Catch My Breath (10 page)

“We’re even now,” he declared.

“Are we?”

He nodded, brushing his lips against mine. As I lost myself in the lingering softness of his kisses, I couldn't help but wonder if his heart was racing as fast as mine. He ran his hand through the back of my hair, pulling it. Need and want overpowered me. My addiction to him was irreversible.

We stared at one another, muddled in a lustful haze. I ran my thumb back and forth over his lips. He leaned his forehead on mine, his expression softening. I touched his jaw, his cheeks and ran my fingers through his hair.

“You’re so beautiful, Alastair.”

“I’m glad you like what you see.” He straightened his spine, staring through me. A myriad of emotions twisted through his handsome face before disappearing abruptly. My skin reacted negatively to the loss of heat when he pushed away from me. Craving his closeness, I followed him as he walked toward the cluster of photos, stroking my swollen lips. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him while he stared at the photo of his younger self. His reticent expression gave nothing away. He cleared his throat, not moving his eyes from the photograph.

"My parents and sister died when I was very young. We were hit head on by someone who’d fallen asleep at the wheel while driving home from a family picnic."

Tears flooded my eyes. He saw them and winced.

"Please don't pity me, Lia. I can't take any more tears out of pity."

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t know. I really … I didn’t know.”

Disbelief washed over his face. It disappeared quickly as he reattached his stoic mask.

"I wanted for nothing growing up. My dad's brother, Jason, and his wife, Katherine, raised me as their own."

"How old were you?"

"Six."

"So that photo—”

"It was taken several months after the accident."

I hastily brushed away tears, not liking the wary glances he was shooting at me. “Thanks for—”

“What happened before shouldn’t have,” he interrupted. “It won’t happen again.”

What? The kiss? He must be joking. I was completely dumbstruck. Not to mention catastrophically disappointed. He kept avoiding my gaze. It was beyond annoying.

“Alastair—”

“You’re a beautiful, sweet girl. You have no business being with someone like me.”

“Stop interrupting me.” I folded my arms, giving him a look. The corner of his mouth ticked up into a slight smile. I worked fast to capitalize on his softened mood.

“Listen, you can’t be all flirty and charming and kiss me like that, then put restrictions on it. I mean, you can, but—“

“You think I’m flirty and charming?”

“Again with the interrupting.”

Apparently teasing me was more than just a pastime for him. I smiled in spite of this baffling conversation. His pretty eyes dropped their impenetrable shield just a bit.

“Don’t be coy with me, Holden.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with a sly grin.

“You’re an enigma. You’re lucky I know how to handle people like you.”

He laughed loudly, the tension and discomfort dropping away from him in bits and pieces. “Are you hungry?”

“A little.”

“Care for some dessert?”

“Dessert?” I became all giddy and excited. “Sure.”

Alastair instructed me to wait for him in the living room. He set out a bottle of vintage port and a couple of glasses before retreating to the kitchen to prepare dessert. I found myself staring at the large black and white photo hanging on the wall. The entire picture was devoid of color, except for a double decker bus passing in front of Big Ben. It was colored with a vibrant red.

“Do you like that?” The silkiness of his accent massaged my senses.

“It’s amazing. Where did you get it?"

"I took it myself."

"Really? Wow. It looks so professional."

"Thank you.” He looked at the photo, then at me. “I also took the one of the skyline hanging in my bedroom. It was just a little hobby of mine."

"Do you have any more?"

"Not here. They're in storage back in England.”

"One of the guys I work with in Orlando is an amateur photographer. He’s always sticking a lens in my face when we have parties. It’s annoying at times, but he does a really nice job, so I don’t mind."

“I don’t think I ever asked you what you did for a living.”

“I produce the local news. Nothing exciting at all,” I shook my head, turning back to the picture.

“You must photograph beautifully.”

I snorted. “What? No.”

“I beg to differ. You have such delicate, soft features. Full lips.” He pressed a kiss to them. “Perfect little button nose.” Another kiss. “Expressive eyes. Those alone would make a gorgeous portrait. Maybe I’ll get the chance to photograph you one day.”

