A Reckless Note (Brilliance Trilogy #1) - Lisa Renee Jones Page 0,62
be. I want you to enjoy everything that’s in those bags. And we can exchange anything that you don’t like or doesn’t fit. I want you to love it all.”
I glance at the bags, one of which reads Gucci and the other, Chanel. “There’s a lot of money in those bags, Kace.”
He waves that off. “I’m not worried about the money.”
“I am.” Embarrassment begins to burn in my belly. He saw the Goodwill label. I know he did. “You saw the tag on my dress, didn’t you?”
“I want to do this for you.”
In other words, he did. “I know you saw the label on my dress. I don’t need or want your charity.”
His mood spikes in the air and he cups my face. “That’s what you think this is?”
My hand flattens on his chest. “I don’t spend a lot of money on myself. I don’t need you to do it either. I’m here for you, not your money. And why would you even want me here, if you thought it was the money? I need my dress back.”
“I want to do this for you,” he repeats, his voice steel that is somehow brushed with tenderness. “Not to make you feel obligation or guilt. To make you happy. And because I greedily want you with me.”
He wants me with him. There is a rasp to those words, a ring of truth. I believe him. And that matters. “I don’t need fancy things. I can’t stand the idea of you thinking I’m with you one moment because of your money. I’m not that girl.”
Something flickers in his eyes, and he cuts his stare, seconds ticking by before he meets my gaze again. “I know that, Aria.” His thumbs stroke my cheeks. “I know.”
But he doesn’t know. He can’t know. In that moment, I discover yet another thing I know about this man and he about me. When you hold a prize in your hand, a gift, a wonder of the world that holds value, the entire world wants it and you. There is no peace to be found. Everyone around you could have an agenda, could want what you have. And with that I find yet another reason that I am drawn to him. He doesn’t know what is real in his life any more than I know what is real in mine. And somehow there is a sanctuary in two like souls haunted by demons of the same evil.
“I’m only here for you, Kace,” I say.
“And I am only here for you, Aria.”
“Thank you for the gifts.”
He studies me for several untold moments, unreadable, he is always so unreadable, and then he kisses me, a slide of his tongue that I feel everywhere before he says, “Hurry and get ready. We only have an hour and a half to get there. That means you have an hour to go through the bags and get ready.” He sets me away from him and doesn’t give me time to argue. He heads to the door and disappears into the hallway.
He does not shut the door.
And neither do I.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The bags are filled with everything a girl could possibly ask for: makeup, a flat iron, hair and bath products, several pairs of heels and boots, lingerie, and plenty of clothes. I try not to look at the price tags, but it’s hard not to. Just one bra is two hundred dollars, which is insanity. Searching for the items I absolutely need becomes my new goal. The rest can be returned. I start digging through everything and despite the worthy goal, I’m drawn to a Chanel box for one simple reason: my mother loved Chanel, though we didn’t have the income for it once we fled Italy. Nevertheless, the brand stirs memories of her and I quickly remove the lid of the box to suck in air, shocked at what I find. It’s impossible. I cannot be seeing what I’m seeing, but I am. The purse that I’m staring at is not just a purse. It’s pink, a classic recently brought back, but it is also familiar. My mother owned this exact purse. My father bought it for her before we left Italy and even years later, that bag had been in pristine condition. She adored it. It was a connection to him she cherished. She had it with her the day she died and it was never recovered.
Once again, Kace has managed to become a piece of my past. I swallow hard and slide