by Pamela Ann
Even in my pursuit of passions, that, too, had a limit.
“There’s a delivery for Miss Isobel Callas. Should I give it to Benoît?” my secretary popped her head in the office, asking me a question that merely ignited my suspicions.
“Non. Bring it to me,” I responded before my jaw locked, before grinding my teeth together as I told myself to hold it together when the only thing I wanted to do was throw something at the wall.
Delivery for Isobel from whom? From her father? I hardly thought the bastard would have the guts to do such a thing. Could it have been from her friends in London? If so, why the hell didn’t she tell them the address to the villa instead of the hotel? There was something that didn’t match up. The moment that the delivery arrived in my office, I wondered no longer.
It was a large flower arrangement. A massive, grandiose display of pink, red, white, and green blooms was set on the coffee table. I stared at it as if I was gauging an opponent before I carried on with a plan of attack.
The hickey and now this? Even a daft man could figure out what this all meant.
I grunted out a cruel laugh before I bolted out of my seat, scowling at the white envelope that had her name all over it.
Staring at the card, it took me a second to decide whether to read it or not. My possessive streak, added with my piqued curiosity, jumbled with the hurt and betrayal that Isobel struck me with. There wasn’t even a moment’s hesitation before I yanked the card off the vase and opened that damning thing.
To my Isobel,
Spending most of our time in bed, making love and talking about the future, made me realize that what we share is something special—and it’s worth fighting for. So this is me, fighting for what we have. What we’ve always had.
Your heart never lies. Not when it was beating against my own, not when you kissed me, or when you made love to me. I felt your love, Iso. Don’t be afraid, I’m not going anywhere.
I miss you, and I’ll wait for however long it takes until you’re back in my arms again.
Happy 4th year anniversary, my love.
Damen
No wonder she didn’t want anything to do with me when she got back. Though she’d moaned for a bit under my arms, there was no mistaking that she hadn’t fully been enjoying any of it.
Because she’d slept with him. For how long? My mind rankled. The entire duration of her stay in Athens? Most probably.
First came the rage, the heated curl of jealousy that seemed to have settled in my chest, before sadness weighed above it all.
There was a part of me which had kept on hoping—holding out a torch that there was something there, something more underneath the surface—but I had been wrong. Very wrong.
I had been too self-assured—too arrogant—to think that she’d change her mind when it came to me. That she’d follow the rest of the women who couldn’t stop wanting and chasing me. That, if I just made enough effort, she’d see how I was willing to try and accommodate her needs to make her happy. But I had been a fool.
She made me into a fool.
Just when I’d thought things were going somewhere, life had sent a reality check.
Last night, I should’ve confronted her with the hickey; however, I had been in denial, thinking it wasn’t that big of a deal. But it fucking was!
I should be grateful that I had caught it early on so I didn’t have to be a much bigger fool than I already was.
For the first time, I had no clue of where to take it from here.
Eighty-Eight
Isobel
Languidly sitting on my dresser chair while I did my nightly beauty routine, I didn’t notice Hugo leaning against the wall, staring back at me in the mirror until he cleared his throat to get my attention.
“Hey, have you been here long?” I asked nervously, caught off guard by his odd behavior and the mercurial look he had. Was he that ticked off about last night? Most likely. The guy did hate the word no. Therefore, my reluctance at receiving him last night for his usual nightly festivities possibly hadn’t pleased His Highness at all.
He didn’t move from his spot, though his eyes shifted to whatever I was doing, applying creams one after the other before I did a quick application of lip balm.
“Not that long, I believe…” he trailed off and didn’t say anything else until I brought my eyes towards his reflection once more. “There was a delivery for you.”
“Oh.” What delivery? Frowning, I told myself to breathe in calmness before speaking again. “Who’s it from?” My tone didn’t betray how much of a nervous wreck I was inside.
“There was no sender, so I was assuming you’d know who.” His eyes didn’t leave mine as they burned holes through me. “The item is in your bedroom, in case you were wondering.”
“Oh,” I meekly said as I gradually stood up with shaky legs as I pondered and feared who the delivery had come from.
Praying it wasn’t from Damen, I emerged from the vast walk-in closet heading towards the bedroom. The second I saw the elaborate flowers in the vase, sitting on the coffee table, I didn’t have to wonder for too long. Alas, my fears were answered. One look at it confirmed who it was from. It was the very same present I got each year.
My heart constricted at the thought of Damen truly thinking I was working at The Riviera. The lies I had weaved to keep him in the dark might haunt me, but I had to do what was best for his faith and love for me to always remain intact. Damen was a great guy, and I loved him and longed for the future he had mapped out for the both of us.
Striding over towards the blooms, my forefinger touched the soft, silky petal before I bent over and smelled their powerful, saccharine sweet scent, overwhelmed by the emotions that rolled off me. Today was supposed to be our fourth anniversary, and even though I had pushed off all his attempts in sending me anything, he still had gone ahead with his yearly flower delivery. He was a thoughtful, wonderful man, and I was lucky that he’d decided to wait for me until I was back in England.
