Uncovering You 5: Confessions (17 page)

I settle back. There’s a certain comfort knowing I’m being looked after by such a capable man. By Jeremy. Not by Rose, not by Stonehart, but by
Jeremy
.

I also find his concern to be very sweet. Nobody could fake such dedication. If he truly hasn’t left my side once…

“Where were you when I woke up?” I ask suddenly.

“On the phone. Outside. I was about to order a chopper flown in to take you to a hospital. It’s lucky you woke up when you did.

“Manuela checked on you when I brought you here. The islanders have more experience with water than anybody I know. They have to. Their lives revolve around it. When I told her what had happened, she examined you, and assured me you’d be fine. Eventually. But God knows what happened to you underwater. I couldn’t tell if you hit your head or had a concussion. There wasn’t any visible sign of damage, but still…”

He trails off, his jaw muscles working as he looks away. He seems to be on the verge of admitting something, maybe doing something, but is struck by indecision.

“Still what?” I ask quietly.

“Still, I didn’t want to take the risk,” he finally admits. By his expression and tone, I know that’s not what he wanted to say originally. “I didn’t know how you’d react if you woke up and found yourself in a hospital room. That was the last thing I wanted to subject you to.”

Because a hospital bed puts me outside of your control
, I think.

I keep my mouth shut.

"Manuela insisted that you’d be fine. But, every hour that passed put me more and more on edge. I set a deadline. If you didn’t improve by nine tonight, I’d call the helicopter in.”

“What time is it now?”

Stonehart leans forward and kisses my forehead. “Eight-twenty. You really know how to keep a man on edge.”

“Huh.” I look at the ceiling and consider everything he’s said. Another half-hour, and I’d have been airlifted to Florida.

Is it a good thing that I woke up when I did? I don’t know. Truth be told, coming to in a hospital room probably
would
have been traumatic. I’d have no idea how to act. What would I do, in my current state of mind, if I found myself surrounded by doctors and nurses and other people? What would they think about the collar? What would I be
allowed
to say? Would the brooch be on?

Maybe it’s for the best that I woke up now. This way, there’s no uncertainty. This way, I can stick to my original plan, without being tempted by new possibilities.

“There’s something I’ve been waiting to do,” Stonehart says, breaking into my thoughts. “I made the decision as I was carrying you back.”

“Oh?” I look up at him, and see his unquestionable sincerity. My heart begins to flutter, just a little bit. “What?”

“One second.” Stonehart glances over his shoulder. “I think you’ve got guests.”

I lift my head and see Luciana peeking in from the door.

“Esta buena,” Stonehart says. “Tell your family she wants to see them.”

Luciana nods and runs off. Moments later, I’m surrounded by the family, relief mingling with concern on their features.

Manuela gives me something cold to drink, and helps bring the cup to my lips. Then she scolds her children for being too loud. I don’t understand the words, but I can tell by their reaction.

I ask Stonehart to let her know that they’re not a problem. He does, but still, after only a few minutes, Manuela takes everyone away and leaves me alone with Stonehart once again.

“I think you’re their new favorite,” he mutters as the door closes. “You’ve surpassed even me.”

“I doubt anybody can ever do that,” I say. “They owe their lives to you.”

Kind of like I do
.

“Hmm.” He gazes at the door. After a minute, he walks over and locks it. “I don’t want any interruptions,” he says.

He turns to face me. There’s a serious, almost solemn expression on his face. I’ve never seen Stonehart stressed—until now.

He looks visibly tired. That is by far a first.

It makes me realize that, somewhere deep down, he really is just a man. Sure, he can act the monster. He can be completely heartless and cold and without compassion… but all those faults come from somewhere. From some base that drives him to do what he does.

Stonehart is complicated. Nobody would ever deny that. Hell, even people who’ve only known him from afar would agree. But, I’ve seen all the different sides of him. I’ve seen him cold. I’ve seen him angry. I’ve seen him domineering, volatile, and unpredictable.

I’ve also seen him sweet. I’ve seen the kindness he is sometimes capable of. It’s not enough to overcome all the things he’s done that exist at the other end of the spectrum. However, it’s somehow reassuring to know that Yes, the capacity for kindness is still there. It hasn’t been wiped away by the persona he’s built for himself.

“Lilly.” He says my name tenderly. Like a true lover. His voice, which has always held such power over me, affects me in the most primitive way.

I can’t help but respond to it. It reaches into my soul and tugs on my very heartstrings—especially when my name comes from his lips, sounding like that.

“Yes?’ I whisper. My heart is fluttering unsteadily in my chest. It adds to the anticipation of what it so come. I have no idea what that might be, but some intuition borne of being so long around Stonehart tells me it’s not going to be bad.

“When you were out,” he begins, walking slowly toward me, “I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t eat. My thoughts revolved solely around you. And all I felt was this overwhelming guilt.
I did this
, I told myself.
I am the one at fault
.”

I shake my head. “It’s not like that. I don’t blame you! It was an accident. I slipped and fell. Besides…” I swallow, remembering his arms catching me underwater, “…you saved me.”

“You wouldn’t have been in a position to need saving if it hadn’t been for me!”

The outburst makes me shy back. He looks pained now, and angry. I can tell, however, that—for the first time—he’s not angry with me, but with himself.

He takes a deep breath that makes his chest swell. “I’m sorry,” he says. “You know how I hate to yell. But Lily, around you… I feel emotions coming to life inside me that I haven’t felt in years. In
decades
.”

He sits on the side of the bed. He runs one hand through his hair, and looks into the distance when he speaks. The low light adds gravity to his words.

