“Thinking about me?” He nipped at my earlobe.
No, I’m trying to figure out how to deal with those two dozen text messages.
“Maybe.”
“I saw my aunt this morning while you were showering. I think she likes you.”
“You think,” I inquired.
“I know,” he whispered.
“Really? We haven’t said more than five words to each other.”
“She has a knack for reading people. Says you have a genuine way about you. No pretenses. I say she’s spot on in her assessment.”
Curious to see his expression, I turned to face him. The soft breeze that had been blowing through the field caught a piece of my hair, delicately twisting it until it landed under my chin. He reached for the strand and tucked it behind my ear. His goofy grin was too precious.
"Have you seen enough of the Henge? I have somewhere else I want to take you."
"I think I've seen all there is to see here. By all means, take me away." Smiling, I linked arms with him as we walked back to the car.
"So where are we going?" I asked once we were on the road.
Alastair rolled his eyes and laughed. "Took you long enough to ask. Sadly for you, my answer hasn’t changed. I’m not telling."
"Will I like it?"
"Yes."
"Have you been before?"
"Yes. I'm still not telling you."
A triumphant smile spread across his face. I pouted, grabbing his thigh and squeezing. He jumped.
"Causing an accident will only delay the arrival, Amelia." His tone grew serious. "Patience. Is. A. Virtue."
“Sorry.”
“It’s alright. Wouldn’t want to crash my sexy little car now, would I?”
He switched the radio on and scrolled through his iPod via the fancy buttons on the steering wheel. James Morrison’s You Give Me Something filled the car. Settling into the plush leather seat, I lost myself in the music watching the muted green scenery fly by. I still had several unresolved questions from what had transpired last night. Who’s Olivia? Plus, the whole annoyance from back home. For the time being, I decided just to enjoy a drama-free day with him.
"We've arrived," Alastair announced as he parked the car.
"Oh my gosh. Are we at Ascot?" I squeaked, getting out of the car. A massive stadium-like building with a curved design and steely glass exterior sat next to a grass racetrack. I noticed a horse lazily galloping along.
Much to my delight, Alastair laughed at my giddiness. Leading me through the Grandstand entrance, we walked hand in hand along the edge of the track.
"Wow. This is amazing,” I gushed. “I didn't know you could just walk out here like this."
"Well, technically you're not supposed to when a practice is in session. But I may have pulled a few strings."
His shy smile tugged at my heart. I stopped walking and hugged him, whispering my thanks.
"You're welcome.”
I squeezed him tighter.
"Your hugs are a thing of beauty but please don't cause me to pass out."
"Sorry.” I released him. “Don't know my own strength sometimes."
"No harm done. This was a nice surprise then? Worth all the secret keeping?"
“Absolutely."
"Good. I like making you happy and surprising you. Your whole face lights up. It's like watching a rose bloom."
The atmosphere shifted between us. Not in a lusty, pulse pounding way, but in an everything-is-falling-into-place way. His sensual gaze and warm touch were mesmerizing.
"I wasn't expecting this to happen. You. Me." He paused, running his knuckles down my cheek. A kaleidoscope of emotions was etched upon his face. "I'm completely enchanted by you."
Time stopped. The world stopped. The only thing that mattered was this moment. An incredible warmth flowed through me, spreading from my stomach to the tips of my fingers and toes. Unable to speak, I blinked rapidly. Christ, I must look like a lunatic.
“Seems I have you at sixes and sevens."
"Enchanted you? How?"
Shrinking a bit into his shell, Alastair swallowed. "I've spent so much time running from who I am, I never considered the possibility I'd run into someone along the way."
"Why would you ever want to run from who you are?"
Retreating further, he looked down. I cupped his chin, tilting his face up. "Tell me."
Luminous green eyes darkened as sadness, anger and fear twisted through them. His expression hardened and the muscles in his jaw twitched.
"No."
"Alastair. Please," I persisted in a gentle tone. "You can tell me."
