something you often admit.”
“No, it’s not. But honestly, it’s not something I ever really felt before.”
“What do you mean?”
“We just have this connection, you know. I feel like she gets me. And I get her.”
Liam smiles, nods. I turn the conversation back to him.
“I’m sure that’s exactly how you felt with Kora,” I say. And then I catch myself. “I mean, I’m sure that’s how you feel about Kora.”
“It was and it is, I guess.”
“That doesn’t sound too convincing.”
Liam doesn’t respond.
“Did you two have a fight or something?”
He shakes his head.
“No. Nothing major, anyway. I just don’t know if this is the right thing to do.”
“What? The wedding?” I stop the golf cart.
“Why are you stopping?”
“There’s no one here anyway. What’s going on?” I ask. I’ve never heard him talk like this. I’m not the biggest fan of Kora, but I know that he loves her. Something big is up. Unfortunately, I’m not the guy to handle it.
“It’s just that she has wanted to get married forever.”
“I know. She has been quite a nag.”
“I wouldn’t call it that,” Liam says, “but yes, she has been a little annoying.”
“Why didn’t you?” I ask. This is something I’ve been meaning to ask him forever. He and Kora have been together for many years. And by together, I mean tied at the hip. They were practically married as is, they just never bothered to have a party or do the paperwork.
“Why didn’t I what?”
“Why didn’t you want to get married? I thought you two were solid. You never dated anyone else. And neither has she. Not that I know of, of course,” I say.
“No, we have been faithful. Very faithful, actually.”
I didn’t know there was such a thing – too faithful – but okay.
“I never knew that you wanted to be with anyone else,” I say it in the most polite way that I can.
“I never did. And I don’t now.”
“So what’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” Liam shakes his head. “I guess I’m just scared. I mean, it’s just going to be Kora for the rest of my life. One woman. Wouldn’t that scare you?”
“Well, yes, of course,” I shrug, “but I’m completely different from you. You were with Kora and no one else for years. And you didn’t have any second thoughts. You don’t want to be with anyone else. Getting married isn’t going to change that.”
“It won’t?”
“No,” I shake my head. “Besides, if anything changes between you two and you no longer want to be with her, there’s always divorce.”
He looks at me, and we both crack up laughing.
“You’re such an asshole,” he says through the laughter.
“I’m not the one thinking of standing up my bride on our wedding day,” I joke. “C’mon let’s play some golf.”
After a few long and blisteringly hot hours on the golf course, I get back to the room for some peace and quiet. I look at my phone. I’d like to go for a swim and then make love to Avery again, but there’s not much time. Besides, she’s nowhere to be found. Instead, I sit back against the headboard and do something that I’ve never done before: research the target that I’m supposed to eliminate tonight.
Don’t you just love that kind of language? Instead of a person, a human being, we say ‘target.’ Instead of kill or murder or assassinate, we say ‘eliminate.’ It’s supposed to make things impersonal, but the people in the government who have created that language are not the ones actually tasked with the elimination. They aren’t the ones who pulled the trigger. They aren’t the ones who have to watch the target’s family gather around and try to bring him back to life. No, to them they are just numbers. Successes or failures. But no amount of detached, corporate bullshit speak is going to make them that to me.
I scan some articles about Sanchez from the New York Times, The Telegraph and some other uncensored South American newspapers. From the English-speaking newspapers, he comes off a dictator. A strong man who consolidated power based on his control of the military and his charisma. Basically, a fascist. But the Spanish-speaking newspapers are probably more spot on. Ever since he took power, thousands of young people have disappeared never to be heard from again. There are rumors of secret torture camps in jungles. Not one person who has been arrested has been found. The families have given up all hope. The major newspaper from Buenos Aires repeatedly refers to him
as ‘The Butcher of El Salvador.” And I know that they do not exaggerate and do not flirt with the truth the same way many American and English newspapers do.
Fine, I decide, turning off my phone. As much as I don’t agree with political assassinations and as much as I hate my job, I have to do this. I can’t screw this up. Sanchez has to go. And, if I retire after this mission, perhaps taking out this guy isn’t so bad.
Chapter 22 - Avery
“Wow, you look…” Logan says, trying to find the right words, “amazing.”
