Dad is doing great. They have discovered his ailment, a rare blood disease that was killing his immune system and affecting his body’s ability to heal. There is a treatment, and he is in the first round of the new medication. Just this morning I reserved an apartment for him on the ground floor of my building. It seems a little premature, and I worry about jinxing his progress, but I want to be ready when he is released. This apartment will allow him to be independent, yet still close to me. Pam has already set me up with an at-home nurse, one who can help him once he leaves Crestridge.
Today is a quiet day. Dad has slept most of the morning, and I have read. It’s lasagna day in the cafeteria, and I am watching the clock for 11:30 a.m., which is the earliest time I can get a plate.
I end the call and return to his room, settling into the recliner, my coffee set on the table, my legs curling underneath me. I close my eyes. Just a quick nap, long enough to tide me the twenty-two minutes until lasagna time.
I drive, taking the long way home, through the hills, rolling down the windows so that the smell of fall and foliage fills my car. Then I slow, turning into my complex, coming to a sudden and sharp stop when I see the black Range Rover parked in front of my apartment, and the man that is leaning against its hood.
I stare at him through the windshield, watching as he straightens, looking at me, our eyes catching over fifty feet of broken blacktop. My foot wavers on the brake, my brain arguing with my heart, arguing with my instinct, my foot caught in a tug-of-war between the two. I put it out of its misery and put the car into park, opening the door and getting out in the middle of the lot.
He is so handsome it should be a sin. Standing tall, his hair messy, a loosened tie gaping over a white shirt and dark dress pants, his tan skin pulls the entire look together too effortlessly. His stature and manner reek of the casual perfection brought on by decades of wealth and breeding. He moves away from the car, stepping toward me, and I hold up a shaky hand. “Stop.”
I cannot take him any closer. Cannot have those lips coming into focus, not now that I know what they can do to me. Tearing down my walls and invading my heart, they will leave me gasping, tearful, and alone, while he returns to her. “What are you doing here, Nathan?”
He shoves his hands into his pockets, and stops, tilting his head. “I need to speak to you.” His voice grumbles, a gravelly, deep sound that makes me wet and has me clenching my hands into fists to keep from reaching out for him.
“Why?”
He steps forward, closer, his eyes on mine, everything else disappearing as he closes the gap and draws me in. I inhale sharply, his scent reaching me, my willpower eroding with every inch that I lose as he steps nearer. I am too weak. I cannot take another touch, another breath of him. I will break.
“I left her,” he says, stopping before me, his gentle hand grabbing my chin before it drops and pulling it back up, his blue eyes seducing me with their initial contact.
I frown, trying to make sense of his words. “Cecile? Why?”
“I didn’t want to do to her what I did to you.”
I narrow my eyes, stepping back, my elbow catching the side mirror of the car, causing a sharp spike of pain. “What? Fuck her and then send her to her room?”
He winces, his blue eyes clouding. “No. Be with her when I am in love with someone else.” He steps closer, his hands pushing my waist until I am against the car, my body responding, curving when he leans forward, pinning me with his body, the heat of his muscles hard against my frame.
I can’t breathe, the weight of his words too heavy against my chest. What I want to believe is too risky—I cannot take my heart down that path if I am wrong. It is too cruel, too much for its fragile existence to take. “What do you mean?” I whisper.
“I love you, Candy. I love you with every fiber of my being, every beat of my heart. I can’t stay away from you. I can’t live without seeing your smile or hearing your voice.”
I shake my head, pushing against his chest. “Bullshit, Nathan. You were consumed with her. She was the love of your life!”
“No.” he whispers, staring at my face. “No. I wanted the unattainable because it was unattainable. I remembered all of the good and forgot the bad. When we were apart, those four years I spent searching for her … we both changed during that time, became different people. The woman I thought I loved … that isn’t her. And if that is, then maybe now I just realize there is something better out there.” He swallows, the movement making his jaw clench, something akin to vulnerability in his eyes. “You.”
I shake my head before he even finishes, trying to clear the cobwebs and find rational thought somewhere inside. I cannot fall for this; I cannot accept his smooth words and romantic notions. I am not the desperate stripper who he met that night. I do not suck dick for money or need a knight in shining armor. I deserve someone who wants to be with me, not someone who wants what they can’t have.
“You said you wanted the unattainable because it was unattainable. I am now that unattainable property, and you just want—”
He kisses me, crushing my moving lips with his own, his hands fisting into my hair, his leg working in between mine, the full length of his body hard against my own. His hands pull my mouth tight to his, not asking, but taking my soul, his tongue claiming me, tasting my resistance as his mouth feasts on me. He speaks between frantic kisses. “I need you … to breathe. It’s more … so much more than I ever had with her.” Somewhere, a car honks, the wind picks up my hair and blows it into the air, and I lose my resolve, softening against his body, my hands crawling up his back and clawing at his shirt. I yield easily when he lifts me, sets me on the warm hood, his head dipping down and planting frantic kisses on my neck, my chest, up the line of my jaw, his hands gripping my ass and pulling me to the edge, until his hard body is flush against me.
The time without him has been so long, my body craving him in a way that is almost painful, and I gasp when he presses against me, my body so sensitive and yearning for fulfillment. “Take me inside,” I pant. “Now.”
CHAPTER 58
He takes my key fob, promising to park the car, and I fly up the exterior staircase, fumbling with my keys until the door is unlocked, and I am inside, my jacket flying off, tennis shoes and jeans being yanked off as I move. My mind is frantically trying to slow my body, throwing words of reason at me as I move, but my lust has taken over. I need him inside of me now, and will deal with the aftermath later.
My shirt is halfway over my head when I hear the door bang open, steps moving across tile, and then his hands are helping me. My head is suddenly free, and his mouth on mine.