by Pamela Ann
The never-ending questions kept on barging in my head, but one stood out more than the rest. A particular memory stayed fresh in my mind. “You hate feeling that, don’t you?”
Bass, for the time that I had known him, had never lied.
Hearing his answer, blatant and direct, still had a direct effect on me. “There were a lot of times that I did, but here, right this second, no.” He stepped closer, a couple of feet away from where I sat, appearing apathetic.
“I’ve fought it off, but I knew my days were numbered.” He looked away, showing a glimpse of vulnerability in him before those bottomless, lethal-blue depths penetrated my soul with one, quick, baneful thrust of the kind of magic we made together. “Last night was me accepting—surrendering—because my fate lies with you, Emma.”
Magic, we did create. Bass was a sorcerer. Weaving spells that took us higher, reaching a celestial-like paradise that we made together. It was beautiful, electrifying and indubitably powerful.
BUT the downfall was just as powerful. It was a diabolical passage of teaching you that sometimes it was better to play it safe than sorry. Carter was safe. The rest of the men were, too. Never Bass; I had always known that.
From the moment I met him, I knew he was different—unique. However, I’d rather stick with normal. Normal was predictable. Normal wouldn’t eviscerate me into a hapless person. People loved normal. So, why not join the rest of the crowd?
“Bass, a lot’s happened. I just—you can’t—why? Why now?” I shot him an accusing glare. Bass had a lot of time to come after me, but he chose not to. Even if he was telling me the truth, not much had changed.
He took a few more steps closer, almost touching my knee. Eyes so intense, body radiating a pulling power that made me want to get lost in him. “I just couldn’t hold it in any longer, Emma. It hurts to love you from a distance.”
I knew because I was feeling it, too, but that wasn’t enough anymore. “We can’t—we’re not right for each other, Bass. We don’t even out. We’re too intense with each other. Everything was too much.” My eyes sought for understanding, pleading to leave me alone. “Things have changed. This thing… the tug of war of emotions with you, I gave it all up months ago.”
Bass let out a pained groan, aimlessly walked towards the balcony and pressed the bridge of his nose as he tried to breathe.
I really wished that I was a cold-hearted bitch, then, seeing him in such an emotional state wouldn’t have made a difference for me, but dammit, it hurt to see him in pain.
Getting up, willing and yet reluctant, I reached out to him. Touching his shoulder, before he spun around—tumultuous azure clashed with determined cornflower, battling it out—until his eyes dropped on my lips, lingering.
“Don’t you… feel anything for me?” he hush-whispered, eyes still stuck on my lips.
“I feel a lot, but not the kind you’re seeking from me,” I lied. “I’ve changed, Bass.”
He gradually lifted his gaze, memorizing my face while I was dying inside. “I know. I see that you have. You’re even more beautiful since I saw you last.”
For the love of everything that’s holy, please, please stop! I wanted to scream from the top of my lungs until I was free from the ghosts of him. “You need to leave for Berlin before you get in trouble, Bass.”
When he didn’t say anything, I snapped, losing patience. “Stop staring at me!”
“I wish I knew how.” His finger reached out. Using the back of his forefinger, he brushed my cheek. “Every night, I dream of this face. The softness of your skin.” He lowered it, trailing gently down the side of my neck, tracing the swell of my breasts.
Pressing my thighs together, I tried to calm the tsunami of sensations his mere touch was creating in my body. I wanted to stop him, but what came out was a desperate whimper when I felt his nose on the base of my throat, breathing me in until he hit my earlobe. “Do you know how much I love your smell?”
No, he better not go there. It was pointless to dig out memories that were long buried.
The only things that were touching me were his nose and lips, but I felt like I was being pried open, being stripped naked so he could feast on me. I almost convulsed when his hot breath tickled my ear. “If I kiss you now, will you taste the same?” he panted out, as if exhilarated from being this close to me.
