by Bishop, Ally
“I’m sorry to hear that it came at the expense of her marriage.”
He shrugs. “Well, for most people, it would be a sad story. But they’re pretty amicable. I think they just grew apart. They never had kids, so they could have just gone their separate ways. But we all hang out as a family on the holidays.”
“That’s amazing. I admire that.” I glance over at Rheanna, who’s talking animatedly to another table. “You’re lucky to have such a close family.”
He takes my hand, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. “I am. And I have to remember not to take that for granted.”
The topic hits home hard, and my stomach roils. I need some space, so I excuse myself to use the restroom. It’s a luxurious suite with a small rest area off the side. As I wash my hands, I stare at myself in the mirror. My dark hair has come loose from its ponytail, hanging down in messy ringlets around my face. My cheeks are still pink from the wind, my lips bright red, and to the world, I might look like a woman away for a romantic weekend. But inside, I feel like I’m playing a part—and while Noah loves doing that, I hate it.
I want to be okay with this—dashing away for a weekend with a new lover, hiding away in this coastal town—but it’s the antithesis of who I am, and I feel like a fake.
I don’t know how long I’ve been here, staring at myself with warm water running over my hands, when someone comes in.
Rheanna appears at my elbow. “Ian sent me to check on you. Is everything okay?”
Embarrassed, I shut off the water. “Sorry — I wasn’t feeling all that well. Then I sat down on the chair, and I must have dozed off.” When did I become such an easy liar?
Worry creases her brow. “You two did have a long day. He was just telling me about it. Can I get you anything?” She lays a hand against my forehead. “You feel a little warm.”
I haven’t been mothered in a long time, and while I don’t know this woman, it feels…good. “I’ll be fine.” I aim for a smile, though I’m not sure I make it. “I might have overdone it today.”
“Let me get some tea for you, and I’ll send over some of Bets’s home-made crackers and soup. Fix you right up.”
Her concern warms me, and I manage a grin. “Thanks. That sounds perfect.”
We’re not quite in the dining room when she touches my shoulder. “Seeing you with my nephew does my heart good. He’s had a rough year or so. The way he looks at you…well, I know the look of a smitten man.”
I fight to keep my expression neutral, though my brain is reeling with her words. Smitten? A rough year? She pats my arm and heads off to the kitchen. If I’d driven myself here, I might make a run for the car, but instead, I return to the table, where Ian looks relieved to see me.
“I was getting worried. You looked a bit pale earlier.”
“Just felt a bit light-headed.” And still do. But I paste a small smile on my face and toy with my spoon.
I can feel Ian’s gaze on me, even though I can’t quite look at him.
“Ella, what’s wrong?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. I’m fine. Really.”
“No, you’re not. It’s written all over your face.” When I refuse to meet his gaze, he heaves a sigh. “Let’s get out of here.”
He signals one of the wait staff and requests our food be sent to our room. Then we leave, the warmth of his fingers on my back a light propulsion. All I keep hearing in my head are his aunt’s words. I know the look of a smitten man… What does that mean? It’s been four days. That’s hardly enough time to be “smitten.” Or is it?
The waiter follows us to our suite, deposits the food on the dresser, then disappears, the brief respite from my honesty going with him.
Ian turns to face me, his hands resting lightly on my shoulders. “Ella, what is it? Something’s bothering you.”
I debate claiming illness, but while the lie springs to my lips, I know it’s pointless. I can’t hide my feelings. “I’ve had a great time today, Ian. Truly. But what are we doing? Your aunt thinks we’re ‘together,’” even saying that makes my face heat up, “and all it makes me think is that I don’t do things like this, Ian. I’m…responsible, a slow mover. I don’t go away overnight with a man I’ve just met.” My hands are clammy, yet my skin is cold, so I move closer to the brisk fire, staring into its orange depths. “You live in an area where I can barely afford a sandwich. You have a career and a close family and celebrity friends. I’ve got a business that’s not quite in the black, and I live in an apartment that could fit in your kitchen. Your aunt said you had a rough year. I don’t even know you well enough to understand what she means.” I lift my shoulders in defeat. “None of this resonates with the person I know myself to be. We’re crossing all sorts of lines I don’t usually tread.” I swallow and risk a glance at him. “What are we doing?”
