CHAPTER TWENTY
IT WAS NOT LONG BEFORE LAUREN got her life in order, or what was left of it, she rationalized. Starting that first day she had made a visit to the bank and after reassuring that she had enough funds she went in search of a house to rent. Thank heavens she had been saving most of the money she had made from her shows.
She found the cutest little one bedroom house, a good distance outside of the busy town of Ocho Rios and within a week she had moved in. Anna had voiced her unease with the situation, stating that she needed to be around friends at least for a few more weeks. Lauren had gently but firmly told her friend that she would be just fine and she would call and visit regularly. Even as she had said the words she knew it was a lie, she would never be alright again, not without Jordan by her side.
Work was another matter. Harry had called her back to work a week into her visit at the Myles’ estate, informing her that he had received calls from several producers desirous of working with her. For once she and Jordan had agreed on something pertaining to her work; she needed time to recuperate before she resumed performing. Ultimately they had decided once they came back from their honeymoon cruise, she would return. A pang of sadness encompassed her at the memory of Jordan.
Her wedding day arrived as beautiful as ever a day could be; only she was not getting married because she had walked out on the man who had done nothing but love her. She had been prepared to remain in bed all day or just mope around the house, however Anna had other ideas. The sun had barely risen over the horizon before she was banging on Lauren’s door demanding that she get up and get dressed as they were going shopping for her new house. The day had been as grueling as it always was whenever Anna decided on such an excursion. Yet she had sat up in bed that night, listening to mini Jordan’s entire collection of songs, the yearning in her heart doubling tenfold.
She had thought of calling Jordan to ascertain that he was alright, but opted against it. The less he heard from her the better; she had caused him enough heartache as it was. He had been such an integral part of her life that she barely went an hour without thinking of him. She had long since resigned herself to the fact that the memories of him would be a constant reminder of just what she had lost.
She surveyed herself in the dressing room mirror. Smile she told herself, curling her lips in an attempt at it. It was her first performance in almost three months and she was as nervous as ever. Jordan would not be here tonight to cheer her on, she mused sadly. A tear trickled down her cheeks; she dashed it aside. There would be no more of that, she told herself seriously. Just then there was a knock at the door.
“Come in”, she called, and Harry stepped into the room.
“Ready kiddo?” he asked, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror.
Lauren did not miss the puzzled concern in their dark depths. She ignored it. The less she spoke about it, the sooner she would forget. Liar, her mind screamed. The memories would haunt her for the rest of her miserable existence.
“As ready as I’ll ever be”, she quipped with a nonchalance she did not feel.
Adding the last touches to her makeup she made her way to the stage leaving Harry to follow the requisite distance. The crowd was ecstatic to see her and before long she had them rocking and singing along or just simply enjoying the music. She was glad they never saw the heart broken girl who cried herself to sleep each night, or the girl who stumbled through her pathetic existence because she did not have the drive to live, or the tears that clouded her tormented eyes at the end of every performance as she scanned the crowd for that one familiar face only to find he was never there and never would be ever again.
IN THE WEEKS THAT FOLLOWED LAUREN fell into a sustainable routine. The band would perform into the wee hours of the morning after which Lauren would sleep until noon or a little later and then it was on to rehearsals. It was like this day after day, week after week, except when she was forced to take a day off because of the other members of the band.
She would spend these days with Anna and Cara, playing with Cara and taking turns to feed her. Lauren just could not resist the cherubic little thing. She and Anna would talk of inconsequential things, all the while pretending to be happy and praying that Anna would not see through her facade. After which she would go back to the hotel to sit on her patio to stare at the glistening dark waters of the Caribbean Sea and the young lovers as they kissed below the stars, concluding that this was as good as her life would get.
Each day spilled into the next and before she knew it four weeks had passed since she had moved out of her Aunts’ house. It was quite a shame but she had only spent two nights in her house as she could not bear the loneliness. In all the time since their impromptu separation she had not once had a glimpse of Jordan. While she had been deeply disappointed at this, she had convinced herself that it was for the best.
Tonight they were performing at a grand charity gala and everyone who was anyone had been invited. At least so she had been told. Every so often she would glance at the entrance to the ballroom and as much as she denied it, deep down she knew exactly who she wanted to see. Her heart stopped at the sight of his breathtakingly handsome face as he entered the room, her chest tightened painfully as she saw the stunning woman in a slinky black dress hanging on to his left arm.
She fought hard to regain her composure, surveying the crowd to ensure that no one had seen her momentary lapse. Thank God her audience seemed unaware and for the remainder of her presentation she struggled to let it remain that way even as her eyes hungrily followed the powerful figure clad in an elegant black dinner suit. As she bade her listeners a goodnight to make way for the next band she told herself that she was not hurt by the fact that Jordan had not glanced her way even once since he had entered the room roughly an hour before.
She sipped on a glass of water, trying to ease the throbbing in her head, as individuals came to congratulate her on her performance.
“Are you ok?” Nickolas asked when she finally broke through her throng of admirers to stand in a quiet corner of the room by herself.
She had been so wrong about him. He had been so kind to her in the weeks since she had returned to the band.
