A Sip of You (The Epicurean Series) (12 page)

“Well, I’d like to know.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine, but be prepared to answer my questions as well.” His eyes were icy blue, the color I thought of as his take-no-prisoners-business negotiation eyes. “Like who were you having coffee with in St. Helena, and who drove you to the airport?”

Shit. I’d known this was coming. But I’d started it, and I wasn’t going to back down. “You got it. You first.”

“Ask away.” He gave me a curt nod.

I took a shaky breath. “Have you slept with her?”

“Yes.” No hesitation. That knife in my chest twisted. For whatever reason, I was prepared to twist it more.

“Did you love her?”

“I thought I did at the time. It was as serious as a first real love affair can be, but I was nineteen.” William raised a brow in challenge.

“Was she your college girlfriend or something?”

He let out a low chuckle, and I hated that he did that. “Not exactly. Anya’s a few years older than me, and we didn’t go to college together.”

“How much older?” I wanted to know everything, no matter how painful it might be.

“She’s twelve years older. I was nineteen, she was thirty-one.”

I didn’t quite know what to say. I was almost embarrassed by the disclosure. I hadn’t thought she was that much older. She’d aged well. But more importantly, even if Anya wasn’t William’s first, I’d bet money she was definitely the woman who had tutored him sexually. “Couldn’t you find someone your own age?” I had no idea where that had come from. It was a dumb thing to say. I was beginning to regret starting this conversation, and I dreaded William’s answer.

“Age had nothing to do with it. I’ve always had exceptional taste in women. Anya was a wonderful teacher.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and told myself to breathe.

“I told you, don’t read anything into it.” He wasn’t embarrassed at all—not about being involved with a woman twelve years his senior when he was barely even legal. Not about having her with him while I was stuck back in California. “Anya’s family is a player in the Alaskan oil and gas industry. Her father was invaluable to me when I reopened the investigation, and I’ve invested in some of his companies in recent years. Anya works for her father. She’s the executive vice president of global logistics and splits her time between Fairbanks and Vancouver. She travels all over the world for work and I rarely see her. And she’s married and has three kids. We’re friends. Nothing more.”

If I had thought this conversation would make me feel better, I was way off base. I felt shittier than ever now. William, not surprisingly, had outplayed me. He’d revealed something he clearly didn’t mind discussing, and now I would have to do the same. Except I did mind discussing Jeremy. I was cornered.

And I was jealous and feeling insecure. Which pissed me off. I didn’t want to feel insecure, but how could I not? Anya was successful and stunning. She probably knew more about sex and seduction than I ever would. I understood what William saw in her. What man wouldn’t want her? How could I possibly compare? The short answer was that I couldn’t.

But cornered as I was, William wasn’t about to let me slink away. “You had coffee with a man in St. Helena. Who was he?”

“So Darius
was
babysitting me! I knew it. I wouldn’t even have gone into town if you hadn’t left me alone for two days without any explanation.” I was evading. This sort of ploy had always worked with Jace, but I had a feeling William wouldn’t be so easily outmaneuvered. “Why could Darius get through to you, but I couldn’t?” I challenged him. “I thought we weren’t going to play games with each other.”

“There was no game,” he said, sweeping my smokescreen away effortlessly. “I’m trying to be honest. I didn’t speak with Darius. He was able to reach my pilot via the satellite phone on the plane and leave an update with him. I wanted to know you were okay, Catherine.”

I jumped in, a last ditch effort to derail him. “So that gives you the right to keep me in the dark?”

“The situation is complicated.”

I snorted at that.
Complicated
was one of those catch-all words that seemed to say something but really said nothing at all.

Undeterred, William went on. “I don’t want to pull you into it. The less you know, the better. Now, who was that guy?”

I sighed. There was no getting out of it. “It was Jeremy Ryder. He’s my former brother-in-law.”

William stared at me, not speaking. His eyes were wide, and he actually looked a little stunned.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know. Darius didn’t allow me out of his sight, and I know George is an expert at finding information for you.” We both knew what I was referring to. We were back to those dossiers I’d found at William’s penthouse. Dossiers about women William might date.

