Crossing the Line: Without a Trace series, a contemporary erotic romance novel

by Bishop, Ally

  “What did happen with your book?” I ask quietly.

  He inhales deeply, as though dreading his next words. “Your P.I. was right. Casey had gambling debts, and rather than simply ask for help, he figured your team would get blamed. And, if we’re being honest, I think he did it to get even with me.”

  “To get even?”

  “My mom and dad were often Casey’s only parental guideposts. While his parents aren’t horrible people, they didn’t really know how to do the job—or maybe didn’t care to learn. It’s hard to say. But there was always both an appreciation and a jealously when we were kids. Casey used to say that we were born to the wrong families because I took mine for granted, in his view.” He presses his lips together, frustration etching his expression. “I think the plan was to pawn the book, but despite his motivations, he loved my father. And the idea of letting go of something my dad valued…he couldn’t do it. Not that it would have yielded enough to pay his debts, anyway.”

  “I saw in a news article that he got hurt pretty badly.”

  Ian nodded. “Yes, he did. That’s how I found out about it, though after you told me what the investigator had discovered…well, I could connect the dots for myself.”

  More awkward silence commences, and I’m not sure what to say. Seeing him across from me, sitting as though we’re here for a morning coffee together, makes my heart ache for that to be true. But fear holds me in place, stops me from opening my mouth. What if I’ve been wrong about him? What if Mick’s perceptions weren’t accurate? What if…

  “My ex cheated on me,” I blurt out, surprised to hear the words coming out of my mouth.

  Ian says nothing, just watches me curiously, waiting for me to continue.

  “That’s why I freaked out that night…the night I called you.” My body flushes as I recall my drunken accusations. “I…we were…” I trail off, unsure how to explain. Then I decide to just jump in. “I told you about Jonathan before. A little bit, anyway.” I can’t look at Ian, for fear I’ll lose my nerve. “We were together for five years. I was almost twenty-four when we broke up. He went on to law school upstate, after graduating, and we were supposed to make it work. I stayed in the city with Noah, which conveniently made it easier for my brother to afford rent, and Jonathan and I saw each other on weekends. At that point, I should have known it wouldn’t last. Noah did—he saw it coming long before I did. But then the weekends started becoming every other, then once a month. He blamed it on his studies, which sounded legitimate. And one weekend, a couple weeks before his birthday…well, it’s the same old story. I went up to surprise him, and I found him with someone else. It had been going on for months. Noah claims he was cheating even when we were in school. I don’t know.” I pick at a fingernail, the embarrassment and pain still ripe enough to taste. I can’t look at Ian, for fear I’ll see pity there. “Anyway, it…threw me off my game for a long time. I’ve always been the first to believe in people, to think that they’re sincere and honest. And he broke that in me. I lost myself in my stories and building Elementary. That was easier somehow—to focus on things I couldn’t control, necessarily, but knew I could at least do them without feeling foolish.” Tears swim in my eyes, and I blink hard, fighting them.

  “I’m so sorry, Ella.” He reaches across the table, covering my hands with his.

  “It’s over. And I think I’m finally past it.” His skin warms mine, and after a moment, I turn my palm up against his.

  A small smile curves his lips. “I guess that leaves me with one question.”

  I meet his gaze, the intensity of it causing a small thrill up my back. “And what’s that?”

  “Can we try again?” His thumb brushes over my knuckles, his eyes looking deeply into mine.

  “I would like that,” I say without missing a beat. “I would like that very much.”

  CHAPTER 23

  PRELUDE TO A WEDDING?

  One Year Later

  I can’t do it. I won’t do it.” In my head, I’m screaming. But in reality, I’m probably barely speaking above a whisper. “You can’t make me marry him.”

  Lux eyes me warily. “No one’s making you do anything, sweetie. How much of that vodka have you had?”

  “What…are you…talking about? I drop my head on my arms, the motion causing my brain to tip sideways.

  “Hm.” She must take the bottle off the table, as I can hear the contents sloshing around. “This wasn’t a full bottle, was it?”

