Nolan takes my hand and leads me towards the bathroom. There’s soft flickering light making shadows on the walls, and when we enter, the sight takes my breath away.
“You did this?”
“Do you like it?”
I love it. The entire room is filled with candles. And there’s a balcony on the far end, also filled with candles. This is what I saw from outside on the helipad.
“I made that pilot come in here and set it all up before he met us out in back. He was pretty pissed about it.”
“Are we taking a bath?”
Nolan walks over to the tub and checks the water. It’s still steaming. There are pink rose petals floating on top of the water and scattered in between are small ivy leaves.
“God, you really are romantic.”
“Well, I have more plans for this than meets the eye.” He drops his pants and takes off his thoroughly wrinkled dress shirt, throwing it on the ground.
I can’t stop my grin, so I step forward and dip a toe into the water. “It’s hot!” But it feels wonderful after all we did tonight. I step all the way in and the memory of the cold pool water disappears into the thick steam. “Are you coming in?” I ask.
Nolan nods, then gets in behind me and sits down, hissing from the heat. “Sit, Ivy. This is where I make it all better.”
I sit and lean back. His strong hands massage my shoulders as I relax and let the heat overtake me. My body is exhausted, but in a very good way. Nolan leans back and I lean with him. He hikes my leg over his, spreading my legs open so he can reach down and begin to stroke me softly. He doesn’t enter me. I’m glad, too. Just strokes lightly so that the familiar throbbing is back between my legs.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “But I can’t let this go to waste.”
“What—Ahhh!”
The hot wax is dripping down my breast. It makes it to the tip of my nipple, then merges with the water and hardens.
“It’s your turn, Ivy. Just relax and enjoy it.”
I close my eyes and let him do whatever he wants. Which, it turns out, is everything I want too. The wax is hot and erotic. His fingers are gentle and perfect. I come three times in the tub. One as he plays with the candles. Once when he sits me on the ledge of the tub and licks my pussy like he’s starving. And once when I suck him off and swallow everything he has to offer.
Later, when we’re clean and tired in all the right ways, aching in all the right places, and relaxed enough to start thinking of sleep, he leads me out of this room and takes me through this maze of a house and into another one.
Fresh sheets on the bed, fresh candles ready to be lit, pink rose petals scattered all over the floor, and the softest silk lingerie.
That seals the deal for me.
I watch him fall asleep, my body tugged up tight against his, like he’s afraid I’ll walk out in the middle of the night.
I’m in love. I might not be the most experienced woman, but I know what I’ll be missing if Mr. Romantic ever gets away.
Everything.
I’ll be missing everything.
Chapter Forty-One - Nolan
The helicopter jolts me from sleep and I’m up and looking for pants before the sound fades. Mysterious. Fuck, I think, searching the other room for my clothes. I forgot all about him.
I pull the pants up and forget the shirt, just hop down the steps to the back of the house. By the time I get to the family room, Pax is coming through the massive double glass doors.
“Thanks for picking up, you asshole,” Pax says. “I thought you were dead or something. I should’ve figured you were getting your dick sucked.”
“Hey.” I point at him. “Ivy is here, so shut the fuck up. And I left my phone in my pants.” Which I fish out right now to prove my point. Pax has called fifteen times, no voicemail.
“Yeah, well, about Ivy,” Pax says. “This is some fucked-up shit and I’m sorry I have to be the one to break it to you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Everything, man. Your sister—”
“What? What’s Claudette have to do with anything?”
Pax ignores me, just walks over to the bar, reaches under the counter, pulls out a tumbler, then finds the most expensive bottle of Scotch on the top shelf and pours himself at least four fingers. He gulps a healthy dose and then says, “Ahh. I really fucking like working out of this house. You rich assholes have everything here.”
“What? You’ve never even been here before.” But as soon as the words come out of my mouth, I know I’m wrong.
“I do business out of here all the time, dumbass.”
“This is not your house, Mysterious. Where do you get off doing business here?”
“Hey,” Pax says with a shrug. “What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is mine. That goes for all the other Mister Assholes who dragged me down with them ten years ago. Just think of it as my way of getting even.”
“I didn’t drag you into anything.”
“The hell you didn’t. I know that bitch blew you that night. I saw it. I see everything, Nolan,” he says, tapping his head with his glass. “So fuck off. Your family never uses this house anyway.”
“That’s not the fucking point, Pax. You don’t just use other people’s shit.”
“When your name is Paxton Vance you do. Now, do you want to hear the total fucking shitstorm I just dug up about your sister? Or do you want me to slap down a Benjamin to pay for the drink and swim back to the mainland?”
Somehow when Pax says it, swimming from Martha’s Vineyard to the mainland doesn’t sound ridiculous. I have no doubt in my mind that if I told him to leave, he’d jump off the fucking dock and disappear. Not die, mind you. Just disappear. I have a feeling the Atlantic Ocean couldn’t kill Paxton Vance even if it was trying.
“Just get on with it,” I say, waving my hand in a rolling motion.
“Well…” he starts, then gulps the rest of his drink and slams the glass down on the bar as he breathes out the burn. “Your sister is psycho. Your girlfriend is her target. And I hate to be the one to tell you this, even though I think you’re a total dick. But your dad is dying.”
I just stare at him. “What?”