“Did you happen to read the note?” I distractedly asked Hugo, knowing he wasn’t far behind, watching me closely as I plucked the card off and stared at my name written in black, bold letters.
“No,” he rasped out. “I didn’t.”
Thank goodness. I silently uttered a prayer of thanks, knowing very well that Hugo’s personality—the possessive jealous kind—wouldn’t abide well with this had he read it. Damen always poured his heart in these cards, and I would hate for Hugo to invade my privacy as well as I would truly abhor the fact that he could use it against me and my father to sever the contract. That could’ve been a massive maelstrom atop of all the problems I had.
Breathing out a loud sighing release, I quickly turned my head to see where Hugo was. Just as I had guessed, he was a few feet away, scrutinizing everything I did.
Beaming widely at him, I gave him thanks for bothering to bring it here. “It’s from my friends. They just miss me, that’s all.”
He nonchalantly nodded before trying to smile back at me. “Thoughtful friends are always nice to have. You’re a lucky girl. You seem to surround yourself with people who adore you very much.”
“Thank you. Yeah, I guess I’m lucky if you put it that way.” Slowly striding towards him until I gazed upon his dark, beautiful face, I tiptoed to kiss him softly on the lips. “Working late again tonight?”
“Something like that.”
His unwelcoming attitude alerted me to make some much needed effort to please him. “Did you eat?” I questioned, but I thought better, knowing how he usually nibbled on something whilst working. “How about a nightcap? It’s quite balmy outside. The fresh air might help you relieve some tension. You work too much.”
“Aunt Julee moved into the penthouse suite in the hotel so she could function and work better from there, but her hourly daily visits are driving me mad. It seems to me that I don’t have any patience for such trivial interest in gossip and her grinding remarks about her soon-to-be ex-husband’s betrayal.
”
Damn, I hadn’t thought of her since I had come back. I had been caught up texting and emailing back and forth with Damen and the addition of video chat surely didn’t help with my concentration. Julee had a lot of people to help her with the event, so maybe I wasn’t needed there. Besides, the woman had loathed me on the spot. It was difficult to be around her and breathe in her negativity without feeling less than optimistic myself.
“I had truly forgotten about your aunt and Elena. So if Julee is staying at the hotel, where’s your cousin?”
“She met a guy, and they decided to sail about Italy. They claim to be in love, or so she says. Nevertheless, this is typical Elena behavior.” He shrugged, as if it wasn’t so boggling to have his cousin depart mid-summer season.
Free-spirited and did as she pleased, I admired that about her. But at the same time, I envied that, too, because I couldn’t freely express myself without repercussions. Julee might be a total bitch, but it was apparent that she loved her daughter. My mother, on the other hand, was too busy pining for her husband to even notice that she had children of her own to take care of. And as for my father, well, there wasn’t much to say about him other than less colorful attributes that he ceaselessly reminded us of whenever he could.
“So are you up for a nightcap with me, or are you too exhausted to do any of that?” I looked at him expectantly, hoping that he’d say yes so I could at least make up for my less than spectacular attitude last night.
“Of course…” he sighed before finally giving my forehead a whisper-soft kiss on it. “I’ll meet you downstairs. Don’t make me wait long. I’ve thought of you all day.”
His blatant honesty melted my very guilty heart. As much as I wanted to tell him the truth, I knew I couldn’t for fear of unleashing something that would be out of my control and would only summon my father back in life. No, I just couldn’t.
“See you in a bit.” I waved him off before almost running towards the walk-in closet. With Damen’s letter in hand, I stashed it in one of my drawers so I could read it when I had privacy. Then I slid off my robe and chose a simple, cotton dress that wasn’t too simple yet showed enough skin to entice Hugo’s eyes.
Smelling like fresh citrus blooms and face free of any artifice, I strolled out of my room and went to go find him out on the veranda with a few candles lighting up the small, intimate garden settee. Different types of cheeses, a few selections of grapes, castelvetrano olives, and dried fruits were lavishly spread out on a platter. Vintage champagne chilled in the ice bucket, bottles of red wine, and other, harder and much pricier liquor lined about. The cozy ambiance, the sound of the soft waves hitting the shore, the faint noise of cicadas in the background, and the stoic man with his back to me as he stared at the sea before him, surely made these intimate surroundings… so much more.
“Hey,” I called out to him, hoping he’d change back to the sweet, seductive man from last night. At the same time, I knew wishing for it would be a bad idea as well. My situation was beyond sticky and complicated. It wasn’t just me or Damen that would be affected if things went awry. I had Yannis and my mother to think about; subsequently, I best keep my thoughts and priorities aligned, or else my father’s wrath, the next it lashes out, would truly be unforgiving.
Compromise.
The word seemed to have overused itself when it came to me. However, it was the only thing that would make sense out of everything I had done as of late.
My eyes wandered about the alcoholic bottles as I contemplated what to drink first. I noticed Hugo had moved from his stance and was making his way towards me.
“I hope you don’t mind my dress.” I slightly blushed when I realized how informal I looked, not like what he was used to, and opposed to his dapper self. Then again, whatever he wore, he never failed to appear as though the clothes were meant for his body. His easy confidence and magnetic appeal were a persistent lure to any woman’s appreciative glances.