But instead of looking angry, he looked utterly deflated. “Catherine.” His voice was flat, my name more a whisper than a word. “Was your meeting planned? Was it about…your husband?”

“It wasn’t planned,” I said, notching my chin up. “I haven’t spoken to Jeremy in months, not since before I moved to Chicago. It was nice to catch up, actually. And yes, we talked about Jace.” From the corner of my eye, I saw William’s color pale. This wasn’t what I had been expecting from him at all.

“Did he hurt you in any way?”

“No, it wasn’t like that. We talked a lot about Jace, that’s all. And then he gave me a ride. Why?”

William started running his hands through his hair. He looked up at me, frustration clearly evident in his eyes. “I hated that you left with him, but once I knew you were coming home, that it was what you needed, I had to let you go.”

I stiffened and stopped sniveling. “What you do you mean you
knew
I was coming home and you let me go?”

“You skipped out on Darius a little too easily—and that will be handled—but my security trailed you. Once you got to the airport and they saw you run away from the man you were with, I wanted them to stop you. They ran a trace on the car and it came back registered to an Amy Mason, a lawyer in Pacific Heights. She was clean but that didn’t explain the guy. She’s an only child, no brothers. And no roommates. They were still trying to find some link, but by then the gate agent assured me that you looked fine—a little upset, but fine—so your ticket was issued.”

I was speechless. I had forgotten who I was dealing with. William was one of the richest men in America and, apparently, that meant there were few things his money, power, and influence couldn’t touch—including my apparently feeble attempt at a clean getaway. I was so out of my league here and I started to feel a little sick to my stomach.

It seemed like an eternity passed before he spoke again. “You miss him, don’t you?” he asked quietly.

I didn’t miss Jeremy; in fact, I hoped I’d never see Jeremy again. Then it hit me. He was asking if I missed
Jace
. He thought I was with Jeremy because of
Jace
. William thought he left me alone and I had run back to the memory of my dead husband. That he could never compete with that. Oh my God, I had made such a bigger mess of things than I even realized.

I looked up at William and he was watching me closely. My eyes locked with his, silently pleading that we just end this conversation so it would go no further. I was more ashamed than ever of my history with Jeremy and I never wanted William to know about it. He’d never forgive me for it, not now.
My
baggage was what could ruin us, just like I feared it could from the very start.

Then he started talking, softly but so earnestly it leveled me. “Catherine, I understand why you’re upset, but the fact remains that you can’t keep thinking the worst and running away. You shut down before you even give me a chance to explain. I know you’ve been through so much, and it kills me that you’ve gone through all that you have. But you need to trust me and to let me take care of you. I need to do that and you need that too. And I’m not going anywhere. I promise, I’ll always come back. Always. I won’t leave you.”

Holy shit
.

Neither of us spoke, the hiss of the burners the only sound in the kitchen. We were at an impasse. My body was rigid with tension and anguish, with grief and guilt, and I kept my hands wrapped around my upper arms as I stared at the floor. 

“The stew has to simmer for a while,” William said. “And I need to clear my head. I’m going out.”

I raised my eyes and must have looked shocked because he immediately added, “I’ll take Laird for a walk.” Laird, who’d been lying on the floor keeping an eye on the two of us, jumped up at the sound of his name. “I enjoy the quiet after a big snow,” he said, whistling for the dog. Laird followed. Even he couldn’t resist William Lambourne.

I stood in the kitchen without moving. I knew William was upset. The only other time he had walked away from a discussion was when I told him I was a widow and that I knew about his family’s deaths. William Lambourne was a man who didn’t like surprises and that had been a huge one. He hadn’t been prepared to handle it that night. But he had handled it eventually, and he was doing a much better job of handling it now than I ever could have imagined.
Holy, holy shit
. I hated fighting, and I hated that I’d, again, made him so upset he needed a break. And I hated that I had the power to really hurt him and I was already doing it without even trying.

I poured another glass of wine and sipped it, moving to the couch. Between the aromas of the food making my stomach rumble and all the thoughts swirling around in my head, I couldn’t concentrate on anything and didn’t try. I just sat.