I smile. He’s actually speechless. I wasn’t expecting that, but it’s a nice surprise. I never thought that a man who seems to have everything – he does have a private plane – would be left speechless by an average girl like me. I glance at myself in the mirror. Though, I have to admit, I do clean up nice.
I’m wearing a light pink dress, which is crafted in organza with panels of lace and tulle. Cynthia helped me pick it out and said that it was perfect because it managed to balance a simple silhouette with feminine drama – whatever that hell that means. Personally, I like it because it’s sleeveless and tight-fitting, accentuating my waist and bringing extra attention to my cleavage. You can never go wrong with that. It’s cut right above the knee, bringing attention to my sun-kissed legs.
“You look really good too,” I say, giving him a brief hug and peck on the cheek. He wraps his hand around my waist, pulling me close to him, but I press my index finger onto his lips before they reach mine.
“Uh, uh, uh,” I say flirtatiously.
“Oh c’mon,” he shrugs his shoulders from exasperation. “You can’t look this good and not let me kiss you.”
“Do you know how long it took me to do this makeup? I’m not a natural at it, you know. And I just got the lipstick just right.”
He smiles and extends his arm to me. I take take it and we proceed out of the suite.
“Look at us,” Logan whispers. “We already sound like an old married couple.”
He’s right! Oh my God! The idea sends shivers down my spine. He can’t be serious. I look up at him. I expect to see an expression of panic at what he had just said, but instead he seems to be at peace with it. It’s a joke, of course, but then it’s not a joke. We walk the rest of the way to the wedding in silence.
I love how dashing and handsome Logan looks in his classic fit, light beige suit. The light blue tie brings out his eyes and, after a day in the sun, a bit of his old tan is coming back. As he leads me down the long, marble staircase, I feel like a princess.
The lobby of the hotel blends in with the outside world. Its twelve-foot floor-to-ceiling windows are always open, blending seamlessly with the sand and the ocean outside. The light breeze, which sways the kneeling palm trees, enters the lobby, consuming the senses with an aroma of salt and freedom.
The ceremony is held outside in a tropical garden. Logan shows me to my seat and goes up to the front to stand with Liam. I look around in awe. This lush, sun-drenched setting is arranged in such a way that it allows nature to take the lead. There are rows of white chairs facing the ocean, and the simple bamboo arch is decorated in dahlias. The palms in this area of the garden seem to kneel inward, as if by design, to create more intimacy for the space. The ceremony itself is romantic and touching. Liam and Kora wrote their own vows and neither can get through theirs without crying. This makes everyone at the ceremony tear up, including me.
After cocktails at the beach, we are lead back to the dining hall for the reception. Tall candles with matched and mismatched brass candleholders dot the dining hall, making the place feel magical. Calligraphed escort cards topped with delicate crowns complement the nature-centered theme, and eclectic vintage chairs make the place feel historically romantic. The tables are topped with many different tapered candles and lush, low centerpieces of dahlias. Single-blossom accents wind their way down the length of the table. The color palette of a spectrum of soft greens and creamy tones with notes of blush and coral matches the surroundings.
“Isn’t this place just magnificent?” Dolly comes over to me.
“Oh my God, it’s gorgeous,” I say, giving her a warm hug. She’s dressed in a tight, lavender dress and adorned with large diamonds around her neck, ears and hands.
“I’m glad that you decided to come,” she says. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I nod.
“I hate to admit this, but I think you were right about Logan. We do seem to make a good match.”
Dolly’s eyes light up.
“It’s definitely a risk,” she says, “but I’m glad to hear that it’s working out.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you know, Logan doesn’t have the best reputation when it comes to women. I mean, women love him and he loves them. But for a long time, I had my doubts that he would be happy with just any one woman.”
I take a deep sigh. Perhaps, he won’t be.
“But after talking to him about you. Let’s just say that you have made quite an impression.”
“What did he say?”
“He said that you make him feel like no other woman ever has.”
“Oh wow,” I smile. “That’s…nice to hear.”
“Hey there,” Logan comes over and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Aunt Dolly.”
“Logan,” Dolly says raising her eyebrows with a mischievous look on her face.
“I hope you two aren’t gossiping about me,” he says.