His eyes… Though I wasn’t staring at them, I felt their intensity as they scrutinized my simple outfit, which truly didn’t help with my embarrassment. “The dress?” his eyebrow rose, slightly inquiring. “It’s lovely, but if you’re unhappy with it, you’re more than welcome to take it off and slowly strip before me.”
“Like that last time, you mean?” I added, a little breathless as I recalled the night where he watched me strip naked before he intimately touched me in places.
For heaven’s sake, Isobel, get it together! I reprimanded myself when the familiar stirrings of Hugo’s magic started to work on me. The second I realized what I had just done, Damen’s loving face appeared before my very eyes, making me snap out of my trance.
“You were scared of me then, were you not?” His question threw me off a little.
Was it obvious that I hadn’t wanted to go through with it that night? Maybe so. Maybe that was why he had changed his mind with me, too, and thrown that two-week challenge, which seemed to have been unsuccessful.
“I was…”
The memory seemed so long ago.
“Champagne?” He gestured towards the iced bottle before giving me a pointed look. “Or red? White? Cognac?”
“Champagne is fine. Thanks.”
As I watched him through my lashes, he carefully poured me a drink in a crystal flute before handing it to me. After pouring his own, he then faced me, drink in hand, before he slowly lifted his. “So, what should we toast for tonight? Best wishes? Anything congratulatory perhaps?”
“Not on my part.”
“Not on mine, either,” he mused. “So what should we toast to?”
A universal question that wasn’t so hard to respond to. “Here’s to good health and good luck?”
“I suppose that could work,” he murmured before raising his glass, wishing me well as I did the same.
I couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but something was off. Maybe it was the way he was looking at me tonight that got me edgy, or the way he simply looked too good to be real. I couldn’t seem to stray my eyes away from him. Had he always been this gorgeous? I wondered in frustration.
He cleared his throat before addressing me again. “Fancy a quick dip in the sea?”
I laughed at his question since the last time had almost gotten me killed from extreme fright. “I think I’m fine for now, though I do promise to let you know if I’m up for it later.”
His eyes twinkled, as if he, too, was remembering my major humiliation. “How about dancing? Fancy doing that with me?”
Dancing sounded brilliant compared to being mauled and surrounded by sea mammals or predators lurking about. “Dancing sounds perfect.”
He nodded before producing a remote out of nowhere. Then he pressed a button and a soft, mellow music filtered through the background.
Downing the rest of my drink, I let out a small groan before I made my way towards him. Really, there was something gravitating about him, the pull was much more powerful than the last time. I wished I could easily ask him what it was, but I thought better of it.
Placing his empty glass on the nearest flat surface, he gently pulled me into his arms, placing one hand on the side of my hips. The music had a throaty, male voice singing in the background, adding a touch of melancholy and romance in the air.
“What’s the name of this song?” Lifting my chin to meet his gaze, I was instantly overwhelmed by this sudden need to kiss him.
“La Vie en Rose,” he rasped out, making me stare directly at his lips, which were looking much more enticing as the seconds ticked away.
“I like it…” I trailed off, still unglued from the sight of his lips.
“Ma belle,” he groaned out in such a way that made me yearn for things I shouldn’t be even thinking. “Did you think of me at all?”
Yes and no, depending on the circumstances. “Sometimes, when I wasn’t preoccupied with personal things,” I lied lightly, hoping that my answer would suffice his curiosity.
“I’m sure you were busy with your moth
er,” he thoughtfully added before I gave a small nod, a little ashamed of my lies.
“Yeah, it was a bit chaotic. Thanks for understanding.”
Hugo released a sigh before chastely kissing my forehead. “I do understand. I really do.”
For the rest of the night, we barely spoke, simply dancing the night away. He didn’t release me until it was time for us to head back inside the house. Just as expected, he came to sleep in my bedroom. And just as I’d predicted, he tried to get me naked as well, but this time, my reluctance in doing any intimacy with him was quite obvious compared to last night.
“Hugo, I’m sorry, but I can’t,” I rushed out, feeling mighty frustrated that I was turned on and wanted him to go through with it. Yet I just fucking couldn’t do it. “It’s that time of the month.” Another lie sprung out of nowhere, which was more viable if I thought hard about it. “I hope you don’t mind.” I couldn’t even look him in the eye because I knew, without a doubt, that it hurt him.
“I see,” was all he said before turning off the light.
Instead of acting like a complete jackass, I was surprised when I felt him hold me, barely whispering “dream sweet” into my ear before I fell asleep, dreaming about him.
Eighty-Nine
Isobel
The ingenious idea of being on my period gave me a short-term hiatus from Hugo’s sexual persistence. For about a week, he would come home and sleep with me, holding me close without even trying to do anything, not even kissing.
At first, the relief for having his understanding and withdrawal was a blessing. However, as the days went by without him trying anything, it got me a tad worried. Even engaging him in conversations about how his day went or pointless and useless subjects that usually were a laugh between us back in the day didn’t seem to rouse any spark from him. Hugo became detached, yet he didn’t push me away in bed and still sought my warmth, holding me close every night without fail.
