Only His Touch: Part One (The Untouched Series Book 4)

by Lilly Wilde

  “I was anxious to get back to you and Lyric. Where is he?”

  “I just put him down for a nap.”

  Aiden kissed me for what seemed like forever, and then I motioned for him to set me on my feet. It felt as though I hadn’t seen him in weeks, and I just wanted to look at him.

  “Well, since Lyric’s asleep, I guess that means I can concentrate all my attention on giving you a proper welcome home.”

  He grinned and went for my breasts, pinching my nipples. “There’s nothing proper about the kind of welcome I want.”

  I squealed as he again lifted me in his arms…but this time, he carried me upstairs.

  Chapter Ten

  Since Aiden’s return from Mumbai, his involvement with Raine Industries gradually changed—he was at the office more and more, often working well into the night. There were abrupt business trips and missed dinners, and he and I were having one argument after another about it. He insisted his involvement with R.I. was temporary, but it had already taken a toll on our relationship.

  When Aiden was in town though, he made sure he was the one to feed the baby every morning, and regardless of the hour he came home, he went directly to the nursery to spend time with Lyric. And since Lyric wasn’t yet sleeping through the night, Aiden often woke up in the wee hours to get him settled again.

  * * *

  Aiden had arrived home late last night after another week-long trip, and quite frankly, I was growing tired of his absence. The following morning, I found him in the kitchen, dressed for work, and getting a cup of coffee.

  I didn’t bother with a good morning. “You promised you were done with this—that things wouldn’t be like they were before. That you’d be here for Lyric.”

  “And I am here for him,” Aiden replied. “Don’t insinuate anything different.”

  I knew this was a sensitive topic because Connor had always placed Aiden on the backburner when it came to work. I hated to bring it up, but I couldn’t just blow this off…the stories Aiden had shared with me about his father’s absence in his childhood were starting to hit too close to home.

  Aiden let out a sigh. “What’s the problem?” he asked.

  “As you’ve said countless times over the last few weeks—there isn’t one.”

  “Then why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.

  “Like what?”

  “Like you don’t know me,” he said.

  Because I no longer recognized him. That’s why. “I thought I did.”

  “I’m pressed for time, so can we talk about this later?”

  “Sure,” I replied, waving him off.

  He walked over to me and placed his palm on my cheek, rubbing his thumb back and forth as he stared into my eyes. “You know who I am. You know me better than anyone. I’m the man who loves you, who adores you. I’m the man who wants to give you everything you ever wanted.” He kissed my forehead. And then he was gone.

  * * *

  I hadn’t heard from Aiden all day. The sense of disconnect was an all too familiar feeling, and if I was worried before, I was on high alert now. I’d started dinner and set the table for two, thinking Aiden would be home to join me, but I ended up eating alone as I reviewed RPH reports.

  The new imprint was off to a good start, but we’d have to push out some deadlines because one of the new authors had to step away from his book to attend to some pressing family matters. I was trying to figure a way around that when my phone pinged. It was a text from Aiden.

  I just finished a business dinner. Headed back to the office to get some work done. Don’t wait up for me. Looks like it’s going be a late night.

  Again?

  Please don’t start in on me.

  Yeah. Whatever.

  I tossed the phone on the table and stared at it like it was my enemy. Why would he stay late at R.I. when he could just as easily work from his home office? Unless his reason for staying away was to protect his secrets. He didn’t want me to see or hear anything. This wasn’t working for me and I wasn’t sure how long I’d go along with it. But then again, this was something I was supposed to do, right? Hang in there and weather the storm? But what if the storm tossed me overboard?

  After a long night of mental anguish, I finally headed upstairs to bed. Aiden still wasn’t home, and therefore I had a hard time falling asleep. After an endless spell of tossing and turning, and missing Aiden, I wandered downstairs for a cup of tea.

  I was surprised to find Aiden was already home. Why hadn’t he come to bed? I walked into the living room and there he was—sitting at the piano. He pressed one key, and the tone danced across the room. Then he pressed another, a lower tone this time. It sounded as ominous as I’d been feeling lately. I stepped further into view, and he looked up. There was something in his expression that I didn’t recognize.

  “Are you okay?” I asked. “Why didn’t you come to bed?”

  “Too wired to sleep,” he replied, and rested his arms over the top of the piano.

  “Same here.”

  “Maybe we’re both in need of a nightcap and a lullaby. Why don’t you pour us a drink and I’ll play something. Anything you like. How about something classical? Mozart, Bach, Puccini?”

  “Surprise me.”

  I prepared our drinks and turned toward him just as the beginning of one of my favorite pieces filled the room. I sat on the bench beside Aiden, and watched his fingers caress the keys with a magnificence that continued to astound me. I glanced at him, and noticed that he seemed to relax more with each stanza. The Aiden I recognized and adored had taken the place of the distant and moody Aiden I’d been sharing a home with as of late. He pressed one final key, and as the sound faded, he reached for his drink.

  “That was beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” He gulped his liquor and placed the glass on the piano. “Are you ready to start your lessons again?”

