Кендалл Райан – Filthy Beautiful Love (страница 4)
I’m glad our siblings are picking up the slack when it comes to making conversation, because Colton and I remain completely silent. Small talk doesn’t seem to fit my mood and I’d have no idea what to say regardless. They chatter away without a care in the world while Colton and I exchange serious looks.
‘So how long are you guys here?’ Becca asks.
‘Depends,’ Pace says.
‘On?’ I challenge. As far as I’m concerned, Colton has made his point, showing up here in some masculine display to claim his property. He can piss off now, thank you very much.
Colton’s sad eyes slide over to mine. ‘I want a chance,’ he says, his voice dark.
A chance to explain, or a chance with me? I’m thankful for the large wraparound sunglasses that shield my eyes from his.
‘Isn’t that what she gave you all those weeks in LA?’ Becca asks, coming to my rescue.
Colton watches the interaction happening between me and Becca, no doubt wondering what I’ve told her about my time in Los Angeles. I hope he knows me well enough to know I’d never divulge our secret.
‘I fucked up. It was wrong not to tell you…’ Colton’s voice is thick with emotion, unlike I’ve ever heard him before.
‘Stella is a mega-beast who…’ Pace starts.
Colton holds up one hand, silencing his brother. ‘No, Pace. This is my mess. I will fix it.’
I have no idea why, but the sudden urge to ease his pain and anguish flares up inside me. ‘I’m here aren’t I?’ I say, meeting Colton’s eyes. Of course, I’m not brave enough to remove the cover of my sunglasses, but still.
His sad look dissipates ever so slightly.
An hour later, we’re on our second bottle of wine before the waitress even thinks to bring the lunch menu. I realize that Colton’s suggestion of grabbing a
‘Let’s order some lunch, shall we?’ Pace, asks, handing me a menu printed entirely in Italian.
Our food is finally delivered, and while we eat Becca opens up about her treatment. I can’t help but notice Colton leans forward on his elbows to absorb every word. He knows the hefty price tag for the treatment was made possible by his generous winning bid. And maybe it’s the charitable side to him, but I can see in his reverent expression that something inside of him feels proud to have helped.
When Becca probes Colton about his work, he makes some offhand remark about investment banking and then launches into a detailed discussion about his charity foundation. They’re close to fulfilling their mission in Africa. The new school he’s built will have their grand opening soon.
Becca is in awe listening to him – clearly he’s a great catch who just got even better in her eyes.
‘Sophie’s work is missed. She was a big help those weeks spent getting Kylie caught up.’ He reaches for my hand and I move it under the table.
Though the conversation buzzes around me, I can barely keep up. My head is filled with questions about Colton’s marriage to a woman he admittedly doesn’t love. Why did he marry her? Where has she been while I’ve been sleeping in their bed? My entire relationship with him now feels tainted.
Despite our precarious start to things, I’d started to believe that he’d been brought into my life for a reason. Sent to me like a guardian angel to heal Becca and awaken me sexually. I’d spent two months living with him, growing close, falling for him.
I wonder now more than ever about why he never slept with me. Was it because he didn’t want to be unfaithful to his wife?
‘Sophie?’ Colton’s voice cuts through the one in my head. ‘More wine?’
I shake my head. ‘I’d rather just get going back to the hotel.’
He checks his watch and frowns. ‘Okay. That should be all right.’
We finish our lunch of insalata, warm bread, white wine and several bottles of sparkling water. After Colton pays for the meal, Pace and Becca rise from the table, looking slightly tipsy and eager to set off on their exploration.
Colton and I walk side by side in silence all the way back to the hotel. But there are so many new sights, sounds and smells to take in, that I hardly notice the stiff uncomfortable silence that’s settled between us. Just navigating the uneven cobblestone streets in my strappy sandals takes extra concentration.
When we reach the hotel, Colt opens the door and ushers me through, his warm palm once again settling against my spine and leaving a rush of tingles in its wake.
A young man dressed in a hotel uniform stops us in the lobby.
‘A new key for you, Miss.’ His Italian accent caresses the words, making them sound much sexier than they are.
‘I have a key.’ I hold it up.
‘Yes, but for your new suite. Floor seventeen.’ He folds the key card in my hand while simultaneously removing the old one.
I recall Colton stopping to talk in hushed voices with the concierge before we left the hotel. Is this his doing?
He raises an eyebrow and shrugs. ‘I just wanted you to be comfortable.’
I bite my tongue to avoid pointing out that I’d been more comfortable before he appeared and started interfering, but deep down inside, I know he’s just trying to be nice, as annoying as it might be. He can’t win me back with thoughtful gestures and sweet remarks. Call me crazy, but I have a rule about dating man who are married: I don’t.
‘You shouldn’t have,’ I bite out and turn for the elevator, punching the button repeatedly with my thumb. I notice Colton waiting beside me and I give him a pointed stare. ‘I guess you can wait in the lobby for Becca and Pace’s sightseeing date to end.’
‘You promised me we could talk,’ he says, his tone making clear his displeasure.
Yes, but that was before the wine and the possessive stares he treated me to all during lunch. I don’t trust myself alone in a room with him right now. ‘I don’t think being alone in a hotel room with a married man is proper.’
He releases a low growl of frustration just as the elevator doors open and drags me inside.
Warning bells are going off inside my head. I’m about to be alone with a man who still holds power over my heart despite his unavailable relationship status.
Pinning Sophie to the wall of the elevator, my hands clench into fists above her head. It’s taking every ounce of self-control I have not to push my hips into hers and claim her mouth. I know I’ve lost the right, but my body refuses to understand that.
I can see her pulse thrumming in her neck as I bend down near her ear. ‘Don’t push me right now. My emotions are all over the fucking place – something very new for me, I can assure you.’
She shoves both hands against my chest, pushing me back several paces. ‘Oh,
‘You ran out on me before I had the chance to explain. You wouldn’t answer my calls and now I’ve flown six thousand miles just to set the record straight with you.’ I take a deep breath and straighten my posture. Arguing with her won’t get me anywhere. Of course she has a right to be mad. ‘Listen, Soph. I needed to see you. I’m coming upstairs to talk to you.’
After an intense standoff her gaze falls to the floor as she realizes further negotiation will be pointless. ‘What floor am I on?’
‘Top floor,’ I answer. The best suite they have. Obviously.
Realizing we’re just standing in the stationary elevator that hasn’t yet moved from the ground level, she gingerly reaches out and presses the button. My mouth lifts up in a smile.
Per my instructions, Sophie and Becca’s luggage has been moved into the suite. There’s a moderately sized living room, two separate bedrooms, each with its own washroom and a tiny balcony overlooking the courtyard fountain. She takes a minute to navigate the rooms, lightly running her fingers along a gilded antique credenza and bending at the waist to smell the fresh arrangement of white blossoms on the coffee table.
I take every second I can to just drink her in. Even though it’s only been three days since I’ve seen her, held her in my arms, slept with her warm body next to me, it feels like much longer. The privilege to touch her has been ripped away, and my body riots in silent agony, my heart aching and my fists clenching uselessly at my sides.
We need to talk like civilized adults, but fuck if I know how to start.
‘Soph…’ I begin.
‘Colt…’ She says at the same time.
We share an awkward smile.
‘Come sit down.’ I gesture to the sofa – neutral territory and she obeys, slipping off her sandals and curling her legs underneath her as she sinks into the cushion farthest away from me.
‘Ask me anything you want to know. No more secrets,’ I promise.
Bouncing one knee up and down, she twists the ring on her thumb. ‘How long have you been married?’