“I’m fine”, she forced a wan smile, “just a slight headache. It will wear off soon”.
“You sure?” he enquired, his usually hard face softening with concern, “maybe we should go for a walk on the beach”.
She hesitated for a moment, scanning the crowd she found Jordan twirling the woman he had come with on the dance floor.
“Come on”, Nickolas encouraged, “the fresh air will help with the headache”.
“I guess it would”, she agreed, allowing him to lead her through the doors that led to the beach.
JORDAN WATCHED THEM GO, his fist clenching at his sides as Nickolas placed his hands at the small of her back as they disappeared through the French doors. They had gotten pretty chummy, the last he remembered she had been quite wary of the guy, now they acted as if they were lovers. He gritted his teeth at the thought; no matter he still did not trust the guy.
He gave himself a mental shake. What she did was no longer of any concern to him. Besides, was it not clear that her emotions were as fickle as the weather? Either that or she was a heartless woman who cared only for herself and saw nothing in hurting others to get what she wanted. The latter seemed more fitting, as far as he was concerned.
He had agonized incessantly over the situation. Questioning how he could have been such a fool so as not to realize that he was being used or that she was an imposter. Yet images of her as they had loved that morning before he had gone on his business trip, her eyes glazed with passion or her soft lips clinging to his and begging him to stay had him yearning for what might have been. It was during moments such as this that he had wondered if he had somehow missed something. When his mind refused to believe that someone could fake the depth of affection he had seen in her eyes at times.
However, with all things considered, he had
been made to look the fool as he had delivered the embarrassing news to his family and friends that there would be no wedding. His mother had been so distraught that she had taken to her bed for a whole week; complaining that she had the headaches. He had not missed the pitiful stares he had received, or the silence that overcame a room as soon as he entered or the nasty rumor that he had been jilted by his gold digging fiancé a mere week before their marriage.
As if he did not have enough to contend with, everywhere he looked there was something to remind him of her. Her scent clung to his bed, he saw her in his kitchen cooking up a storm or in his garden nurturing her beloved flowers. Frustrated beyond consolation, he had moved into his hotel suite, at least she had never been there, willing himself to divest all memories of soft brown eyes and curly light brown hair. Hence he had directed all his wayward emotions into his businesses, working himself to a hilt.
He had honestly believed his mechanizations had been effective, however as he had taken stolen glances at her tonight, he knew for sure that he still wanted her. He knew he was an idiot for allowing it but he was helpless against it. He wished he could peel away that lovely red dress and bury himself into her slick heat. His body throbbed painfully at the delectable idea. Where the hell were they? More importantly what were they doing? It seemed they had been gone for hours.
Christina, his date for the evening, glided over to him, her hips swaying in blatant invitation. He curled his lips into a smile that did not reach his eyes. Smiling in return she molded her voluptuous curves along his hard length and to his utter annoyance, the heat coursing through his veins died as if it had been doused with ice water. What the hell was wrong with him? Was he to become an impotent with the exception of one woman? Thoroughly disgusted with himself, he tried hard to focus on the woman before him who was obviously making an effort to hold his attention.
LAUREN CLOSED HER EYES AGAINST the invigorating chill of the night air coming in from the sea. The stars twinkled in a cloudless night sky and the cool sand felt wonderful beneath her bare feet. If only nature could comfort her heart as easily as it did her body. They had walked a few paces down the beach then stopped to enjoy their surroundings.
Nickolas turned suddenly, leaning his head towards hers. She was just in time to avert her head before his lips touched hers. She had genuinely thought his interest did not go beyond that of friendship. Had she been so out of sorts that she had unconsciously encouraged his intention? She doubted it.
“I’m sorry Nicholas”, she began uncomfortably, “I really do not like you like that”.
“Like hell you don’t”, she barely registered his venomous expression in the dim moonlight before he seized both her wrists in one of his big hands, “it’s ok for you to be his bitch because he is rich, right?”
“Stop it!” she began to wrestle against his hold, fearing what he intended to do.
“Shut up”, he roared, his free hand coming into hard contact with her left cheek.
She yelped in pain increasing her efforts of escape.
“Don’t even think about screaming”, he threatened, “no one will hear you all the way out here anyways”
Shoving her against a palm tree, her wrists still held tightly in his hand, he kissed her roughly. His tongue tested the seam of her mouth for entry as his free hand roamed her body non too gently, ripping her dress in his haste. Ceasing to struggle, she opened her mouth as if to give him access. He took the bait, groaning in triumph.
This was short lived as she bit sharply into his tongue and brought her knee up between his legs. He pulled his legs together, lessening the impact of the blow although he cried out in pain, his hold on her slackening and she made a run for it.
She hardly ran a few paces before he dragged her back to him, resuming their earlier position.
“You like to play rough don’t you”, he sneered obviously elated before he grazed her lips harshly with his teeth until she tasted blood.
Dread settled in the pit of her stomach. He was going to rape her and no one would come to her aid as this side of the beach was only used by the ballroom's occupants and they could not be seen from here. She had suffered so much these past months; she did not believe she would live through such an ordeal. This was definitely the last straw.
