by K. M. Scott
Sheepishly, I apologized. “I’m sorry. If it makes you feel better, I had a pretty rotten day.”
“Yes. Yes, that makes me feel much better.” She rolled her eyes. “Now that I know you think I’m some kind of harpy, why don’t you tell me why your day sucked?”
“Same old, same old. I’d rather hear about your class.”
“And I’d rather talk about you wearing your engagement ring again. I’m happy to see that, but I’m wondering why now? Was there some news from Grizzly Adams today?”
Jordan’s snarkiness always brought out a smile in me. Looking down at the diamond ring on my left hand, I shook my head. “No, no news. I just thought it was right.”
She raised her hand to cover her eyes. “It’s giving off a glare that’s blinding. That man of yours sure does know how to give a gift.”
I spread my fingers and moved my hand back and forth. “He does.”
“I don’t think my eyes can take what he’ll be getting you after his little absence.”
Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. “Funny. Just drink your flat soda.”
“I want you to know that I’m going to miss us sharing a place again, Nina. It was like old times, except in a place ten times the size. With a pool. And a kitchen you could fit a small house in.”
“You’re just going to miss being so close to my hot bodyguard. Anyway, it’s not like you’re moving any time soon. Daryl didn’t have any news about Tristan or if he’d be coming back,” I admitted sadly.
Jordan reached over and covered my hand with hers. “When, honey. When.”
Nodding, I smiled at her effort to cheer me up. “I know. When. When he’s coming back.”
“And as for Varo, I’m not going to deny it. I’ll be all over him like white on rice the moment he gives me the chance.”
After so much pizza my pants didn’t feel like they fit right anymore, we found Jensen waiting outside for us and got in the car for our ride home. West and Varo didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight, much to Jordan’s disappointment, but I knew that meant nothing. As big as they were, they seemed to know how to blend in so they weren’t seen. All the better. I rarely had anything to say to them, and even though I’d pretended all through dinner that Tony’s didn’t make me sad, the fact was that Jordan had been right.
I still wasn’t ready to deal with all the memories.
Climbing into bed, I closed my eyes to remember when Tristan and I were together, happy and in love.
The warm summer air drifted in through the window, lightly billowing the deep green sheers and carrying the sweet scent of honeysuckle across the room to where we sat. Still dressed in his suit and tie, Tristan leaned against the back of the couch and closed his eyes.
I loved these moments together, just the two of us sitting quietly at the end of the day, not saying a thing to ruin the peaceful silence we shared. For me, this was a change. All my life, I’d filled in the gaps with words rather than experience an awkward silence, but with Tristan, I’d learned to appreciate that silence. Sliding my finger down his red silk tie, I watched a sly smile slowly spread across his lips.
“Did I ever tell you how much I love this after a long day?”
He opened his eyes, and I saw how much these moments meant to him. “Yes, but not yet today,” I teased.
Tristan sighed and reached out to touch my hand. “All day I look forward to these moments. No more people wanting me for a thousand reasons. No more caring about hotels and the bottom line of the other Stone Worldwide businesses. Just quiet and you.”
Even though we hadn’t said the words “I love you” yet to each other, it was obvious in every other word and every action. We didn’t need to say that to know we loved one another. It was the first time in my life that I truly knew how a man felt about me.
I rested my head on his chest and listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat next to my cheek. That steadiness made me feel secure like never before in my life. For all the strangeness that had been a part of our meeting, we’d settled into a sweet space that gave me a sense of stability I’d never known I wanted but now never wanted to be without.
Slowly, his fingers trailed up and down my back. “Tell me about your day,” he whispered above me.
“You don’t want to hear about my boring day full of art.”
I knew how he felt about the artwork I chose for the suites and penthouses. He pretended to be interested, but the man was no art lover. That’s what I was in his life for.
“I’d listen just to hear you speak.”
Lifting my head, I looked up at him and saw that sexy look in his eyes. “Is that what you really want?” I teased.
“Want to know what I really want?”
I loved this Tristan, the playful, gentle soul who could be so open and sweet and who so infrequently showed himself. Charmed, I would have done anything he asked. He had that effect on me.
“I can guess,” I said with a wink. “I thought you were tired, but I like the way you think.”
He eased me off him, and standing up, held his hand out to me. “Come.”
I joined him and expected to be led to the bedroom we now shared, but instead he smiled and whispered, “Don’t move.”
Walking over to the opposite side of the room, he dimmed the lights until the room glowed a soft amber color. I watched him do something in the corner before he returned and pulled me close. Kissing the top of my head, he whispered, “May I have this dance?”
I looked around and waited for music, but none came. “Tristan, what are we dancing to?”
“Give it a second.”
Very slowly, he began swaying back and forth as he held me to him. At least ten seconds went by and then I heard the first sad notes of a song I hadn’t heard in ages. I remembered it instantly.
Nothing Compares 2U by Sinead O’Connor.
