“Again with the rules?”
His forehead wrinkled. “Do you have a problem with following rules?”
“As long as they’re plainly stated, I suppose not.” Truthfully, I was too good at it. That was one of the things Chelsea has tried over the years to rectify. Live, be spontaneous, she’d say. “Take college for example…” I tried to steer the conversation away from the obvious.
We talked about my major. At first I told him it was quantum physics. After all, he’d said I was well-spoken. However, it didn’t take long before I admitted the truth. I’d majored in English with a dual minor in business and political science.
“Those future plans don’t include law school, do they?”
“Nox, I-I…”
“Yes, Charli, seeing as I still don’t know your last name, I’m going to assume that discovering life means some questions are off-limits. I can follow rules too, but I prefer to make them.”
I smiled. “Do you have a last name?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“Touché.”
With our meals as done as they were to be, Nox lifted up a new bottle of wine. “Shall we toast to a week of first names?”
I offered my glass. “I’d like that.”
His brow twitched. “I’ll add to that, a week of finding out what else you like and the boundaries to your limits.”
I almost choked on my wine as he added that final statement, but it was too late. As the crisp liquid flowed, I drank to his exploration of my limits.
“Are you up for going back outside? The view is why I stay here.”
I shifted to stand. The lighting within the suite was much brighter than what we’d had on the patio. With his drink in his right hand, he offered me his left, and I saw it—my limit.
Suddenly the handsome, powerful man in front of me was no better than every other man, no better than Alton Fitzgerald and all of his business trips.
My neck straightened. “I’ve changed my mind.”
“What?” Nox asked, visibly surprised.
I pulled my eyes from his left hand. “I forgot. I promised Chelsea that I’d be back to our room tonight. This week is about us. It really isn’t fair of me to leave her alone.”
“I saw your sister. I doubt she’s alone.”
Though Nox tried again for my hand, I pulled it away, busy with removing his jacket from my shoulders. Shoving what undoubtedly was a very expensive suit coat his direction, I reached for my handbag.
“Goodbye, Nox. It was nice to meet you. I’m sorry, but I do know my limits and I’ve already, albeit unknowingly, broken a hard one.” I hurried toward the elevator. “Please don’t attempt to contact me.”
As the elevator doors opened, I turned to see not only Nox’s puzzled expression but also Mrs. Witt’s. With my lips pressed together in disgust, not only at them, but also at myself, I stepped into the elevator and waited for the door to shut. When it did, I exhaled and tried to comprehend how either of them would assume that I’d be comfortable with this circumstance.
I didn’t care how good looking or charismatic Mr. Nox—no last name—was. I didn’t see married men. The tan line on his fourth finger was too prominent to be anything but recent.
“MISS CHARLI?” FREDRICK asked with concern in his voice as I rushed from the private hallway. “Is everything all right?”
All right? No!
I took a deep breath. If I couldn’t stop whatever game Nox was playing from getting to me, I sure as hell could stop from showing it to others. Pausing only briefly, I replied, “Thank you, Fredrick. I’m not feeling well.”
“May I help you? Do you need assistance getting to your room?”
“No, I just need to lie down.”
“Really, Miss Charli, I don’t mind. I’m sure your host wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”
My host. I wasn’t born yesterday. Maybe I was being paranoid, but I believed as soon as Fredrick escorted me to my room, he’d report my room number directly to Nox.
“No, thank you.” I began to walk away. “That won’t be necessary. I’m sure your resort is safe enough for a woman to walk unescorted.”
“Yes,” he admitted coming out from behind his stand. “It is. However, if you need anything…” He handed me a card. “…you can call me direct.”
I took his card and dropped it in my purse. “I’ll be sure to do that. Good night, Fredrick.”
I hurried away and toward the guest elevators. As I waited for the elevator, my chin dropped to my chest, and I tried to stop the memories of our evening from replaying in my head.
Anger, shame, disgust—all of it swirled like a cyclone.
