Life would have been just fine without all of that.
It might have made her stronger, but…
Marc’s voice filled the house.
Deep. Strong. That raw, whiskey-soaked velvet. Wrapping around her, intoxicating her.
And she found herself being pulled back to the past night.
I want to make it to where you can never build another fucking wall, where you can never think of another man when we’re together…
Why was she even wasting her time thinking about somebody who had hurt her so miserably bad?
Somebody who had thrown her out of his life when she’d needed help the most?
“Because I’m an idiot,” she said sourly. “And I need to stop it.”
Shoving it out of her head, she focused on the screen and even managed to tune Marc’s voice out until it was just background noise. Mostly. Background noise that managed to send shivers up and down her spine.
She had a lot of work to get done and only so much time to do it. Twenty minutes back into work, she had to hit the Internet. She was thinking that what she wanted to do with Marc’s website was just start from scratch and she had an idea for what she wanted, but she had yet to find exactly what she was looking for.
A hunt on the website she usually used was a waste of time. Yet again.
Closing her eyes, she rubbed her hands over her face, let herself pull up the idea she had in mind. Something different. The idiot who had screwed up her site design hadn’t exactly had the wrong sort of idea, just bad execution, tacking it onto a design that wasn’t right for it.
She could incorporate that sort of feel into the new design and already had an idea, but what kind of…
It hit her.
She went to her email and sketched out what she wanted to do, sent it to Marc. She didn’t know who was handling this end now since he’d hired her himself, but she figured he’d handle forwarding it on. He’d have to run it by the rest of the guys in the group, or whoever was going to be the go-between, but at least she had started.
Now to get to work building it.
She could always buy the basic design, but if she wanted his site to be completely unique—and she did—she’d be better off doing it on her own.
Whether or not he was going to like the ideas she’d proposed, she didn’t know, but that wouldn’t change what she had to get done first. All the coding was going to be a pain in the ass and—
His reply was already in her inbox.
Come to the studio.
Arching a brow, she emailed him back. Why?
Barely a minute passed before she had his answer. I want to see you. In parentheses, it read, And after that, I want to strip you naked and fuck you.
Okay…that made something warm and delicious settle in her belly. But still. She needed to get a little bit of work done on this. And she knew she wouldn’t get anything done if she didn’t do it before she went in there to see Marc. I’m working right now. I need to spend some time on this website design and I have to take care of a few others things too.
Marc scowled at the message that came up on his iPhone.
He started to tap back a response and then stopped. “Screw this.”
Standing, he headed out of the studio, prowling through the house until he found her.
He wasn’t surprised when to see her tucked away in the library. The room faced out over the water, but she had the blinds down and the curtains drawn. Her long, lean legs were tucked up with the laptop on her knees. She was sitting in one of the armchairs, keeping the mouse on the nearby table, and the look on her face told him she wasn’t even aware of him. Brows down low over her eyes, a frown twisting her lips.
Leaning against the door, he crossed his arms over his chest and watched her.
Her hair, that dark brown hair with its threads of gold and red, kept falling into her eyes. That was when she noticed him, after she shoved her hair back and it fell right into her eyes two seconds later. She went to reach into her bag and she glanced up, a scarf in one hand.
Their gazes locked and Marc found himself thinking about how he’d woken up. Alone. She’d left a note on the bedside table. Went running. Back in a while.
So he’d gone into his studio, hoping she’d find him when she got back. Chaili had done long-distance running for years and it wasn’t unusual for her to spend hours on a run, but he hadn’t thought she’d go running and then hide herself away and work.
As she wrapped the scarf around her head, using it to tie her hair back, he shoved off the wall. “How come you’re hiding away in here?” he asked.
“I’m not hiding away.” She flipped the top of the computer around, showing him the screen. She tapped on it. “I’m working.”
Marc stared at something that looked like a foreign language. One involving a lot of weird symbols and abbreviations. There were words in English and he was pretty certain it was supposed to make sense…but it didn’t. He cocked his head to the left, then to the right, but that didn’t help any. “If the job is trying to make sense out of that, you’ve got a lot of work left to do,” he said. “It’s Sunday… You do still take time off, right?”
With a slight grin, she flipped the screen back around. “That’s code. For the website I’m building for you. You remember, the job you hired me to do? And I take time off when projects allow. Since I’m tight on time here, I’m going to have to take time off when I can manage it. I need to put in a few hours today, plus I still have to finish that rush job. I already committed to it.”
He dropped onto the ottoman in front of her and reached out, laid a hand on one ankle.
She shivered, lashes drooping low over her eyes.
“You’ve already been working for a while, it looks like. How long ago did you get back from your run? You’ve already showered and everything.”
“Ummm.” Her gaze darted down. “Yeah…been back for a while. You were still sleeping so I showered in a different bathroom. Didn’t want to wake you. Been working about an hour or so. I need to do a few more hours here or I’m not going to keep to the schedule I’ve set for myself.”
“How much can you get done?” He tightened his grip on her ankle. “I mean, we need to talk to the guys, right? Do the photos and shit.”