A while later—it was probably an hour, but it felt like three times that—William and Laird returned. Laird greeted me with a cold nose and a furiously wagging tail. William nodded and headed into the kitchen. I followed, watching while he checked on the stew. He stirred and tasted it. “Should be ready soon.”

“I’ll set the table,” I said. Anything to get away from the tension. The air seemed pregnant with it. I carried two plates into the dining room and stopped cold at the sight of Beckett’s baking bonanza. I’d eaten my way through quite a bit last night and Beckett had taken as much as he could carry, but there was still a lot left, and it was spread out on the dining table. I consolidated the smaller treats—the cupcakes, tarts, cream puffs, and éclairs—onto one plate and set it aside. But that still left a small but untouched chocolate cake. Neither Beckett nor I had wanted to cut it last night. He’d frosted it in pink vanilla buttercream and styled it to look as though it was covered with rose petals. It was so pretty that I almost wanted to photograph it, but now I had to move it. I didn’t have any more room out here, so the cake would have to go to the kitchen.

Cake in hand, I walked around the breakfast bar and spotted an empty square of counter near where William was cooking on the AGA. We’d said no more than ten words to one another since he’d returned, and I wasn’t expecting him to speak. But just as I moved past him, he abruptly turned. I couldn’t stop in time and smashed the cake into his expensive tailored shirt.

I gasped, and William muttered, “What the hell?”

Pink frosting and crumbled cake plopped from his shirt onto the floor, and we both burst out laughing. We couldn’t have planned it if we’d tried. We’d both been in exactly the wrong place at the wrong time. “I am so sorry,” I said between giggles.

“I didn’t see you.”

I set what was left of the cake on the counter and stared at the damage. William’s hands had frosting on them, as did mine, and I grabbed two towels and handed him one, using the other to wipe my hands. He licked a finger. “This is good. Beckett’s work?”

“He goes overboard when left unsupervised with the AGA,” I said. I crouched down and wiped cake and frosting from the floor. Above me, William unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it on the counter. I rose, intending to throw the ruined cake into the trash, but William, now shirtless, stood in my way. My breath caught, and I stood there with cake in my hands, staring at his sculpted torso. Those four AM workouts might annoy me, but the results were evident. Every muscle of his naked chest and abs was clearly defined. His trousers were loose and hung on his hips without the shirt tucked in. I could imagine slipping my hand into the waistband and teasing him into arousal.

Instead, not really knowing what I was doing, I reached over and smeared pink frosting onto his nipple. He was cold, his nipple was hard, and I leaned forward and put my hot mouth on him, licking the pink frosting off with a swipe of my tongue. He didn’t move. He didn’t even seem to breathe. He stood completely still. I was too afraid to look at him, to see his reaction, but he hadn’t stopped me, so I swiped frosting on his other nipple and licked that off too.

I could feel his arousal in the heat radiating off him. I saw it in his tight stance, and the way he fisted his hands at his sides. I looked up at his face and saw his eyes had turned molten grey. The color of arousal. My favorite color these days.

With my gaze locked on his, I wrote a C on the center of his chest in bright pink. It was my version of branding him. Then, licking my lips, I bent and marked him with my tongue. I lifted my hand to write the A—I could have done this all evening—but William moved first. His hands closed on my waist and he lifted me to the counter, his mouth coming down hard on mine as he sat me down. My legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, pulling his hard heat against my core.

“You’re so sweet,” he murmured as our mouths came together again and again. I knew he was tasting the frosting, and I rubbed my tongue along his to give him the full flavor. He groaned, and his hands on my hips tightened. His mouth turned fierce, his kisses mirroring his need for me. Slowly, deliberately, his hands moved up my body, exploring, tracing, teasing, until I was breathless and pressing my hips against his hard erection. He cupped my face, slanting his mouth over mine again and again until I was dizzy with desire.

“Damn.” William pulled back, and I grasped his shoulder to keep from falling sideways. From somewhere far away I heard a buzz.

“Timer,” William said.

“I knew that.”