Bound to Please (31 page)

Maiden Lane was a cobblestoned pedestrian alley lined with eclectic boutiques, high-end salons, and restaurants. Not many tourists ventured down the narrow passage, and locals often enjoyed a cup of coffee or a glass of wine at one of the outdoor cafés.

As she meandered down the alley her gaze landed on a couple sipping wine. The man looked strikingly like Emmett, but it couldn’t be him. This man was sitting much too close to his blonde companion and rubbing her hand in an obviously intimate way.

But it really looked like Emmett. He was even wearing red high-tops, which was Emmett’s signature shoe.

But it couldn’t be him. Could it?

Strolling on the opposite side of the street, she tried to remain inconspicuous, but it didn’t matter. The couple was totally oblivious to everything going on around them. And then the woman took him by the collar, tugged him across the table, and kissed him.

A significant amount of time later, she released him. Grinning, the man leaned back in his chair. His face was now totally in Ruby’s view, and it was like a blow to the chest.

It
was
Emmett. Ruby forced herself to keep walking. She couldn’t confront him because she wanted to strangle him.

How could he do this to Meg?

Meg was happy; she’d told Ruby that things with Emmett were back on track. Perfect.

Her heart pounded behind her ears as she marched back to Market Street. How could he cheat like this, in broad daylight? Well, the bastard thought he’d never be seen on Maiden Lane, obviously. And it was just a fluke that Ruby had happened to be wandering by; she hadn’t been downtown in months.

But she had seen him. And now she fought the desire to run back there and slap him across the face.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm down. It wasn’t her place to confront Emmett. It would only make things worse. Her heart ached for her best friend; Meg’s world was about to come crashing down around her.

Oh, how she wished she didn’t have to tell Meg. But how could she not? Was she going to go to parties with the happy couple and pretend she didn’t know Emmett was fucking some blonde behind Meg’s back?

Ruby knew she had to say something. She could never live with herself if she kept this information inside. Meg needed to know her husband was having an affair.

On Powell Street, tears pricked at Ruby’s eyes. All the buses that went downtown did so via an underground route, and now as Ruby descended the stairs beneath Powell and Market, the crowded subterranean station closed in on her, making it hard to breathe.

Trembling, she waited on the edge of the platform for the bus to arrive. Soon a warm, artificial breeze blew her hair softly into her face, heralding the arrival of the N Judah line. She squeezed her way inside the bus, miraculously finding a seat at the very back.

Oddly, the scene she’d just witnessed made her want to see Mark even more. She realized she’d been searching for some stupid idea of what she wanted, but it was a fantasy. Emmett had just proved that. Life was unstable, no doubt about it. Perfection happened only on television. And Mark was right, the only time she’d even come close to achieving a sublime state was in his arms, when she gave herself to him, mind, body, and soul.

That was where she needed to be looking for perfection.

And yeah, being kinky was part of who she was. Hell, even Claire had accepted that about her. There was nothing left to be afraid of. Except, she realized, never seeing Mark again.

Chapter
Twenty-Seven

T
he limo dropped her off in front of the Four Seasons in Budapest.

Ruby didn’t even know what day it was. When she’d gotten home from shopping she’d discovered a one-way ticket to Hungary that had been slipped under her door, compliments of Mark. It was a lucky coincidence because she’d already planned on tracking him down. She wanted to hear for herself why he’d blown off the preparty, decide for herself if she could live with his behavior. She needed to hear him explain; she needed to take this chance.

So, here she was. They hadn’t talked; she barely had time to toss a few things into a bag before rushing to the airport, where she’d had to make a mad dash to her gate. But she’d made the flight, just in time. Mark had sprung for a first-class seat, so she’d even been able to sleep a bit. There had been a driver waiting for her when she landed, and now, not even twenty-four hours after she’d arrived home to find the ticket, she entered the Four Seasons of Budapest, a little tired but jazzed up. In a few moments, she was going to see Mark.

She shouldn’t be nervous; he’d been the one to send her the ticket. He knew she was here. So why were her palms sweaty? Why was her stomach twisting and turning? Why the hell should she be nervous to see a man who knew her far better than anyone else?