While we danced there in the sitting room where we’d first kissed, Tristan whispered the words of the song to me, nearly breaking my heart. He sounded so sad. The song ended and another one I’d never heard began as we continued to slowly sway to the music. Quietly, he said, “When I was a little boy, I heard that song every day. My mother loved it and played it over and over.”
Looking up at him, I said, “I never took you for a Sinead O’Connor fan. It’s a pretty song, but not one I’d think of for you.”
He smiled and shook his head. “I’ve never heard another song by her. All I know is that song.”
“You know all the words.”
“It’s hard not to after hearing it hundreds of times.”
We fell silent for a few moments as we held each other, and I listened to the song playing. “Do you know the words to this one?” I asked him while we danced.
He seemed lost in memory as he looked off in the distance, squeezing me tightly to him. “No. Just that first one.”
“Is everything okay, Tristan? You seem a million miles away.”
My question was met with a smile, and he looked down at me. “Just thinking. I never did understand why she listened to that song so often. Taylor hated it and would run out of the room every time she put it on. She’d just smile and begin singing the words.”
I wanted to ask about his mother. Her beautiful face had stayed in my mind since that first time I’d seen her in their family portrait, but the way Tristan’s mouth always turned down slightly whenever his family was mentioned stopped me every time.
“I think it’s nice that it reminds you of her.”
Tristan stopped dancing and kissed me softly on the lips. “It doesn’t anymore. I heard it this afternoon in a store and realized it reminded me of you.”
“Me? But isn’t the song about how she feels after losing the one she loved?” I asked as a tiny lick of fear took hold of my heart. Was he breaking up with me?
He was silent for so long that I was sure the next words out of his mouth would be to tell me it was over. Bracing myself for the news, I held on to his forearms and waited, each second tick
ing by making my heart hurt.
I watched as his expression changed to one so serious that my breath caught in my throat, and then he said in a low voice, “No. It reminds me of you because that’s how I’d feel if I lost you. Nothing and no one compares to you, Nina.”
When he said things like that, my insides felt like molten lava. Never before had any man made me feel so wanted, so desired. His mouth covered mine in a kiss so deep and full of need that my legs buckled. Tristan caught me by the waist and pulled me hard against him, his stiff cock pressing against my body.
“See what you do to me? All the way home all I could think about was relaxing with you and now look. Obviously, my body knows something my brain doesn’t.”
“I did that, huh?” I asked with a grin as I ran my hand over the front of his suit pants, my body reacting to his excitement.
Leaning over, he nipped my earlobe and whispered, “Yeah, you did that. Turnabout’s fair play too.”
He lifted the little cotton skirt I wore and cupped my ass. Slipping his finger under my panties, he ran his fingertip up my already wet pussy, just grazing my throbbing clit. So skilled at knowing exactly how to tease me, he lingered there for just a moment before he moved away, making my body ache for his touch.
“Tristan, don’t make me wait,” I said with a moan as he stepped away from me to unknot his tie and slip it from around his neck.
“Don’t move,” he commanded, and I stood still watching him remove his black suit coat and begin to unbutton his white dress shirt.
I reached out to help him with the buttons, and he took another step back from me. “I told you not to move, Nina.”
Filling my gaze with the sight of his perfectly sculpted body, I watched as he finished with the buttons and slid out of his shirt. “Why won’t you let me help?” I asked, eager to feel his skin under my touch.
A look of unhappiness crossed his features for just a moment, like he didn’t enjoy me wanting him so much, but before I could ask if anything was wrong, his expression changed and he was that same incredibly sexy Tristan I couldn’t get enough of. He extended his hand, and I moved toward him, timidly touching the buckle of his belt as I stared up into his deep brown eyes.
“I so much want you to be happy, Nina,” he said in a low voice as I began to undo his belt and pants, his eyes searching for an answer to some unspoken question or doubt he had about us. Did he think I wasn’t happy?
His zipper slid open and all that stood between my hand and his cock was the cotton of his boxer briefs. Running my finger over the flat planes of his abdomen, I skimmed the tip of his cock. “I am happy, Tristan. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He left my question unanswered and tugged my skirt over my hips, along with my panties as I stroked him from base to tip. Lifting my T-shirt up over my head, he moaned my name, telling me how much he wanted me.
I hurried out of my bra and followed him to the sofa, straddling him as he pulled me down on top of him. With one long thrust, he slid into me until there was nothing separating us. He held me still so he remained deep inside me, pushing on my hips as he kissed me hard. I wanted to move, to ride him until I came so hard my thighs shook, but I couldn’t budge. I didn’t think I could want him more, but somehow not being able to feel him moving in and out of my body made me almost desperate for him.
“Tristan, don’t make me beg,” I whispered into his ear. “You’re driving me crazy.”
“So impatient. If I move my hands, are you going to move?”
I looked into those eyes and saw he wanted me as much as I wanted him. I just couldn’t understand why he didn’t want to admit it then. “I’m going to ride your cock like it’s never been ridden and fuck you like I know you want.”
