Catch My Breath (14 page)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Someone kept talking to me. Their voice floated around me like a halo, penetrating my senses. I opened my eyes, a flash of red catching my attention. It was my shoe. One of my ruby sparkled heels laid on its side on the bone white floor. I didn’t even know I’d taken it off. Painful, deep breaths burned my lungs as I tried to compose myself. The floor was hard and cold, but something warm and soothing held me close.

He’s here. It can’t be.

“Are you okay, love?”

Hearing Alastair’s voice sent me into a tailspin. I tensed, choking back a sob. A feathery kiss landed on my forehead, beckoning me to look up. He knelt in front of me, concern bleeding from saucer-sized emerald eyes.

“You’re here,” I whispered.

“That I am,” he replied, wiping away my tears. “Can you stand?”

“I…yeah, I think so.”

Straightening his lean frame, he offered a hand to me. I held it, standing on shaky legs. Dull pain rattled through my left ankle. It dawned on me that I was uneven.
Right, my shoe
. Still holding Alastair’s hand, I turned to locate the sparkly heel.

“Here. I’ll get it.”

He bent down and picked it up, handing to me. I held it for a few seconds, not entirely sure if I wanted to put it on.

“You can take the other one off, if that’s more comfortable.”

“No, I have to go back to…Cynthia is supposed to give her speech and…”

“That’s not important right now.”

“What? I’m working. It’s my job to make sure…“ A weird murkiness clouded my vision. Putting my shoe back on took longer than necessary.

“I’m sure the organizers have everything under control. What’s important now is getting you out of this hallway and somewhere comfortable.”

The fact that he was right irked me. I wanted nothing more than to climb into bed, wrap myself in layers of blankets and shut out the world. Fatigue draped itself over me, making me woozy. Alastair’s fingers tickled my arm before holding my hand.

“Let’s go.”

I was too drained and scattered to argue. I let him lead me through the lobby to the elevators. He dug in his pocket for a key card, slipped it into a slot next to the floor numbers and pressed the button for the penthouse suite. It didn’t even faze me. Where else would he stay?

The doors slid open, revealing a private hallway.

"Come with me." Alastair tugged my hand and walked the very short distance to the suite door. He held it open as I tentatively walked in.

Beautiful views of Orlando were visible from the large dining and living area. Plush furniture in earthy hues of creams, blues and tans filled the room. Alastair removed his jacket and laid it on the table, then loosened his tie and untucked the tails of his shirt. Everything had happened so quickly downstairs; I didn’t even notice his impeccable black suit.

“Are you alright?” he asked as we settled onto the couch.

“I’m fine.”

“Lia,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Your ex-boyfriend assaulted you in that hallway. You are not
fine
.”

Unbridled anger flared from his eyes as he looked at the bright red markings along my arm. A faint bruise was starting to bloom in vivid purples and blues. I covered it up with my hand.

“Can we not talk about this now, please?”

Tears welled in my eyes again. They were hot and frantic, ready to unravel me in front of him. My lungs constricted and burned, making it difficult to maintain control of my emotions.
I will not let him see me this vulnerable.

“Why are you here, anyway?”

He exhaled slowly. “I emailed you and told you I’d be here starting Thursday to visit with the news director and vice president at WTDO. I emailed you several times this past week. Did you not get any of them?”

“I deleted them.”

He nodded, seeming to know the reason why.

“Fair enough.”

We sat in silence for quite some time. Neither one of us moved, let alone looked at the other. Being in the same space as him again reignited all the sparks I’d extinguished after leaving Glasgow. There was a definite hum in the atmosphere. I pulled at the layered ruffles on my dress. The skin Nathan had touched crawled, making me nauseous. Stealing a glance at Alastair, I noticed he was fidgeting with his onyx cufflinks. Other than that small movement, he remained stoic.

I couldn’t get the image of him throttling Nathan out of my mind.

“Why did you do that?"

“Do what?” he asked, staring at the floor.

“Put yourself in a position to get the shit beaten out of you.”

The cushions shifted under his weight.