With a deep breath she willed her nerves to calm down. Her heels clicked on the marble floor as she crossed the lobby, and behind the reception desk, a scrawny man with a bad comb-over watched her approach.

“Do you speak English?” she asked hopefully. She hadn’t had time to buy a Hungarian phrase book.

“A little,” he said, and Ruby saw that he had kind eyes.

“Thank you! I’m looking for Mark St. Crow, please. Can you tell me what room he’s in?”

The man looked regretful. “I’m sorry, ma’am. We have no registered guest under that name.”

“But you didn’t even look it up.”

“Because I know we have no registered guest under that name.”

Of course Mark wouldn’t be registered under his own name. But how had he planned on her finding him? He hadn’t left any instructions for when she arrived.

“You are welcome to wait in our lounge, ma’am. Just in case,” the man said, waving to the side. Her gaze followed in the direction he pointed and landed on a dark-wood bar area, behind which dozens of liquor bottles sat on backlit shelves.

“Thank you,” she said. A cocktail suddenly sounded wonderful. She needed something to help calm the unease that had been churning a rancid knot in her gut since yesterday.

She’d tried Meg once again after arriving home, but her friend still hadn’t answered. Now, lack of sleep, a long travel day, and knowing she still had to talk to Meg about Emmett were making that knot in her stomach twist even tighter.

“A chocolate martini, please.” She settled onto a wooden stool and dug her cell phone out of her bag. She tried calling Mark, but it went straight to voice mail. Ignoring the nerves having a boxing match in her belly, she arranged her phone on the shiny wooden counter, where she could see it.

A few minutes later the bartender placed a chilled cocktail in front of her. Taking a deep sip, she savored the chocolaty drink, and of course it conjured up memories of that first night with Mark.

She still wondered how he’d instinctively known her, recognized what she needed, what she craved. How had he seen what had been a mystery even to herself? Well, he’d gone and unleashed something in her, something she could no longer suppress. If only he’d show up; she could start un-suppressing right then.

With the martini glass to her lips, she tilted another few drops onto her tongue. The tang of vodka mingled with the bittersweet chocolate, and she relished the combination as it slid down her throat.

Where was he? Obviously he knew when she was due to arrive. Was he even in the hotel? Maybe he was at a sound check, or whatever it was he did to prepare for a performance. He was a busy man. It was something she was going to have to get used to if they even had a chance.

She was about to order another drink when the sound of female laughter drew her attention. She looked to the hotel entrance, watched two young women enter the lobby. But she never registered what they looked like. Because, walking between them, with an arm draped over each of their shoulders, was Mark.

All the blood seemed to drain out of her body in a cold rush. Her throat went tight, capturing the shout that bubbled in her chest. Frozen, she watched as he led the women casually to the elevator and pushed a button.

His hand was in the hair of one of the girls, playing with it. Her own scalp tingled, remembering how his hands had felt there. She wanted to run to him; she wanted him to explain this horrible mistake.

But then they stepped inside the elevator, and she knew it wasn’t a mistake. Because just before the door shut she saw him bend down, saw the way his mouth moved toward the girl whose hair he held. Saw the way her eyelids lowered as his lips got closer to hers.

And just before their lips touched the elevator doors closed, shutting off her view of them.

Yet she couldn’t look away. Because it was wrong, it had to be. Maybe they were shooting a music video. Maybe the doors were going to open up again and Mark was going to emerge, laughing, and camera crews would appear and tell him they got the shot. And then he’d see her, his eyes would light up, and he’d come to her, take her in his arms and look at her in that way that melted her into a boneless mass whenever she was around him.

But when the elevator doors did finally open, it was only to let out a group of businessmen in navy blue suits.

Seeming to notice her distress, the bartender looked her way. “You need another one?” he asked.

“Y–yes, please. Several.”

He just quirked a brow as if to say “
crazy American
” and pulled some vodka off the shelf behind him.

Why had Mark sent her the plane ticket? Had he wanted her to see this? Had he wanted to hurt her? Her mind was whirling; she couldn’t think.

“You’re a real tough cookie.”

