Unravel Me

  “This way.” Alastair tugged gently at my hand, guiding me down another street lined with shops. We stopped in front of a jewelry store. My pulse skyrocketed when he reached for the door.

  “Are we going in there?”

  “Yes, love.”

  Either I swayed or a rare earthquake shook the sidewalk.

  “Relax, Lia. It’s not what you think. Not yet.”

  He led me to a display case filled with glittering diamonds, emeralds, sapphires and every other precious stone imaginable. Bypassing those, he stopped at the far end of the display. Inside sat the most unique, beautiful ring I’d ever seen. A gorgeously polished cognac amber nugget was nestled beneath a swirling setting of white gold encrusted with small diamonds. The nugget was huge and oval within its imperfect shape. The setting was wrapped around the amber, almost mimicking a hug.

  “Mr. Holden. Welcome back,” a well-dressed man from behind the counter greeted him. I glanced at the lapel of his dark suit and noticed a nametag. Alright, Robert. What do the two of you have in store for me?

  Alastair squeezed my hand and grinned. “Been getting many inquires about this?” he gestured toward the ring.

  “Several. It’s not often we keep a custom designed ring on display when it’s already spoken for.”

  I swallowed. Hard. Robert opened the display case, removed the ring and laid it on a piece of velvet in front of me. My free hand flew to my neck, grasping the necklace Alastair had given me only a few weeks ago at the beach. I ran my thumb over the platinum ‘A.’

  “Try it on,” he encouraged, letting go of my hand.

  I picked it up and slid it onto the middle finger of my left hand, immediately feeling its weight. Holding up my hand, I admired the way the amber glowed and the diamonds sparkled under the soft light.

  “The stone’s color reminded me of your eyes,” Alastair said, brushing his thumb over the ring. “I hope you—”

  I silenced him with a kiss. Feeling the firm pressure of his lips moving with mine negated any reservations I had about public displays of affection.

  “I love you. So much,” I declared, tightening my grip on his shirt. “Always.”

  Little by little, fragments of the impenetrable outer shell were breaking away, revealing the man I adored. It wasn’t a complete shedding of the barrier. He kept enough in place to let me know there were still some issues we had to work through. “I want everyone to know you're mine. Off the market, so to speak.”

  By everyone, I knew he meant only one specific person. His penetrating stare was sultry but it made me nervous.

  “I only have eyes for you, Alastair Holden.”

  The slightly arched eyebrow did nothing to quell the undeniable disdain he held for my ex. “Good.”

  Grinning, I pulled him close for a soft kiss.

  Two women took it upon themselves to pick this moment to stand next to us and peruse the jewelry in the case. It was clear they knew exactly who he was. They shot sideways glances at me while pretending to coo over the rings. He probably didn’t appreciate these people being so intrusive. Much to my surprise, he fisted his hand in my hair and kissed me with such force I almost fell backwards. Sliding his tongue around mine in long slow strokes, he kept us locked in this heated embrace far longer than I would have expected. Not that I minded.

  “My Lia,” he breathed. “Let’s get out of here.”

  I swear I saw the two women fanning themselves as we left.

  * * *

  The level of concentration on his face was staggering as he flipped through a large cookbook. I stood on the opposite side of the breakfast bar, not hiding the amused smile growing on my lips.

  “You’re staring.”

  “So are you. I’m hungry. Get started, chief.”

  He flicked those bright emerald irises at me, making my heart race. “I’d rather not have this go pear shaped if you don’t mind.”

  “C’mon. It’s only dinner. Don’t be so…” I paused, looking for the right word, “British.”

  He smirked. “You don’t know what pear shaped means, do you?”

  Tapping my nails on the counter, I shrugged. I knew what it meant but was more interested in the stare being leveled at me than his use of slang. Those eyes could stop time. Oh, and that mouth. Even twisted in a wry grin it made my insides quiver. Mine. Every inch of him was mine.

  “What are you thinking about?” The rich, velvet tenor of his voice curled my toes.