  I ignore her accusatory tone, a sob ripping through me. “I can’t marry him! Where’s my phone? I need to call Ian and tell him. The whole thing—we have to call it off.” We spot my cell at the same time, but for some reason, Lux moves faster than me, and my fingers slip off the smooth edge as she snatches my phone off the table.

  “No, you don’t. You need to sober up first.” Lux tucks the phone into her jeans pocket before retaking her seat across from me at her kitchen table. “No calling your intended until you are in your right mind.”

  “I am in my right mind. It’s wrong. All wrong,” I wail, hot tears snaking down my cheeks. “Can’t you see that? He’s smart, successful, and ready to start a family.”

  “And you’re not?” She hands me a napkin.

  “Not yet.” I sniffle into the rough paper, trying to stem the emotion that won’t seem to let up. “We just hired people for Elementary, and we don’t know if we’ll be able to keep them on full-time for more than six months. Not to mention, what if I get pregnant? I’m not ready to stay home and be a mother. How can I continue to work on Elementary if I have a baby?”

  Lux’s eyes pop open. “Wait a second—Ian wants to have children right away?”

  I wag my head. “No, I do. But I’m not ready. Not yet.”

  With a shake of her head, Lux tries again. “So let me get this straight: you don’t think you’re ready to have the children Ian isn’t pressuring you to have, because of Elementary, which has grown in leaps and bounds over the last year? And despite the incredible success and increased celebrity clientele you’ve recruited, you don’t see yourself as successful?”

  A fresh course of tears pours down my face as I nod.

  “You’ve definitely had too much to drink. Are we at the vomiting stage yet?” Lux heads for the small trashcan in the bathroom.

  I don’t answer her, too overcome with grief to explain my warring fears. And I’m starting to think I might have had a bit too much booze, as when I look down at my hands, I have more than two.

  When Lux returns, she sets the waste bin beside me before leaning her hip against the table, looking down at me. “Sweetie, Ian isn’t a ‘barefoot and pregnant’ kind of man. I have no doubt that he’ll be just as involved with your children as you want to be. And God knows, you two can afford a nanny, so it’s not like you’ll be tied to the house 24/7 anyway. So when you want to have children—when you both decide it’s right—I don’t think you’re going to have to worry.”

  “What if you’re wrong? What if he’s really traditional?” My face and hands feel like they’re burning up, but an ominous chill surges from my belly.

  “Only you can answer that one, babe. But let’s keep that conversation for when you aren’t ready to hurl.”

  Lux got the trashcan just in time.

  Noah’s face greets me, the sun streaming in the window behind him causing me to squint.

  “You couldn’t keep her sober for one night?” He glares behind him, where I presume Lux is standing.

  “Hey, it’s not my fault she turned into the lush in the family. Who knew you set such a shining example to follow?” Lux moves to stand beside my brother, peering down at me. “Besides, you could have skipped the bachelor party and hung out with your sister if you were that worried about her.”

  Brutal pressure pounds behind my eyes, and the effort of talking seems a bit too much. So I groan instead and roll over.

  “Time to get up, Ells. Your beauty regimen and multiple stylists await for your big day.” But e
ven Noah sounds doubtful. “And after last night, they’ve got their work cut out for them.”

  I stick my leg out from the covers and aim for his crotch. I manage to clip his knee, and he stumbles, which cheers me considerably. “Take that.”

  He smacks my leg lightly. “All right, you’re on duty, Lulu. She’s your problem. I have to make sure the groomsmen aren’t in the same state after the party last night.”

  After a bit of grumbling, I roll off the bed, pushing past Lux as I meander to the bathroom. Noah wasn’t kidding, though. I have dark circles ringing my eyes, and my skin is pinched and sallow. I don’t do hangovers well at all. “Ugh. I’m never drinking again.”

  Lux peeks in, then shifts behind me so I can see her in the mirror. “You said that the last time.”

  I narrow my eyes. “It’s been at least a year since my last foolish drinking episode. And I mean it this time. No more.” I lean closer to the mirror, mortified by my under-eye shadow.

  “Don’t worry—that’s what concealer’s for.”