I was not only furious with him but also disappointed in myself. Then again, I tried to reason, we hadn’t done anything, not really. We’d talked and eaten dinner. Yes, I’d had some wine, but there was no touching. Well, he’d kissed my hand and helped me into the suite, but nothing overtly intimate.
It was still wrong.
I did my best to ignore the other resort guests passing by me. It didn’t matter what I told myself, how I tried to justify it, I was appalled with Nox and with myself. I lifted my unseeing eyes and faced the truth; this was exactly what I deserved for going on a mystery date. I may never have made my prospective dates fill out a ten-page résumé, as Chelsea had joked, but at least I knew their names and marital status before I agreed to go out with them.
I could justify my situation as all Nox’s fault, but if I did, it made me the victim. I wasn’t a victim. I refused to be one. I’d been there and done that. Alex Collins was not a victim. I’d made the decision to meet Nox for dinner, me and no one else. He wasn’t to blame for my decision.
When the doors of the elevator finally opened, a happy couple stepped from the elevator. If I hadn’t noticed the way they looked at me, I wouldn’t have even realized I wore a scowl.
Stupid, naïve people.
Happiness in another person wasn’t real. All people did was betray one another: if not on the first date, then eventually. Look at Alton and Adelaide. They were supposed to be my example of love, of a healthy relationship. Hell no! They were dysfunctional on more levels than I cared to admit. Alex Collins was better off without someone. Just because continuing the Montague bloodline had been pounded into my being, since I was old enough to understand, didn’t mean that I intended to do it. There was nothing Nox or any other man could do for me that I couldn’t do for myself. This was the twenty-first century. I didn’t even need a man, if and when I wanted to continue that bloodline. That’s what sperm banks were for.
Riding up to our floor, my neck straightened with determination. I’m Alex Collins and I have a future and plans.
Shit!
I stepped from the elevator onto the multicolored carpet. Each slap of my shoes more determined than the last. The last thing a future hotshot attorney needed was an affair scandal in her closet of skeletons. How dare he lure me in? So what if he had a sexy voice and even sexier eyes. Who cared if he had a body like a Greek god? Not me. None of it mattered because that pale line on the fourth finger of his left hand told me all I needed to know.
Nox was a filthy cheater. Just like Alton and just like seventy percent of the married men out there. Well, I shrugged, as I dug in my handbag for the key to my suite, I actually made up that statistic. It was probably higher. Once I was out of this damn dress, I would Google that shit. Maybe civil law wouldn’t be so boring. If there were that many cheating assholes out there, I could have a rosy future as a divorce attorney.
My lips snaked upward into a smile. This night had just been a learning experience, something to point me in the right direction. Tapping my keycard on the lock, I opened the door to our dark suite and stood silently for a moment, suddenly concerned I was walking in on something, or more precisely, Chelsea and someone. Instead, I was greeted by more silence.
The curtains were open. Without turning on the lights, I made my way to the balcony and opened the glass door
. The mild air fluttered the hem of my dress, and I wrapped my arms around my waist remembering the softness of Nox’s jacket as it blocked the chill. In the darkness the rush of the surf created a low rumble. Our view might not be as spectacular as the one from the presidential suite, but it was nice. As I kicked off Chelsea’s high heels, I suppressed the emotions that threatened to bubble to the surface. Nox wasn’t worth my anger or my tears. I wouldn’t give him any more of either.
By the time room service finally answered my call, I had my silver necklace and earrings lying in a pile on the desk. “Hello, this is Al—this is Charli Moore. I’d like to order a glass—no a bottle—of your house red.” I didn’t wait for him to figure the total. “Charge it to my room and if you have it here in less than ten minutes, I’ll double your tip.”
Hanging up the phone, I pulled the blue dress over my head. I had wine coming and I planned to enjoy it. Some rotten cheater wasn’t going to ruin my second night of vacation. No, I was going to make a night of it. Before sitting alone on the balcony and listening to the ocean, I would soak in a nice, warm bubble bath.
