Unravel Me

  “This is where I first kissed you,” he whispered, brushing his thumb over my lips. “This is where you made me feel for the first time in years.”

  Something about the cottage had a calming effect on him. He stood before me, devoid of any protective shield or mask. Seeing him so open melted my heart. He moved closer, gently running his knuckles down my cheek.

  “Please tell me what’s bothering you.”

  Panic streaked through me. I can’t. Not moving, I struggled to maintain eye contact with him. He stayed silent, watching me carefully. Feigning aloofness was out of the question. He saw through me too easily.

  “Rough week at the office, chief. That’s all.” I grinned, hoping it touched my eyes so he’d be convinced. There was truth to that. It had been a rough week.

  Cradling my face gently as though he were holding porcelain, he studied me. It made me uncomfortable. I knew it was my own fault for not being forthcoming but I had to keep this from him. He hovered his lips over mine.

  “We are so much more alike than I realized,” he said, kissing me softly. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready, yes?”

  “There’s noth—”

  His mouth covered mine, the pressure making my lips burn. I wrapped my fingers around the back of his neck, holding him tight against me. His impassioned kisses were just as magnificent as the tender ones. They lit my bloodstream on fire. Hazy and throbbing with want, I met his ardent stare.

  “Are you going to keep kissing me like that until I tell you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you’ll have to wait.”

  Leaning his forehead to mine, he laughed. “You drive a hard bargain, Meyers.”

  I ran my hands up and down his back, gliding them slowly over the cotton t-shirt. A low moan vibrated in his throat. I loved the sounds he made when he was turned on. Lifting the hem of his shirt I snuck my hands under, caressing the warm, soft skin along his lower back. I felt his muscles contract.

  “Don’t control it,” I said against the corner of his mouth. “Let go.”

  He jerked backwards, burning me with a blistering stare. The heat from his body still pulsed against me. His raw emotion was palpable. Teetering on the edge, he fought to retain control. I made him look this way. I broke his every defense.

  “You’re mine, Holden. You don’t have to hide behind the mask with me.”

  I wanted so much for him to see me as his safe place, someone he could trust with his emotions. I think on some level he did. Our relationship was new and unchartered territory for both of us. Alastair standing there and looking at me with that bewitching stare made it difficult to concentrate. Even when he fought to corral his feelings, the strength of his desire hit me at full force.

  “You are so goddam sexy.” I didn’t even recognize the sound of my own voice, mostly because that was supposed to be an inside thought.

  A salacious grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Ditto, love.”

  He scooped me up off the floor and tossed me over his shoulder. I shrieked in surprise as he carried me to the bedroom, laughing when he placed me on the bed. He strode over to a small desk and opened a laptop. Slow, jazzy piano music filled the room.

  “Who is that?”

  “Jamie Cullum.” He climbed onto the mattress. Poised over me, he lowered his head so our noses touched. “We’re going to lie here and forget the world for a while, alright?”

  Enclosed within his magnetic sphere I reached up, touching his cheek. “If that’s what you want.”

  His jaw tensed, eyes flashing. “You are what I want. Only you. Always.”

  He kissed me with the feverish passion of a man who’d finally found the one thing that gave his life meaning. We made out like sex-starved teenagers, rolling around on the bed, yanking each other’s shirts off. Hands and fingers moved greedily over skin, grabbing and caressing. His body was solid, lean muscle next to my soft, curves. I had no definitive thought process, only where I should touch him next.

  When we finally stopped, I had ended up on top of him, slowly kissing his neck.

  “What are you doing with that smart mouth of yours, Amelia?”

  “Staking my claim.” I nibbled at his skin. He tensed briefly, then moaned and relaxed. I kissed down his chest, smiling as the reddish-brown hairs tickled my face. A quick squeeze at my waist stopped me.

  “Hey.” I sat up.

  “I have to get something. Don’t move.”