“Don’t. Please, don’t.” The thought of kissing him was mystifying because he would slowly take my guard down that way. One by one, he would bulldoze his way in. I couldn’t let that happen.
“Maybe not now, but I will very soon.” I hissed when he lightly suckled on my lobe, teasing me senseless—feeling the essence of my core seep out—rejoicing for more.
I was startled when he abruptly let me go, studying me with animalistic possessiveness combined with profound, primal intensity and his violent, perfervid love. “Try not to run too far, moro mou.”
An hour after he left, I was still panting like a wildcat in heat, petrified and excited at his dominating nature. If what he said was true, then I was going to run as far as I could.
I wasn’t going to give up without a fight.
Chapter 27
Paris
“He made me feel unhinged . . . like he could take me apart and put me back together again and again.”
- Chelsie Shakespeare
Emma
New city, new room, I silently thought as I went inside the beautiful suite that overlooked the Eiffel Tower. Instead of unpacking, I brought my laptop on the balcony and enjoyed the late afternoon sun greeting my face.
I had so many emails to go through that were left unread. Not to mention, the emails the girls and Carter wrote me since I never got the chance to call them back.
Imagine my shocking reaction when I opened the Internet browser to find Bass and Nikki together in Berlin.
So much for loving me, I fumed with feral rage. Was he a great liar now? Did I ever know who the real Bass was? Thank goodness for the common sense that I had kept me from giving in to his almost-believable speech yesterday.
With utter disgust, I slammed my laptop shut. The emails could wait, however my sanity couldn’t. Tonight, I was going to put him in his place. If he thought he could fuck with my head with stupid words, he could think again!
I was out for blood and it was Bass’s blood I wanted to draw.
Two hours later, I was getting ready for the pool party Dimitris was hosting at his family’s estate tonight when I heard a knock on my door. Getting my soft pink, silk robe that was sitting on the bed, I hastily put it on before strolling towards the marbled foyer. “Yes? Who is it?” I asked whilst yanking the door open.
Bass with a sexy, arresting smile greeted me. “Hi. I just came back. I was hoping we could talk?” The idiot used his melt-for-me-because-I’m-so-damn-hot voice and that stupid smile plastered on his face.
Did he think I was stupid? Smiling sweetly, I cleared my throat before slamming the door shut in his face. “Kindly, go fuck yourself.”
There, all done! I thought with great satisfaction as I strolled back in the bathroom and finished getting ready for the party.
I confidently wore the modest yet über-sexy, white, crocheted monokini that barely covered my bum, but certainly gave me ample cleavage. The curved cut on the sides showed a bit of my toned stomach. The back was my favorite part, bare on top but the lower half had crisscrossed crochet with cultured pearls in them.
Checking my reflection in the full-length mirror, I smiled with pleasure. I rocked this baby like I was made to wear it. “No more Bass, Emma,” I declared with hate.
E
The last time I was here with Dimitris, I never really had the chance to check out the stunning piece of property that his family owned in Paris. The garden looked like it could compete with one in Versailles, though.
The pool area was littered with women that all looked like models to me. Tall and lithe, they moved about like they were posing or strutting down a catwalk and they were undenia
bly, gorgeous chic.
And hell, the men… my eyes were busy jumping from one hottie to another.
“Emma! Already busy choosing your next conquest?” Dimitris kissed both of my cheeks before I saw Claudine was actually next to him.
“It’s fantastic to see you again, Emma. You look marvelous.” Claudine greeted me in the same fashion as her companion did.
“Thank you; you do, too, Claudine.” I smiled, thinking how different she was from Lindsey, the polar opposite of my best friend.
She was whispering something into Dimitris’s ear before she returned her attention to me. “My friends just arrived. I’m going to go and say hi. I’ll catch up with you later, Emma. I want to take you out for lunch sometime soon.” Claudine gave me a little wave before she strutted towards her friends.
“She’s amazing, D,” I said as I watched Claudine smiling and talking about.
