“You were rather lost in the photo,” he grinned. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs.”
He lugged the suitcases to the main staircase. I followed him, strolling down a long landing before stopping at the last door.
“Did you ever get lost in this place when you were a kid?”
“Not really.” He pushed the door open. “After you.”
I walked in, struck by the massive floor to ceiling windows that dominated an entire wall. Looking out, I was greeted by a breathtaking view of rolling green hills. A reflection pool cut through a portion of the backyard. I could also see the party tent and various staff making final preparations.
“Are you sure it’s okay for Darren and Stephanie to stay here tonight? My sister offered for us to stay at her house again if it’s a problem.”
“Of course they’re welcome to stay. We obviously have the space.”
I turned, confused by the distant tone in his voice. He stood in the middle of the room, watching me. I could tell by the look on his face something wasn’t right. Sympathy pains rumbled through my stomach.
He sat on the edge of his four-poster bed, keeping a steady gaze locked on me. Surrounded by everything that reminded him of his childhood, he chose to focus on what I was doing. My heart wept for him.
“Big fan of the color gray?” I asked, motioning to the carpet and bed linens.
“I suppose,” he shrugged. “It’s non-threatening. Neutral. I don’t know.”
“Does it make you uncomfortable that I’m in here?”
“No. Quite the opposite.”
Hearing that rustled a few sparks in my stomach.
“So, it feels good to be home then?” I asked, sitting next to him.
“This was never home for me. It never will be.”
A cold, hard layer snapped into place over his already rigid exterior. He tensed when I rested my hand on his arm.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“It’s not your fault,” he sighed. “It’s this place. I try not to come here unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
Pulling me into his side, he rested his chin on my head.
"Let's go to the study so you can meet my uncle and grandfather."
We walked down the main staircase, passing through the sitting room. Alastair paused at a large set of wooden doors, tapping on them.
A booming voice told us to enter. Moving cautiously across the hardwood floor, I noticed it was scuffed and well worn. Rich, dark wood-paneled walls surrounded the room. Two men sat stoically in front of a fireplace.
The one who appeared to be in his mid-fifties stood. Smoothing down his tie as he walked, he was next to Alastair in a couple of long strides.
“Good to see you, Alastair.” His voice was deep and rich, with a slight rasp. He regarded his nephew with a cool gaze before embracing him in a wooden hug. Extending his hand to me, he introduced himself as Jason Holden.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Amelia.” His sapphire eyes were guarded.
“You as well, Mr. Holden.”
"Yes. It is quite an honor to finally meet you, Miss Meyers. My grandson speaks very highly of you." Deep-set gray eyes darted over my face as Samuel Holden walked toward me with authority. His presence commanded attention. I held my ground, meeting his probing stare.
"You are far lovelier than the photos led me to believe.”
Air exploded out of my mouth in a ragged gasp. I clutched my stomach, desperate to untie the knot that squeezed and tortured my body. I couldn’t breathe. What photos? My head spun at a sickening speed, blurring the room.
“If you’ll both excuse us,” Alastair growled, securing his arm around my waist. I melted into his side, shell-shocked. I didn’t know how I made it upstairs. A thick fog coated my vision. Closing my eyes helped, but didn’t make the horrible twisting in my stomach go away.
“Lia, look at me,” he commanded quietly, cupping my cheeks. I cracked my lids open to discover I was sitting on the bed. “That’s my girl. I need you to relax, love. Can you do that for me?”
“Relax?” I lashed out. “Are you fucking kidding me? What is going on?”
I was being stalked again. How? My panic transformed into a deep-seated anger that burned from the inside out.
“I’ll tell you. I need you to promise me that you’ll calm down,” he said evenly, pulling our foreheads together. “Please.”
His soothing tone extinguished some of the flames licking at my skin. I wanted to run. My legs tingled with the urge to escape. The only thing stopping me was the look in his eyes. Behind the soothing tone was a man paralyzed by fear.
He dragged in a shaky breath. "I have…I have a rather testy ex. For the most part, she leaves me alone. But every now and again she does something crazy. This time she's hired a private investigator to follow me around."
My mind raced.
“How long has this been going on?”
“It started about a week or so before we met.”
Ignoring my anger and disbelief, I tried to start putting a few pieces together.
“Those phone calls that you got,” I mentioned, “Is this what they were about?”
He nodded, brushing the pad of his thumb over my lips.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I really didn’t think it was something you needed to be bothered with.”
“But I’m in the photos,” I said, my voice rising.
“I know. I’m sorry. I was trying to protect you.”
“How many are there? And don’t lie to me.”
Leveling a hard stare at me, he scowled. “The night we met. The football match. The cocktail party.”
Fighting off the coiling panic, I swallowed. “So, since the beginning…”
“Yes.”
“Nothing from Orlando? What about the kiss seen round the city?”
“No, that one was all tabloid fodder,” he smirked. “I’m not the only one with paparazzi issues.”
“Whatever.” I waved my hand. “Don’t change the subject. How does your grandfather know about all this?”
"We monitor her email."
"Oh," I paused. "What? Why?"
His face turned ashy. "It's a really, really long story. What's important is we found out what she was doing and put a stop to it."