With anyone else, I would’ve been embarrassed to say those words, but with Tristan, I felt nothing but the desire to make him happy. Maybe that was why he always seemed to be so interested in my happiness—because he wanted to be happy too. I wanted to be the woman who gave him that.
Silently, he stared up at me and moved his hands from my hips, giving me the freedom to do just as I promised. With every tilt of my hips and every thrust of his cock, we raced toward that happiness we gave one another. His hands guided my movement, and mine clutched his broad shoulders until my body exploded into a million pieces, each one sublimely happy and fulfilled. Moments later, he plunged into me one last time and came almost violently, as if some demon inside of him released its control over him to me.
Smoothing the tiny beads of sweat from his forehead, I smiled down into that gorgeous face now so placid as he stared up at me. I loved him, even if I had never said the words, and I knew he loved me. We shared a need for each other that went far beyond what our bodies craved, and I cherished that vulnerable part deep inside him that he showed me in moments like this.
The memory of that night left me longing to hold him and tell him I missed him. Nothing compared to him for me. He was everything to me, and I was lost without him.
Chapter Two
Tristan
Mid-afternoon was the hardest. I could deal with early morning. I felt like shit the moment I opened my eyes, but I could handle it. Nina’s texts after I’d been up for hours doing nothing but thinking—that killed me. Every day I had to talk myself out of calling her and hearing her sweet voice tell me she missed me. I knew I shouldn’t, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want to.
I scrolled through months of texts, feeling worse with each passing one. Telling myself what I was doing was for her benefit did little to make me feel like a hero in this. Four months had gone by, and other than feeling like I wanted to die most days because of what I was putting Nina through, I was no closer to finding out what Karl believed was in Joseph Edwards’ notebook. I’d read it from cover to cover, dozens of times reliving the horror of what my father and Taylor had done, but still I couldn’t find the slightest detail to explain why my possessing those notes meant anything to Karl or the Board.
Each day I spent hours emotionally crucifying myself, only to hear my phone vibrate in front of me with Nina’s good morning text that never failed to rip my heart out. I imagined her waking up in our bed alone, all curled up like she always was in the morning, her hair all tousled and that sleepy look on her face.
Fucking hell! How long was I going to have to pay for what my father and brother did?
The first few months I barely remembered. Between the coke and the alcohol, I’d succeeded in losing days at a time, intent on finding some way of blunting my unhappiness. Easier than facing reality, all the self-abuse ended up achieving was making me feel worse.
Hidden in this secret place no one but Daryl knew about, I was more dead than alive, except for those moments when Nina’s messages jolted me out of my own personal hell to the one I shared with her. I had all the money I could want in this world, but it was meaningless without her. I wanted for nothing but for the one thing my life with her had given me.
Love. With Nina, I finally understood what it meant to love and be loved. We’d endured her accident and even her learning the truth this time. I’d known by the end of that first day away that she’d forgive me, which made having to stay here even harder. Every ounce of my being wanted to return to her, but I had to find out what Karl was looking for first.
If you see these, you need to know that today’s a hard day for me. It’s never easy, but today’s really hard. I miss you so much.
I wanted to text back and tell her I missed her too. How I would have given anything to hear her ask one of her questions, even the ones that put me on the spot and I didn’t want to answer. How just the thought of sharing a pitcher of semi-flat birch beer and a tray of pizza at our favorite restaurant made me more homesick than I’d ever been in my life.
But I couldn’t. I didn’t want to risk putting her in danger any more than I already had.
Two hours later, my phone vibrated across the tabletop again, and I looked down to see not a message from Nina but one from Daryl. He
only texted after he’d seen her or when he had something important about Karl to tell me, so I read his message with a knot forming in the pit of my stomach.
Coming to see you. We need to talk. See you tomorrow afternoon.
I looked around at the mess of my rooms in this place I’d visited first as a child with my mother. The old hotel she’d fallen in love with was now a building under construction, except for this part I’d taken over. Dirty clothes hung over the backs of chairs, unwashed dishes sat on the table and piled high in the kitchen sink, and newspapers lay strewn across the couch I sat on and the floor next to me. Too fucking bad if Daryl had a problem with the way things looked. He’d complained the last time he’d come to see me, not that I cared then either. I didn’t need him to act like a parent. I needed him to act like a fucking detective and find out what I couldn’t so I could get home to the woman I loved.
A knock at the door nearly fifteen hours later had me face to face with Daryl. Looking exactly like someone who’d flown business class for over half a day, he nearly fell into the recliner across from the couch.
“Remind me again why your damn plane couldn’t fly me here?”
“Karl would know where I was if he found out the company jet was flown somewhere.”
“I swear I’m going to end up killing that bastard myself after my return flight,” Daryl groaned as he arched his back in pain. “Do you have any idea how terrible business class is from New York to Bucharest? Women in labor for days feel better than I do right now. Any chance you know a chiropractor here?”
“Are you here just to complain? You’re supposed to be my detective, so please tell me you have something instead of whining about a bad flight.”
“And you think I sound cranky? Is this what you get like when you’re removed from power?”
