Betrayed by the CEO

by Clare Connelly

  He had known loss before.

  His mother.

  His sister.

  And every grief was a different burden to be carried, nurtured and honoured. But what he’d lost in Chloe was so much worse, because it was all completely his fault.

  He had betrayed her trust. The trust he’d begged her to give him. The trust he’d promised, again and again, that he deserved.

  He thought of William’s face, at the moment of supposed triumph. And he felt nothing. Not a successful flush of vengeance, nor a heady rush of relief.

  And now?

  A month later? He felt only shame and despair, that he’d allowed himself to hurt her. That he’d been so utterly cruel.

  He stared at the view of Manhattan, and felt the same burning pain in his gut. He didn’t know if it was heartbreak or hunger. He hadn’t been very good at keeping up the usual day to day business of life since leaving Chloe. It was late now, and he wasn’t sure he’d eaten breakfast, lunch or dinner.

  He sipped his scotch. How many had he had?

  His phone buzzed on the table, and he ignored it. His laptop was open, and the contracts he was reading were demanding his attention. But still, he stared at the view, looking south, thinking of Chloe.

  True to his word, he’d stayed away from her. Even when he’d wanted to have his driver take him to her apartment, to see what she was doing, to see if she still felt such a red-hot sense of betrayal, he’d stayed strong. Because she needed and deserved that of him.

  The phone buzzed again, reminding him that a text message was waiting for him.

  He put his coffee aside and reached for the phone. It’s Chloe. You told me to contact you if I ever needed something. And I do.

  For the first time in a month, his heart did more than groan. It thumped hard and fast in his chest, then quickened. He stared at the screen, almost unable to believe that she had messaged him.

  It was the chance he’d longed for. The cracking open of a door. His fingers moved swiftly over the screen. Name it. Anything.

  There was a long pause. Long enough for Hendrix to wonder if he’d scared her off. After all, it could have been something as simple as a legal query or financial help. He almost groaned with impatience when she didn’t answer.

  Can I meet you at your office tomorrow morning?

  He frowned and looked at his watch. It was past midnight. Yes. What time?

  Another long delay. First thing.

  He put the phone down with a small groan. He was desperate to see her, and the several intervening hours were not things he looked upon kindly.

  By the time dawn cracked over the city, he’d grabbed a few fitful hours of sleep on the sofa, and that was all. But he was alive and energized for the first time since walking away from Chloe. He dressed in a charcoal grey suit, and then went to his office.

  To wait.

  Impatiently.

  It was a few minutes before nine o’clock when Maria buzzed through to him. “Miss Chloe Jacobs is here to see you, sir.”

  Jacobs. His chest heaved. She was no longer Mrs. Chloe Ansell-Johns.

  He stood, his expression set, his face guarded as he waited for the axe to fall, or the sun to shine.

  She stepped into his office, and she was magnificent. Everything ceased to move as he saw only Chloe. Her sweet face, her rose bud lips, her enormous eyes, her petite frame in a black trench coat and tight black jeans. Leather boots came to her knees, and her bag was tucked beneath one arm.

  Only the fact that she was nervous allowed him to move.

  He stepped out from behind his desk, doing everything in his power to stop from running towards her.

  His smile was polite, but withdrawn, and Chloe wondered if he’d already met someone else. Her worst fear had been the ease with which he would replace her. And she knew he must have, surely.

  She held her hands firmly before her, refusing to show her anxiety to this man.

  “Hendrix,” she said on a sigh, her eyes unable to move from his face. “Thank you for seeing me.”

  “Of course.” He held his hand out, and Chloe could only stare at it. She realized, belatedly, that he was asking for her coat. She un-cinched it at the waist and handed it to him. She wore a simple grey cashmere sweater beneath.

  He concentrated on not staring, and not drooling. He placed the coat on the hook behind his office door and turned to face her, trying with all his might to appear professional and friendly, rather than devoted and lecherous. “Can I get you something? Coffee? Tea? Breakfast?”

