Betrayal (9 page)

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Authors: Aleatha Romig

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Erotica, #Suspense, #Romantic Suspense, #dark romance

BOOK: Betrayal
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I opened the door, but before the waiter could speak, my eyes went to the man standing off to the side, the one with the pale blue eyes I wanted to forget. Regret and sorrow morphed into hunger as Nox scanned my new attire. Although the robe was long, nearly to the floor, the rich satin did little to hide my body’s reaction to his gaze.

I crossed my arms over my traitorous nipples. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

“May I come in?” The low thunder rumbled my insides.

“No,” I answered too quickly, suddenly conscious of my lack of clothing beneath the robe. Even the loss of the high heels put me at a marked disadvantage. The man with the ravenous stare towered over me, taller than only an hour before.

“Miss Moore?” the young man in the navy jacket asked. “Would you like me to bring your wine into your suite?”

“I hope you don’t mind,” Nox said. “I may have changed your order—a little.”

“Yes,” I said louder than I intended. “I do mind.” Turning toward the waiter I mellowed my tone. “Please go back to the kitchen. Bring me the house red and if you can manage to return alone, I’ll triple your tip.”

Still wearing the suit from our dinner, minus the jacket I’d thrown at him, Nox grinned as he pulled a money clip from the front pocket of his gray trousers. Without speaking, he peeled back a few bills. I tried not to look, but saw that each one was a hundred.

“Here you go,” he said, offering the cash to the waiter. “The lady will be fine with the wine you currently have on your cart. Take it into her suite.”

I pressed my lips together and moved aside to allow the waiter entrance.

As he moved the small linen-covered cart, he smiled bashfully. “Miss Moore, would you like me to open the bottle of Screaming Eagle Cabernet Sauvignon?” His smile grew as he proclaimed, “It’s our finest wine.”

“It’s from Napa Valley,” Nox whispered, leaning close to my ear, sending warm breaths over my neck.

“Yes, sir,” the waiter replied. “We only serve California wines at Del Mar.”

I shook my head. “No, thank you, just leave the opener and I can take care of it.”

“Yes, miss. Thank you. If you need anything else…”

“That’ll be all,” Nox answered. “We’ll call if we do.”

The waiter nodded and disappeared down the hallway. Reaching for the door, I cocked my head to the side. “You’re rather confident for a man who’s still standing in the hallway.”

“I am.” His blue eyes shone with newfound determination. “However, you’re right about my location, very astute of you. I’d much prefer to be in there.” He nodded toward me.

Thankfully, there wasn’t anyone else in the hall. “Nox, I don’t see married men.”

“Mrs. Witt was right. Would you allow me to explain, inside your room?”

I swallowed as he inched closer, his eyes never leaving mine as the intoxicating, woodsy scent filled my senses. I tried to stay focused. “No. That won’t be necessary. It’s very simple.”

“Charli, it isn’t as simple as you think. I don’t usually ask the same question twice, but for you, I’ll make an exception. May I come in and explain?”

He took another step my direction. If I remained still, we’d be close enough to touch. Unwilling to allow the contact, I took a step back. “Fine,” I snapped, waving my arm in a grand gesture, “make it quick. Apparently I have some expensive wine to drink.”

“The best California red Del Mar has to offer,” he said with a smirk as he entered.

I didn’t move farther into the suite or invite him to sit. Instead, I tugged on the lapels of my robe and said, “You have thirty seconds. Explain.”

Nox’s neck straightened as his shoulders broadened before me and the seams of his shirt pulled against the strain. His head moved slowly from side to side as he searched for the right words. “I also don’t take orders well, but once again, I’ll make an exception.”

“Then you must be a great employee. I’m surprised your bosses allow you to stay in such expensive suites.”

“My bosses?”

“You said you run businesses. They must belong to someone.”

“Yes, you’re right. They do.”

I waved my hand in the air. “You know what? I don’t care. I don’t care if you take orders. I don’t care if you repeat yourself, and I don’t care whom you work for. Your time is almost up.”

