Pinching his brow and laughing at himself, he realised he’d been going about this in completely the wrong way. Was this what love did to people? Sent them into another level of thinking that made them change into someone else? She’d found her balance with him the way he was and he’d taught her to believe in herself. She wouldn’t want a begging fool. She’d want the Alex White she knew and hopefully still loved.
Pulling her bracelet out of his pocket, he rubbed his thumb backwards and forwards on it and watched the road weaving its way towards her apartment with a new sense of hope. Perhaps if he simply told her the truth and then swept her off her beautiful feet again, he’d have her home within a few hours.
“Shall I wait, Sir?” Andrews asked as he opened the door.
“I think that’s probably wise,” he replied with a chuckle. “God knows what’s going to greet me in there.”
“Yes, Sir, but I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Andrews said with a wink. Alex looked back at him and smiled. The man was a rock. He didn’t deserve him, either. He couldn’t even make up his mind if he was comfortable with the “Sir” thing anymore, given what had passed between them regarding fatherly intent. Something had shifted a little somehow. He shook his head and kept walking. He’d think about that shit another time because his focus was only on her at the moment.
He made his way across the foyer of the building, pressed the button on the lift and watched the numbers as they counted backwards. He felt his foot tapping again and instantly stopped it. Fucking ridiculous, White. Stop it!
The ride up in the lift went by in seconds, giving him no more time to think about it and he stood before the door, trying to calm himself for whatever he was about to receive. Lifting his hand, he knocked with purpose and waited. He did not get the response he was hoping for.
“Mmm... The great Alexander fucking arsehole White, how very depressing,” Belle drawled as she blocked the doorway from him. Shit, he hadn’t thought of this scenario. He’d been sure she’d be out on a Friday night.
“Belle, can I see Elizabeth?” he replied curtly. There was little point in pleasantries with her. She wasn’t impressed. He got it. Neither was he.
“I assume you’re joking because last I heard, you were the complete bastard who didn’t deserve one second of her time,” was her response as she took a step forward and made him move backwards a little. He frowned and put his hands in his pockets.
“I’m not leaving, Belle. I need to see her. I was wrong,” he said slowly, trying to keep his temper in check and show the woman some respect. She was, after all, completely correct in her description, no matter how much he hated being spoken to in such a way.
“Yes you were, you fucking pig. How dare you? To her, of all people. She’s nothing but kind and loving and for some unknown fucking reason, she was completely devoted to you,” she seethed as she held his eyes fiercely. He immediately understood Conner’s infatuation with her and smirked at the thought.
“Belle, if you would just let me in, I-”
She cut him off. He smiled and relaxed his stance. He’d let her have her minute or two for the time being. She probably deserved it.
“I’m not finished yet, you dick. You will listen to what a complete fuck up you are. I can’t believe you have the balls to stand there and smile at me. Are you trying to charm your way past me? It won’t fucking work, arsehole. I am immune to your bullshit. It’s actually quite revolting, but please do enlighten me with why the hell I should even begin to let you at her again,” she said with venom as she narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms at him. It actually made him flinch a little and made him consider whether Elizabeth’s temper was as strong as her sister’s.
“Because I love her,” he said aloud for the first time. It made him smile, regardless of the situation, so he said it again. “I love her, Belle, and you’re right. I’ve been a complete dick, but you have to give me the chance to talk to her. You know I’ll get around you if I want to anyway,” he replied. Her eyes widened just a little. Clearly the love comment had stirred some emotion in her so he continued with his smile. Immune or not, he could see her caving in.
“You’re a fucking arsehole, White, and I hate you,” she responded as she glared but thankfully took a small step backwards.
“I appreciate that and understand why, but can I see her?” he asked as he moved forward.
“Fuck off,” she sneered again. Clearly she wasn’t caving very quickly.
“Belle, I just need to see her for a minute. If she doesn’t want me here then I’ll leave.”
She stared, quite maliciously for a woman. He was impressed, still fucking irritated, but impressed nonetheless.
“You can’t, not tonight,” she eventually said, her eyebrow quirking with something that amused her.
“Why?” he asked, suddenly feeling very suspicious of her changed demeanour and attitude.
“She’s out this evening,” she replied smugly as she folded her arms and snickered.
“Where? Who with?” he asked as realisation started to dawn that she was possibly out with another man. His hackles instantly raised their very ugly heads with a vengeance.
“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” She smirked, and that was fucking annoying. His anger bubbled to the surface instantly as he felt his mouth tighten. Sister or not, she was becoming tiresome.
“Belle, you will not stand in my way any longer. She deserves to know. I have allowed you your moment, now tell me where she damn well is.” He sneered as he stepped forward and used his increasing size to force her back into the hallway. To her credit, she hardly stepped backward at all, just stared at him with her face full of contempt again.
“How long will you manage this time before you fuck it up... again?” she asked as she turned back into the apartment. He could feel the loathing pouring off her and tried to calm down a little.
“I won’t, not this time,” he said quietly as he followed her. She picked up her wine glass and looked over the rim at him. It made him chuckle. Conner did the same thing when he was irritated. “You know you’re a lot like him? It’s easy to see how you two work so well together.”