He meets my gaze from his stance by the door. “Do we have to define it?” he asks softly.
“I want to be the kind of woman that can say no to that question, but I’m not.” I pick my fingernail, wishing for all the world that I was anyone but me at this moment. Why can’t I just enjoy time with a hot guy? Why does it always have to mean something? “I need definitions, Ian. I need to know what’s going on.”
Nodding, he joins me by the fire. He lays his hands lightly on my shoulders, drawing me back against him. “I meant what I said earlier, Ella. I want to get to know you better. I’m not sure what happened the last few days, but it’s been wonderful. And being with you…it feels good. But I can’t lie and say I know the future. You’re right: we don’t know each other that well. All I can say is this: when I’m with you, the world feels a bit brighter, and all I can think about is sharing space with you.” He runs his hands down my arms, sliding his fingers through mine. “What can I do to make you feel more comfortable?”
That’s the problem: I don’t know. I never realized how traditional my beliefs around dating and relationships are, but while Noah and Lux can hop in and out of bed with people, I can’t do that. “Could we try dating? In the traditional sense, where you ask me out to dinner, and I worry about what to wear?”
He chuckles. “Sure. Is that going to be enough?”
While I can’t answer his question, I appreciate that he asked. “Maybe?” I turn in his arms so I can face him. “This is out of my comfort zone, and I feel off-kilter. That doesn’t mean I’m not enjoying myself—I am. But I guess I’m nervous.”
“Then dinner and a movie it is.” He drops a kiss on my forehead. “Tuesday night?”
I nod.
“Let’s see.” He kisses my nose. “Dinner and a play on, say, Wednesday night?”
I grin. “Sounds good.”
He brushes his lips over my cheek. “Lunch on Thursday?”
“Sure,” I say breathlessly as his mouth travels down my neck.
“You probably have something going on with Elementary on Friday and my party’s on Saturday, so I’m thinking breakfast Sunday morning?” He slides my sweater over my head, then traces my collarbones with his fingers.
“That will probably work.”
His hands cradle my jaw, and he kisses me, his tongue finding mine. Then he outlines my face with his fingers. “By next week, we can be Facebook official.”
I laugh, a giddy thrill warming me, along with his adventurous hands as they massage my neck. “Of course. It doesn’t really happen unless it’s recorded on Facebook.”
He pulls back, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Hm. Then I better get my camera out.”
I squeal when he tickles my neck, and I back away from him, hands ready to fend off any more tickle attacks. “No, no, no. We don’t have to be that official.”
He rushes me, throwing me over his shoulder and depositing me on the bed gently. He tries to kiss my stomach, but I squirm away. He smiles down at me, then starts stripping out of his clothing. “You—don’t move,” he commands when I start to do the same. He unveils his body, watching me the whole time, and I can’t help but appreciate
the flat plane of his stomach, the hard muscles of his shoulders, and the sleek lines of his thighs. When he crawls onto the bed, he presses me back to the pillows, crushing my mouth to his.
Then he withdraws, looking into my eyes with a sober expression. “I should warn you: ‘Facebook official’ means something different in my world than it does in yours.” He tucks a stray curl behind my ear. “When you’re Mick Jeffries’ best friend, you don’t get a lot of privacy, especially when you haven’t gone to much trouble to stay out of his spotlight.” He shakes his head. “I had no idea what I was getting into when it all started—what, ten years ago now?—and it’s a little late to change things. At least, until his star burns out, which probably won’t happen for thirty or so years.”
I trace the line of his brow down to his jaw, enjoying the rough stubble against my fingertip. “Let’s not worry about it now. We can be secret and forbidden,” I tease, one eyebrow raised.
“Mm, I like the sound of that.” He dips his head, his teeth catching my nipple. I gasp, the pressure both welcome and uncomfortable, and he grins at me. “And I like that sound even better.”