  “You. Duh.”

  “Very articulate.”

  “What can I say? You’re, like, totally hot and I wanna see you naked.” I twirled my hair in an exaggerated manner and winked.

  He smiled slightly. Since we returned to his house in Bearsden after the jewelry store I’d been trying to draw out his playful side. The emotional roller coaster from last night had a strong hold on both of us. I’d hoped it would have weakened by now. Strumming his fingers on the counter, Alastair sighed.

  “How about we order food instead and do…couple-y things?”

  “Couple-y things?” I scrunched my nose. “Who’s being articulate now?”

  He shrugged. “I have this big living room that I never use. I thought maybe we could watch a movie or listen to music or…have a snog or two.”

  “Oh, those couple-y things. You mean, what normal people do?” I teased.

  “Cheeky.” His pretty eyes dropped their shield sending a rush of happiness through me. “What do you prefer? Chinese, Indian or Italian?”

  “Keep it simple. You can’t go wrong with pizza.”

  Shooting me an exaggerated eye roll, he rifled through one of the drawers and pulled out a menu. Judging by the name of the restaurant, it was something Italian and most certainly not pizza. He disappeared to his office without asking me what I wanted. I made myself comfortable in the museum-like living room. The couch cushions were so puffy I had a feeling I was the only one to ever sit on them. I was afraid to touch anything. Even the remote control for the flat screen television looked unused. The only thing in here that had any personal feel to it was the photo he’d taken of Big Ben with a red bus driving past it.

  I smiled to myself, wondering what he was going to do with the pictures he’d taken of me last night. It wasn’t too big of a stretch to think he’d display them somewhere in the house. Preferably the bedroom. Although from my understanding nobody ever came here so he could blow the pictures up poster sized and hang them all over the house if he wanted. Silly, silly thoughts.

  “You look like the cat that got the cream,” he remarked, striding through the room. “I’m going to pick up the food. It’s just down the street so I won’t be long. Make yourself comfortable.”

  I grabbed the remote and stretched out on the couch, saluting him. “Yes, sir.”

  His gaze darkened as he hovered over me. “Be careful, kitten. I could get used to you saying that.”

  Spurred on by the heated stare leveled at me, I ran a finger down his shirt. “Is that so, Mr. Holden?”

  “Vixen,” he muttered, nipping at my earlobe. “I’ll deal with you when I come back.”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  “Wow.” The throaty laugh I loved so much filled the room. “Someone is extra feisty tonight.”

  I heard him chuckling all the way to the door. Once he was gone, I decided to take another self-guided tour of his house. Strolling past the master bedroom and home office, I noticed a closed door at the far end of the hallway. I twisted the doorknob and was surprised to find it locked. My curiosity shot off the charts. I figured it was a second bedroom but why keep it under lock and key? What is he hiding now? Scolding myself for always assuming the worst, I went to his bedroom. The camera sat on his bureau. I grabbed it, turned on the preview screen and almost dropped it.

  A picture of me sleeping popped up. Thank goodness I wasn’t slack jawed or drooling in the photo. I actually looked quite peaceful with one hand curled under my chin. Taking a deep breath, I scrolled through more photos. They
were all of me. He must have taken a dozen while I was sleeping. The rest were from when he’d been lurking by the door.

  His aunt once told me he had a soft spot for fragile beauty. She’d mentioned he was drawn to how delicate and unexpected it was. I guess that was how he saw me. I thought back to last night when we were standing outside.

  I’ve never worked harder at anything in my life.

  Underneath all the expensive clothes and rigid exterior, there was a broken man who yearned to love. I knew he didn’t trust his emotions. I knew he retreated to a dark place when he felt overwhelmed. Inadequateness surged from the pit of my stomach to the tips of my fingers and toes. My own insecurities could be just as crippling.

  Stretching out on the bed, I held the camera on my stomach and closed my eyes. A frisson of electricity jolted me. My hairs stood on end. I knew he was in the room. I could feel him.