  She shook her head. Her eyes were enormous in her face.

  “How’s Ellie?” He asked, indicating with remarkable calm that she should take a seat in one of the chairs in his office. She walked gracefully across the room and sat, cross-legged. He poured himself a coffee then settled opposite her.

  “She’s fine. Talking non stop these days,” Chloe smiled proudly.

  “And you?” His eyes were devouring her face, greedily soaking in every detail.

  She nodded jerkily; a response he couldn’t quite fathom.

  “I see you’ve gone back to your maiden name.”

  A smile ghosted across her face. “Yes. Ellie, too.”

  How had he ever allowed himself to go through with his plan? The insanity of grief had been profound; but that was no excuse.

  As they stared at each other, the gulf of what they felt moved between them. The silence was charged with an electricity of need, want, hurt and confusion. And hope. At least, from Hendrix’s part. He was trying – desperately – to keep a grip on it. But how could he not have hope?

  Here she was. Chloe. The reality of his dreams, sitting across from him.

  “What can I do for you?” He prompted, careful to keep his voice neutral.

  She toyed with her fingers in her lap. Her laugh was unsteady. “Straight to it, huh?” She couldn’t quite meet his eyes.

  The suspense was eating through his stomach lining. “Another divorce?” He joked. “Legal advice?”

  She shook her head. “No. Neither.”

  He settled back in his seat. Though he took care to appear completely at ease, he was anything but. He knew he had to let her speak, in her own time.

  “I’ve been thinking about you,” she said finally, the words dragged from her body as though she were stumbling over hot coals. She dropped her gaze to her lap again.

  “Have you?” His murmur was encouraging.

  “And your sister,” she said quietly. She closed her eyes and breathed in resolutely. “The thing is, I was so very angry at you that day. I didn’t get the answers I needed. And I can’t go to William. So I wondered …”

  He saw her gulp, and her pain made his heart hurt. “You want me to tell you what I know about them?”

  She nodded. “Did your sister know about me?” Her eyes were blue ice chips in her face.

  He ran a hand over his beard. He’d given up shaving weeks ago, and black hair covered his square jaw. “You mean, did she knowingly enter into a relationship with a guy who was married?” He frowned. “I’ve asked myself the same thing. I can’t be certain. If she did, she never told me. And Eleanor wasn’t someone who would play second fiddle. So I’m forced to conclude that she was as much in the dark as you.”

  Chloe exhaled slowly. “I’m so glad. I didn’t like the thought of her doing that to me.” Her expression clouded over. “I came to like your sister. Before. When we were… before that day.” Her cheeks coloured with a hint of pink. “You talk about her with such an easy affection, and the fact she shared Ellie’s name … I didn’t want to think …”

  “Is that why you’re here?” The disappointment was sharp, but he consoled himself instantly. Because she was still there, in his office.

  “No.” She frowned, and crossed her legs the other way. “Did you feel better?”

  “Better?” He queried, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his thighs.

  “After you had thrown our relationship at William. Did you
feel better?”

  He dragged a hand ruefully through his hair. “I’ve never felt worse, actually.”

  She nodded, and looked away. Her profile was set as she stared determinedly at one of his bookshelves. “Why?”

  “You know why,” he said quietly.

  “I need you to tell me.”

  He cursed inwardly. “I’d committed to a path of action that was all wrong. But I’d committed to it. And I didn’t realise I could back out. So I did it. I did it even when I could see how I was hurting you. And there was no satisfaction. There was no feeling of victory. It was a hollow moment.”

  She bit down on her lip. “Would you do it again?”

  “Tell William about us?” He moved to kneel before her, needing her to look at him. To connect with him and understand the truth of what he was saying. “No. I would never make that mistake again.”

  She was on a tightrope. One misstep and she would fall.