  He kissed my nose before standing up and leaving the room. I grabbed one of the oversized pillows and flopped onto my stomach, listening to INXS sing soulfully about afterglow. Resting my chin on my hand I smiled, looking out into the bedroom. Like the rest of the cottage, this room was warm and cozily draped in rich neutral colors. It reminded me a bit of the color scheme in his living room, only without the cold, sterile aura.

  He seemed much happier and at peace here than he did anywhere else. But maybe that was just my wishful thinking. Anytime he let his guard down was a moment to behold. Oh, how I loved when he did. I could only hope he realized how much it meant to me.

  I noticed something move out the corner of my eye. Looking to my left I saw Alastair standing by the door, pointing a camera in my direction.

  “What are you doing?” I jumped.

  Confused, he lowered the camera. I clutched the comforter, trying to tame my furiously beating heart. Dammit. Control yourself.

  “You just,” I stammered, “I wasn’t expecting you to be taking pictures of me.”

  “I was going to say something but you looked so pretty lying there. Sorry.” His shy little smile made me melt. So did the fact that he was shirtless wearing only his jeans. “Want to see?”

  “Sure,” I sighed, sitting up. Settling next to me, he turned the camera so I could look at the preview screen. There I was, stretched out on my stomach clad in only my bra and shorts, hair all mussed up. My pinky finger rested on my lips, which were curled into a lovesick smile. To top it all off, my legs were bent at the knees, feet pointing up to the ceiling. Oh my God.

  “I look so…” I wrinkled my nose.

  “Perfect.”

  “I’m far from perfect.”

  He frowned. “I want you to see yourself through my eyes. This is my favorite smile of yours. You have so many different ones but this one…it’s…“ He swallowed hard. “I like to think you smile like this when you’re thinking about me.”

  I blinked at him, stunned.

  “Too cheesy again?”

  “No. It’s, um…you have a favorite smile?”

  “I have a lot of favorite things about you. At the risk of sounding too soppy, I’ll end it there.”

  Regaining some of his trademark cool-as-ice demeanor, he leaned against the headboard. The guy who once declared he didn’t do relationships certainly knew how to charm a girl. Always a master at disguising his feelings, the mask slid back into place, locking in any trace of emotion that tried to escape. Not what I wanted.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  He eyed me suspiciously. “Alright.”

  “How did you end up with this place?”

  The switch from stoic to tranquil was subtle. He stared out in an almost dreamlike state. I was fascinated.

  “It belonged to my mum’s parents. They were from Scotland and bought this cottage shortly after they married. I never met them. They died before I was born and left it to her. Years went by before anyone thought to do anything with it. I remember my parents talking about having it renovated so we could spend summers here. Obviously that never happened.” His shoulders slumped. “When I turned eighteen and finally got the keys to the place I drove out here to see it. I’d never been before. It was rundown and needed loads of work to be livable. I hired some contractors, told them what I wanted and here we are.”

  Every layer I managed to peel away held an intriguing nugget of information.

  “You never considered selling it?”

  “No.” His voice tightened. “Not an op
tion.”

  “So, you’re part Scottish then?”

  A huge smile brightened his face. “Aye. My being a ginger didn’t give it away, lass?”

  “At least your attempt at a Scottish accent is better than your American one. What other tricks can you do? Got any kilts in your closet?”

  Raising an eyebrow, he grinned wickedly. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

  “I like you just as you are now; half naked in your jeans, relaxed and playful. This cottage has an amazing effect on your whole being. It makes me happy to see you this way.” The words tumbled out of my mouth faster than I could employ some sort of filter.

  “I feel safe here,” he said quietly, not breaking eye contact with me. “For someone like me, that’s rare.”

  The strength of his admission hit me hard. This was his sanctuary, a place to lock out the world and be himself. I studied his body language, looking for any signs of withdrawal. He sat calmly, hands resting in his lap. I half expected him to start meditating.

  “Is that why you brought me here?”