"Is she dangerous?"
"No. She's just very bored and very rich."
Not sure what to make of all that, I flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. This weekend was shaping up to be a doozy. The mattress dipped when Alastair laid back next to me. Flashes of the past few weeks zipped through my memory. Incredibly, I laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“I don’t know.” I rolled over to face him. “I think I’m just really looking forward to a fun night with you, Steph and Darren. We deserve it, don’t you think?”
“I agree,” he said, turning to look at me. “You continue to amaze me, Amelia Meyers.”
“Why?”
“I know how much stalking and all that freaks you out. I’m sorry you got dragged into my mess. I’m also sorry for my grandfather’s lack of tact.”
“It’s not my favorite thing, but I know how much it sucks. I can’t fault you for not wanting to tell me. Although, it does strengthen my secret theory that you are, in fact, Batman.”
“What?” He looked at me like I’d just told him two and two equaled six. “You’re bloody barmy, you know that right?”
“But I got you to smile, so barmy or not, I win.”
A lascivious grin curled his mouth. “Not so fast.”
Moving with the speed and agility of a cheetah, he pinned me down and started tickling me. My squeals echoed through the bedroom, rising high into the vaulted ceiling. I laughed so hard I thought I might burst. It would be worth it though, because his eyes were free again. Shining and unguarded, they danced with elation.
When he finally stopped, I stared at him, breathless. Leaning down so our noses touched, he whi
spered, “You have that look again.”
“So do you,” I said, running my hand through his hair.
Confused, he cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“You look happy.”
For a second I thought he was going to kiss me. Then, his expression shattered. My heart deflated watching the light and joyfulness seep from his eyes, replaced by stone. I waited, letting him find his balance. When he did, I was rewarded with a long, slow passionate kiss. It was different from all the others he’d given me. This one was mind melting.
“I have a confession,” he murmured on my lips.
“What?’
“You’re the first girl I’ve kissed in this room.”
Smiling like a loon, I ruffled his hair. “I better be.”
“Someone,” he squeezed my waist, “has a smart mouth.”
“Would you expect anything less?” I laughed.
“I suppose not,” he said, sitting up. "What color dress are you wearing tonight?"
"Burgundy. Why?"
"What color shoes?"
"Silver." I sat up, watching him walk to his suitcase. "Do you want to wear my outfit this evening?"
"Cheeky," he grinned slyly, pulling out a neatly wrapped box. "This is for you."
He’d bought me a present? My stomach and heart switched places. I took the box, staring at it in disbelief. The wrapping paper was shiny and silver, professionally folded and smoothed out over the box. Unwrapping it slowly, I kept an eye on the guy with the dark red hair hovering next to me.
As soon as the paper fell to the floor I gasped. The name Christian Louboutin stared at me, etched into an oversized shoe box. Opening it, I saw the red soles through the tissue paper. A pair of five inch platform heels covered in clear Swarovski crystals glittered inside.
"Oh my God."
"You looked so amazing wearing the red ones at the gala. I saw these and thought they were perfect for you. Do you like them?"
"They're gorgeous," I breathed out in awe.
"Will they look good with your dress?"
I couldn't tear my eyes away from the sparkling heels.
"Yes. Yes, they will," I said dreamily, a smile crossing my lips. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Glancing up at him, I saw shades of happiness flicker behind his eyes again. I secretly hoped it would stay there.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Hundreds of guests mingled under the massive party tent set up in the backyard. Mini white lights were wrapped around tree branches and lantern lights sat strategically along walking paths so guests could find their way around easily. I heard Stephanie squeal in delight from the dance floor. She was bent backwards in a dramatic dip courtesy of Darren. The small group of people who had gathered to watch them dance applauded with gusto.
I watched as Alastair charmed several partygoers. He looked so dashing in his charcoal suit. Glancing up, he caught my eye. Grinning, he tilted his head and motioned for me to join him.
“Here we go,” I muttered. “More introductions.”
"Doctor and Mrs. Wilson, I'd like you to meet my date, Amelia Meyers."
Smiling more at the fact that he called me his date than actually meeting these people, I shook their hands. We engaged in polite chatter before escaping to a quiet corner near the reflection pool.
"You're beautiful," he whispered as we stood in the moonlight by the water. He slid his hand along my hip, dipping his fingers dangerously close to the impressive slit that exposed my thigh.
"You're a big hit with everyone. They all want to know about the mysterious Amelia."
"Mysterious?" I scoffed. “If they only knew how truly boring I really am."
"You are far from boring. You are intriguing. Exquisite." He kissed me. "Smart. Sexy."
I stroked his tie, grinning. "You have quite a way with words."
He moistened his lips, fixing a dark stare on me. "You like my tie?"
"Yes." I looked up at him coquettishly. “I have a thing for sexy guys in suits.”
“Do you?”
“Mmhmm. I like to wear their ties, and nothing else.”
The stunned silence amused me. I bit the inside of my lip to keep from laughing. A provocative smile spread along his mouth.
"Don't make promises you can't keep."