Snaking his fingers behind my neck, he kissed me so passionately my knees almost gave out. This was happening too fast, but I didn’t want to stop him. I cherished the way his lips moved so effortlessly on mine. The tender warmth of his tongue stroked mine with such reverence it made my insides quiver.

“I thought we weren’t supposed to do this anymore,” I whispered.

“We aren’t,” he said, kissing me again. “You make me--”

A buzzer went off somewhere in the universe. I jolted out of my daze and watched Alastair move toward the kitchen.
I make him what?
Only one thing dominated my thoughts; him. He consumed me. My body ached for him in a way I didn’t know was humanly possible.

“It’s ready,” he poked his head into the room. “Join me, won't you?"

I shuffled into the kitchen. The breakfast bar was set with two napkins and a steaming bowl of chocolate bread pudding. The sweet scent of buttery cocoa surrounded us. I climbed onto the stool next to him.

"There's only one spoon."

"Nothing gets past you," he said dryly and handed it to me. “Here.”

I took the spoon and scooped out a gooey hunk. It was warm and sweet and sinful. I passed the spoon to him and watched impatiently as he dug into the pudding. He lifted the spoon to his lips and paused briefly. The way his mouth wrapped around it forced me to cross my legs. A small dab of chocolate on the corner of his mouth distracted me. I impulsively reached over and wiped it away, sucking it off the pad of my thumb.

“Chocolate and Alastair. Quite the flavor combination.”

Our eyes locked and a noticeable change in atmosphere engulfed us. He ran the spoon through the pudding, holding up another scoop. A sultry, dark veil cloaked his eyes.

“Open,” he commanded quietly.

My lips parted as he traced my bottom lip with the spoon before smoothly moving it over my tongue. We never broke eye contact. Closing my mouth, I grabbed his hand to keep it in place. Alastair shifted on his seat, watching me suck the pudding off the spoon. His features lost some of their hard edge, revealing more of his youthful beauty. When I finally released his hand, he exhaled.

"Something on your mind, Lia?”

"Not particularly.” I licked my lips. “You?"

He grinned alluringly. "I'd like to finish this first before we share any private thoughts." He took another slow, deliberate bite of the bread pudding. "Would you like more?"

“Yes, please.”

Alastair lifted another steamy scoop. A little dab of chocolate threatened to fall off. Holding the spoon up, he stroked his tongue against it, capturing the wayward pudding. Perspiration misted over my body as my breathing became labored.

“Open.”

My jaw went slack waiting for him. I trembled, anticipating his closeness. The way he fed me was so effortless and careful. There was no way in hell I’d be able to eat dessert normally ever again. He kept feeding me spoonful after spoonful. I wasn’t even hungry anymore; I just wanted this to continue. He brushed a few strands of hair out of my face and fed me one last time.

“You’re a messy eater.” Hooded, lustrous eyes pierced through me. He leaned in, pulled my bottom lip into his mouth and sucked off the pudding. An animalistic, full-bodied groan came from somewhere deep inside me. I clutched the back of the stool as he licked along my lips.

“Dessert tastes divine on you,” he said, sliding his hand up my thigh, kissing me deeply. I couldn’t concentrate on anything.
We can kiss, we can’t kiss, we can kiss
.
What the hell…?

“You’re making my head spin.” I barely got the words out.

“Imagine what you’re doing to mine,” he whispered.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The cold water shocked my skin as I waited for it to warm. Alastair was in the kitchen cleaning up. I grasped the edge of the marble counter, concentrating on the air as it filled and expanded my lungs. Doubt tickled and flickered through my innermost thoughts.

I finished washing my face and gathered the rest of my toiletries. Alastair was sitting on the bed when I walked back into the room. I quickly put my belongings on the suitcase. He reached out his hand, looking at me intently. Hesitating, I went to him, wedging myself between his legs, my head still spinning.

He kissed the palm of my hand, then seemingly searched the room for some type of divine intervention. It unnerved me. A sense of dread pricked along my skin. Tons of questions swirled in my mind while butterflies fluttered through my stomach. His smoldering intensity was still there but it was muted.

I bowed my head, unable to look directly at him.

“Don’t do that.” He tipped my chin up. “I need to see your eyes.”

