Beautiful Surrender (The Surrender Series Book Three) (5 page)

There
was another mumble in the background. “Yeah, sorry. We have a lot going on over
here right now.”

I
breathed deeply, reaffirmed in my decision that we were both too busy to make
this work. “I’ll drop by your office at six thirty then.”

Meeting
him at his office as opposed to his place or my place would make it easier to
leave after the discussion. It would’ve been easier just to tell him over the
phone but I supposed it was more appropriate to handle this in person.

His
voice brightened. “Can’t wait to see you then.”

“Bye
Vincent.”

When
evening rolled around, I gingerly stepped out my front door in jeans and a
t-shirt. It’d been nearly two days since I left the apartment. I made sure to
pack my taser in my purse before I went over to Vincent’s office in case I ran
into any more trouble along the way.

As
expected, the commute downtown was less crowded than usual since most people
weren’t working. High-powered CEOs were one of the exceptions. I made it to the
Red Fusion offices to find a few people crunching on their laptops. I was about
to ring Vincent when an employee who recognized me from before kindly opened
the glass door. I thanked him and he promptly returned to his desk to work on
his keyboard. Knowing the way to Vincent’s office, I walked down the hall and
stopped in front of his door. This wasn’t going to be an easy discussion, but
it had to be done.

I took
a deep breath then went inside.

Vincent
was at his desk, brows furrowed and typing furiously. He was in his usual
elegant New York attire: white shirt with red-striped tie and black pants. When
he saw me—those dark brown eyes piercing me like arrows—he stopped working and
smiled. “Kristen.”

“Hey,”
I said, returning his smile. I kept one hand in my jeans and waved at him with
the other.

He
glided around the desk and hugged me tightly, the squeeze making my legs turn
to jelly momentarily. As always, he smelled wonderful. The spicy scent tickled
my nostrils as well as other parts of my body. He kissed me on the forehead
then the tip of my nose. “I’m so glad you’re here. I thought you’d call so I
could let you in.”

“I was
going to when one of your employees let me inside,” I said as he led me by the
hand to his leather couch in the corner. I was reminded of the first time I
entered this office intending to make another case for choosing
Waterbridge-Howser as his wealth management firm but wound up almost having sex
with him instead. That was a distressing time in my life but not quite as
distressing as recent events.

“I got
you these.” He reached for the coffee table and handed me a bouquet of red
roses. There was a card attached with a small puffin on the front. It looked
rough, like it was drawn with crayons by a child.

“Did
you draw this picture?” I asked.

“Yeah,
you like it?” He sounded proud of his work.

I had
to stifle a laugh. A smile broke out on my face despite myself. “Let’s just
hope the inside makes up for it.”

The
card read:

Kristen,
I’m sorry. I messed up. I lied to you and didn’t respect your choices. Give me
a chance to make it up to you.

Yours,
Vincent

“This
is really sweet, Vincent.” I took a whiff of the roses and savored the fresh
fragrance. The gesture touched my heart but gifts could only go so far.

“I’m
glad you like it.” He smiled, his boyish grin making my insides mushy. “So what
did you want to tell me earlier today? It sounded important.”

I
carefully put the items on the seat next to me and exhaled, gathering up the
courage to tell him what I’d planned on saying. “I want to take a break.”

His
smile faded and his dark eyes studied me. “What kind of break?”

“A
break from us.”

“Temporary
or permanent?”

“Temporary.
For now at least. My life is too crazy at the moment and I’m sure you’re really
stressed out as well. It’ll be good for both of us.”

His
gaze narrowed. “The only time I’m not stressed is when I’m with you.”

I
looked at him skeptically. “What about your work? You’ve seemed pretty worried
about it the last few weeks.”

“Work
is work. I can manage it, especially when I’m thinking about you. It helps to
have something to look forward to.”

“I
thought you said I was a distraction?”

“That
was when my priorities were different. Seems so long ago. Now work is the
distraction.”

“And
I’m your main concern now? Is it because of Marty?”

“It’s
because the way I feel about you. You’re more than a concern. You’re a part of
my life.”

“You’ve
been so busy lately. I’ve hardly seen you. I don’t feel like I’ve been that big
of a part of your life.”

I
expected him to have some kind of charming response but instead, he bent down
and casually slipped off each of his black loafers, leaving him in his black
socks. He set his shoes near my feet. Then he started slipping off my flats.

“Uh,
what are you doing?”

He
managed to slip off one when I pulled my legs away.

“I
sincerely hope that you’re not expecting us to have sex on your couch. I know
you’re all for ‘finishing what we started’ but roses and a cute card aren’t
going to cut it.”

His
expression was unreadable. “Give me your feet. I want to show you something.”

“What
for?”

“Trust
me.”

Sensing
he didn’t intend for us to have sex, I gingerly scooched my legs back and
offered him the foot with the remaining shoe. He gently removed it and inserted
my feet in his loafers.

I felt
the lingering warmth of his feet on my own. I looked down and was fascinated by
the maleness of the shoe. The texture of the leather was smooth and glossy but
the slight crease near the toes and various small nicks gave it a rough,
unrefined edge. The shape narrowing sharply at the toes seemed to point forward
like a general points his hand to rally an army’s charge. I imagined Vincent
wearing these in a variety of scenarios: walking to high-powered meetings,
standing in front of a podium giving a company-wide speech, bending down to
pick up a quarter. My drab flats looked feminine and dainty in comparison.

I
wiggled my toes inside, probing the empty space between the inner lining and my
feet. Although comfortable, the loafers were much too big for me. They might as
well have been clown shoes.