Cupping my chin, he stared with such longing I almost stumbled backwards. A persistent dull ache grew in my stomach. I hooked my arms around his waist, pulling him closer. The heels had given me some added height, but not enough to be eye to eye. I’d have to settle for eye to mouth.
“Keep looking at me like that and our time at this party will be cut short.”
The dangerous tone in his voice sent a pleasurable shiver through my lower abdomen.
“Is that a promise?”
Raising an eyebrow, he slanted his head. My lids fluttered closed as I anticipated the warmth of his lips on mine.
"Alastair Holden. It's been a long time." A breathy voice cushioned by a light English accent floated through the night air. It knocked me out of the seductive haze I’d been enjoying. Alastair cringed.
Standing a few feet away from us was a strikingly beautiful raven-haired woman. She glided closer, offering a manicured hand to him. He shook it politely.
“Hello, Emma. You’re looking lovely this evening.”
I took some satisfaction in hearing no warmth in his tone. He was all business.
“Always so proper,” she laughed. “I suppose it’s fitting now that you’re CEO. Congratulations.” She rested a hand on his arm, hooding her violet eyes. I wanted to claw them out of her cherubic face.
“Emma, have you met my girlfriend? Amelia Meyers, this is Emma Whelan.”
It was a good thing he had a firm grip around my waist otherwise I would have fallen ass over elbow into the reflection pool. When did I graduate from date to girlfriend?
She plastered on a sugary smile and shook my hand.
"Nice to meet you, Amelia."
Perfectly white teeth remained frozen in a plastic smile. I didn't miss a beat and smiled with just as much saccharine. Tension crackled above our heads.
"Lovely to meet you as well, Emma.”
Her smile faltered for a moment. "You're American? How fantastic. Where are you from exactly?"
"Connecticut, but I live in Florida now."
"And how did you two meet?"
Her shrewd eyes sized me up. Alastair laced his fingers through mine.
"We met in Glasgow several weeks ago,” he answered. "She was in the area for her sister's wedding."
Emma’s burning amethyst stare met Alastair's warning emerald gaze.
"That's lovely." Her beguiling smile cut through the night. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to make my way to the tent for dinner." Her hips swayed seductively as she walked away.
Alastair let out a slow breath.
"I think she liked me," I joked.
"She has her moments."
"How do you know her?"
"Our families go way back," he answered, smoothly deflecting any follow up questions. "Hungry, Meyers?"
"Always, Holden, always."
Arriving back at the party tent, we took our places at the table with Katherine, Jason and Samuel. Alastair also arranged for Darren and Stephanie to sit with us so I wouldn’t be too overwhelmed by the Holden clan.
“Oh my gosh, Lia,” my best friend gushed.
“Oh my gosh, Stephanie,” I mimicked.
“I have news.”
She stared at me, her ice blue eyes glittering.
“Well are you going to tell me or stare at me all night?”
“I have an interview with Finley Marketing and Advertising,” she beamed. We both squeaked in delight, trying not to draw too much attention from the rest of the table.
“That’s fantastic news, Stephanie,” Alastair said. “It’s a great company.”
“Thank you. I guess this means if I get hired I’ll be doing the graphic de
sign work for you.”
“Possibly,” he grinned. “Unless MacCourty puts you on something he deems more exciting.”
“Aye, he has a point,” Darren volunteered. “Wouldn’t want to bore her to death with broadband internet.”
I relaxed into the chair, glad to see them all getting along. The wait staff arrived with dinner. We all quieted down to eat and then listen to several speeches before Alastair was introduced. Even though he was shrouded by his protective shield, he looked at right home in front of the large crowd. Hundreds of eyes focused on my handsome, newly minted media mogul.
He embraced the spotlight, his magnetic charm commanding attention. It was impossible for anyone to tear their eyes away. I was so proud of him.
Once he finished, several well-dressed gentlemen surrounded him and engaged him in a rather spirited discussion. The band started playing again.
“Come on, Lia. Let’s dance,” Darren offered his hand and smiled. I accepted and trotted off with him. Darren was a phenomenal dancer. Even though I could just about keep up, I never lost my footing and was spun, dipped and twirled around the dance floor. The raucous applause at the end of the song shocked me. Breathless, I looked around at the smiling faces that had gathered to watch us.
“That was brilliant,” Darren exclaimed, pulling me into a hug. Another song started, much slower than the last. A bit wobbly, I made my way off the dance floor and almost walked into someone.
“Sorry,” I said, putting my hand on his back.
“No problem,” he answered, turning to me.
I stared into a pair of familiar hazel eyes.
“You’re Brent, right?”
“Good memory. Nice to see you again, Lia.”
“Yeah, you too.” I smiled.
“Care to dance? Granted, I’m not as skilled as your friend there.”
“Oh, I don’t think—“
“I realize I acted like an arse that night at the cocktail party. My apologies. Let me make it up to you. I promise I won’t step on your toes.”
Skeptical, I scrutinized his expression. Seeing nothing but a genuine offer, I accepted. Back out on the dance floor, he pulled me into a gentle, but firm, embrace. He smelled pretty good, too. Not as great as Alastair, but he had a fresh, clean scent, like he’d just stepped out of the shower. Grinning, he did a little spin move.