  I stand up, not interested in whether I look perfect for my wedding. “Am I doing the right thing?” I ask softly, meeting her gray gaze in the mirror.

  She wraps her arms around me and rests her chin on my shoulder. “Do you love him?”

  I nod immediately.

  “Then you’ll figure out the rest. Does he know about your worry about having a family? Have you talked about it?”

  “Sort of. I mean, yes, we have. And we agreed on it at the time…” I trail off, feeling ridiculous for freaking out over something that seems a bit trivial now. Ian said he was willing to wait to have a family until I felt like Elementary could survive without my constant involvement. We’d even agreed on having two children, raising them in the Long Island house we just purchased together. We discussed names and picked out ones for a girl and a boy. So why am I suddenly so irrational?

  “Then you’re just having last minute nerves. It will be fine.”

  But my gut won’t stop roiling, even as we head out for the salon.

  “I have to talk to Ian.” I turn to her in the taxi. “I know I don’t have time, and I’m going to miss my hair appointment. But I have to.”

  Lux squeezes my shoulder. “I can do your hair. Let’s go.”

  I’m so thankful she doesn’t say anything about the bad luck associated with seeing the groom before the wedding because right now, I don’t care. The taxi whisks us towards Ian’s place on the Upper East Side. I dig out my key, the one Ian gave me almost immediately upon our agreement to try again, and practically leap out of the taxi when we arrive. Still in my yoga pants and sneakers, my hair pulled up sloppily in a clip, I nearly topple Ian over when I explode through his door.

  “What are you doing here?”

  I curl into his arms, and he thinks better of asking questions.

  From behind us, Lux interjects, “I’m going to go grab some coffee and food. Be back in an hour, okay?”

  With gentle prodding, Ian eases me into the living room and sits on the couch, holding me in his lap.

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing. I just…needed to see you.”

  He pulls me close again, smelling faintly of spicy aftershave and the delicious scent of him. I press my nose into his neck, inhaling deeply. “I thought you weren’t supposed to see me before the wedding?”

  “I don’t care.” My words are muffled against his sweatshirt. I hear his heartbeat, feel it beneath my ear, and the comfort it brings is instantaneous.

  “Talk to me. What has you upset?”

  His presence steadies me, reminds me of how reliable he is, something I’ve taken for granted this past year. “I got scared.” I lift a shoulder. “What if we’re wrong, and we’re rushing things? What if we end up regretting getting married?”

  “Where’s this coming from, Ella? What has you so afraid?”

  I slide off his lap so I’m sitting beside him, and I look into his warm, if confused, gaze. “I…” I wrap my arms around myself, desperate to explain, but feeling ridiculous. “I’ve been all I’ve had for a really long time, Ian. I mean, there’s Noah, but we’ve always…I’m usually the one taking care of him. Not that I minded,” I rush to explain. “He’s always been there for me. But I’ve always known that I was it. If things fall apart, it’s egg on my face, and mine alone. And now, I guess I’m just a bit…off-kilter.” I hug myself tighter, unsure if I’m saying the right—or wrong—thing.

  Ian watches me for a moment, then wraps his arm around me, pulling me into his side. “You’ve never had anyone else who can pick up the slack. Is that it?”

  “Maybe a little.” I shrug. “I’m used to being the responsible one, I guess. I’ve never been able to let go of that feeling.”

  He tips my face up so I can’t look away. “Ella, I love you. I have since the first day we met, and you showed me what sincerity and empathy were. Whatever has you worried—we’ll figure it out. Together. Do you doubt that?”

  In his gaze, I see nothing other than truth and love. “No, I don’t. Truly. I’m just scared.”

  He kisses me, with a passion so hot and purposeful, I’m left gasping when he pulls away. He leans his forehead against mine. “I’m scared, too, in some ways. But I think that’s a good thing. This means something, to both of us. We don’t take it lightly.” He frames my face with his hands. “I will always be there, Ella. You’re not alone anymore.”

  I’m thankful I didn’t get to do my makeup yet as a tear escapes over my cheek. “I love you.”