  “Do you always take pictures of sleeping, unsuspecting women?” I asked with a grin.

  The mattress jostled when he sat down.

  “Only ones who find themselves in my bed.”

  The tone of his response suggested there was a cocky grin crossing his lips. I confirmed my suspicions as soon as I looked at him.

  “You must have quite the collection.”

  He hesitated, uncertain if he wanted to continue. The uneasiness was brief. “I do now. And I think I want to add more.”

  The sultry timbre in his voice, coupled with those hooded bedroom eyes, roused all the right parts of my body. I sat up, nuzzling my nose to his. “After you feed me.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” he smiled. “Come on.”

  Two plates of pasta were arranged on the coffee table along with some garlic bread and a small salad. We ate in silence mostly because I was petrified I’d spill something on his pristine rug. He cleared the dishes, instructing me to stay on the couch and wait for him.

  Andrea Bocelli's clear, tenor voice floated through the room joined by the powerful vocals of Sarah Brightman for their popular duet Con te partirò. I turned, noticing Alastair standing in front of the media cabinet. He held a remote and scrolled through a list of songs.

  “Do you have a preference?” he asked.

  “Whatever you like to listen to is fine with me.”

  “Alright.” He set down the remote and flopped onto the couch next to me. Sighing into the cushions, he draped his arm over my shoulders. “This is rather comfortable.”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve never sat in here before.”

  He shot me a sideways glance and grinned. “I have, once or twice.” Tucking me into his side, he continued, “There’s not usually a gorgeous girl next to me though. This relationship thing may have its advantages.”

  I laughed. “I’ve been upgraded to arm candy for your living room? Sweet.”

  Resting my head on his chest, I lost myself in the rhythmic beating of his heart. It sped up when I placed a hand on his thigh.

  “Do you have to fly home tomorrow?” The soft warmth of his lips brushed against my forehead. I squeezed his leg.

  “Yeah.”

  Enveloping me in his arms, he repositioned himself so we were both lying on the couch, fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. Leaning his forehead to mine he whispered, “Stay. Live with me."

  A full brigade of butterflies and fireworks exploded in my stomach. I froze in the midst of his stare.

  Unaffected, he continued, “I want the sound of your laughter to fill this house. I want to fall asleep next to you every night and wake up with you every morning.”

  “I—”

  “If you’re worried about your job, don’t be. I have it on good authority a highly rated news magazine program is looking for a new executive producer. I can get you an interview tomorrow.”

  “Christ,” I muttered. “Does your company own this show?”

  “No.”

  This had to be a joke. It wasn’t possible for me to drop everything and move to Glasgow at a moment’s notice, let alone switch jobs on a whim.

  “Your brain is overheating, kitten.”

  I rolled my eyes at his smug grin. “Well, you try being me for a second with some hot English guy saying all these super romantic things. It’s not easy for me to say no to you, Alastair.”

  “I know,” he kept grinning. “Think about it. And then say yes.”

  “Oh my God,” I snorted. “You’re impossible.”

  Keeping that ridiculous grin plastered to his face, he leaned in and kissed me softly. It turned my brain into a useless pile of gray matter.

  “Will it always be like this? Will it always feel this way?”

  The innocence and wonder reflecting in his eyes brought tears to my own. I didn’t know the answer to that. Nobody did. I told him the only thing I felt in my soul.

  “It will as long as we love each other.”

  Swallowing hard, he nodded and held me tighter. “I hope you’re right,” he whispered.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Amelia Grace, why do you never answer the phone?” my mother’s chipper voice blared through the receiver. “Your father and I have booked a flight to Orlando. We arrive on Friday. It would be nice if we got to see our daughter.”

  I erased the voice message and rested my head on the steering wheel. I loved my parents dearly and missed them but I sort of wanted this weekend to be all about vegging out on the couch. They usually took an impromptu vacation every summer to the west coast or Bermuda or somewhere that wasn’t Central Florida. I could only imagine why they were gracing me with their presence.