  Staring darkly, he repositioned himself to kneel in front of me. Every muscle moved with controlled precision. I sat up on my knees so we were eye to eye. He still seemed relaxed but there was a hint of danger in his eyes.

  “We all want to be understood, to find that one person who needs no explanation when they look at you. I’ve wandered through most of my life shutting out that possibility. And then I met you.” He paused, tracing his finger along my jaw. “Nobody has seen me so completely. We’re two sides of the same coin, Amelia. I am yours and you are mine. Always.”

  A pleasurable shiver ran down my spine.

  “I told you once that you made me feel so much, it hurt. Even now, in the safety of this cottage, it hurts. I don’t understand it but I know I can’t live without it.” He used both hands to cup my jaw, fixing a stare on me so hot the intensity burned straight to the pit of my stomach. I grabbed his waist, pulling him closer.

  “I hate to break it to you, Holden, but you have it bad for me.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yup.”

  “Your way with words is stunning as always, Meyers.”

  “I love you, too.” I leaned in, brushing my lips on his. “The thing I mentioned before about you being so goddam sexy?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thought I’d, you know, bring it up again.”

  He kissed my forehead. “Tell me what you want. I’ll give you the world if you asked.”

  “I have everything I want right in front of me.”

  He slowly traced his fingers along the contours of my body, savoring each curve with gentle strokes. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

  “Why?”

  The atmosphere shifted as an unrelenting tempest of want and need gathered around us.

  “Because I said so, love,” he said in a low, commanding tone. Only the feral gleam in his eyes betrayed the outer shell of control. When he spoke to me like this my whole body came alive.

  I watched him saunter out of the room and trembled with anticipation. Not even the stress of the past week could derail the frenzy of lust that continued to build. I became more attuned to my deepest, most intimate desires with him. He brought out a side of me I’d never allowed myself to set free with anyone else.

  I barely noticed the lights turning off as they were replaced by the flickering glow of candles. A haunting piano melody filled the room rounded out by a slow, seductive electronic beat. Alastair had me caged against the mattress and locked in a deep kiss as wisps of the lyrics floated through what was left of any conscious thoughts in my mind.

  “This song,” he whispered on my lips, “is called Bloodstream. It describes exactly what you do to me.”

  Too overwhelmed by him and how he covered every inch of me in magnificent kisses, I neglected to pay attention to the song.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The mattress moved as Alastair stirred next to me, draping an arm over my stomach. His face held none of the dispassionate, guarded façade it did while he was awake. Sleep almost gave him a seraphic glow. My tragic angel.

  Carefully removing his arm, I almost managed to get up without waking him.

  “Lia,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “Stay with me.”

  “I’m just getting some water,” I whispered, kissing his forehead.

  “Hurry back, love.”

  He was sound asleep before I left the bedside. I tiptoed to the living room. The cottage floors were old and creaky so I made sure to move as quietly as possible. I noticed the green light on my cell phone blinking from the coffee table. I grabbed it and took a small blanket from the couch. Taking a deep breath, I unlatched the door and went outside. A chilly breeze swept over my bare skin. Even in July Scotland had a way of reminding me not to get overly comfortable with the warmer temperatures.

  Hugging the blanket around me, I unlocked the phone. Several text messages from Nathan waited for me. I was about to respond when the phone vibrated in my hand.

  “What?” I hissed.

  “I thought you’d be sleeping,” Nathan drawled. “Did I wake you?”

  “No. Why the hell are you calling me in the middle of the night?”

  I heard him sigh in a way that suggested he was rubbing his hand over his face. I’d seen him do that a million times, usually when he was frustrated. “When do you get back to Orlando? I need to see you.”

  I scrunched my toes into the cool grass. “No, you don’t.”

  “Listen,” he snapped, “do you want my help or not? If you do, we’re doing this my way.”

  “I don’t take orders from you. We don’t ever need to be in the same space.”

  “Dammit Lia, stop being so difficult.”