  How was that possible when he was hardly ever home? “Are you planning to be here to teach me, or do I need to call Vincent?” I spit out.

  “Aria, please.” He shook his head and tossed me a warning look.

  I didn’t want to fight either, so I simply replied, “I’d love that.”

  He gently grasped the back of my head and leaned forward, touching his forehead to mine. He let out a sigh and then looked at me. His gaze was tender, yet powerful, and it pulled me into a world that made me forget everything else.

  “Let me love you,” he whispered.

  “Yes.”

  And with that, he lifted me from the bench and carried me to a night of sweet and gentle kisses, a night of deep and tender love that reestablished our connection and left me yearning for more.

  * * *

  The next morning Aiden casually announced he was headed out of town for a couple of days on business. So he’d returned from his last trip only to be home for a day? Why not just stay gone? I didn’t bother saying anything beyond wishing him a good trip. But dammit, I’d had enough—I was going straight to the source of the problem this time.

  As soon as Aiden left, I called the main house for Connor, but was told he was at R.I. My next move was to phone Dianna and ask her to watch Lyric. Once she arrived, I headed for Raine Towers.

  * * *

  I stepped from the elevators, and without allowing his assistant the opportunity to announce me, I stormed into Connor’s office.

  “Why are you doing this? Why can’t you just let Aiden go? Why can’t you let him be happy?” I demanded.

  Connor looked at me, and although irritated by my unexpected arrival, he was the image of calm. Like every member of the Raine family, he was very attractive, and he carried himself with the same steely, almost intimidating, control as Aiden.

  He gave me a patronizing smile, and then glanced at the two gentlemen sitting in his office. “Let’s table this for now. We can meet next week to discuss your progress,” Connor said.

  “Yes sir,” said one of the
men, and they filed out of his office, closing the door behind them.

  Connor looked up at me and gestured for me to have a seat. When I didn’t move, he asked, “Aria, what do you think I’ve done?”

  “Don’t play games with me, Connor.”

  “Can I tell you, in all the years I’ve had this company, no one has ever entered my office unannounced, nor have they spoken to me in this fashion.”

  “Well, maybe they should have. But I’m not here to discuss your history of business etiquette.”

  Connor reclined in his seat and placed his hands on the armrest. “So tell me…why do you think I should let my son go?”

  “He has a right to have his own life, free of this company if he so chooses. He was trying to do that, to let this side of his life go, but you’ve done something to pull him back in. Why?” I asked, searching Connor’s eyes.

  “Aiden has a son, my grandson,” Connor replied, as he pointed to himself. “Raine Industries is his birthright. Aiden should be here, protecting his son’s legacy, not overseeing charities or playing instruments. I don’t want that kind of life for my son or my grandson.”

  I threw my hands up, exasperated by the lunacy. “And here we go. You can’t control people like that.”

  “You say control, but I like to think of it as guidance.”

  “With you, it’s one in the same, Connor, and Aiden doesn’t need that.”

  “Do you think Aiden would be the man he is today without my guidance? When you look at Aiden, who do you see? Do you see some struggling piano player who’s trying to find his way? No. You see the strong, powerful, and very wealthy man who captured your heart.”

  “He can be whoever he wants to be. Aiden is his own man.”

  “A man I shaped and molded, so don’t fool yourself…if you think for one instant that a great deal of Connor Raine isn’t in your Aiden, you’re mistaken.”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “I’m not saying anything you don’t already know. You’ve seen Aiden when things don’t go the way he wants, or the way he thinks they should.”

  “Just as I’ve seen you when things don’t go the way you want,” I shot back.

  “And as I have…Aiden’s done some things that weren’t always aboveboard for what he saw as the greater good. He’s just like me.”

  I shook my head at his comparison. “That’s where you’re wrong. Aiden’s not just like you.”

  “Sure he is. Has he even once said that what he’s doing is for the sake of his son? That he’s protecting his son?”

  I glared at Connor, refusing to dignify his question with a response. How dare he sit there all high and mighty passing judgment, and rendering decisions as if he were some omnipotent being.

  “If he hasn’t yet, give him time—he will.” Connor leaned forward, his fingers interlaced and his elbows on his desk. “And you may not think so, but that’s exactly what I was doing the night we’d discovered Lyric had been taken from us—I made a decision to protect my son and my grandson. It was best handled privately—not in the public eye like some type of media circus.”

  I wasn’t falling for this bull. He wasn’t protecting Lyric, he was protecting his image, his company…once again proving that R.I. was the most important thing to him. “You can spin this however you want. I really don’t care. My only concern is for Aiden and his happiness, which you seem determined to destroy. What kind of a father does that?”

  Connor was quiet. He appeared contemplative, not of my words, of course, but on his next attempt to defend his contemptible tactics.

  “Aria, whether you know it or not, you’re changing the dynamic of this entire family. I didn’t quite know what to make of it initially. And then you gave me a grandson, and I was overjoyed and full of hope for the future, hopeful that at least my grandson could look at me and appreciate what his father couldn’t.”

  “I wouldn’t say Aiden feels that way.”

