I traced her hairline with my finger and kissed her again, sweeping deeply with my tongue, savoring her sweet taste and loving her gentle acceptance of me. But the kiss had to end eventually and there was still my monster to face.
I pulled up some bravery from somewhere and took a deep breath, rolling away onto my back and looking up at the skylight. The day had become as grey as my mood and it looked like rain was imminent. Right in tune with where my head was—all fogged up. Brynne stayed on her side, waiting for me to say something.
“I’m sorry for last night, and how I was with you afterward. I was overbearing and it was way too much.” I spoke softer. “Forgive me?”
“Of course I do, Ethan. But I want to understand why.” She reached out a hand and put it over my heart and left it there.
“That nightmare was from a time when I was in the SF. My team was ambushed, most of them killed. I was the senior officer and my weapon jammed. I got taken… The Afghans held me in interrogation for twenty-two days.”
She inhaled sharply. “Is that how you got the scars on your back? Did they do that to you?” Her voice was soft but I could hear the worry in her words.
“Yeah. They shredded my back with rope beatings…and other things.”
She gripped me a little tighter and I swallowed hard, feeling my anxiety rise but kept going on, feeling bad for misleading her but unable to correctly explain that my worst scars were not the ones on my back.
“I dreamed of something that—that happened…and it was a time when I thought I was going to be—” I stopped. My breath was coming so hard I couldn’t say anymore. I just couldn’t bring it up. Not to her.
“Your heart is pounding.” She put her lips over the place where that beating muscle pumped my blood and kissed. I put my palm on the back of her head and held her there, rubbing over her hair again and again. “It’s okay, Ethan, you don’t have to say anymore until you feel like you can. I’ll be here.” Her voice had that saddened tone again. “I don’t want you hurting more because of me.”
I stroked her cheek with the back of my finger. “Are you real?” I whispered.
She glimmered at me and nodded.
“When I woke up this morning and you were gone, I thought you might have left me because of that f**ked up situation last night and I just lost it. Brynne… I can’t be without you now. You know that, don’t you? I just cannot do it.” I fingered over the red mark on her shoulder where I nipped her with my teeth when I was in the throes of that volcanic orgasm at the sink. “I marked you up. I’m so sorry ‘bout that too.” I ran my tongue over the mark.
She shivered against my mouth. “Listen.” She took a hold of my face and held me. “I love you, and I want to be with you. I know I don’t say it all the time but that doesn’t mean I feel it less. Ethan, If I didn’t want to be with you, or I couldn’t be with you, I wouldn’t be…and you would know it.”
I exhaled with relief so great it took me a minute to find my voice. “Say that again.”
“I love you, Ethan Blackstone.”
10
Gladstone’s for lunch and Ivan was late. I don’t know why I bother trying to be punctual with my cousin because he certainly doesn’t. I checked my watch and looked around the room. Formerly a gentleman’s club in the past century, the place had been reanimated with white linens, lots of glass, and light woods, looking nothing like the exclusively male, societal enclave for the entitled Londoners of a hundred years ago.
Well, Ivan would certainly have fit in. My cousin was a peer of the realm even if he hated to be reminded and certainly didn’t act like it. None of us can help how we are born and Ivan couldn’t control that his father had been the previous Baron Rothvale any more than I could control that my dad drove a London cab. We had connections that went far deeper than money could ever take us anyway.
Who was I kidding? Ivan could drop off a cliff if he liked, I had two beautiful women at the table looking happy and gorgeous across from me—my girl and her best friend.
“You ladies look like shopping has agreed with you.” I poured for both of them from the Riesling I’d ordered.
Brynne and Gabrielle grinned and looked at each other conspiratorially, obviously sharing female secrets of a mystery I could only guess at. They’d been having a shopping excursion for dresses when I got a text from Brynne asking me what I was doing for lunch. Since they were only a few blocks over from Gladstone’s I told them to add on to my luncheon date with Ivan. I wanted to introduce him to Brynne anyway, hopeful that he could wield some influence over at the National Gallery for her. Hell, I’m not too proud to ask for a favour. Not that he would give a rip. The man was on the board of one of the most prestigious art museums in the world and couldn’t have cared less about it if he tried to. In fact, I am sure Ivan would resign if he could get away with it.
“It did, Ethan. Brynne got the most fabulous vintage dress for the Mallerton Gala. You just wait,” Gabrielle warned me.
I made a face. “So you’re saying she’ll be even more lovely than normal.” I looked at Brynne blushing and then back to Gabrielle. “Just what I need—more admirers chasing after her. I thought I could rely on you, Gabrielle, for just a smidge of help here?” I implored. “Why didn’t you take her to a place that sells unattractive bathrobes instead?” My words were joking but inside I was deadly serious. I hated when men looked at Brynne like they were picturing her naked.
Gabrielle shrugged. “Aunt Marie turned us on to the shop. That woman has mad skills with the unique and rare. Vintage little beauty that it is, tucked away in a quiet corner of Knightsbridge. I know I’ll be going back.” She smirked at me. “You need the competition anyway, Ethan, it’s good for you.” She took a sip of her wine and turned her attention to checking messages on her mobile.
“Not true. I’m struggling enough as it is, thank you very much!” I picked up Brynne’s hand and kissed it. “I’m glad you came for lunch.”
She just smiled at me and said nothing in that mysterious way of hers. I wished we were alone.
Gabrielle was a devoted friend from what I could tell, and fiercely protective of Brynne. We had an understanding that was workable as long as she saw me as friend and not foe—I’d passed the test so far. Beautiful too in her own right, just not my flavor of female. Her long brown hair, with just the faintest hint of dark red glinting through, combined with very green eyes, was striking. Nice figure too even if she wasn’t my flavor, I still had eyes in my head and wasn’t dead.
The color of her eyes reminded me of Ivan’s eyes. Same green. I wondered what he would think of her when he got a look, the womanizer that he was. I bet he would like her very much. I had to stifle a laugh. Gabrielle would probably tell him to sod off to his face and he would lick his lips and ask her to join him without a hitch. Would be a riot to watch if he ever got his arse here.
Brynne’s roommate was another American living in London, studying art at university, and making her way…away from home. Her dad was a British citizen though. London Met Pol—one Robert Hargreave, Chief Inspector, New Scotland Yard. I’d looked him up, and from all accounts he looked solid, a respected detective on the force. I supposed I should set up a meet with him at some point too. Although things had been very quiet on the Senator Oakley front. No news was good news…I hoped.