WHY ON EARTH HAD HE LEFT the festivities on such a pointless pursuit? She is a grown woman whom he was sure can take care of herself, he told himself for the millionth time as he trudged through the sand. After listening to Christina chatter on endlessly about nothing in particular, he had simply had enough and had excused himself under the pretext of needing some fresh air. As he had quit the room, he kept remembering Lauren telling him of Nickolas making harassing passes at her that first night they had met.
So here he was, on his way to rescue the damsel in distress in a bid to appease his conscience. Despite all that had transpired between them he did not wish to see her harmed, he admitted grudgingly. He spotted a couple in the distance, locked in a fiery embrace and stopped dead in his tracks as the moonlight highlighted what was most definitely Lauren’s red dress. He felt as if he had been kicked in the gut and all the air had left his body.
What had he expected, that they had simply stepped outside to enjoy the sea breeze? He turned to leave but not before something caught his attention. Nickolas’ body was pinning Lauren to the palm tree as if to restrain her. At that moment Lauren began to struggle against him, to which Nickolas made no indication to relent.
Jordan sprung immediately into action, ripping the man from her body, hardly cognizant of Lauren crumpling to the sand as both men tumbled to the ground and Jordan’s hands curled around the other man’s neck and squeezed. Nickolas fought against him, trying to prize Jordan’s fingers from his throat but he was no match for Jordan’s strength and he was struggling to breathe.
“Jordan, let go”, a second pair of male hands sought to loosen Jordan’s grip with little success.
Jordan recognized the voice as Harry’s, through the murdering rage consuming him but he could not relent. Nickolas deserved to die for what he had done.
“Don’t do this”, Harry pleaded, “Lauren needs you more right now”.
At the mention of her name, Jordan’s ire cooled somewhat and he heard the whimpering sounds coming from her. Slowly Jordan’s fingers unfurled from Nickolas’s throat and he began to gasp for air.
“Get him out of my sight”, Jordan demanded scornfully, “before I’m tempted to finish what I’ve started”.
Nickolas pulled himself up from the sand and ran towards the ballroom Harry in tow as Jordan turned to Lauren. He could see that she was trying hard to hold on to her composure even though she trembled uncontrollable. He realized that her dress was torn almost to her navel, exposing her bra. He shrugged out of his Jacket and placed it over her shoulders and pulled her to her feet.
She stumbled and he swept her into his arms, inquiring of her room number. She told him shakily and he turned in the opposite direction he had come in an effort to skirt the ballroom. He frowned noting that she had lost weight, but why? Had she not been eating properly? Probably working too hard, he concluded. She groped in her purse for her key as they got to her room, but her hands shook so badly that he had to open it for her.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
KICKING THE DOOR CLOSED; he deposited her on the bed to rummage through the small fridge for a packet of ice. Pausing to collect a glass and a decanter of brandy that he knew was supplied to every room. Placing the ice on the night table he poured a sniffer of the liquid into the glass and handed it to her. She made to take it but it merely slipped through her shaking fingers and fell silently to the carpeted floor, staining the cream surface.
“I’m sorry”, she mumbled, attempting to recover the glass.
“It’s ok. I’ll get it”, he said as he picked up the glass and retrieved a fresh one.
This time he was careful not to give her the glass instead he placed it against her bruised lips and instructed her
to sip. She choked on the first taste but drank meekly none the less. That done he pressed the ice packet to her injured cheek. Slowly the color returned to her face but her eyes were wide with fear. He did not want to think of what might have happened if he had not happened by when he did or if he had gotten there a few minutes later.
Her entire face began to tremble all of a sudden and huge droplets of tears fell from her eyes. He threw aside the ice and took her into his arms. She pressed her face into his neck as he attempted to reassure her; telling her that everything would be fine and that she was safe now. Gradually her sniveling ceased and the air in the room seemed to electrify.
Her warm breath on his neck sent delicious thrills along his body as her soft bosom pressed provocatively into his chest where he held her against him. She was no longer someone in need of comfort but the woman he had, against his best intentions, longed to stroke until they were both mindless with desire.
She lifted her head from his shoulder and her eyes met his, the fire he was feeling reflecting in their smoky depths. Her lips rose to meet his, soft and persuasive and he was like a ship drifting aimlessly at sea. Groaning he gave in to the raw passion that was brewing inside him, devouring her lips in a searing kiss that was rough in its intensity. Before he knew it, they were tearing at each other’s clothes until they were both completely naked. He flipped her unto her stomach, gripping her hips; he pulled her to her hands and knees, resting his shaft at the crest of her moist opening.
They had never done this position before and she found it wickedly exhilarating. She moaned in pleasure as he flicked her nipples between his forefingers and thumbs as he nipped her shoulders down to the small of her back. She squealed with delight as without pre-empt or warning he thrust inside her feminine core, hot and hard, in one solid stroke. She sensed something raw and primal in him as he pummeled her quivering flesh, his wild strokes brimming on pain. Gone was the tender lover she had once known instead he was like an angry beast charging at his prey. Yet she wanted it, needed it, she felt as if she wanted him to rip her apart.
Twisted Pursuits Page 13