  My anger at him and with myself for reopening this door flooded my body. “I’m not say—”

  The phone was ripped from my hand. I spun around, coming face to face with one pissed off Englishman. Alastair put the phone to his ear and said in a deadly calm tone, “Leave. Her. Alone.”

  Moonlight cast a silver glow on his stony expression, accentuating the unfiltered animosity in his eyes. He remained still as a statue, holding my phone in a death grip. Seconds passed by with slow torture.

  “Call or talk to her again and it will be one of the last things you do.” Ending the call, he lowered his hand and stared at me. “Is this what’s been bothering you?”

  I couldn’t answer. I just pulled the blanket tighter. Reaching out as though he was going to touch my cheek, Alastair stopped and scowled. Vulnerability hovered behind his eyes like smoke before disappearing, wrenching my heart.

  “I—”

  “Tell me why you were on the phone with him, in my front garden, at two in the morning.”

  This wasn’t a request. Gone was the relaxed, playful man I’d spent the day with. I was now presented with his public persona, the one so guarded and locked it gave weight to the reputation that he was standoffish and didn’t want to be bothered. I hated knowing I caused this side of him to materialize.

  “He’s been after me all week about some exclusive interview.” The words flowed out of my mouth with little effort. I had no idea my brain could even work let alone react with such logic. “He won’t tell me what it’s about and already,” I raked a hand through my tangled hair, “finagled a dinner meeting out of me this week.”

  A raised eyebrow was his only response.

  “I hated every second of it,” I blurted. “He kept apologizing for everything and wanted to make amends. I didn’t—”

  “Do you want to be with him?” he interrupted with strained agony in his voice.

  Air rushed out of my lungs forcing me to bend forward and clutch my thighs. “No. Jesus, Alastair, why would you even think that?”

  “You know his demons. You don’t know all of mine. Familiarity can be comforting even in the most undesirable circumstances.”

  “That’s crazy talk and you know it.” I moved clos
er to him. “This is all on me. I fucked up and should have told you but I wanted this weekend to be about us. No drama. No stress. Just you. And me.”

  Dropping the blanket, I put my hands on his bare chest. I felt the ferocious vibrations of his heart beating and waited for him to push me away or shrink further into his shell. How could I expect him to see me as his safe place if I treated him this way? A hot, gritty lump forced its way up my throat.

  “Look at me.” He wrapped both hands around my neck, pushing his thumbs into my jaw and compelling me to look up. Passion and determination blazed from his eyes. “I’ve never worked harder at anything in my life. Every instinct I have tells me not to get attached to you, not to let you in. But you are my clarity. I’ve never felt as strongly for someone as I do for you and it scares the shit out of me. I will move heaven and earth for you but if I am not what you want—”

  “You are the only thing I want,” I yelled, my voice echoing through the darkness.

  “—I will step aside.”

  The weight of his words hung in the air, dulling the stars and muting the moon’s glow. I couldn’t breathe. I could only stand and shiver. Letting go of my neck, he bent down and picked up the blanket, draping it over my shoulders. I wilted under the heaviness, feeling it more as a burden than comfort.

  “I’m sorry.” Thick tears rolled down my cheeks. Wiping them away with his thumb, he considered saying something. Instead, he kissed the corner of my mouth. I grabbed the back of his head, pulling his lips to mine, desperate to show him how much I loved him. He held me tightly, kissing down my neck, whispering words of affection. You are my world…my everything…always…always…always.

  Scooping me in his arms, he carried me back into the cottage.

  * * *

  Buchanan Street was apparently the place to be on Sunday afternoon. Scores of high-end retail stores lined both sides of the pedestrian friendly street. For someone as well-versed in shopping as me, this was heaven. Warm sunlight shone down as Alastair and I walked hand in hand on the strikingly beautiful granite stonework. I drank in the intricate mix of Victorian architecture and urban design. Glasgow had quickly become one of my favorite places on earth.