sharper than cut glass, curved his mouth as he pulled her toward him, two hundred pounds of intensity scorching her. “I’ve spent every waking moment of my life as a child haunted by the press. At seven, when my parents left me behind at a movie screening, at seventeen, when I was part of a criminal investigation. My childhood was like one of those bizarre reality shows based on Hollywood where nothing is sacred, nothing is left alone. Only it was my life that everybody was watching. I’ve been dragged through courts, have been studied like I was an exhibit at a zoo, have had stories written about me since I could barely talk. Enough fodder to last the press a lifetime. I don’t intend to give them any more.”
His face set into unyielding granite, he stood looking down on her. His words sounded as though they were coming from a dark place that warred with the cool exterior he presented to the world. His blue gaze glittered with pain. It robbed her of speech, questions she wanted to ask submerged beneath the overwhelming need to comfort him. “I walked away from that, made a different life for myself. But you know what? The shadow of it is never far behind. Do you know what that feels like? To have your every decision, every action studied, dissected under a microscope for even the smallest of mistakes, to know that the whole world, including your own damn parents, is waiting for you to fall.”
She laughed, her bitterness spilling over into that sound. “Obviously, you don’t know everything about me.”
“I do. But you bring it on yourself with your reckless, indiscriminate behavior.”
She flinched, each word a sharp twist in her side.
A hint of softness entered his eyes, and he moved closer to her. As though he regretted his remark. Yet whatever she had imagined, it was gone in a fleeting second. A mirage.
What was she doing? She was seeing things she wanted to see in him, letting her mind pull her down into an alternate reality. For some reason, she wanted to find a chink in him, something that would level the field between them. She was instantly at a disadvantage with anyone she met, her past a sword hanging over her head. And she didn’t care, or at least she had painstakingly trained herself to not care. But with Alexander, she realized with a sinking sensation, all bets were off.
“Why do we have to go anywhere?” she said, hating the note of anxiety in her voice. She grabbed his wrists, ready to beg. She didn’t know which haunted her more. The prospect of going back to Paris, or the looming pretense that she was his wife. Only a few hours in his company and she already felt as if she was coming apart at the seams, her armor already cracking. At least, here in his vast mansion, she needn’t see the man unless absolutely necessary. “Why can’t we just stay here until she’s back and then you two can jet off to wherever you want?”
It was the hint of pleading in Olivia’s words that hauled Alexander out of his own private hell. Until now, she had been all fire and lightning, like a Caribbean thunderstorm. Yet now, with her lush mouth pinched, she seemed anything but.
Reluctant concern sliced through him. No one wanted to re-visit their scene of crime. He understood that better than anyone. But he didn’t have a choice, either. For more than ten years, he had kept himself out of the trash rags, taken care of his sister, and forged a different life. He didn’t intend to let anyone wreck his life or his sister’s, not the press, not his mother. “Because I have obligations, Olivia, people who can’t wait to see me in Paris with my loving wife in tow.
“If word leaks out that you stood next to me instead of Kim at the ceremony, we’ll become exclusive features on every damn channel, on every social media site. Not only will they hound me, but they will make your sister’s life and yours, a living hell. So, if I have to endure your company until I can do damage control, I’ll do it. And seeing the countless number of times your sister has saved your delectable ass, I would think you can bear my company a few more days, for her.”
CHAPTER FOUR
NOTHING WAS WORKING.
Olivia blew at the stubborn lock of hair that kept falling into her eyes, and pulled her hair into a high ponytail with a vicious tug. She drew another picture on her notepad, her pencil flying on the paper and began to think of words for the pitch. The launch of Lifestyle Inc.’s sportswear geared toward everyday life was going to be one of the biggest launches of next fall. If she could bag the advertising contract for their agency, her career would finally be on the right track.
Her initial pitch to use social media for the ad campaign was what had resulted in their agency being shortlisted. Yet all the ideas that had been floating around her head seemed very insubstantial when she put them to paper. With a grunt, she tore off the pages she had so far and scrunched them up in her hands.
She knew in her bones that it was this place, this city they were in. The minute they had stepped off Alexander’s private jet, it felt as though the iron lid she kept over her memories had been pried open by the warm summer breeze. She had just stood there, looking around her, transported back in time, the scents and sounds around her assaulting her. She had taken a breath of relief, when upon arriving at his penthouse, he had excused himself. She had grabbed her notepad and sketches and retreated to the spare bedroom. She had been hiding since they’d arrived last night and all morning, venturing only into the kitchen for sustenance.
But there was no escape inside her own mind. Jacques’s face kept pushing itself into her thoughts as though she had kissed him, begged him to not leave her yesterday instead of six years ago. Sweat beaded on her brow, her stomach a twisting void.
She had done everything in her power to keep him, to make Jacques love her, yet he had left her, trampled her heart into so many pieces. The same question she hadn’t been able to answer that night or ever since haunted her waking thoughts now. She slapped her hands on her cheeks and shook her head, groaning, as though she could hold the devastating thought at bay.
But all her defenses crumbled like cardboard paper as it wound its way into her head.
Whatever she did, however much she tried, there were some things she couldn’t change about herself. She couldn’t...
No. She couldn’t do this to herself. She cursed and swiped the tears pooling in her eyes. She had cried enough tears to last her a lifetime.
Scrolling through her BlackBerry, she read the text she had received from Kim early morning for the hundredth time. I’m okay. Can’t make it back yet. Am so sorry.
The short message didn’t tell Liv anything. The fleeting hope that she could get out of here soon died with it. She threw her bedroom door open and walked into the living room, refusing to indulge in miserable speculations that she already knew the answer to.
Alexander nodded at her from the couch, a sheaf of papers in his hand. He had been perversely silent all through the flight yesterday and even after they’d landed. Almost as if he knew how close to the surface her emotions were teetering. One wrong word from him and she would have clocked him. But of course, he hadn’t given her that satisfaction. Instead, he had been a perfect gentleman all day.
She meant to ignore him but her gaze inevitably drifted down his body as he rose from the couch. Tight black jeans hugged his powerful thighs and dear God, the man had a taut behind she could ogle for hours. His gray V-necked tee stretched across the muscular contours of his chest, the short sleeves revealing strong forearms.
Heat crept up her neck as he neared her in a quick movement, the awareness of her perusal shining in his eyes. Her skin felt too tight on her body. He tilted his head sideways and studied her. “Are you approachable now?”
She shrugged and turned, glad that he hadn’t mentioned her checking him out. The shards of grief that had dulled her mind into numbness mere seconds ago dissolved away.
Forbidden lust—1, gut wrenching grief—0.
Turning away from the captivating sight of him, she walked around the hall. Cream marble floors gleamed under her feet enhanced by white walls. Simple, sleek, red furniture dotted around the living room punctured the austerity of the pristine white. Understated luxury yet tasteful at the same time with a hint of warmth that had