  “Baby, I love you as much now as I ever did. No, that’s a lie. I love you so much more. This month without you has shown me how absolutely empty my life is without you in it. I have been barely existing without you and Ellie. I have stayed away because you asked me to, but now that I’ve seen you again, I don’t know if I can do it any longer.”

  Her eyes flew to his, and then skidded away just as quickly. She stood uneasily and walked across to the window. She looked out, her arms crossed.

  Hendrix stood, and followed her. He could handle the suspense no longer. “Why did you come here?”

  Why indeed? To throw herself under a bus? To toss caution to the wind and see what happened?

  “The thing is,” she spoke without looking at him. “I know I was right to end things between us. I still don’t know if I can forgive you for what you did. But I’ve had time to think about grief. And the anger you have carried since your sister died. And I don’t know if it’s as black and white as I believed then.”

  Hope! Oh, the hope! It was both glorious and an agony. Because still, nothing was certain. He said nothing. Nothing that might derail her gentle musings.

  “In any event, I just needed to see you.” Her lips were a weak imitation of a smile.

  “Chloe,” he groaned, wrapping her in his arms and holding her tight. She smelled so good. Like vanilla and sugar. He crushed her against him, running his hands through her hair. “Please don’t disappear yet.”

  She wasn’t disappearing. She was holding him tight. “I’m not. Not yet.” She looked up at him, and then stepped backwards. “I came here today to ask you to dinner.”

  “Dinner?” He scanned her face, not sure what was going on. “Tonight?”

  She nodded.

  “Yes.” His smile was enormous. “Yes, of course. Yes.”

  She let out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. “Okay, good. I’m probably being stupid, but I’ve been thinking about what I want to do, and even though it makes no sense, this is all I could think of. Seeing you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Her voice was shy and so quiet he had to lean forward to hear her. “I’m still so angry with you, but I’ve missed you like a lost limb.” She straightened her spine. “I can’t think about forgiving you. Or the future. I just know that I want to give myself one night with you. One night to pretend none of that happened. I know it’s cheating, but I need it.”

  It was not perfect, but it was something. “But why now?” He couldn’t help asking. “It’s been a very long month. What’s happened?”

  She pulled a face. “Don’t laugh.”

  “Never,” he swore, his eyes heavy on her face.

  “It’s my birthday. And you’re my present. From me to me.”

  Hendrix let the words sink in for precisely twelve seconds. Then, without taking his eyes off her face, picked his phone up. “Cancel my day,” he barked at Maria, disconnecting before she could respond. He had a vague recollection of an important meeting that afternoon. But nothing was more important than this.

  “Then let’s go.”

  “Go?”

  His smile was dazzling. “The way I see it, you’ve given me twenty four hours to show you that I’m worth another chance. And I’m not going to waste a second.”

  * * *

  He played guitar like an angel. Chloe sat on the floor of his penthouse, feeling pleasantly relaxed. Despite the strangeness of their day, it hadn’t felt strange. It had felt wonderful.

  “Stairway to Heaven is sort of a guitarist’s right of passage,” he said, slipping the guitar over his head and coming to sit cross legged in front of her.

  “You play it well.”

  He shrugged. “My father was a brilliant musician. He taught me.”

  “Was?”

  Hendrix’s face clouded momentarily. “He gave up after Eleanor died. Losing our mother hit him hard enough. Eleanor was the final straw.”

  Chloe didn’t shy away from the topic, despite the way her own life was now bound into the story. “He stopped playing?”

  “Yes.” He had hidden too much from her. “He stopped doing anything other than drinking an enormous quantity of Pinot Noir.”

  “Really?” She felt a spike in sympathy. “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “It would appear his ability to cope with grief was better than mine.”

  “Perhaps,” she conceded. Their knees were almost touching. She felt a surge of awareness at his proximity. “He named you after Jimi Hendrix?”

  “Yes. And Eleanor is for Eleanor Rigby. My father always said it was the best song every written.”