  His lips find mine, and for a few moments, I’m lost in him, remembering why I agreed to marry him only a few months ago. The sweetness of his proposal—early December in Central Park, late one night, long after the holiday revelers had dissipated—and his belief in us swept me off my feet…but even more than that—his conviction and loyalty have been unshakeable from day one. What woman wouldn’t lose her heart? I certainly did.

  “I love you, too,” he says, trailing a finger over my jaw. “Are we ready to do this?”

  I nod. “Yes, we are.”

  “Feel better?”

  We’re in the limo, and I’m already ditching the removable train and flowered headpiece. We took pictures before the ceremony, largely so our guests wouldn’t have to wait around for hours while we futzed with organizing group shots. Besides, we really wanted more candid images from before the wedding and during the reception. Not exactly traditional, I know, but when have I ever been tied to rules and conventions?

  Don’t answer that.

  I lean in to kiss Ian. “With you? Always.”

  Our kiss turns into something a bit too scorching for a wedding dress to manage, and he glares at the tulle and taffeta separating his hands from where they want to be. “No chance this thing has an easy escape hatch like in the movies?”

  With a laugh, I shake my head. “You should have seen Lux helping me get into this monstrosity. It’s like a deathtrap of lace and seed-beading.” Mind you, it’s gorgeous—a dream design that I couldn’t have been more pleased with…but the complexity of simply putting it on was daunting to both me and Lux—and she wears complicated clothing as part of her job.

  “You do look beautiful in it, though. Of course, you’re stunning in sweatpants, too.” He slips his palm over my satin-trapped waist. “Or nothing.”

  “Hm. Right now, I wish it was nothing.”

  “You know…” His grin turns evil, and he buzzes the driver. “Can you take the long way, Tony? The really long way?”

  “You got it, boss,” Tony says through the speaker. “I know how these things work.”

  My cheeks are inflamed, but Ian laughs and examines my gown for weaknesses. “Aha.”

  “I’ll never get back into it,” I squeal, though if I’m honest, I’m not fighting him all that hard.

  “I’m an attorney. I can get you into and out of just about anything, sweetheart.” He gives me a crooked eyebrow and shady wink, and I dissolve into giggles. With som
e work, we’re able to pry me out of the bodice, though my torso is fully covered by my bustier.

  He goes for the foundation garment’s back enclosure, but I shake my head. “No, no, this thing has about a hundred hooks. I’ll never get it back on.” I shuck my shoes, then give him one quick glance at the very skimpy g-string I wore before sliding that off and into the pile of matrimonial garb.

  “What have you turned me into? I used to be a good girl with principles and proper behavior.”

  He brushes my shaking fingers aside and unbuttons his pants. “You still are. But I discovered those angelic eyes and porcelain skin hide the vixen beneath.” He helps me straddle him, his mouth nipping my neck as I sink down on his lap. His cock trapped between us, I rub against him while he tugs at my bustier to free my breasts.

  “You are breathtaking, Ella.” He caresses my skin, his fingers teasing the hardening tips. Bending his head, he suckles the sensitive bud, and I drop my head back, my hands in his hair.

  When I can’t wait any longer, I barely have to tilt my hips, and he pushes into me. I sigh, loving the way he fills me. He continues his adoration of my breasts, letting me relax around him. Then he guides me into a slow rhythm, his mouth hungry on mine, our breaths turning ragged.

  He slides his hand between us, finding me, and heat curls out from my core, encasing me in a wave of pleasure. My whimper turns into a moan, and he gently scrapes my nipple with his teeth. He continues his patient torture, and I have no choice but to follow each roiling current to the end. I’ve given up trying to silence myself, and when I feel him tighten inside of me, his own release near, he kisses me hard before urging, “Let me hear you, sweetheart.”

  I cry out as he shakes against me, the impact of his climax driving my own. When the pressure finally spirals out of control, I have no choice but to give into it, letting the well of sensation overflow.

  I can only hope the limo driver’s hard of hearing.

  “I could watch you come for hours,” Ian teases as he wraps his arms around me. “You’re like some sort of goddess with your lusty noises and pink skin.”