"No," he barked. "I'm not ready yet. Please don't ask me again." He walked several feet away, clenching and unclenching his hands into fists.
"Mine eyes deceive me. Is that little Alastair Holden?"
The unknown voice cut through my despair over his reaction. A kindly, elderly man smiled as he approached us. Alastair looked at him curiously.
"You wouldn't remember me; it's been too long." He walked over with his hand outstretched. "Ian Stone."
Recognition spread across his face as he shook hands with Ian. "I do remember you. You took care of that gigantic thoroughbred. How are you?"
"Yes, yes. Elusive Lightning I think his name was. I'm well, very well. How are you? How's your grandfather?"
I stood silently, watching them chat and reminisce. I was struck by how at ease Alastair always seemed when he spoke with people he either barely knew or was meeting for the first time. When he turned on the charm, it sparkled.
Sadness filled my heart. His words from before still echoed. I’d hoped we’d reached a point where he could trust me with his secrets. Patience was never one of my strong suits and it was certainly being tested these days.
"I noticed you were walking with a lovely young woman," Ian paused, turning to me. "Ah, there she is. Come here, love."
Tucking my hands in my pockets, I walked over, hoping a smile brightened my face.
"I'm assuming this pretty lady is your girlfriend, Alastair."
Ian looked at him expectantly, waiting to be introduced. I held my breath.
"This is Amelia Meyers." He stood next to me, placing his hand on my lower back. “Ian takes care of the horses here."
Exhaling at a snail’s pace, I tried to keep a relaxed smile in place. Last night I was his girlfriend, today I’m just Amelia.
"A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. Pleasure to meet you. Care to take a tour of the stalls and see some horses? Training has pretty much ended for the day."
"Would you like that, Lia?"
A tornado of emotions swirled through me as I nodded in agreement. He didn't confirm or deny the girlfriend comment, but I was supposed to embark on a tour of the stables with unbridled enthusiasm. Oh, of course he’s holding my hand. Pushing down any burgeoning insecurities, I chose to focus on the present and not worry about the invariables.
Ian rambled on and on about all the horses who'd ever stayed there. The sweet smell of hay and pungent odor of the animals coated the air.
One horse had his head hanging out of the stall. His large, soulful eyes sized us up. Muscles rippled down its legs and through its impressive chestnut colored body. His coat was more like velvet on steel, than skin on muscle. He was tall, he was lean and he was powerful. I gazed into his friendly eyes.
The horse nodded its head up and down, almost as a greeting.
"Look at that. He wants you to pet him. Go on,” Ian motioned for me to approach the animal.
"Hold out your hand, palm up," Alastair instructed.
Not wanting to scold him for his well-intentioned assistance, I just grinned and moved closer to the horse. This wasn't the first time I’d been around these magnificent beasts.
Holding out my hand, palm up, I waited for the horse to sniff me. Its hot breath blew against my palm. The warm, suede-like muzzle brushed over my skin, tickling me. Running my fingers under its throat, I scratched him.
&nbs
p; "Someone is well versed in the equine world. You've really got a way with him," Ian leaned against the stall, handing me an apple. "Here. It's his favorite snack."
“Thanks.” The beautiful creature immediately gobbled it up, nudging me for more. The force of his affection almost sent me flying.
Ian laughed and clapped Alastair on his shoulder. "That's it. He's got a friend for life now. You'll have to bring her back here often or else he'll think she's abandoned him."
Patting the horse's neck, I turned to Ian. "What's his name?"
"Steel Rhapsody. He's a rare one, a force to be reckoned with on the track."
"He's beautiful."
"Glad you like him." Ian turned to Alastair. "It's good to see you again. It's been far too long since you've been round these parts. I remember when you were just a boy, running through here with Grace. Don't be a stranger."
Hearing someone mention his sister’s name out loud was a shock. I hadn’t heard anybody utter his parents’ or sister’s names since I’d been here. Being mindful not to stare, I kept petting the horse while gauging Alastair’s reaction. His features were frozen solid. No emotion, positive or negative, gave itself away.