“I can do this,” I said aloud to no one. “I don’t need Nox.” I worked to remove the bobby pins from my hair. “I don’t even need Chelsea.” I raked my fingers through the red-brown waves. “Pretty soon I’ll be living alone in New York.” I nodded to myself in the mirror. “And I’m nearly twenty-four years old. It’s about time I get used to spending some time alone.”
Realizing that I was carrying on an audible conversation with myself, I stepped from the bathroom and took another look around the suite. It was one thing to talk aloud to myself. It was another to have anyone hear me. Maybe I’d get a cat when I moved to New York. Then talking aloud wouldn’t be considered crazy.
I read the different bottles of bubbles, oils, and salts while warm water filled the tub. As I tried to decide which one to use, which fragrance I’d choose to replace the lingering memory of Nox’s cologne, I washed the makeup from my face. It was ridiculous that I was so nervous about our dinner. He didn’t deserve the time I’d spent in his suite or the time I spent getting ready for it.
With each passing second my indignation grew.
I turned off the running water in the tub as a knock echoed throughout the suite. Wrapping the white satin Del Mar robe around my body, I walked barefoot toward the door. In a few minutes I’d have wine and a nice bath filled with bubbles. Who needed anything more?
Looking through the peephole, I saw the customary navy jacket on the young man through the lens. His face was slightly distorted with the dome of the glass, but I could see him plain enough. Had it been less than ten minutes? I wasn’t sure. Hell, I’d go ahead and double his tip. He’d made it before my tub got cold. Besides the way this week was working out, I would probably become very acquainted with the room service staff. It was best to keep myself in their good graces.
I opened the door, but before the waiter could speak, my eyes went to the man standing off to the side, the one with the pale blue eyes I wanted to forget. Regret and sorrow morphed into hunger as Nox scanned my new attire. Although the robe was long, nearly to the floor, the rich satin did little to hide my body’s reaction to his gaze.
I crossed my arms over my traitorous nipples. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”
“May I come in?” The low thunder rumbled my insides.
“No,” I answered too quickly, suddenly conscious of my lack of clothing beneath the robe. Even the loss of the high heels put me at a marked disadvantage. The man with the ravenous stare towered over me, taller than only an hour before.
“Miss Moore?” the young man in the navy jacket asked. “Would you like me to bring your wine into your suite?”
“I hope you don’t mind,” Nox said. “I may have changed your order—a little.”
“Yes,” I said louder than I intended. “I do mind.” Turning toward the waiter I mellowed my tone. “Please go back to the kitchen. Bring me the house red and if you can manage to return alone, I’ll triple your tip.”
Still wearing the suit from our dinner, minus the jacket I’d thrown at him, Nox grinned as he pulled a money clip from the front pocket of his gray trousers. Without speaking, he peeled back a few bills. I tried not to look, but saw that each one was a hundred.
“Here you go,” he said, offering the cash to the waiter. “The lady will be fine with the wine you currently have on your cart. Take it into her suite.”
I pressed my lips together and moved aside to allow the waiter entrance.
As he moved the small linen-covered cart, he smiled bashfully. “Miss Moore, would you like me to open the bottle of Screaming Eagle Cabernet Sauvignon?” His smile grew as he proclaimed, “It’s our finest wine.”
“It’s from Napa Valley,” Nox whispered, leaning close to my ear, sending warm breaths over my neck.
“Yes, sir,” the waiter replied. “We only serve California wines at Del Mar.”
I shook my head. “No, thank you, just leave the opener and I can take care of it.”
“Yes, miss. Thank you. If you need anything else…”
“That’ll be all,” Nox answered. “We’ll call if we do.”
The waiter nodded and disappeared down the hallway. Reaching for the door, I cocked my head to the side. “You’re rather confident for a man who’s still standing in the hallway.”
“I am.” His blue eyes shone with newfound determination. “However, you’re right about my location, very astute of you. I’d much prefer to be in there.” He nodded toward me.