“Why?”

“It’s the only way I know what you’re really thinking.”

Flustered, I sucked in a breath.

“What are we doing? I’m…I’m leaving tomorrow. I can’t—”

“I know,” he said, verdant eyes flashing. “We shouldn’t take this any further.”

His words ripped through my soul with a searing intensity far beyond anything I expected to feel. My heart dropped into a bottomless pit at the exact moment my walls went up, echoing through my mind. I jerked my hand away from his, nearly losing my balance.

“Let me explain,” he said calmly.

“Explain what?”

“This,” he gestured to himself and me. “I can’t give you what you need, I can only give you what you want.”

“What I want? You have no idea what I want,” I glowered.

“Yes, I do. It’s in your eyes. It’s been in your eyes since the moment I caught you.”

I stared at him, annoyed by his nonchalant arrogance. “So if you claim to have known all this time, why did you come on so strongly? Even after I told you I didn’t want to be a one-night stand for you. You sure as hell laid it on pretty thick. Is this fun for you?” I stopped short, an unpleasant realization dawning on me. “You have a girlfriend, don’t you?”

“No. I don’t date. Relationships are too messy.”

“So, what then?” I lashed out, my thoughts scattered. “You thought you’d get some action from a tourist? Seduce me with your little dessert stunt, then fuck me and drop me off at the airport?”

He looked at me, stunned, almost as though I’d slapped him across the face. Wow. My filter was long gone. But I was emboldened. This seductive dance we’d engaged in was obviously just a game to him. I could feel him withdrawing from me. The humid heat between us disappeared, leaving me chilled to the bone. I tried to let my emotions settle but knowing I was being irrational wasn’t enough to stop me from careening off Mount Hysteria. I was in full defense mode; strike first and get out, before getting hurt.

Tilting his head, he regarded me cautiously. “There’s always a woman out there who thinks getting close to me physically translates into a meaningful relationship. It doesn’t. I have…” he paused, hesitating, “rules when it comes to this.”

“What does that even mean?”

A distant, detached expression slid into place so fast it mesmerized me.

“The women I’m intimate with are just that. There’s nothing above and beyond the sex. They get what they want, and so do I. If they don’t like it, they can walk away at any time. Or I’ll end it.”

I was horrified. He treated what was supposed to be a mutual closeness between two people like a merger with provisions. I glanced at him. He looked as he did sitting in his office; serious, focused, professional. The small glimpse I’d seen of his vulnerable side was securely locked behind his shield once more.

“You’re in luck then because I don’t want anything from you. Clearly, I’ve perfected the art of being attracted to the wrong people.”

Clenching his jaw, he sighed heavily. “Wrong how?”

I groaned and gave him a look. “Just
wrong
. I don’t know what your deal is but this sex-with-no-attachment-thing isn’t the type of relationship I’m into. It sounds too cold.”

“This is the way it has to be.”

“And you don’t deviate from this rule?”

“No.”

I must be a magnet for people like this. Either that, or I was so awed by his well-rehearsed charm I’d neglected to pay attention to my instincts.
Dumb, dumb, stupid, dumb.
He studied my face, gauging my reaction.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Alastair. You’re like two different people. Which one of you is real? The one I met last week or the one I’m being introduced to right now?” I bit out. “You’ve managed to screw with my mind. Is that what you were going for? Or were you going to take it all the way and, oh, how did you put it. ‘Get what you want?’ I am sick of being used and tossed aside by guys like you.”

“Lia.” His husky whisper demanded my attention. “Look at me.”

Shaking, I looked into his seraphic, emerald eyes. The night was slipping away from me and I was powerless to stop it.
What am I doing? Control, Lia. Get control.
“I need to get out of here.” My voice quivered and broke.

“Hush.” He leaned his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes, fighting every instinct I had to bolt out the door. “Quiet your mind.”

Every caress he made soothed me. I held onto his shoulders to steady myself. Being so close to him silenced the persistent, overbearing voices of insecurity. Little by little, my muscles relaxed, my mind stopped racing and I found my equilibrium.

“I…” he started, then paused. “You’ve seen more of the real me than anyone.”