“It was an absolute pleasure meeting you, Amelia." Ian approached me with a half-hearted smile. He must have known he’d struck a nerve. Poor guy. “I do hope to see you again soon.”
Waving goodbye to us, he shuffled toward the opposite end of the stable. Alastair still hadn’t moved.
"Feel like walking around a bit more or would you like to get home?"
"We can go back to the house.” He pushed out the words, exhaling harshly.
I’d lost him again behind that damn impenetrable shield.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The house was empty and eerily quiet. Jason and Katherine had left a note saying they’d gone out to dinner with friends. I didn’t mind the alone time, but I wished Alastair’s mood wasn’t so dark. He’d been silent the whole drive back.
We walked upstairs, not saying a word to each other. Almost at my breaking point, I excused myself to use the bathroom. Once I was locked behind the door, I sat on the edge of the tub. Caked mud from the stables fell off my shoes in zigzagged clumps. I took the filthy things off and wiped the floor. What was it about his sister that upset him so much? He’d even had a negative reaction the night I asked what her name was.
I’d never lost anyone close to me, so I could only imagine how painful his childhood had been. Surely his aunt and uncle had sought out professional help for him? A six-year-old boy couldn’t possibly escape a major loss without some emotional scars. Sighing, I tapped my nails on the porcelain.
A soft knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.
"Lia?"
Opening the door, I saw a worried looked engraved on his face.
"Are you alright? You've been in there a long time."
"I have? Sorry. I was just, um," I turned and glanced at the tub, the toilet, anything that could give me a spark of inspiration. I turned back, defeated. "I was just thinking."
A faint smile ghosted across his lips. "There's shepherd’s pie in the kitchen if you're hungry."
"Really? I love shepherd’s pie."
"Brilliant." He offered his hand. "Let's go."
I held his hand tightly as we made our way downstairs. A large casserole dish sat on the island in the middle of the kitchen. Alastair had already taken the liberty of setting out two plates with utensils. I never usually admired kitchens, but this one was rather beautiful. It was open and airy, with all the walnut cabinets banded in stripes of dark grain in warm, sepia-gray tones.
“Make yourself comfortable," Alastair pointed to bar stools at the island. I waited while he grabbed a bottle of wine. When he put it down in front of me, my eyes widened. It wasn’t wine. It was champagne.
“Are we celebrating something?” I stared at him.
Silent as stone, he popped the cork and filled the glasses. His expression was unreadable. A sense of impending doom spread though me. By the time he served the food and sat down, I’d lost my appetite.
"You're not hungry?" he asked without looking in my direction.
"I am. It looks great," I lied, pushing the food around with my fork. I took a tiny bite, sending my knotted stomach on a rampage. It didn’t want to be nourished, it wanted to be left alone.
Echoes of the grandfather clock chiming in the new hour filled the house. I forced myself to eat several more bites and drink most of the champagne. One mustn’t waste a glass of Veuve Clicquot.
Resting the fork on the plate, I folded my arms. This was ridiculous. His mood was so uninviting. Even his body language was off-putting.
“Is there a problem?” I asked.
Not looking away from the food, he answered, “No.”
I wanted to grab his rigid shoulders and shake the life out of him.
“Well, I’m done. I’m going to take a bubble bath.”
Alastair stood up, collected the plates and then looked at me. His eyes were dark. "Will you be long?"
"I don't know. The usual bubble bath time, I guess."
"Don't be long," he ordered.
“Hey,” I said, my voice rising. “Watch your tone with me. I’ll take as long as I want. What does it matter to you anyway? You haven't said more than ten words to me in the past hour."