Thankfully, there wasn’t anyone else in the hall. “Nox, I don’t see married men.”
“Mrs. Witt was right. Would you allow me to explain, inside your room?”
I swallowed as he inched closer, his eyes never leaving mine as the intoxicating, woodsy scent filled my senses. I tried to stay focused. “No. That won’t be necessary. It’s very simple.”
“Charli, it isn’t as simple as you think. I don’t usually ask the same question twice, but for you, I’ll make an exception. May I come in and explain?”
He took another step my direction. If I remained still, we’d be close enough to touch. Unwilling to allow the contact, I took a step back. “Fine,” I snapped, waving my arm in a grand gesture, “make it quick. Apparently I have some expensive wine to drink.”
“The best California red Del Mar has to offer,” he said with a smirk as he entered.
I didn’t move farther into the suite or invite him to sit. Instead, I tugged on the lapels of my robe and said, “You have thirty seconds. Explain.”
Nox’s neck straightened as his shoulders broadened before me and the seams of his shirt pulled against the strain. His head moved slowly from side to side as he searched for the right words. “I also don’t take orders well, but once again, I’ll make an exception.”
“Then you must be a great employee. I’m surprised your bosses allow you to stay in such expensive suites.”
“My bosses?”
“You said you run businesses. They must belong to someone.”
“Yes, you’re right. They do.”
I waved my hand in the air. “You know what? I don’t care. I don’t care if you take orders. I don’t care if you repeat yourself, and I don’t care whom you work for. Your time is almost up.”
“I’m not married.”
My jaw tightened. “I don’t see married men and I detest liars.”
He took another step towards me. “Charli Moore, I also don’t explain myself… to anyone. I want you to listen and listen closely.” He seized my shoulders. Before I could protest he continued, “I’m not married. I was. I won’t elaborate any more than that. You’re right that I took the ring off recently. I took it off for you—for our dinner. I didn’t take it off because I’m cheating on someone. I took it off so that you wouldn’t get the wrong impression.”
With my face tilted toward his, I stared at his mouth and listened to his words. When he paused, I said, ??
?I-I don’t understand.”
The lips I’d been watching forcibly captured mine, pulling me upward, closer to his mouth, his chest, and to him. Nox reached for the back of my neck, his fingers lacing through my long hair, holding me captive as his other arm wrapped around my waist. My hands flew to his chest as a moan escaped my lips and fire surged through me. The electricity of his earlier touch was but a spark to the wildfire that was growing inside of me. If I fought his actions, I couldn’t remember.
Beneath the palms of my hands, I felt the erratic beat of his heart. He felt the same attraction that I did. The magnetic pull was too hard to resist. Finally, I pushed against his chest, needing air and space. “Nox…”
“I’m no longer married. I swear.”
I stared up at his handsome face, and sucking my bruised lips between my teeth, I searched for any sign of deceit. I barely knew this man, yet, the way my body melted against his, I wanted to know him. I wanted to believe him.
When I didn’t respond, he asked, “Do you believe me?”
“I want to,” I answered honestly.
He caressed my cheek, the softness of his touch a stark contrast to the fervency of his kiss. “I had no idea what happened—why you left. You were there with me, and then you were gone.”
I shook my head, trying to recall his words. “You said ‘Mrs. Witt was right.’ What did you mean by that?”
“She said that something upset you and asked me what I’d done.”
“I thought you didn’t answer to people?”
“Mrs. Witt isn’t people. She’s also not my boss.”
I smiled. “I didn’t think she was, but she is someone?”
“She is.”
“But you won’t tell me?” I asked. When he didn’t answer, I tried another question. “How did you find me?”
He tugged my hand and pulled me toward the sofa. As we sat, he said, “You mentioned your sister’s name was Chelsea and that your reservation was under her name.”
His recollection of my dishonesty reminded me that I didn’t deserve to know any more about him. “Nox, we said one week, with no commitment. If you swear that you’re not married, if I can trust that, then I don’t need to know any more.”