He makes quick work of my inconvenient bra, tossing the offending item onto the floor and returning to my breasts. When I reach for him, he gathers my hands, holding my wrists above my head. “Relax, Ella. Just enjoy. I want to hear your pleasure.”
His words make me shiver, and as his fingers explore my body, I can barely lie still. He traps my leg between his, nudging my other thigh out of the way. With slow strokes, he spreads me, eliciting noises I barely recognize. As his fingertips trace lazy paths around my folds, he presses a kiss to my mouth. I cry out when he finally touches my sensitive bud.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispers, staring down at me.
I can feel him watching me, even as I squeeze my eyes closed against the intensity. His fingers widen inside me, his thumb strumming my clit as though the music stretches out before him. I want to lose myself in his mouth, but he holds my hands firmly, forcing me to make sounds and moans that would embarrass me if I weren’t floating in a haze of ecstasy.
He turns me so I’m on my side, my back to him. My muscles are wobbly things, still paralyzed from my orgasm. After a rip of foil and discreet shifting on the bed to maneuver the condom, he curls behind me. He inserts his thighs between mine, opening me as his cock nudges at my entrance.
“I have to hear you come again.” He kisses my shoulder as his arms encircle me. When he pushes inside, I strain back against him to accept his length, reveling in his hardness. With one arm anchoring me to him, he uses his other hand to tease my breasts as his slow strokes serve to extend my delirious high. We rock in a rhythm that increases in tempo until he shifts so I can roll onto my stomach. As he slides into me, I lift my hips so he has deeper purchase. Forced to accept only sensation, thoughts disappear as my orgasm threatens again.
When he kisses my back, I raise my head. “Harder, Ian. God, please, harder.”
He obeys, and the delicious friction sends me into a frenzy. I buck against him, squeezing his cock inside me until he groans with his own climax. Sweaty and spent, we collapse to catch our breath. Then he gathers me to him, and I leave the world, disappearing into sleep.
CHAPTER 9
PLAYING IT CLOSE
Rheanna doesn’t let us leave without promises of returning. “You don’t get to keep this gorgeous girl a secret, Ian Crane.” She raises an evil eyebrow at her nephew.
He has the graciousness to look guilty. “I promise to call Mom this week.”
“No, no. Not this week. Tonight.”
He hugs her and kisses her cheek. “Yes, warden.”
She swats his shoulder, then pulls me in for a tight embrace. “It was a pleasure getting to know you, Ella. Come back anytime.”
While Ian took an emergency business meeting in our room this morning, I wandered downstairs for breakfast and ended up sitting with Rheanna for over an hour, kibitzing about her bed and breakfast and Elementary. Despite her blustery exterior, she’s actually very engaging and kind.
“Thank you, Rheanna. It’s been a pleasure.”
“You are one lucky man, Ian. Gorgeous, talented, intelligent. I approve.” Rheanna winks at me.
I want to melt into the floor with her compliments. “I know, Aunt Ray. Lucky I found her, eh?”
The ride back to the city finds us both a bit quiet. When he reaches for my hand, I intertwine my fingers with his, then trace the line of his knuckles.
“What are you thinking over there?”
My thoughts have been tumultuous, between my conversation with Ian last night and my brother on Saturday. “Quite a few things, I guess.”
“Want to share any of them?”
I glance over at him, his beautiful profile interrupted by aviator sunglasses, which of course, look fabulous on him. “Honestly, my brother and I are sort of at odds, which isn’t a normal state for us. We always get along.”
His full lips turn down. “I’m sorry. What happened?”
I take a deep breath, then tell him about our discussion on Saturday. “I never realized how passionate he was about acting, and I’ve been trying to blame him for not being more outspoken about it. But the more I think about it, I think he has been. I’ve just ignored the signs because they didn’t line up with our goals for Elementary.”
“Ella, you’re human. And you two have a business together. It’s easy to get lost in spreadsheets and business plans when your livelihood is on the line.” He takes his eyes off the road for a moment, gauging my reaction. “Okay, clearly, that doesn’t help you. What do you think would help?”