“I’m not married.”

My jaw tightened. “I don’t see married men
and
I detest liars.”

He took another step towards me. “Charli Moore, I also don’t explain myself

to anyone. I want you to listen and listen closely.” He seized my shoulders. Before I could protest he continued, “I’m not married. I was. I won’t elaborate any more than that. You’re right that I took the ring off recently. I took it off for you—for our dinner. I didn’t take it off because I’m cheating on someone. I took it off so that you wouldn’t get the wrong impression.”

With my face tilted toward his, I stared at his mouth and listened to his words. When he paused, I said, “I-I don’t understand.”

The lips I’d been watching forcibly captured mine, pulling me upward, closer to his mouth, his chest, and to him. Nox reached for the back of my neck, his fingers lacing through my long hair, holding me captive as his other arm wrapped around my waist. My hands flew to his chest as a moan escaped my lips and fire surged through me. The electricity of his earlier touch was but a spark to the wildfire that was growing inside of me. If I fought his actions, I couldn’t remember.

Beneath the palms of my hands, I felt the erratic beat of his heart. He felt the same attraction that I did. The magnetic pull was too hard to resist. Finally, I pushed against his chest, needing air and space. “Nox…”

“I’m no longer married. I swear.”

I stared up at his handsome face, and sucking my bruised lips between my teeth, I searched for any sign of deceit. I barely knew this man, yet, the way my body melted against his, I wanted to know him. I wanted to believe him.

When I didn’t respond, he asked, “Do you believe me?”

“I want to,” I answered honestly.

He caressed my cheek, the softness of his touch a stark contrast to the fervency of his kiss. “I had no idea what happened—why you left. You were there with me, and then you were gone.”

I shook my head, trying to recall his words. “You said ‘Mrs. Witt was right.’ What did you mean by that?”

“She said that something upset you and asked me what I’d done.”

“I thought you didn’t answer to people?”

“Mrs. Witt isn’t people. She’s also not my boss.”

I smiled. “I didn’t think she was, but she is
someone
?”

“She is.”

“But you won’t tell me?” I asked. When he didn’t answer, I tried another question. “How did you find me?”

He tugged my hand and pulled me toward the sofa. As we sat, he said, “You mentioned your sister’s name was Chelsea and that your reservation was under her name.”

His recollection of my dishonesty reminded me that I didn’t deserve to know any more about him. “Nox, we said one week, with no commitment. If you swear that you’re not married, if I can trust that, then I don’t need to know any more.”

I melted toward his lips as they again captured mine. With my chest against his, the soft fabric of the robe did little to hide my sensitive nipples.

His gaze dropped to where our bodies touched and his smile grew. “I swear.” The thunder of his tone pulled me toward him as he teased the neckline of my robe. “Charli…” He lifted the end of my hair. “…you were stunning tonight at dinner. But now, here…” He caressed my cheek. “…is the beautiful woman I saw at the pool. I’d like to do all I can to learn more about you and those limits we discussed. If I only have a week, I don’t want to waste any more time.”

Mutely, I nodded.

“Besides not seeing married men, tell me your hard limits.”

“I-I don’t know,” I answered truthfully.

 

 

 

“MRS. FITZGERALD, WOULD
you like a glass of wine?”

“Mimosas, for me and my daughter.”

“Right away, ma’am.”

Mother and I settled into large comfortable chairs as we lowered our feet into the warm bubbling baths. From the reception we’d received, it was obvious that every employee of the private spa knew my mother, the great Adelaide Montague Fitzgerald.

“Darling,” she said, with just the right amount of Southern twang, “please watch what you say, especially around Alton. Dear, you know how busy he is. He doesn’t deal well with petty comments.”

Copper filled my mouth as my teeth increased the pressure upon my tongue. I’d promised Jane that this visit would come and go without incident. I promised for her, not my mother and most definitely not Alton. I had missed Jane more than I’d realized. If I could manage to lower the tension level, perhaps I could arrange to visit more often, especially if I could schedule it when Alton was away on one of his trips.