She looked up to find Yvette standing next to her. She wore tight jeans and a tank top with a picture of a lollipop that said, “It ain’t gonna lick itself.”

“What are you talking about?” Ruby asked.

Yvette ordered a beer before answering. “I mean, I don’t know any other woman who could say no to the man who wrote a love song for her. But you did, you tough cookie.”

Ruby gulped her martini before turning to Yvette. “Fat lot of good it did me. I just saw Mark headed upstairs with a couple of…
sluts
.” She nodded. “That’s right, I said it.
Sluts.
”

Yvette cringed. “Yeah, I didn’t mean that to happen. Bad timing, definitely.”

Ruby turned and faced Yvette head-on. “Yvette. What’s going on here?”

“I sent you the ticket.” She put a finger to her lips and made a
sshh
sound. “But our boy doesn’t know you’re here. I wanted to surprise him.”

“I’m gonna need another drink,” Ruby said, waving for the bartender.

“Good call.” Yvette slid onto the barstool next to Ruby. “See, I’m trying to be a good friend.”

“By bringing me to Budapest to have my heart broken?” Ruby said incredulously.

“Not a friend to you. Although I’m sure you’re quite nice. No, I was trying to be a friend to Mark. See, it was my fault we flaked on your preparty, so I was trying to make amends.”

“Your fault?”

“I made him miss the party, but it was for his own good.”

Ruby just stared and made a “Go on” motion with her hand.

“Oh. Okay. See, here’s the thing. He’s been absolutely miserable this last week. He’s pining; he’s moping. He’s been shot through the heart, and you’re to blame, baby; you give love a bad name!” She sang this last part as she played air guitar.

“You’re insane.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“Yvette,” Ruby said as if speaking to a child. “Why did you buy me this ticket?”

“Because the reason we missed the party was because I made him perfect that song. Before the show the three of us got out our instruments and we just got lost in the music. It’s really an amazing song, one of the best he’s written.”

Ruby was trying really hard not to lose it. Yvette was obviously a few cards short of a deck, but she seemed to have their best interests at heart. “Listen, I really appreciate the effort, but I think it’s misplaced.”

“Nah.”

“How can you say that? He just went upstairs with two bimbos!”

“I think one’s actually an astrophysicist. Or a stripper, I forget. Anyway, he’s just dealing with things the only way he knows how. Girls. Domination. Sex.”

The words caused a nauseous lurch in Ruby’s stomach. “I don’t care. He can do whatever he wants.”

“He mentioned he told you about his family.”

Blinking, she recovered from the quick change of subject. “A bit, yes.”

Yvette ordered another beer, then turned to her. “He hardly ever talks about them.”

Ruby paused. “Really?”

Ignoring the chilled glass the bartender provided, Yvette picked up the beer bottle and toyed with the label. “When he told me how much his dad resented his mom, it was when I first met him. And he was drunk.”

“So? What does it matter?”

“You haven’t known Mark long, but for him? That’s opening up. Big-time.” She tilted the beer bottle to her lips and took a deep swig.

Ruby’s phone rang, making her heart jump. “Mark?” She snatched her phone off the bar, not even looking at the caller ID.

“No, it’s Meg. I got your message. You’re in Budapest? What’s going on?”

Apologizing to Yvette, she excused herself and went to a table in the back of the bar, telling Meg how she’d been set up by Yvette. Then, taking a deep breath, she spewed out exactly what she’d seen Emmett doing on Maiden Lane.

“I’m so sorry, Meg,” Ruby said when she’d finished recounting the story.

“Oh, Ruby. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

“It’s not your fault!” Obviously, Meg was in shock and blaming herself.

“No, you don’t understand. God, this is embarrassing.” She heard her friend take a deep breath. “That was me.”

“No, the woman I saw was blonde. I’m sorry, Meg—”

“I was wearing a wig. God, it was such a bad wig, too. I can’t believe you didn’t know it was me.”

Ruby shook her head as if Meg could see her. “I don’t understand.”

Meg laughed nervously. “Okay, you remember how I told you that Emmett and I were having problems… sexual problems?”