“You have to understand… who I am,” he says. “And I cannot tell you everything. Not now. Not yet.

“But once I told you a story of my past. Of my father, of my brothers. I have not spoken to them since I was a teenager, you know.

“My whole life has been built around vengeance. I know it’s a horrible thing to say, but I’m not one to mince words. Honesty, especially with yourself, is critical for a man of my position.

“I never thought I’d be admitting these things to another soul. I’m…” his long fingers tighten on the edge of the mattress, and he swallows, then he turns even farther away from me. “I’m not ready yet, Lilly. All I ask of you is a little patience. With me. Please.”

He sounds so very sincere. No man can act this well. I decide that, holy shit, he
is
sincere.

I reach out and place one hand on top of his. He moves his head slowly, as if it’s a great weight, and follows, from the shoulder down, the length of his arm. His eyes settle on our linked fingers. Then, after a somber moment, he raises his gaze to mine.

When I see his dark pupils, reflected in the flickering light, disbelief fills me. It might just be a trick of the dark, but I think that, for a moment, his eyes are actually glistening. Wet. As in, with tears.

He looks away before I can get a better read on it. But that brief glance is enough to make me feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.

Stonehart, crying? Stonehart, showing one of the most genuine of human reactions?

I can’t believe it.

He flips his hand over and takes hold of mine. Warmth creeps up my arm.

“I can do that,” I say softly.

“Thank you,” he says. Then he continues. “I wanted revenge against my father. I got that. I wanted revenge against my brothers. I got that, too. My life has been predicated on seeing justice done to those who’ve wronged me. It is what made me who I am. I offer no apologies for my actions. I live without regret. The only way to do that, however, is to bar yourself from the world. To live without emotion, without compassion. Without… love.”

Abruptly, he stands. He begins to pace the room, his jaw clenching and unclenching between his stunted sentences.

“I did it all, you know. Everything I’ve ever wanted. I got for myself. The chips began to fall into place with the founding of Stonehart Industries. The name—that name—” he laughs without humor, “—was a childhood dream. I hated my real last name.
Hated
it. You know why, Lilly? Because I owed it to my father. Because it was a constant reminder of my link to him.

“Well, as soon as I could, I severed that link. I cut all ties to my family. To everyone… except the one person who treated me right. Except my mother.”

“Do you still speak with her?” I ask.

“She’s dead.”

A deep silence fills the room. I feel ill. Queasy. What was I thinking, asking such a stupid question?

Stonehart walks to the cabinet and leans over it, supporting himself with his arms. He looks over his shoulder at me. The tears—the imagined tears?—are gone.

“Yes, Lilly, she’s dead, and I was unable to prevent it. I could have helped her. If only I hadn’t been so goddamned weak. So goddamned stupid. I could have saved her!”

“When?” I ask gently.

He snorts a sour chuckle. “More than twenty years ago. Not long after you were born. If I’d had five more years… hell, if I’d had
three
… I could have changed things. Maybe she would still be around today. But I did not have the power, twenty years ago, that I command today.

“I’m not talking about doctors or medical bills, Lilly. You know my father was rich. He had the means. My mother’s death did not come from a want of resources. It came from something else. Something… more ominous. A type of madness—though none but I see it that way.

“Anyway.” He shoves off and shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant to tell you. This isn’t supposed to be about me. It’s supposed to be about you. But…” He exhales, “…for you to understand, it
has
to be about me. Don’t you see? You, and your effect on me.”

Stonehart takes another deep breath. “Maybe it’s not about me any longer. Maybe it’s about
us
. I’ve never thought, before, of existing as a cohesive unit, as being reliant on another person. I’ve never thought of a relationship as worth more than just sex. And you know,” he smiles, “that I have an insatiable appetite for that.”

Heat floods my cheeks. He’s certainly right in that regard.

“My mother’s death propelled me ever farther into the depravity I was building for myself. I had nothing left, so I attacked the world with a single-minded ferocity. I built my empire because it was all I could do.

“But it was more than that, Lilly. I found that I thrived on the competition. I thrived living on the edge. Building Stonehart Industries from the ground consumed me. It gave me purpose. It gave me goals. Clear, definable goals, where success could be measured in dollars and cents.”

He chuckles. “Well. Maybe not cents. It’s been a long time since I worried about cents.”

“Material possessions were all I craved. I got all those. When I was younger, I thought they’d be enough to satisfy me. You’ve seen but a glimpse of the splendor I’m talking about. Cars, yachts, jets. Estates in the country, in the mountains, apartments all over the word. New York, Paris, Sydney, Crete. Clothing. Beautiful women—most paid, some not. The reason for that,” he clarifies, “is so that there could never be emotional attachment. Not from my end. I was never at risk for it. But
theirs
. Professional… models from Sweden, from Russia, from the East… also view sex as a business transaction.

“That’s all I wanted. No complications. No feelings. No histrionics.”

He sits down on the side of the bed. “I’ve had stalkers, Lilly. More than a handful. That is why I live the way I do. That is why my California estate is so secluded. What young, beautiful, but down-on-her-luck woman wouldn’t want to be with me? What lengths would she not go through to nab the CEO of Stonehart Industries?

“I know who I am. I know my success makes me a magnet for the worst type of women. In my thirties… I made the mistake of letting one in. She almost ruined me.”

“What happened?” I ask softly.

“Nothing relevant for you, my Lilly-flower,” he says gently. Sweetly. “Especially because I vowed never to make a mistake like that again. I vowed, and I stuck to it. But this…” he turns over, and lowers himself beside me, “…us…
you
… This is no mistake.”

His fingers brush my arm. I shiver.