“Oh you know me better than that,” she waves her hand. I’m not sure how big the diamond ring is that she’s wearing on her left hand, but it looks heavy.
“Of course, we were gossiping,” Dolly smiles at him. Logan shakes his head.
“Then I hope you were saying something nice.”
“Of course,” she says.
“Avery?” he turns to me.
“Actually, Dolly here was telling me that you apparently have the hots for me,” I say. I’ve had two glasses of champagne already, and it has gone straight to my head.
“I have the hots for you? Is that what she said?” he asks, jokingly. “I’m sure that’s exactly the words that she used.”
“Okay, so she didn’t say that,” I say, smiling at Dolly. “What she said is that I apparently make you feel like no other girl ever has.”
“Oh my, Dolly. You’ve been bad,” he wags his finger at her. “That was a private conversation.”
“I know I’m sorry,” she shrugs.
“Well, is it true?” I ask. I would never have had the courage to talk like this if I weren’t a little tipsy. They don’t call it liquid courage for nothing.
Logan looks straight at me. His eyes narrow, as if he’s evaluating if I really want to know the answer. For a moment, I feel like he’s going to say no, but then he flashes his pearly whites at me.
“Of course,” he says with total confidence. “I haven’t met anyone like you before.”
I smile. We are locked in a moment. When I finally catch myself and look around, I see that Dolly has disappeared.
“She left,” Logan whispers not breaking eye contact with me. His gaze is intense, and it sends shivers down my whole body.
“She really knows the right time to exit,” I say.
“Well, she is a professional.”
It’s one of those exchanges where we are talking about one thing, but thinking another. The words don’t matter, and I don’t even know why we’re saying them, except that there’s the social expectation that something needs to be said.
His eyes finally let go of mine and travel down to my lips and then my neck and toward the top of my breasts. I can feel his gaze on me. It is so exhilarating and erotic that my feet grow numb.
“Do you want to go somewhere?” he whispers. I nod.
A few minutes later, we’re alone in our suite. All the windows and the doors to the patio are open, and there’s a nice salty breeze circulating around the place. Moonlight streams in turning everything in the place a mysterious si
lver-grey tone. Neither of us dares to turn on the lights.
I head toward the bed, but Logan stops me in the middle of the room. He leans into me. His fingers run along my jawline and bury themselves in my hair. Slowly, he removes some of the hairpins and lets them drop. They make little dinging sounds when they hit the floor. He takes a step closer to me. I feel the unevenness of his breath on my lips. I wait for our lips to touch, but he surprises me. He demands that I wait. Instead, he leans down and runs his lips over my neck. Gently. Quietly.
I bury my hands in his hair and pull his head toward mine. I have to taste him. I have to touch his tongue with mine. When our lips finally meet, shivers run down my body. His tongue feels rough and strong. He grabs my face and kisses me more passionately with each breath. He’s kissing me as if he’s trying to prove something. I like it. A lot. He devours me, and I devour him.
Suddenly, he pulls away from me, and takes a step back. His eyes run over my body, from top to bottom. I try to approach him, but he puts me back into place.
“What…” I’m about to ask him what he’s doing. But he puts his index finger on his lips.
“Shhhh,” he whispers. He walks around me and unzips my dress. It falls effortlessly to the floor. He undoes my strapless bra and then grabs at my breasts. Slowly, with kisses, he makes his way to the front of my body and places one of my nipples into his mouth. He’s gentle at first, carefully playing with it, as if it were a bing cherry. Warmth courses through my body, and I feel like I’m running a fever. My knees grow weak, and I lean on him for support. His body is hard and sturdy, and it holds me up seemingly without much effort.
In the meantime, Logan’s kisses intensify. He moves on to my other breast, squeezing my nipple in between his teeth, and toeing the line between pleasure and pain. I remove his jacket and tie and unbuckle his belt. His underpants fall to the floor. My hands feel rushed, and they shake in anticipation. At first, he doesn’t cooperate, but eventually gives in. I run my fingers over his hard abs, each pectoral muscle is illuminated by the light of the moon. He looks photoshopped. For a brief second, I worry about my own less than perfect body, but when he kneels down before me, placing all of my breast into his mouth, all of my insecurities vanish.
Auctioned to Him Book 8 Page 58