I shrug, slipping into the emotions that dragged me down on Saturday. “I’m not sure. He says he wants Elementary to be successful, and that he wants to be part of it. And a week ago, I would have believed him. But I saw it in his eyes, Ian. He wants a chance at acting, and he’s good. I’m not just saying that. He’s very, very good. I…I just don’t know why I didn’t see it before.”
Ian doesn’t say anything, and for a few moments, I fear I’ve shared too much. Nothing like knowing a guy less than a week before dumping your family drama on him.
Then his expression brightens. “How ‘good’ would you say your brother is? I know you’re his sister and that biases you, but be as honest as you can—I’ll never tell Noah,” he teases, squeezing my hand.
“I’m not an expert on the subject, but I’ve always thought he had a gift few others did when it came to saying lines. He just knows how to express emotion in such a way that you can’t avoid it. He’s always been that way. He took some acting classes when we were in college—at a local theater school—and I know he got rave reviews from the productions he did with them. Obviously, I think he’s great, but others have said something similar.”
“Look, Mick’s going to be at my birthday party, and you said Noah acts in your plays, right?”
I nod.
“If Mick thinks he has something, I’ll talk to him about making some introductions. We’ll see if we can get some attention on Noah.”
My stomach thrills at the thought. “Seriously? Ian, that would be incredible.”
He snorts. “Mick owes me a number of favors. You don’t get to be a big shot celebrity without needing legal advice, and Mick has tapped the well many a-time. It’s about time he pays me back.”
“I don’t know what to say.” The idea of Noah being connected to someone as influential as Mick Jeffries…the idea floors me.
“You don’t have to say anything. It will be up to Noah. Though I wouldn’t tell him, if I were you. It might just make him more nervous.”
I nod in agreement. While I’ve never known Noah to be nervous about much of anything, he always puts his best into his performances, so there’s no point in mentioning it. And even less disappointment involved if Mick doesn’t think Noah has what it takes.
Ian drops me off with a promise of tomorrow night’s dinner and a movie. “Your pick.”
/>
I smile, unable to let go of his hand just yet. “Adventure or romance?”
He thinks for a moment. “Either. Whatever you think looks good. I’ll watch pretty much anything.” He nuzzles my neck before kissing me. “Of course, if you scare easily and think you might end up on my lap, I’m all for horror movies.”
With a laugh, I shake my head. “Nope. I don’t scare easily. I actually watched all of The Human Centipede one night, while Noah was hiding behind his fingers for most of it.” I wink. “It was his idea, mind you. He hasn’t been too keen on watching the sequel.”
Ian shakes his head. “I don’t even want to know what it’s about.”
“The title tells you everything you need to know.”
We manage to squeeze out another five minutes, alone in his car parked up the street from my apartment. But he has half a day of work ahead of him, and I have some explaining to do when I get home. With regret, I leave the cocoon of his Audi, and with a final kiss, head home.
“I sent you a text message explaining I would be home in the morning.”
Noah glares at me. “You’ve never done anything like this before.”
I shake my head, a wry grin curling my mouth as this feels likes a reversal of roles. “Um, who are you to get all out of sorts because I chose to go away overnight? One, I’m an adult.” I hold up a finger. “Two, I let you know that I’d be home so you’d know I was safe—which is more than you’ve done for me on many occasions.” I add a third finger. “Three, it was one night. I wasn’t gone for a week. It was one day, and one night. I’m home, the business hasn’t fallen apart, and I’m in one piece.” I shake my head at his annoyed expression. “You’re just irritated because you didn’t know all the details.”
He drops into his office chair, a blend of irritation and respect on his face. “Maybe. You’ve never kept things like this from me. I’m glad to see you happy, Ells. But why the secrecy?”
His capitulation comes a bit too easy, and I’m still in the middle of feeling superior about my stealth. So it takes me a moment to come up with an answer. “I guess because I always watch from the outside, little brother.” I join him at his desk, perching on the corner. “You and Lux are all about going out, meeting lovers, and being wild. It’s kind of nice having my own little bit of crazy behavior that keeps you on edge.”