The idea of having Jane and my mother to myself helped me ignore my mother’s glowing endorsement of her husband. With a smile plastered on my lips, I replied, “I would like this to be a stress-free visit. I just wish you’d tell me why I’m here.”

She patted my hand. “To see your family, dear.”

I nodded at the young man who delivered our drinks. “I saw you in California, at my graduation.”

“But that’s not the same as being
home
.” Her blue eyes turned toward me. For as long as I could remember, I knew my mother was the master of disguise, yet looking at her now, I saw a change. She was still attractive, but at one time, her eyes had danced with passion. I remembered a time when she was happy. She used to adore the arts and worked tirelessly with the Savannah Museum of Art. Her work was solely volunteer, because Montague women didn’t need to work. Adelaide did it because she wanted to, because she enjoyed it. But then, as time passed, she had other duties, ones that were higher profile, ones that required more and more of her time. She said she wanted to do them—organize fundraisers and meet with Alton’s clients and colleagues. It may not have been as noticeable when I saw her daily, but now after being away, I saw that the passion she’d once possessed was gone.

That wasn’t to say that my mother wasn’t still beautiful. She was, like a flawless caricature, from her slender figure to her unwrinkled face and brown hair. While I blamed Alton for her lifeless eyes, my mother was the one who allowed it to happen. She was the one who smiled on his arm while he introduced her to his mistresses. Not that he was ever bold enough to give them that title in Adelaide’s presence. After all, she would always be his connection to the Montague name and fortune. No, he’d introduce them as his
assistant
, his
representative,
or maybe, as the
wife of his dear friend
.

While his exploits weren’t limited to the women whom my mother knew, she never appeared unhappy. It went against her upbringing. A wife’s duty was to support her husband, no matter his faults.

“Montague Manor is your home, and I think you should consider returning.”

I bristled at the thought. “Momma, I have three years of law school ahead of me. I’ll be in New York.”

“I’m so proud of your accomplishments. You know that, I hope.”

“Yes.”

“Columbia is very prestigious. But you could change your mind and attend Savannah Law School or maybe Emory. That’s only in Atlanta.”

What? Savannah instead of Columbia? Does she think it’s that simple, like changing a restaurant reservation?

I shook my head in disbelief. “Do you even hear yourself?” I kept my voice hushed. “Columbia will open doors.”

She pressed her lips together and looked about. No one was near and if anyone was listening, they were polite enough not to be obvious. “Your name opens doors, Alexandria. This law dream is nice, but why? What’s the point?”

My spine stiffened and jaw clenched. “Point? I don’t know. Maybe the point is to be an attorney.”

“You went off and had your fun in California. I wanted you to do that. I never had that chance. Now you’re home. Savannah is where you belong. Continuing the Montague name is your destiny, not working in some dingy courtroom.” She drained her glass of champagne with a touch of orange juice and motioned for another. “I see nothing wrong with you completing the degree, even the Georgia bar, if you want; however, it’s really unnecessary. A Montague woman does not need to work.

“I’d hoped that while you were gone you’d meet someone. Then again,” she added with a smile, “perhaps it’s better that you didn’t.”

I couldn’t keep up. First, my own mother thought my postgraduate work was frivolous and then she was talking about suitors. Momentarily, my thoughts went from Adelaide’s preposterous dialogue to Nox. I hadn’t spoken to him since Del Mar, even though he’d broken our rule and given me the means. Though I’d considered it, I hadn’t broken the rule by doing it.

“Who said I didn’t.”

Mother motioned again for another mimosa. “What, dear?”

“Who said I didn’t meet anyone?”

“Well, you never said you did.” Her lifeless eyes opened wider. “Did you?”

“What does it matter? You seem to have my life planned.”

“No, not planned. I just think it’s time that you thought about your options. You know, the Spencers will be at our gathering tonight.”

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