“Now
close your eyes for a moment.”

I did
as he asked, expecting further instructions. After an awkward minute of not
receiving any, I opened my eyes.

Vincent
looked at me expectantly. “Well?”

“Well
what?”

“What
do you feel?”

I
wiggled my toes again. “Umm . . . a soft insole? I don’t know. What am I
supposed to feel?”

“You’re
supposed to feel the muscles in your legs tensing, blood coursing between them,
your cock getting hard like steel.”

“Um,
what?”

“You
experience an intense attraction to Kristen. You were thinking about product strategy
before but now your thoughts are turning dirty. You can’t think straight. All
you can think about is when you’re going to see Kristen again. And if anyone
hurts her, there will be hell to pay. Then you realize she’s what you want. All
you’ve ever wanted.” He put his hand on my leg, the warmth seeping through the
denim to my skin. “When you put yourself in my shoes. That’s what you feel.”

“Oh.”

“Now
imagine feeling that all the time. During meetings; on the plane; while you’re
eating . . . You see now how you’re a part of my life?”

I
nodded. “You make a good point.”

“Do you
still want to see me?”

Vincent’s
charm was starting to take its effect on me but I still had reservations. Maybe
I’d built up resistance to him from all our time together. “I don’t know. Yes
and no.”

“What
are the reasons for ‘yes’?”

I put
my finger on my chin and thought about it. “You make a mean omelette.”

“That’s
it?”

“Umm .
. . Shrimp pasta as well. Also, you’ve shown you really care about me. Taking
me on trips, carving time out of your busy schedule to be with me, being
concerned about my safety.”

“And
the orgasms?”

“They’re
a nice perk but I think I could go without them and be okay.”

“Then I
have room for improvement. Okay, what are the reasons for ‘no’?”

“I
don’t know if I can trust you.”

“You’ve
trusted me in the past.”

“That’s
true.”

“The
bar in Cape Town, surfing, being discreet about our dating, blindfolds,
cybersex, sex on my plane . . . am I missing anything?”

“Not
that I can think of.”

“And I
messed up by getting that security team. And for not telling you about
Giselle’s ex-boyfriend, which you must admit is not a complete breach in trust.
More like a half-breach.”

I mused
about it. “All right, I’ll give you that.”

“Also
the Ariel text message was a misunderstanding so that doesn’t count.”

“It
pissed me off so I’d say that’s a half-breach.”

“Fine.
Even so, it’s six in support of trusting me versus two in support of
distrusting me. I’d say the odds are in my favor.”

“In
terms of numbers, maybe. But numbers are soft when there’s feelings involved.”

“Do you
still have feelings for me?”

“Yes. I
do. But I still think we should take a break.”

He
tried inserting his feet into my flats but only managed to squeeze a few toes
inside.

“That’s
not what your shoes are telling me.”

“Oh?” I
became curious. “What are they saying?”

“They’re
saying life is crazy right now. I don’t know what to do. I want to figure
things out on my own because I’m a strong, independent woman. I want to prove
it to Vincent and to myself. But I do know that Vincent really cares about me.
He’s always had the best intentions for me. And I really care about him. As
much as I try to say otherwise, I really don’t want to be apart from him.”

I
laughed despite myself, tears welling up in my eyes. He was so sweet. “My shoes
talk too much.”

He
smiled and cleared his throat, but I could tell he was affected too, his eyes
betraying him with a glisten. “Come on Kristen, give us a chance. We both have
crazy lives but it doesn’t mean we should fix things by ourselves. It might be
easier. But if we make it through this together, we’ll be stronger. If we make
it through this alone, we’ll just be better at being alone.” He touched my
cheek tenderly. “Let’s work this out together.”

He
gently brought my head into his chest. I grumbled but didn’t resist because it
felt too good, too comforting. The distress I felt over our issues seemed to
magically disappear when he held me. I realized how much I loved his touch and
being with him despite our problems. It was worth taking a chance. Vincent was
worth it. Even if it meant risking getting hurt.

“Fine,”
I muttered. “We’ll do this together.”

He
exhaled in relief and kissed my head. “Can I call you Kitten again?” he asked,
nuzzling his cheek in my hair.

I tried
to think of a response that didn’t make it seem like I totally forgave him. “As
long as you let me call you Vinnie the Pooh.”

He
laughed, the throaty sound flowing over me. “That’s the first time I’ve heard
that one.”

I
looked up at him. “What other ones have you heard?”

“Vin
Diesel. My Cousin Vinny. Vitty Cent. Vincent van Gogh . . .” He started
grinning.

I
giggled. “Those are pretty good but I think your drawing skills need a little
work for that last one to work.”

“You
got me.” He smiled. “I made that one up a while ago and tried to get people to
use it but it never caught on.”

I
giggled again.

“But
none of those names were as clever as yours.” He bent and sealed his lips over
my mouth. Our tongues slowly, tenderly probed one another until the need to
breathe interrupted them. “You can call me whatever you like.”

“I’ll
probably stick with ‘Vincent’. I think it suits you best.”

“Vincent
it is then, Kitten. Listen, my sister Giselle is having a birthday party for
her son next Saturday. Do you want to come with me?”

Vincent
at a birthday party for his nephew? I had to see this. It would also give me
the chance to meet his sister, Giselle. I recalled the picture he had of her in
his island cabin, the two of them smiling on a beach together. I hadn’t met any
of Vincent’s family before and I was more than curious to see how he would act
around his sister.

“Sure.
Am I going to see you before that this week?”