"My well-being isn't important," he responded, staring blankly at me. "That bastard had his hands on you and needed to be stopped."

"I can handle myself with him. He—“

“Can you?” Hard, stony eyes tore through me. “He’s twice your size and had you pinned to a wall. He overpowered you and would have done God knows what to you if—“

“You shouldn’t have put him in a chokehold,” I shouted. “He would have no problem bashing your face in, given the chance. You need to think about that the next time you sweep in to save the day.”

"I told you, my well-being isn't important," he said, fixing his gaze on me. It was blistering and made me lose my train of thought. I didn’t want to argue with him. Not after all that happened downstairs.
If he hadn’t been here…
The thought was too much to bear.

Exhaustion cloaked me, both mental and physical. The cushions were so soft they nearly swallowed me up. All I wanted to do was crawl into my bed. I felt Alastair curl up next to me. He draped his arm across my shoulders, tucking me securely into his side. His other arm snaked around my waist, holding me tight. Overcome by emotion, I choked back another sob. I didn’t realize how much I needed to be held.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His breath tickled my temple. I snuggled into his warmth, feeling safe and protected. Half an hour must have passed before I raised my head, meeting his soft gaze. I’d seen that look before, but only a handful of times. It quickened my heartbeat and…

He kissed me. It was so sudden and passionate; it left me breathless. Lacing my fingers behind his head, I leaned back, pulling him into the cushions. The intensity of his desire shocked and amazed me. Far beyond his yearning, I felt his fear. The force was astronomical, as though he thought I’d disappear if he let me go.

Gasping, he jumped back.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that," he stammered, getting up.

First he folded his arms, then planted his hands on his hips, pacing in front of the couch. I ran my finger over my burning lips, watching him. The placid exterior that he so carefully kept under control was cracked. It lasted only for a second though. I witnessed the subtle shift in his expression as he reattached the protective shield that blocked any entrance to his deepest thoughts.

“Sarah didn’t go with me to the party. We happened to arrive at the same time.”

The hairs on my nape stood up. I wanted to believe him.

“Convenient,” I snickered.

He stopped pacing, holding out his hands. Refusing to give in to him so easily, I crossed my legs and remained on the couch.

“Come to me. Please.” He reemphasized the fact that his hands were outstretched.

“Fine,” I muttered, grabbing them as I stood.

Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, his look penetrated through me.

“It was convenient. For her, not me. I wanted it to be you on my arm in that photo.” He trailed a finger along my cheek and down my neck. Softness filled his eyes once again, making my heart race.

“You were so distant when you dropped me off at the airport. I figured you didn’t want to talk to me again. The way you were looking at me, it was like…I knew as soon as I let you go, you’d disappear.” I nearly choked on the words.

A haunted expression ghosted across his face, clouding his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

He kissed me again, his lips now a familiar warmth that I craved. I slipped my hands under his shirt, grazing my nails along his back. The low growl that vibrated in his throat was such a damn turn on. I kissed him harder. He responded immediately, tasting and worshipping me. Savoring every move, I held him tighter.

His entrance into my life was so thorough and…
right.

Hovering his lips over mine, he leaned back. Not wanting to let go, I nibbled on his bottom lip, eliciting another moan from him. Subtle flashes of vulnerability passed through his eyes. Somehow, I knew I was the only one who had ever seen it. Just as he’d done with mine, I was the only one who’d broken through his shell.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked.

I didn’t know if I was or not. Being in his arms helped. “I’ll be fine.”

“Seeing him hurt you,” he pulled our foreheads together, “made me want to rip to his head off. You don’t deserve to be treated that way.”

Exhaling sharply, I pressed a kiss to his mouth.

“Lia. You make me…” he whispered, swallowing hard.

“Tell me,” I whispered back.

Shaking his head, he broke our embrace.

“We need to sort this out,” he cleared his throat. “You know my position on relationships.”

Great. Back to the whole
I-don’t-date-I-just-get-laid
thing.
Way to kill the mood, Holden.