She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Were you with him in LA when he got papped with women dripping all over him and bruising on his face? Do you think he considered the implications to me or my business while he was having a good old time fucking his way around the states?” she replied with distaste. Alex frowned. He hadn’t thought of the effect on Scott’s. Conner clearly had when he tried to argue the point.
“He’s a good man, Belle, and he loves you. Now please, where is she?” She stared again. Her fucking eyes were almost as bad as her sister’s at ripping him in half, but they simply didn’t have the same grace. They were harder somehow, broken maybe, a view he knew very well. Eventually, she sighed and lowered her glass.
“She’s with Pascal, at his club,” she replied with irritated resignation.
“WHAT?” he yelled at her. “Fucking hell... No!” he shouted again as he turned and stormed from the apartment. He hit the button on the lift so hard it shook. Grabbing at his pockets, he found his phone and fumbled through the numbers for hers and pressed call. “Pick up, pick up…” Voicemail greeted him. He smacked at the lift again angrily.
“Alex, what’s the matter?” Belle asked behind him nervously. She’d obviously picked up on his instant worried tension and thankfully not assumed it was just a jealous rage.
“Call her, Belle. Now! Tell her to leave,” he shouted at her as he scanned back through his numbers to find Pascal’s. He’d fucking kill him if he laid one finger on her. He watched as Belle looked shocked and then bolted inside to get her phone. She arrived back, shaking her head and signalling voicemail. The lift doors opened. “Keep trying her. Leave messages, anything to get her away from him. He’s not whom she thinks he is,” he said as he got in the lift. She pressed her hand against the door as it began to close.
“What are you telling me, Al
ex? Do I need to be really worried here?” she asked, her voice panicky and shaky, those eyes softening a little. He realised what she meant and tried to quiet himself a little to ease her mind.
“No, I’ll be there before then,” was all he could find in his brain to help her. He wasn’t sure if he would be but there was no point worrying her with no reason. “Call me if you get hold of her,” he continued as he brushed her hand off the door and watched it close.
He found himself pacing furiously before the doors opened again, and he ran to the car like a man possessed. He couldn’t let Pascal even think he had time to play with her. Christ knew what the man would come up with.
“Eden,” he shouted at Andrews as he got to the car. Recognizing the apprehension in his voice, Andrews leapt into action and floored the car out into the traffic. He swiftly grabbed at the bottle of scotch and drank some. The instant the alcohol hit his throat, he threw the bottle as hard as he could straight across the car at the window. Fury welled up inside him at the thought of Pascal’s hands anywhere near her as he gazed at the liquid pouring across the carpet with disgust. Not only did she belong to him - and the bastard should have known better than to try without asking permission - but she wasn’t anywhere near ready for the sort of debauchery that man would be considering for his amusement. Regardless of the current situation, Pascal shouldn’t have even thought about touching her, and as he grabbed at the other bottle, he balled up his fist in frustration and slammed it against the console. This was his own fucking fault. If he hadn’t been such a complete arse, none of this would be happening.
Abruptly, he looked up. What time was it? Pascal never started his real entertainment until eleven at the earliest and he would be making this evening pull out as long as he could. He would want her all night. He would savour everything about her carefully, methodically and let his mind wander as he watched her move and calculated her reactions to the things around her. Looking at his watch, he let out a breath. It was a little after ten so she would probably only be drinking at the moment. He knew Pascal so well that he could almost plan the evening out in his mind. He relaxed back a bit and tried to cool himself off. She’d be okay for now. He looked out of the window to see where they were and it was still too far away for his liking. Traffic was slowing them considerably and he cursed the Friday night frivolities that were happening all around him.
Grabbing at his phone, he hovered his finger over the call icon. What was she doing with Pascal? It was the first time the thought had popped into his head and he frowned. After two weeks she’d decided to go out with another man? Yes, he’d treated her appallingly but what had made her get straight back out there, and with Pascal of all people?
He knew she would have reacted badly to his behaviour, but he’d expected her to crumble into a mess and sink into a hole of depression, not pull herself together and catapult into the hands of the devil, or at least a version of the devil. Perhaps she wasn’t as breakable as he thought she was. Had she found an inner strength that he was unaware of or had she always been tougher than he’d assumed? He realised that he didn’t know her nearly as well as he thought he did and that made him more nervous than he was earlier. Did she want Pascal to show her more of their world or had she gone there thinking it would simply be a good distraction? Surely she knew what she was doing. She must want what he could offer her or she wouldn’t have gone to him, would she? Although she most definitely didn’t know what Pascal was capable of doing to her if the mood took him, and it probably would. She was everything he liked to destroy.
Suddenly unsure of what to say to Pascal other than ‘I’ll fucking kill you if,’ he put the phone back into his pocket and decided to wait and see the reaction on her face for himself. Christ, she might even tell him to leave and carry on her night with the shit. That definitely wasn’t going to happen. Regardless of how she felt, he wasn’t going to allow Pascal one touch of her beautiful body. She was his and until they had talked, she wasn’t going anywhere without him.