A soft breath hissed out of her as he dipped down and pressed his lips to her knee. “I can do plenty on the basic stuff. The…ah…coding.”
Her fingers pushed into his hair, tightened. “Marc…?”
Tracing his tongue along her skin, he murmured, “Hmmm?”
“Are you serious about me doing your website or did you just decide to throw some work my way?”
Tensing, he sat up.
Her eyes glinted.
“What?”
“You heard me. Do you want this site done or not?”
“I need a new site, damn it. You’ve seen how shitty it looks, right?”
“Oh, yes. I’ve seen. But if you’re serious, then you need to let me work when I say I’m working.” She glanced down to where he was holding on to her ankle. “Would you be totally cool with it if I walked into the recording studio when you and the guys were working on a new album and just starting stripping out of my clothes?”
Slowly, he uncurled his fingers from her ankle. “I’m just…”
“Marc, I know what you’re just…doing.” Chaili kept her gaze focused on the computer. “And if I didn’t need to have this done for you in a seriously short period of time, then we could just for as long as you want.”
“If it’s going to be too hard to get the website done by the deadline, we can put it off a few days,” he said, blowing out a breath. Shoving upright, he started to pace.
“No. I said I could get it done. And the bonus happens only if I get it done by that time, remember?” She looked up long enough to flash him a quick smile. “I plan on getting it done.”
“Yeah. I see that.” Hooking a hand over the back of his neck, he glanced over at the clock. “How long are you goi
ng to work?”
“I’ll need a break in a couple of hours. If I get enough done, I may stop for the day,” she said.
“Okay. So…lunch?”
She smiled at him. “It’s a date.”
Chapter Fourteen
“I want to take you out tonight.”
With the phone propped on her ear, Chaili continued to work on the pictures. So far, she’d finished up the pictures for Miguel, Seth and Mac. Jacob and Marc were all that was left. Jacob had been out of town and she’d get his done once he was back. She was nervous about working on Marc’s, but that wasn’t anything she could explain to him.
“Okay. Take me out where?” she asked.
“Blue’s.”
Chaili almost dropped the phone.
“Ah…” She licked her lips. She wasn’t so certain she wanted to do that.
“Yes?”
“I don’t have anything to wear.” That wasn’t a lie. Blue ran a classy joint and appearances were important. Chaili wasn’t about to go in there without the right kind of armor. Clothing was armor in certain areas of life. Walking into the place where her ex had tried to humiliate her a couple of times…yeah. Armor was necessary.
“Maybe you could let me buy you something.”
Chaili turned away from the computer after taking a few seconds to save her work. She rose from the computer and paced the floor of her living room, staring at nothing, seeing Marc’s face in her mind.
For the past two weeks, they’d seen each other almost every day and it felt like she was getting so deep in over her head…but she wasn’t scared, because he seemed to be right there with her.
This, though…this was a hard thing he was asking.
“I’m not a member there anymore,” she said quietly. “I can’t afford the dues and I don’t really want to be a member anymore.”
“I am. You know how the place works, right? I’m at the select level. I can take guests, and I want you to be my guest.” He paused and then added, “My date, Chaili. I’m taking you as my date…my woman, not my slave, not my submissive. I want to take you out to dinner, for drinks. I want to dance with you someplace where I don’t have to worry about cameras or anything.”
Swallowing, she moved over to the couch, thinking that through. “Is that all we’re doing? Dinner. Drinks. Dancing?”
“I already told you I’ve got lines I won’t cross…certain areas at Blue’s, I haven’t gone, and I won’t go there.” He blew out a breath and then added, “But if you want, I can see if she’s got one of your rooms open.”
“My…” It clicked and then she sighed. “No. I don’t need that, Marc.” Hell, it didn’t seem necessary. Marc took her places with just his voice, just his hands. That extra kick in the kink factor wasn’t needed anymore. “So this is basically just a date. Dinner. Drinks. Dancing. But you want the privacy thing, right?”
“Pretty much.”
Nibbling on her lip, she thought it through. “Okay. But you’re not buying me anything to wear. I’ll go shopping.” And she could actually do that too. Ilona had sent her an advance and she only felt a little bit guilty keeping some of the money. It was a hell of a lot of money, more than she’d expected to see in the next six months. Wasn’t wrong to spend a little bit of it on clothes.
“I want to buy you something.”
“No.” She didn’t feel right with it. Hedging away from the insistent command she heard in his voice, she offered the most practical reason imaginable. “I’m not that easy to find clothes for these days. The mastectomy made certain of that.”
“That didn’t go well,” he muttered.
He hadn’t wanted her spending her money on clothes for a date, Marc thought.
Standing in the middle of the store, looking around, he eyed the mannequins and tried to picture one of the dresses on Chaili. Shit. He’d planned on just getting her sizes, but…
Okay.
That plan was out. But he was buying her something.
A long, slender woman clad all in black approached him. She had a polite, professional mask in place and looked almost as lifeless as one of the mannequins. But he figured she’d be a good person to ask.