Dimitris returned my smile as we both watched his woman. “Claudine is lovely, but I haven’t decided if she is lovely enough to be my wife.”
I remembered him talking about marriage, but I never realized that he wanted to do it this quickly. “You’re wife hunting? Like now?”
A couple that said something in Greek as they passed by, interrupted us. Dimitris shot something back at them, sharing a laugh before he glanced back at me. “I’m twenty-seven, Emma. Choosing a suitable wife takes a long time. I want to make sure the next one will be everlasting, with or without love.”
“Next one? You mean you were married before?” Duh. That’s usually what it means, my mind answered me with mockery, but I was apoplectic as I waited on him to say something.
Dimitris studied his drink, shaking his head in disbelief before he busted out laughing. His laugh was not the good kind, though. It was harsh, cold even. “Apístef̱tos!” Unbelievable. He spit out, shaking his head before he finished the entire contents of his wine. “I’m actually in the process of a divorce. So, yes, I was married before—for ninety-six hours, I fucking was.”
Ouch. “I’m sorry that you are going through a rough divorce, but is that the reason why you and Lindsey broke up… because you didn’t tell her that you were married before?”
“Lindsey…” he muttered with disdain. “Lindsey Mason Kosta should provide the answer to your question.”
“She can’t be…” I whispered, trailing off as I tried to recall everything in my head. Stalker alert. Brody. The weed. Brody again. Fuck, she was married to Dimitris while she was in love with Brody? WHAT?
“My advice to you, from a friend to a friend, is to never marry for love. Marriage is about working together. Respecting each other with a common goal; to take care of one another and your children. Only then, a stable-kind of love can grow. The passionate ones are only great for memories, nothing more.” Dimitris gave my shoulder a squeeze before striding towards Claudine and her friends.
Hell, Lindsey. What did you get into this time? I thought with concern since she wasn’t talking about any of this. She was actually going through a divorce, yet she was busy working Brody’s sheets. Did Brody even know about Dimitris? Hell.
No wonder she was keeping it hush-hush. Brody might be following her everywhere now, but the moment he found out about this, he was going to flip the fuck out.
I jumped when a voice came from behind me. “You look superb, ma chèrie.”
I spun around and found the charming Jacques Bertrand smiling down at me, scruffy and looking deadly as ever. “Jacques!!!” Excited to see him as I closed the gap and hugged the life out of him. “I’m so happy that you’re here.”
“Me, too. When Dimitris called saying you were in Paris, I just had to drop by and say hello.” Jacques kissed both of my cheeks before giving my lip a big loud one.
To me, Jacques was a friend, but that didn’t’ stop me from admiring his good looks. When it came to all three lotharios, I wasn’t immune to their rough and roguish handsomeness. It was nothing sexual, just admiring a beauty when you see one. “Still living sexy, fast, and furious?”
“I’m French, ma belle. Everything is sexy,” Jacques stated, flirty and buoyant.
I snorted at his cockiness. Amusement danced in his eyes as watched me. “Luca and Andrès say hello.”
“Tell them I said hi and always stay safe.” I spent the night with these three crazy men on the grid at three in the morning, taking turns to see who drove faster. I had never been so close to death when I was trapped in one of those racecars as the men raced us to our early graves. The adrenaline rush I got, though, was so worth it. If I could, I would do it all over again, but only with any of these drivers. If I had to chase death around, I’d rather have one of the best drivers in Europe do it for me. It was truly a night to remember.
The light banter we just shared disappeared when Jacques appeared disconcerted. “Don’t look, but I’m taking the man next to Dimitris is the ex you were talking about? The actor with the popular vampire movie?”
Maybe. “What made you ask that?”
“If looks could kill, I would be dead the second you gave me a hug.”
Bass was getting jealous? The nerve. “He shouldn’t be acting that way. He just reunited with his girlfriend last night.”
Yep, that was loaded with bitterness.
“I’m sure the girlfriend is—” Jacques tried to make excuses for the idiot, but I wasn’t going to let him.