Twenty long minutes later, the car pulled up to the nondescript black door, the symbol of Pascal’s dragon firmly imprinted into the gold disc beside the name. He licked his lips and wondered how this was going to pan out as he waited for Andrews to open the door. One thing was for sure; his temper was still bubbling away inside and he couldn’t decide whether to send it away or use it in full force. He’d wait and see how he felt when he saw them together. He needed to gauge her reaction to him so he could decide how to proceed.
“Wait here,” he said to Andrews as he walked to the door, unclenching his fists and trying to regain his impassive appearance. The door was opened for him by the nameless bouncer who must have known who he was, so he walked down the elegant green staircase to the security suite. Three short knocks later the door was opened by Hayley, Pascal’s PA. He walked straight past her and sat at one of the monitors.
“Hayley, where is Pascal?” he asked sharply without looking at her as he tapped away at the keyboard, switching screens so he could search for him. He couldn’t see him anywhere.
“Mr. White, I can’t let you-”
He cut her off. “You’ll let me do anything I damn well please or I’ll inform Pascal of the skimming you’ve been doing for the past three years. I’ll also tell him about your affair with his brother and the information you gave him regarding his balance sheet,” he said as he tried to gain the access codes for Pascal’s private suites, although why Pascal would be in his own apartment with her was completely unknown. “What’s the code for Pascal’s apartment?” She looked at him in shock.
“Please, Sir, I can’t give you that. And I didn’t give anything to Fabrice.”
He lifted himself so quickly she didn’t have a chance to step away and stumbled backwards into the wall at his scowl.
“You’re a fucking liar and I don’t have time for your shit. Tell me the code now and you might have a hope at saving your job,” he sneered as he inched closer and grabbed her arm. She cowered and began to shake at his force.
“Haven216,” she responded quietly as she looked at the floor. He sat again and watched as the screen came to life.
“Lock the door and sit in that chair,” he said as he studied the two of them sitting at the dining table drinking wine. “And put your phone on the table. I wouldn’t want you getting any fucking stupid ideas.”
Oh Christ, she looked amazing. Although the image of her in Pascal’s dining room was completely unacceptable, he couldn’t help but watch her as she crossed her long legs in another indecently short dress. The flash of thigh sent his pulse racing instantly as he let his eyes drift across the rest of her and blew out a long breath. The deep red dress clung to every curve on her and accentuated her pale skin tone magnificently. Her slender arms were bare apart from gold wrist cuffs that matched the gold heavy chains around her neck. He’d never seen her look so bloody appealing and found himself moving to adjust his rapidly agreeing cock. Her luscious red locks tumbled down her back effortlessly as wave after wave gently encased her cheekbones and hid some of her face from him but as he watched her incredible mouth move he fell deeply in love all over again. She was perfect and he was damned if he’d let her go, especially not to Pascal.
He, of course, was being his normal arrogant self as he sat there in what appeared to be a black Gucci suit. Unfortunately, looking as impeccable as ever in his more modern guise, for a near forty year-old man, he looked bloody good. He was casually studying her. Actually he was fucking leering, but to the outsider he would have appeared completely ambivalent about the woman in front of him. He most definitely wasn’t. Behind his facade were a multitude of sins presently being concocted. He could see the glint of arousal from the way the man tapped his cheekbone thoughtfully and widened those penetrating green eyes as she moved her hair. Too many years had been spent learning from the man for Alex to not be able to read his every single movement. Each small inclination of hand or mouth was a signal of his next focus or his impending explosi
on of aggression.
She abruptly stopped talking and looked at the door. Alex noticed her barely-there movements and watched the way her face frowned briefly as if she was aware of something. She rubbed her arms and licked her lips quietly, almost as if she could sense him close and it confused her. He smiled at the image of her doing the same thing every time she knew he was near her but couldn’t see him. He’d often gazed at her minutes before he pounced and the thought made him chuckle as he realised thankfully that she still loved him, or at least she could feel him.
Pascal’s gaze didn’t waver as he smiled across at her movements and picked up his phone. He said something to her and glanced up at the camera, his eyebrow raised mischievously. She resumed her conversation but kept her arms around her tightly as if she were suddenly uncomfortable with the air around her. Pascal chuckled and typed something into his phone. Alex’s own phone vibrated seconds later and he couldn’t help the smirk that shot across his face. He plucked it out of his pocket and swiped.
- How much longer do I have to play before you come in and get her, dear boy?
He quickly replied. How the hell Pascal knew he was here was still utterly perplexing, even after all these years. The man always seemed to know somehow, but the fact that he did know meant that nothing more would happen between them.
- Not long, and if you keep looking at her like that, I’ll kill you.
He continued to watch as Pascal received the message and erupted into fits of laughter. The man seemed far too jovial for his liking, and the thought crossed his mind that maybe Pascal was actually being loyal in his own delusional way. He clearly hadn’t touched her. Regardless of how fascinating he found her, he hadn’t done anything inappropriate up to this point and frankly that was unusual in its own right. The very fact that they were having dinner in his apartment was out of the ordinary. He couldn’t remember a time that Pascal had ever taken a woman into his home. Had he been so ready to condemn Pascal that he hadn’t thought about him being decent in the slightest?
Feeling White Page 7