“Is there anything I can help you with?”
Once he’d made his purchase, he shouldered through the doors and started down Michigan Avenue. He needed to put in a call to Blue. She had private dining booths and he wanted one. He wanted to make sure nothing would go wrong tonight.
A real date.
He hadn’t taken Chaili on a real date yet.
Well, they’d managed to grab a very late movie the other day. That had been fun.
The movie had sucked and they’d ended up making out for most of it. Which had been the best part, if you asked him.
Maybe they could try—
“Hello, Marc.”
The sound of that voice managed to poke a needle in the nice, happy little bubble he’d wrapped around himself. Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, he found himself looking at a face he barely recognized.
Three years ago, Lily had been on the border of too skinny. Beautiful, but almost painfully skinny. White-blonde hair that was almost always impeccably coifed, big blue eyes with perfect makeup, set against porcelain skin. She’d looked like a doll, he realized. Yeah, she’d been beautiful, but like a doll. A very breakable one. He just hadn’t realized it.
Now, with her hair cut in a short, sleek style, it’s color a warmer gold, her face free of makeup and her curves almost generous, she looked…well. Rather lovely. More beautiful, he decided. And steady. Steadier than he’d ever seen her.
“Hello, Lily.”
She glanced around and then nodded to the coffee shop to the right. “Do you have a minute? I saw you coming out of Neiman Marcus and wanted to speak with you.”
Sighing, he glanced around. “Lily…”
“Please. It won’t take long.”
“You look well,” he said. They sat tucked in the back of the coffee shop, his back to the crowd. Lily drank some sort of frothy concoction that had more sugar than caffeine. He drank coffee, black, and wished he’d thought to get an extra shot of espresso.
“Hmm. Well, sometimes I’m still not so crazy about who I see in the mirror, but I’m trying. Thanks for giving me a few minutes. I really need to do this, you know.”
“Do what?” he asked warily. He couldn’t help it. This woman had come so close to fucking up his life. So close.
“Apologize.” She stared at him levelly. “I…well, you know I’d been using. I was good at hiding it. But after that night…” She shrugged. “You can’t hide it very well after you’re in the hospital for an overdose, right?”
“Are you clean now?”
“Yes.” She gave him a small smile…a proud one. “Two years now. There were some slips and slides that first year, but two years clean. It’s the longest I’ve ever gone and I’m going to make it stick this time.”
“Good.”
She nodded. “Well, then. About that apology…”
“You’ve already apologized,” he said tersely.
“It’s not the same,” she said, shaking her head. “Over the phone. In a letter. I went there with the intent to try and ruin you if you wouldn’t do what I wanted, even though I was the one who screwed up. With everything…” She stopped, looking away. “I screwed up with everything. But you were one of my worst mistakes. I was so wrong to do that to you and I’m sorry.”
Marc stared down at his coffee. How the hell did he respond to this? It’s okay? Well, that wasn’t exactly right. Don’t worry about it…? That didn’t seem right, either. Blowing out a breath, he thought through the possible answers, turning each of them over. An apology was offered…usually somebody offered it because they wanted forgiveness. And yeah, he could do that.
Okay, then.
“I forgive you,” he said, still staring at his coffee. He shot another look at her and then focused back on his coffee. “That doesn’t mean I’m looking to reestabli
sh any sort of relationship here, Lily. I think you and I were bad for each other. But I forgive you.”
“Thank you.” Her words were a soft, watery whisper.
A moment later, her chair scraped back against the floor. She paused by his side, her hand resting on his arm. He held rigid as she dipped her head, pressed her lips to his temple. When she left a few seconds later, he blew out a breath. Then, lifting his coffee to his lips, he pondered the chair where she’d been sitting.
Well, that was one little chapter of his life he figured he could consider closed.
Not that it had much mattered to him. He was ready to focus all of his attention on Chaili, this woman who had suddenly become his everything.
The black dress had been a miracle of a find. It was halter-style, but with a loose, draping effect that looked pretty decent. The skirt hit a few inches above the knee and when she spun around, it flared out nicely. She debated on wearing any stockings and decided, what the hell. Marc had liked them. She didn’t bother with the garter belt, though. Black panties. Nude stockings with the lacy, stay-up tops. A pair of her good black heels that she hadn’t been able to part with it… The soles were screaming hot pink and just sliding them on made her smile.
She was standing in front of the mirror, finishing up her makeup, when he knocked.
After one last glance, she headed toward the door, smiling at the way her heels clicked on the floor. A date. Her belly fluttered a little. She was going on a date with Marc. To Blue’s. Yeah, it was just dinner and dancing, but still.
The very atmosphere of Blue’s was like a hedonistic delight, one she’d never been able to enjoy the way she would have liked, thanks to…
“No,” she whispered as she stopped in front of the door. “Not anymore.”
All she had to do was refuse to open the door. She wasn’t opening the door…in her head.
Marc knocked again. She was damn well opening the door for him. And with a smile, she did so.
Beautiful Scars Page 17