  I glanced up at the threatening black clouds. The second I stepped out of my car, the sky opened up and poured its wet bucket of sadness all over me. Grimacing, I ran toward the restaurant wishing a magical dome would appear and save me from the downpour. Nope. I ran right through a puddle instead. My feet squished in the now soaked sandals I thought would be so cute to wear today.

  “Stupid summer rain,” I grumbled.

  I saw Stephanie as soon as I walked through the restaurant doors. She sat at the bar, flirting mercilessly with a guy who exuded the casual air of a California surfer. When I first moved to Orlando we had flirting down to a choreographed science when we’d go out. She was a master. No man was safe when she turned on the charm.

  “Lia,” she called, waving me over. “Come sit.”

  Smoothing down my damp hair, I perched on the stool next to her.

  “This is Bradley.” She introduced us.

  Unassumingly handsome with shaggy blond hair and chocolate brown eyes, he was the poster-child for the type of man Stephanie drooled over. I leaned forward, shaking his hand.

  “Bradley just moved here from Maine,” Stephanie informed me, poking my side with her elbow.

  “Yeah. A really, really small town called Castine,” he said. “I was offered a job down here, so I packed up my car, threw the dog in the backseat and headed south.”

  “Maine, huh? I’m originally from Connecticut.” I smiled.

  He laughed. “A couple of displaced New Englanders in all this Florida heat and humidity. How long have you lived here?”

  “Almost six years.”

  “How about you?” he turned to my best friend, “Are you from New England, too?”

  “Oh God, no. I was born and raised here. I grew up in Oviedo.”

  “My first native Floridian? I didn’t think any of you actually existed.”

  “We do.” She laughed coquettishly and morphed back into full on flirt mode. The protocol was for me to remain nearby and only intervene if she flashed the signal. Catching the bartender’s attention I ordered a glass of sparkling wine and fiddled with my phone. Alastair’s invitation to live with him flitted through my mind. I would love nothing more than to be with him permanently.

  “Come on, Lia. Our table’s ready.”

  Looking up I saw Stephanie hug her new conquest goodbye before following the hostess. We were seated at a table by the window.

  “You two seeme
d to hit it off,” I remarked, raising an eyebrow.

  “What? Yeah. He was nice.”

  Stephanie was flustered. Unbelievable.

  “Nice? Who are you?”

  “Huh?” She blinked. “Oh. He was okay. We’re going out on Friday.”

  “Are you inviting him to your big new job celebration?”

  Her face brightened immediately. “I still can’t believe they hired me. And I’m moving to Glasgow in two weeks. This is crazy. You have to come with me.”

  “I just got back yesterday,” I laughed.

  “So?” she exclaimed. “You have to help me move and get all settled. It’s only fair. Tell Bruce this is more important than the show and writing thirty second stories and editing stupid video.”

  The panicked look on her face would have been priceless had she not been serious. Getting hired at Finley Marketing and Advertising as a graphic designer may be a dream job for Stephanie but leaving the city she loves and all her friends behind weighed heavily on her.

  “I’ll see what I can do. At this rate Bruce might tell me to stay over there.”

  “That would be the best news ever. Live with me, find a fabulous job and we will own that city.”

  “You make it sound so simple.”

  “It is.” She looked me up and down. “Besides, you’re still glowing from the weekend so I know at least one other person would be thrilled if you moved there.”

  “Let’s not get a—”

  “It’s the next logical step.” She waved her hand to brush off my protest. “I mean, my God, look at that ring. I’m surprised you got on the plane to come back. Don’t give me that look. You know I’m right. Besides, long distance relationships are tough. Especially when it’s across an ocean.”

  “So now you’re pro-Alastair?” I sat back, folding my arms.

  “I was never really anti. He’s a little moody and stiff sometimes but he treats you like a queen. Darren likes him and he would tell me if there was something off about him. The other stuff is… I shouldn’t have given what Cassie said so much stock. I worry about you and hearing all that negative gossip about him pissed me off.”