  “I love that song,” Chloe smiled. “I thought that, when William suggested we use the name.”

  “Parallels everywhere,” Hendrix murmured.

  They stared at one another, searching for understanding. Hendrix spoke first. “I love you, Chloe.”

  Her heart turned over in her chest. She nodded, finally. “I know.”

  “And I hate that I hurt you the way I did.”

  She nodded again. Her voice was a little unsteady, but she had so many emotions zipping through her that it was hardly a surprise. “I know that too.”

  “I want you back. I need you back. And I’m not going to stop until I have you back.”

  She leaned forward, brushing her nose lightly to his. “I know.”

  “You know?” He asked, pulling away so that he could see her eyes.

  She fidgeted with her fingers. “You said you just wanted me to leave the door open a crack. That you wanted to prove that you deserved me. So prove it.” She jutted her chin at a defiant angle. “Show me that you will never hurt me again. Show me that you will worship Ellie, and make her safe, and love me forever. Show me that I can trust you again. Show me that … show me that you love me.”

  Hendrix was soaring higher than the angels. He could have screamed with pleasure. But he only smiled, a small hint of promise in the curve of his lips. “For the rest of my life.”

  And there was such searing intensity in his look that she just knew. Life was never straight forward, but some decisions had to be made on emotion.

  “I’ve been so miserable,” she confided with a sigh. “I think I made the right choice. The smart choice. I have to be sensible, because of Ellie. But I’ve spent a whole month waking up and literally counting down the minutes until I could get back into bed. I came to realise that I had cut my nose off to spite my face.” She shook her head. “And Ellie’s missing you. And if you’re missing us, too, then none of it makes any sense.”

  He moved to his knees, and pulled her to him. “I have missed you like the stars would miss the moon. I have ached for you. I have seen your ghost with every blink of my eyes. There has never been a love like I feel for you. Please let me make you understand that.” He kissed her nose. “Please let me love you with all that I am. Please let me show you how wrong I was, and how sorry I am. I ache for you, my beautiful Chloe.”

  “I know,” she said teasingly, but she was breathless.

 
; “Well then, where shall we go to celebrate your birthday dinner? You name the place, and I’ll make it happen.”

  She blinked up at him, shy suddenly. “I was thinking your bed. Does that suit?”

  Without another word, he scooped down and lifted her, holding her to his chest. She was the most perfect creature in the world, and he was not going to waste his second chance.

  EPILOGUE

  Three years later.

  “And so you finally married me,” Hendrix grinned with a dramatic sigh, taking up a spot on the bench beside her. The warm summer breeze rustled passed, lifting Chloe’s hair.

  “And so we finally got married,” she agreed, her smile taking over her features. The sun seemed to burst from her soul. Her happiness was a force of its own.

  “It only took me three years to get you down the aisle.”

  “Three wonderful years,” she retorted, snuggling her head onto his shoulder.

  “I won’t disagree with you there.” He put an arm around her shoulders, holding her tight. “When I met you, Ellie was little more than a baby. And now she’s in school.”

  “Mmmm,” Chloe pulled a face. “She’s five going on fifteen. Did you notice she refused to wear the flower girl dress we picked out?”

  He laughed softly. “I thought the Bob the Builder overalls were perfect, actually.”

  “They just didn’t quite match the Tinkerbell wings,” she said with an exaggerated sigh.

  “You have raised a beautiful little wildling. A perfect individual. And she looked almost as radiantly beautiful as you today.”

  Chloe smiled up at him. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr Forrester. And you have had more than a small bit to do with how she’s growing up.” She stroked his cheek lovingly. “I can’t remember a time in my life when you weren’t here.”

  “Me neither. I missed the first two birthdays of Ellie’s life, but I’m not going to miss another.”

  “How did I get so lucky?” Chloe teased, her head on Hendrix’s shoulder.

  “By being the most deserving, and wonderful woman in the world. You remember that poster you told me about?”