Getting off the stool, I planted my feet on the floor and engaged him in a challenging stare. His stunned silence didn’t last long. A wall of terror surrounded me when I saw him come around the island. Two realities merged together into one horrific scenario. He was coming at me. I was going to be trapped again. Not sure what I was seeing or what was going to happen, I backed away fast, slamming into the wall. Panic strangled my heart. Squeezing my eyes shut, I could still see him looming in front of me.
Bracing for what I knew would happen next, I lowered my head, praying for it to be over fast.
“Lia.”
My whispered name wafted through the tunnel of my mind, beckoning me. Every muscle in my body mimicked steel. I was unable to move.
“Lia. Open your eyes.”
The soothing, calm cadence of the request broke through my fear. Still not certain as to what I’d see, I cracked open my eyelids. Blinking, I stared at the floor, seeing nothing but my own feet. Nothing else was in front of me, nobody was holding me against the wall. Lifting my head, I saw Alastair, pale with shock, standing by the island. He took a step forward.
“Don’t come any closer,” I begged, tears flowing down my cheeks in rivers.
My plea stopped him dead in his tracks.
“I’m not going to hurt you, love,” he reassured me, holding up his hands.
Trembling from head to toe, I let his words bathe and comfort me. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. I knew it with every piece of my being.
“Alastair,” I whimpered, slumping against the wall. With great caution, he walked toward me. When he was close enough, I collapsed in his arms. Securing me in his embrace, he held me, letting me cry into his shoulder.
“Sweetheart, I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” he repeated, stroking my back. “You’re safe with me.”
Hearing his declaration launched another wave of tears. I hugged him so tightly I was afraid I’d crush his ribs. He didn’t seem to mind. I stayed latched onto him forever; I didn’t know how long and I didn’t care.
"Let's go to another room,” he suggested. “Somewhere cozy and quiet. Alright?"
Lifting my head, I met his gaze. His eyes were huge, filled with worry. I melted into his side, letting him lead me through the house. We passed a formal dining room and what appeared to be a library. At the end of a short hallway, he pushed open a large door. Inside was a dimly lit room. It was inviting and warm and had a plush wraparound couch nestled against the walls. I relaxed almost instantly. The comforting hues of creams, golds and olive greens wrapped around me like a blanket.
"This was the playroom when my sister and I were little,” he explained, settling
onto the couch with me. “There used to be a toy box there. We'd play in here for hours and hours. It's my favorite room in the house."
He wiped my tears with his thumb.
"I can't bear to see you cry, Lia."
Welling up for the millionth time, I curled up next to him, resting my head on his chest.
"May I ask you something?" he proposed, kissing the top of my head.
I nodded against him.
"You don't have to answer if you don't feel comfortable doing so, but will you tell me what happened with Nathan?”
I didn’t want to. If I had my way, I’d bury every memory I had of him. But to be fair, I had to answer.
Wiping my eyes, I sat up. “It started out fine. He was charming and fun and exciting. I mean, his dad’s a senator, so I got to experience some great things. After about a year or so, I noticed a change.”
Glancing at Alastair, I saw I had a fiercely attentive audience.
“I consider myself a friendly person. We’d be at public functions or big, fancy dinners and I’d talk to whoever struck up a conversation with me. One time, some guy started talking to me. He was harmless, but Nathan…” I paused. “I never told you his name, did I?”
“No.”
“How do you know it?”
“That night at your flat, when Stephanie called, you said you had an incident with Nathan. I sort of figured it out.”
His impish grin made me smile.
“Right. Anyway. Um, to make a long story short, he’d get upset when I talked to other guys. It didn’t matter who it was; he didn’t like it. Then he started leaving gifts on my car when I was out with my friends.”
“Gifts?”
I nodded. “Roses, little notes, things like that. It was cute at first, but then things would show up on my car when I hadn’t told him where I was going. He would text me incessantly wanting to know where I was, who I was with, stuff like that. I brushed it off for as long as I could, thinking maybe he’s doing all this because his dad is so high profile. But I got tired of it and wanted out.”
I blew out a shaky breath. This was harder than I thought.