respect for me and that it was quite natural that he behaved like this...
When all arguments failed me, I decided to take a shower in the luxurious bathroom ... at least if I didn't have a clear mind, I'd be clean and relaxed. I washed myself, going over the same areas of my body that Sacha had explored earlier in the day ... These memories made me shiver, although some places were still a little sore. How could it be possible that just a few hours earlier, the union of our two bodies had transported us to an unprecedented ecstasy? Could he just up and leave me now without having any feelings for me? So many questions and no answers ... And if I just left? If I went back to Paris, right now? No, I couldn't leave. Not like this. Not now. Not without an explanation. I decided that I would give myself a bit of time, at least until the next day, to make a decision. I was tired, troubled and unable to think calmly. After all, perhaps he had a good reason to leave without telling me. Maybe he was moping alone in his hotel room? And what if I called him? Um ... no. Bad idea. I didn't want him to think that he had me under his thumb...
I quickly dried myself and decided I should do some work. After all, I had a new job (in theory) and I was putting a big step in my career on the line. I didn't want to lose it over a love story... however intense and complicated it might be.
I took a diet Coke from the mini bar (all expenses paid for by him) and settled in the lounge with my laptop propped on my knees. I began by looking at the latest studies on the economic health of the Asian market and its most promising sectors ... but it wasn't long before I typed, almost absentmindedly, Sacha's name into the search engine.
His career, his charity work, his company ... I didn't think I would find so many documents mentioning his name. Then I clicked on "Images".
I shouldn't have.
There was not a single picture of him alone. The tabloids had had a great time documenting his multiple conquests. Always accompanied by a brunette, blonde, or chestnut ... he was obviously not very fussy! No redheads, though. I could boast that I was the first! Each one more beautiful than the last... He had been seen and photographed with all these women. A lump rose in my throat. Did he hide them in a luxury suite? Involuntary tears sprung up in my eyes. I scrolled down the page ... Natalia appeared on several photos. I couldn't help making a face. A stunning blonde appeared quite often as well. I clicked for more information. She was the daughter of a wealthy oil tycoon. A Texan.
“Has Sacha Goodman finally found the rare pearl?”
The tabloid insisted that the two lovebirds looked very much in love! I returned to the photos ... and clicked on a new photo of Sacha with the blonde. She was beautiful and he was radiant. Not at all like the aloof and cold Sacha as he sometimes seemed to me. The article didn't specifically refer to them. It was just a photo caption, a photo taken at a charity gala:
"Sacha Goodman and his fiancée, Allison Green, daughter of Bob Green".
His fiancée? What was this all about? He's engaged? Married perhaps? Was the loft a kind of bachelor pad?
Without asking any more questions or trying to understand, I firmly closed the screen of my laptop.
Enough. I had had enough. I would not allow him to hurt me anymore.
At the same moment, my phone vibrated, then rang.
"Sacha"
flashed on the screen.
I was so livid that I grabbed the phone and threw it against the wall of the suite. It shattered and ended up on the ground, silent. It would never ring again.
I fell onto my bed and fell asleep sobbing, exhausted by so many emotions.
The shrill ringing woke me. I opened one eye. It was daylight. Still half asleep, I answered without thinking, breathing a sleepy "hello" into the handset that was on the bedside table.
"Dammit, Liz! Why aren't you answering your mobile phone? It's on voice mail. I called dozens of times! I want to be able reach
When all arguments failed me, I decided to take a shower in the luxurious bathroom ... at least if I didn't have a clear mind, I'd be clean and relaxed. I washed myself, going over the same areas of my body that Sacha had explored earlier in the day ... These memories made me shiver, although some places were still a little sore. How could it be possible that just a few hours earlier, the union of our two bodies had transported us to an unprecedented ecstasy? Could he just up and leave me now without having any feelings for me? So many questions and no answers ... And if I just left? If I went back to Paris, right now? No, I couldn't leave. Not like this. Not now. Not without an explanation. I decided that I would give myself a bit of time, at least until the next day, to make a decision. I was tired, troubled and unable to think calmly. After all, perhaps he had a good reason to leave without telling me. Maybe he was moping alone in his hotel room? And what if I called him? Um ... no. Bad idea. I didn't want him to think that he had me under his thumb...
I quickly dried myself and decided I should do some work. After all, I had a new job (in theory) and I was putting a big step in my career on the line. I didn't want to lose it over a love story... however intense and complicated it might be.
I took a diet Coke from the mini bar (all expenses paid for by him) and settled in the lounge with my laptop propped on my knees. I began by looking at the latest studies on the economic health of the Asian market and its most promising sectors ... but it wasn't long before I typed, almost absentmindedly, Sacha's name into the search engine.
His career, his charity work, his company ... I didn't think I would find so many documents mentioning his name. Then I clicked on "Images".
I shouldn't have.
There was not a single picture of him alone. The tabloids had had a great time documenting his multiple conquests. Always accompanied by a brunette, blonde, or chestnut ... he was obviously not very fussy! No redheads, though. I could boast that I was the first! Each one more beautiful than the last... He had been seen and photographed with all these women. A lump rose in my throat. Did he hide them in a luxury suite? Involuntary tears sprung up in my eyes. I scrolled down the page ... Natalia appeared on several photos. I couldn't help making a face. A stunning blonde appeared quite often as well. I clicked for more information. She was the daughter of a wealthy oil tycoon. A Texan.
“Has Sacha Goodman finally found the rare pearl?”
The tabloid insisted that the two lovebirds looked very much in love! I returned to the photos ... and clicked on a new photo of Sacha with the blonde. She was beautiful and he was radiant. Not at all like the aloof and cold Sacha as he sometimes seemed to me. The article didn't specifically refer to them. It was just a photo caption, a photo taken at a charity gala:
"Sacha Goodman and his fiancée, Allison Green, daughter of Bob Green".
His fiancée? What was this all about? He's engaged? Married perhaps? Was the loft a kind of bachelor pad?
Without asking any more questions or trying to understand, I firmly closed the screen of my laptop.
Enough. I had had enough. I would not allow him to hurt me anymore.
At the same moment, my phone vibrated, then rang.
"Sacha"
flashed on the screen.
I was so livid that I grabbed the phone and threw it against the wall of the suite. It shattered and ended up on the ground, silent. It would never ring again.
I fell onto my bed and fell asleep sobbing, exhausted by so many emotions.
The shrill ringing woke me. I opened one eye. It was daylight. Still half asleep, I answered without thinking, breathing a sleepy "hello" into the handset that was on the bedside table.
"Dammit, Liz! Why aren't you answering your mobile phone? It's on voice mail. I called dozens of times! I want to be able reach
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