Unforgettable. A knife twisted in her heart. “And now it’s done…it’s over.”
Shifting a step, she had the armchair between them. He noted her movement, and his eyes turned glacial. She gripped the smooth leather to
steady her jelly-filled legs.
Mere hours ago, Nina had fluttered her eyelashes and with a satisfied smile on her face, stretched across the king-size bed to touch him. Her hand landed on the empty pillow, her eyes flew open, and fuzz filled her brain cells. She had squinted at the note propped on the bedside table lamp, and her heart plummeted to her pink-tipped toes curling on the satin sheet. His scent, cool spice and man, clung to the sheets, spiking her memory with every detail of their sizzling night.
A bleat of sound slipped from her mouth, exploded in a groan, and even the New York traffic far below couldn’t smother the hopelessness of it.
An image of their village abode flashed through her mind, and the groan morphed into a wistful sigh. It’d been rough, he’d been demanding and bossy, and sparks had flown—but oddly enough, she’d been happy in a simple, uncomplicated way.
She snatched the note, and his impersonal words scrawled in black ink, smacked her face.
‘Returning late. Chauffeur at your disposal.’ C.S.
A shiver ran through her, and her teeth chattered. She drew the sheet closer about her and huddled beneath. He hadn’t even signed the thing.
In the lull of her thoughts, her heart thumped her ribs. One, two,
three…she chided herself at her idiocy. What did she expect? A declaration of love? An epiphany after one night with her? She laughed, and the sound turned to a whimper.
She might be married to him, but she was no wife to him, not even for one night. A one time mistress would be more like it. She turned up her
nose and sniffed. A mistress might fare better than she had under his controlling dictates. She pressed her eyelashes closed, determined not to cry, but her lip quivered. She wanted to scream, to release her anger at him and at her own foolishness.
A tear oozed beneath her lashes, slid down her cheek and settled on the corner of her mouth. She flicked it away with her tongue, the saltiness stinging the bleakness inside her. She hiccupped and hugged his pillow. Another tear welled up and spilled over, then another.
Finally, she sucked in mouthfuls of oxygen and knew what she had to do. Must do. For her sanity, for her father, for her business in Florence, before everything she’d worked for bit the dust. She managed to drag herself from the bed and to the shower.
She dressed in a classic Chanel suit and stilettos to boost her confidence. After applying a touch of mascara and lipstick, she swept her
hair up in a chignon, clipped gold hoops in her ears and packed her few belongings. She flirted with the idea of skipping out while he was at work but that’d be cowardly. For her dignity and peace of mind, she had to see him. Confront him one more time.
“Paid in full.” She enunciated each word, hoping that hearing them again would convince her.
A silent beat.
“You’ve paid a portion,” he said, his tone unflinching.
Startled, she gaped at him. “What?”
Cade tried to crush the erotic kick in his male counterparts, but it didn’t work. He wanted her…more nights with her…a lifetime of sensual delight. Their passion blasted all records—his chest expanded, his blood heated—images of her with him, under him,…skyrocketing…flashed through his psyche.
“A night is what we agreed on.” He shoved his hands in his jeans’ pockets, and drew closer.
She inched backward but the edge of his desk stopped her.
Good.
“A night—half of a twenty-four cycle—twelve hours.” He cleared his throat. “A technicality” –he shrugged— “but since we got a late start” –his eyes bore into her, into her soul to extract something, anything that’d give him the edge— “our midnight madness lasted say two hours—”
She averted her
Shifting a step, she had the armchair between them. He noted her movement, and his eyes turned glacial. She gripped the smooth leather to
steady her jelly-filled legs.
Mere hours ago, Nina had fluttered her eyelashes and with a satisfied smile on her face, stretched across the king-size bed to touch him. Her hand landed on the empty pillow, her eyes flew open, and fuzz filled her brain cells. She had squinted at the note propped on the bedside table lamp, and her heart plummeted to her pink-tipped toes curling on the satin sheet. His scent, cool spice and man, clung to the sheets, spiking her memory with every detail of their sizzling night.
A bleat of sound slipped from her mouth, exploded in a groan, and even the New York traffic far below couldn’t smother the hopelessness of it.
An image of their village abode flashed through her mind, and the groan morphed into a wistful sigh. It’d been rough, he’d been demanding and bossy, and sparks had flown—but oddly enough, she’d been happy in a simple, uncomplicated way.
She snatched the note, and his impersonal words scrawled in black ink, smacked her face.
‘Returning late. Chauffeur at your disposal.’ C.S.
A shiver ran through her, and her teeth chattered. She drew the sheet closer about her and huddled beneath. He hadn’t even signed the thing.
In the lull of her thoughts, her heart thumped her ribs. One, two,
three…she chided herself at her idiocy. What did she expect? A declaration of love? An epiphany after one night with her? She laughed, and the sound turned to a whimper.
She might be married to him, but she was no wife to him, not even for one night. A one time mistress would be more like it. She turned up her
nose and sniffed. A mistress might fare better than she had under his controlling dictates. She pressed her eyelashes closed, determined not to cry, but her lip quivered. She wanted to scream, to release her anger at him and at her own foolishness.
A tear oozed beneath her lashes, slid down her cheek and settled on the corner of her mouth. She flicked it away with her tongue, the saltiness stinging the bleakness inside her. She hiccupped and hugged his pillow. Another tear welled up and spilled over, then another.
Finally, she sucked in mouthfuls of oxygen and knew what she had to do. Must do. For her sanity, for her father, for her business in Florence, before everything she’d worked for bit the dust. She managed to drag herself from the bed and to the shower.
She dressed in a classic Chanel suit and stilettos to boost her confidence. After applying a touch of mascara and lipstick, she swept her
hair up in a chignon, clipped gold hoops in her ears and packed her few belongings. She flirted with the idea of skipping out while he was at work but that’d be cowardly. For her dignity and peace of mind, she had to see him. Confront him one more time.
“Paid in full.” She enunciated each word, hoping that hearing them again would convince her.
A silent beat.
“You’ve paid a portion,” he said, his tone unflinching.
Startled, she gaped at him. “What?”
Cade tried to crush the erotic kick in his male counterparts, but it didn’t work. He wanted her…more nights with her…a lifetime of sensual delight. Their passion blasted all records—his chest expanded, his blood heated—images of her with him, under him,…skyrocketing…flashed through his psyche.
“A night is what we agreed on.” He shoved his hands in his jeans’ pockets, and drew closer.
She inched backward but the edge of his desk stopped her.
Good.
“A night—half of a twenty-four cycle—twelve hours.” He cleared his throat. “A technicality” –he shrugged— “but since we got a late start” –his eyes bore into her, into her soul to extract something, anything that’d give him the edge— “our midnight madness lasted say two hours—”
She averted her
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