“I’ve wracked my brain since you left Glasgow trying to figure out how I can see you again,” he eyed me cautiously. “I don’t play games, Lia. I don’t like coy answers. But I don’t…I don’t ever do relationships. This is-”

“Listen, I don’t want to be a convenient plaything for you or anyone,” I blurted out. “Sex is just sex. I want it to mean something.”

God, I was so frustrated. The night had been draining enough; I didn’t need his ridiculous hang-ups to complicate things even more. Nothing had changed since Glasgow. He was still messing with my head. I felt like I was being pulled in twenty different directions.

“That sounds reasonable enough. I’m not asking you to be a plaything, Lia. I don’t want that. And I certainly don’t want other men pursuing you if I can help it.”

The strength of his dark stare left me speechless.
He doesn’t want anyone else pursuing me? It’s not like I have a line forming down the street.
Logic finally cleared the fog from my brain.

“Right, I forgot. You just get what you want and move on to the next one.”

He steeled his expression. “That’s not fair. You make me sound cold and calculating.”

And very direct.
I’d never encountered anyone who approached relationships or sex like this. He viewed it in such a clinical way; no attachment, only physical satisfaction. If he’d been any other guy I’d have kicked his ass halfway to Australia by now.

I make him what?

“Look at me,” he murmured, tipping up my chin. “Can we at least try this? Give me that.”

That friggin accent had special, superhuman powers. I never pegged myself to be one of those girls who swooned over anything, but dammit, the way he spoke was so flipping sexy.

“You live in Scotland. I live here. How would this even work?”

The corners of his mouth perked up into a smile. It was the first time I’d seen him do that all night.

“Someone asked me once if I used my plane for anything other than business trips. Starting now, I do.” He kissed my forehead. "If I were to ask you out, on a proper date, what would you say?"

“Isn’t that against,” I made air quotes, “the rules?”

He shrugged. "I'm making an exception."

"A proper date? What does that mean exactly?"

"It means I take you somewhere nice, like a fancy restaurant or the opera.”

The opera? Oh, Alastair.

He tapped his foot, giving me a look.

“I’m okay with, you know, dinner, a movie and a stroll through the park or something.”

“Long walks on the beach, too?” He lifted an eyebrow, stifling a laugh.

“Cheeky,” I grinned, playfully shoving him. The lightened mood didn’t last long. His expression grew serious.

“Promise me something?”

"Okay."

"If your ex gives you any trouble again, let me know."

"Alastair, that’s—“

"I'm serious," he interrupted. "I will not have him treating you like that. Ever. Promise you'll tell me."

Swallowing hard, I searched his probing eyes. The veil was locked in place again, but there was also a firm resolve behind them.

"Okay, fine."

“Good. Now, come with me.”

He turned and walked toward the master bedroom. I stood, frozen in place. Too much had happened tonight, I wasn’t ready for more. Anxiety churned through my body making me break out into a cold sweat.

“It’s not what you think, love. I want to do something for you. Come.”

Standing in the doorway with his hand outstretched, he looked so sincere. I went to him, no longer anxious about what he wanted. He led me toward the bed, turning me so I faced him.

“Please take off your dress and your shoes.”

I stiffened. “You said this—“

He pressed a finger against my mouth, silencing me.

“I did and it’s not.”

Sliding his finger off my lips, he reached around my back and pulled down the zipper. His eyes were bolted to mine the entire time. Leaning his cheek against mine, he whispered, “Trust me.”

What did I have to lose? He’d already seen me in my underwear once, and that was in a drunken stupor. Nodding, I let him glide the material over my shoulders, feeling the dress skim down my body. It pooled at my feet.

“Hold my shoulders,” he said, crouching down. I did, but looked at him funny. He grinned, tapping my right foot.
Of course. Shoes.
He removed each heel, then looked up at me.

“Do you want to keep these on?” he asked, running his finger over my thigh-highs. I nodded.

“Alright.” He sat on the edge of the bed, patting it. “Lie on your stomach, please.”

Hesitating briefly, I obliged. Moving some of the pillows out of the way, I stretched out, sighing into the mattress. The bed moved as Alastair repositioned himself.