  “Aiden feels I’ve taken from him, and he resents me for it. While my methods may not have been the best, I did what was necessary—to make him strong, to make him the person he is today. And yes, he’s very much indeed his own man.”

  “As long as he doesn’t test the limits of his manhood with you?”

  He chuckled. “Aiden’s knocked me on my ass quite a few times, more than even he realizes.”

  Connor cocked his head and sat back in the large leather chair, and as if he’d made a decision, he said, “Aria, I want to entrust you with some information. Something that stays between you and me.”

  “Your son and I don’t have secrets.”

  “See, that’s where you’re wrong. Everyone has secrets, Aria. Even your precious Aiden.”

  I was very much aware Aiden was keeping things from me, but since Connor didn’t know I knew, I was intrigued as to where this may lead. I took the seat to which he’d gestured earlier, and let him continue.

  “Everyone is so quick to persecute Connor Raine, to criticize me for protecting my family and my business, but no one is giving away any of the privileges that my way has provided for them. I’m surrounded by contempt and blame by my ungrateful children…and now you. So quick to sum me up in a few short phrases, without knowing who I really am or why I’m the person sitting before you. I’d like to tell you a story if I may.”

  I nodded. “Please.” I’d listen, but if he thought any story could suddenly make me join Team Connor, he was wasting both his time and mine.

  “My father, or the man who I thought was my father, was a miserable son of a bitch. I was the second of four children. I needed a bone marrow transplant when I was younger, and after a series of tests, it turned out that my father wasn’t a match, which is how it was discovered he could in no way be my father. My mother was then forced to admit she’d had an affair—that I was the product of infidelity. After that, nothing was the same. From that moment on, Charles—that was his name—was a complete piece of shit to me. He was harder on me than he was any of the other children. We all knew it, but no one dared mention it. He punished me very severely for even the slightest of shortcomings. My mother knew about it, but she did nothing. She behaved as if it didn’t exist.”

  “He beat you?” I asked, horrified by his revelation.

  “No, he never did, but I often thought I’d be better off if he had. His punishments were more psychological in nature. His way of rearing me, the way he spoke to me…it was as if I were nothing. He’d ground me for weeks on end for things that didn’t warrant a second look. He forced me to do excessive chores or banished me to my room…only allowing me to come out for the basic necessities. I’d be in the house looking out the window as the rest of the family played in the backyard, or I’d be home eating a microwave dinner as they all went out for a meal. He wouldn’t even allow me go to church with the family. He said God wouldn’t want such a sinful person in His house. Charles’ goal was to break my spirit, and I let him think he had.”

  Connor pushed away from his desk and stepped toward the large windows along the side of his office. He looked at the Chicago skyline as he continued his story. “He often called me weak and said I would never measure up to anything—that I was a loser. He called me loser so many times that I started to think it was my name. His insults, while hurtful, were my driving force. I wanted to prove him wrong. And I tested every limit I had. I pushed myself with everything in me to be the person he swore I never could.”

  Connor paused. He appeared lost in memories that had transported him to another time and place…a place far away from Raine Industries.

  “And one day, I was,” Connor finally said. He turned away from the window and slid his hands in his pockets. “I was strong. I was resilient and I was powerful. I wanted to instill those traits in my own son. I wanted to give him what I didn’t always have…I wanted him to have the power and drive to crush his enemies. You see, I slept only a few feet from my greatest adversary, and I had no power to challe
nge him at all. In that aspect, I was weak. But not Aiden, he can beat me at my own game, sometimes on my best day. I do have the occasional win. So, there is that,” he added with a reflective smile. “But that’s what I wanted for him. That’s what I gave him. He has it all. He will never let anyone best him, never will he be viewed as weak, and never will anyone dare attempt to break his spirit the way my father tried to break mine.”

  I was speechless. When Connor said he wanted to tell me a story, I had no idea it would be one so personal or so horrific.

  “My father—I don’t know why I still refer to him as such. He worked in a factory and had an accident there that nearly killed him. He was rushed to the hospital for emergency surgery. Something went wrong and he suffered severe brain damage. I remember him being in the hospital and my praying that he would die. But the worthless bastard survived. From then on, my mother had to take care of him. She waited on him hand and foot until it became too much for her. He was eventually moved to a convalescent center, and that’s where he died. I didn’t even go to the funeral.”

  I studied Connor…waiting on even the slightest of breaks in his decorum, but there wasn’t one. Even in the midst of such a personal conversation, he seemed guarded. His posture was rigid and his expression was blank. His jaws were set in a firm line and his eyes were hard. As I watched him, I couldn’t help but notice his dark brown curls had grayed a little more over the last year or so, which had somehow enhanced his handsome features.

  He stepped back to his desk and resumed his seat. “While my child-rearing methods may have been less than ideal, my son is not lacking anything that I was as a child. He’s intelligent, he’s relentless, and he’s cunning—he’s damn near brilliant. He has strength and he has respect—some may even say he’s feared. No one will ever talk down to him or make him feel less than the dominant man he is. And he has the power to crush any and every one with the inclination to cross him…even his own father.”