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“Okay,” I whisper.
He takes a deep breath and the look in his gaze intensifies. "I'll fight for you, Aly, till I know there's nothing left to fight for. I've waited a long time to have you here in my arms, giving me a shot, and I'm not the type of man to walk away. But you've got to sort out whatever it is that you have with the man who has you holding back from me, from us." He pauses, giving me a gentle squeeze before tearing my heart open a little more. "But don't for one minute doubt my feelings for you. I'll wait a lifetime if it means making you mine. I can't do it when I don't know what—or who—I'm up against. I deserve all of you, just like you deserve all of me."
“No . . .” I gasp, the growing lump in my throat threatening to suffocate me. “I need you, Aiden. I don’t know why he does this to me.”
“Then find out, beautiful, because I finally got you, and I’m not going to lose you now.”
“You won’t,” I reply immediately, but my broken voice gives me away.
“Aly, take some time. You know where he is. You can get all the answers you need now, and when you know who you truly want, I’ll only be a phone call away.”
“And a flight,” I joke half-heartedly.
“And that.” Then he dips his head and gives me the slowest, most gentle, mind-bending kiss, his tongue sweeping into my mouth with a soft caress before pulling back. Then he steadies me and lets me go, bending down to pick up his bag before turning around and walking away.
And in doing so, the cataclysmic time bomb that has been silently ticking away in my chest detonates, blowing everything I thought I knew it wanted into smithereens.
ChapterEleven
Aiden didn’t call. I’d sent him a text message to check that he’d arrived home safely with the hope it might spark a conversation he’d be more comfortable having over the phone. It didn’t.
I met with my legal team on Monday morning, and they told me the news I didn't want to hear. In short, if my mother chooses to sign over her voting rights to Gavin for whatever reason, he would have the power to remove me as the head of the company. To stop this from happening, my only course of action was to make sure Mom didn’t give Gavin any power within Jacobs Publishing.
But before I can confront her with my doubts about her new husband, I need proof.
To get that proof, I need to talk to the man who has plagued my thoughts since the moment I met him. So I’m trying to work myself up to using the information in Harrison’s file and tracking Barrett down.
On Tuesday, I send Aiden a text and get no reply. That solidifies my resolve. I know what to do, it’s exactly what he said. I need to get Barrett out of my system and the only way I’m going to do that is to confront him. I need to find out exactly what happened between us in Vegas and why I’m inadvertently involved in his case. He’s also the only person who can give me the indisputable ammunition I need to protect my father’s legacy and my mother as well.
By Wednesday, I know I can’t put it off anymore. Seeing him again is inevitable. I need to see him—and if I’m honest with myself, not just for my Mom and the company. It’s for my own sanity, because if I keep spending my nights staring at that damn piece of paper with his address on it, then I will end up losing my mind. And that won’t help anyone.
That's why I'm standing outside the dark brown wooden door of his apartment, my clammy hands fisted at my side, my heart pounding like a drum against my chest. Being so close to seeing him again has all the anger and hurt and shame he'd made me feel bubbling right up to the surface. Yet I find myself desperate for answers more than anything else. Most of all, I want to know how spending only a few hours with this man has led to my life being flipped on its head.
I need to know the truth, even if the truth destroys me.
Before that trip to Vegas, I was comfortable and settled. I had my work, and I had Aiden—albeit I wasn’t being honest with either of us about my feelings. I was happy, I was good. Everything was right in my world.
My thoughts are interrupted when the door opens and in front of me stands the man of the hour. He’s wearing a fitted navy blue tee and loose-hanging sweat pants sitting low on his hips. I’ve never seen him so casual, and I stare at him unmoving for a few seconds until he clears his throat.
My eyes shoot up to his face to meet his blank ones, making it impossible for me to get a read on him. His closed-off expression brings my anger back tenfold. Without waiting for an invitation, I storm past him and into the apartment.
“Alyssa, what—”
I whirl around to face him. “You don’t get to talk right now. I’ve come here to get answers. I need to know about Gavin Barnes, I need to know why you were investigating him, and I need to know it all so that I can protect myself and protect my mom. That is why I’m here.”
His head jerks back and his blank façade cracks. “I see.”
“So will you tell me the truth this time,Mark? Or are you going to keep lying to me, like you’ve done from the very beginning?”
He growls under his breath at the sound of his name, but doesn’t correct me. Instead, body held tight, he steps back and sweeps his arm out, ushering me toward the living area. When I catch the muscle in his jaw twitching, the my anger rises again at the memory of what he did to me in Vegas and they way he’d made me feel used and worthless when I realized it had all been a lie.
I stride over to a leather couch and sit down, crossing my legs in a purposeful closed-off stance.
He moves toward the corner of the lounge and stops in front of a glass liquor cabinet. “Would you like a drink, Alyssa?” he asks, his deep raspy bringing back memories of the things he’d said to me on the plane and the reaction he seems to elicit from me whenever we’re close.
Realizing that even being in the same room as him is wearing down my defenses, I reason that a drink is exactly what I need. Anything to ensure I keep the courage and wherewithal I need to resist the magnetic draw of him. “Yes, please. Whisky if you have it. “
He turns away while fixing our drinks. If ever there was a time to start asking questions it would be now when he’s not disarming me with that stare of his, the one that wields so much power.