“Nikki Pavlova,” I effortlessly supplied, knowing the Russian knockout was well known with the men.
Jacques gave a slow, appreciative whistle. “Beautiful. He has good taste, your ex. I’ve never seen any of his films, though. Give me all the Nikki’s in the world, but I’d choose you above them all. If you weren’t so in love with him, I might try to make you mine. I believe in fate, though, and I think you and I are much fated to be good friends.”
Okay, I admit, that made me feel a little better. It was petty and I was in no way competing for Bass, but it was good to hear it anyway. “What happened to that woman you were talking about before? Progress, at all?”
“Ah, you haven’t forgotten.” He shook his head, looking away. “Nothing happened with her. These things you can’t force. If it happens, then it’s splendid. If it doesn’t, then it wasn’t meant to be.”
Why leave it to fate when you can forge your own? I wanted to say, but instead I tried to understand what his words truly meant. “That’s a way to see things.”
“I’m not going to say that I don’t think of her, I do,” Jacques said with melancholy, wondering what made this woman so difficult for him to get.
“Me, too. I may hate his guts, but I do I want him to be happy. However, whenever I do think of him, I end up sad and upset. It’s been months now. I should be over it already.”
The Frenchman gave a shrug before getting me a drink from a passing waiter and handing me the French martini. “Who cares if it’s days, months, or years; does it make a difference? No, I don’t believe that. What happened to that other ex?”
Carter. “He’s there. We’re friends…” I implied, coquettishly.
“With benefits?”
I laughed as I carefully took a sip of my refreshing drink. “That we are, but I like it this way for now. I need some time on my own. No commitment or obligations. Free to do whatever I want.”
“Accompany me, greet my old friend while we make the ex jealous. I feel a little cheeky the more he sends me those deadly looks.”
Just want I needed. Thank God for the Jacques in the world. “How do we play this?” Beyond eager to comply with what he had in mind.
“I’ll lead and you simply act in awe of me.”
“Sure, let’s inflate your ego some more, why don’t we?” I teased as he loosely placed his hand behind my back, guiding me towards them.
Dimitris greeted Jacques when we got to their table. He even introduced Bass and Jacques in the same language. What caught me off guard was when Bass started speaking in French as well.
Okay, I had to get it toge
ther. I scolded myself when I was tempted to jump his bones as he sexily spoke the language I had no clue of.
Pretending not to be affected while Bass shot me murderous glares was a feat.
We were in a circular, white, lounge chair that could fit four to five people max. Jacques and I sat comfortably, with me leaning against his chest, while he played with my fingers atop the table, or seductively brushed my hair, or playfully traced the thin strap of my monokini. They were subtle and in no way over the top.
But it worked.
Bass was silently breaking before my very eyes while he blatantly stared me down, tomato red with jealousy.
Even when he was already about to pop his lid, he still tried to remain courteous because we were in Dimitris’s home and at his party. Bass wasn’t the kind to make a scene. No matter how hard he tried to appear composed, I wasn’t fooled.
When Dimitris and Jacques resorted back to English and began discussing racing and other sports, I decided to get up and excuse myself to use the powder room. Before letting me go, Jacques took hold of my hand and kissed it, eyes sparkled with naughtiness. “Don’t be too long, chèrie. I might miss you too much.”
Reaching to feel his stubble, I smiled with pure enjoyment. “Isn’t he just so amazing? My naughty Frenchman.” I bent over and gave him a sensual kiss. Not French, but somewhere in between sweet and sexy.
The main reason why I wanted to go in the powder room was to call Lindsey. The more I sat there with the guys, the more I thought about the shitstorm Lindsey was in.
I strolled indoors, towards one of the private powder rooms that weren’t open to the rest of the partygoers. Perks of being friends with the homeowner.
Taking my phone out of my purse, I let myself inside the gilded room with black granite wall and flooring. It had two, cream, Marie Antoinette chaise lounges and I immediately darted towards one.
