Delusive (20 page)

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Authors: Courtney Lane

BOOK: Delusive
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“Are you ready to go again?”

He laughed. “My plan was to fuck you all night and ensure your pleasure superseded mine. Any objections?”

THIRTEEN

THE HEAT OF THE morning sun on my face convinced me to finally get out of bed. I squinted, taking in the view of the room, finding myself alone in the Elias’s enormous bed. Glancing at the time, I noticed I had two and a half hours before I needed to start my day at work. I’d spent my only weekend off either fucking or eating, and I couldn’t have thought of a better way to spend two days.

Upon standing, I grimaced at the pain emerging from my core. Remembering what occurred the other night, into the early morning, the day, the night, and the next entire day, my regrets were washed away. Sharing a part of me I was reluctant to give him was worth it. He made me feel things over the last two days I didn’t think were possible to feel with anyone.

AFTER SHOWERING AND going through the motions of getting ready for the day, I returned to the bed. I replaced the clothes I hadn’t been in since Friday, sans panties and styled my hair. I picked up my phone from the night table and unplugged it from the charger. My notification menu contained dozens of missed calls from my father. On further discovery, I found out why I missed all of his calls. My phone was placed on silent mode; something I didn’t recall doing at any point during the weekend.

While keeping my eye on the hallway, I returned my father’s call.

“Hanley, I was worried sick about you,” he answered, sounding frazzled.

“I spent the last two nights with Elias. I’m okay. Are you okay?”

He sighed audibly. “You’re an adult, and I can’t criticize your decisions. I hope you’re still thinking clearly about all of this and your weekend was…” He cleared his throat, stressing his uneasiness with the topic. “Is everything all right?”

“I have to go, Dad. I wanted to let you know where I was.”

“Hanley!” The desperation in his voice called to me. “Is everything all right?”

My smile dropped. “It’s all going according to plan,” I told him and hung up.

I walked downstairs to find Elias there to greet me at the front door.
 

He caught a glimpse of me and walked up to greet me with a heart-melting smile and a sweet kiss. "Did you rest well this weekend?”

“When you let me, I slept better than I did in my bed at home.”

Lingering at my lips, he cupped my face and gave me another brief peck on the mouth. Tugging me, he directed me to follow him toward the front door. "We're going out for breakfast."

THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Elias pulled off the parkway and drove up to a restaurant situated not far from the Pacific shore.
 

We rounded the back of the restaurant where a table—draped in a white cloth—and a waiter waited for us on the patio. Due to the absence of customers and the understaffed restaurant, it was clear the place was open just for us.
 

Our server, dressed in a white button up and black slacks, nearly tripped over himself to fill my white ceramic mug with fresh coffee. “What will you be having today, Miss Harper?” he asked. His accent was thick and tended to roll expertly around the letter “R.”

Curious how he knew my name, I glanced from him to Elias. When my stomach growled, my hunger won out over my need for answers. I quickly perused the menu and had no idea what to order, because the menu was in a different language.

“She’ll have my usual,” Elias told the waiter who nodded in recognition.

I watched the waiter’s back as he disappeared inside the restaurant. “And what is your usual?”

“I normally eat here alone and devour too much food for one person.” The crooked, dimpled smile—indicating he knew what my question was really about —successfully abated any storm of jealousy.

I glanced at the shore, recalling things from the start of the weekend I wished I hadn’t. “Is your
housekeeper
a regular thing?”

“She was a stripper,” he responded with ease, “invited by Jaco to make you jealous. She’s his…
friend
. For the record, I would never be so immature.”

In incredulity, I narrowed my eyes at him.

He rounded the table and sat next to me. Pressing his lips against my ear, he whispered, “Would you like me to apologize again?”

“I don’t remember you apologizing the first time.”

“Because I didn’t apologize with words.”

I craned my neck and shook my head.

He toyed with my hair, running his fingers through the length. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

I nodded.
 

He sucked his bottom lip in a sensuous way that made me beam.

We were almost to another kiss when his phone rang. He looked at it with disinterest at first. Immediately upon catching the name that appeared across the screen, he bristled. “I’m sorry, but I have to take this." He kissed my forehead and walked down the pier, the only words I heard before his voice faded were, “
Estou ocupado, mas que raio é que tu queres
?”

I ate the majority of my breakfast alone. The entire time it took to devour my food, Elias engaged in a volatile conversation with the individual on the other end of the line. Whomever he was communicating with, it made him so upset that he ended the conversation by breaking his phone. He held onto the banister, wringing his hands around the bar in a harsh manner. It seemed to calm him down, preparing him to return to me.

"Are you ready to go?" He eyed my plate, noting I ate practically everything

“Is everything okay?"

Pulling out my chair, he helped me to stand. “Why wouldn't it be?"

Catching my napkin from falling onto the floor from my lap, I placed it on the table and turned to regard him. “Um…because you’ll probably need a new phone in the near future.”

He cast an even warmer smile at me, erasing any concern I might’ve had that he was going to throw any of his bad mood at me. “I’m perfectly fine, Ley.” Taking both of my hands, his soft warm lips pressed against my cold fist, evoking a feeling that distracted me. With my hand in his, he led me back to the car.

“IT MUST BE nice to own the firm and not actually have to work the hours the architects do,” I stated as he began to drive back to his home. “God, I don’t miss the hours I had to put in to keep up with my coworkers.”

“My schedule is flexible. I have enough people working under me whom I trust. If I wanted to take a vacation for a month tomorrow, I could do that and phone in my work every now and then.”

Sighing, I looked out of the window. “What do you really do, Elias?”

He gave me a genuine smile, linking his fingers with mine as we held the gear shift together. “My profession hasn’t changed overnight. Why the question?”

“No reason,” I responded, dropping the subject.

THE MOMENT WE arrived back to his place, he let go of my hand and became visibly tense. A car, which I knew didn’t belong to Elias, was in the driveway. He had three cars in total. A white Q60 convertible wasn’t counted among his collection.

I checked the time shown on my cell phone. “I have to get to work in an hour.”

“Get dressed here and I’ll take you to work.”

“I have nothing to wear here.”

“Check the bedroom when we get inside.”
 

Shortly after we crossed the threshold to his home, I spied a statuesque woman with hair that belonged in a shampoo commercial milling around inside the kitchen. Her eyes told me she was old enough to be Elias’s mother, but her smooth skin and personal style made her look like his older sister. Her makeup was minimal but served to bring her dark features to the forefront.
 

Still unaware anyone was home, she fiddled with the espresso machine while muttering,
“Máquina de merda! Estou a ver que nada funciona corretamente nesta casa, incluindo o meu próprio filho.”
to herself.
 

Elias cleared his throat to gain her attention.

Smoothing out her brassy brown curly hair, she glanced over her shoulder at us. I caught her eye for a second too long as she scanned me from head to toe.
 

“What are you doing here?” Elias asked, his tone clipped and cold.

She spun around with her hands on her hips. Her heels clicked against the hard flooring with every step she took toward Elias and me. “I was told you spoke to your father this morning. I’m here to make sure you”—her hazel hues darted to me for a moment—“send those plans to your father. He said he hasn’t received them yet. You were in charge of the logistics.”

“There was a delay in customs,” Elias explained, his tone bored and contrived. “It will get done.”

She raised a brow. “Issues?”

“Increased duty fees,” he explained, “that’s all.”

“Greedy bastards,” she muttered. “Don’t ever delay on this again. You’re usually good about this, you seem…distracted.”

“Obviously not too distracted,” Elias grumbled.

She looked me over again. “Good. I’m glad you’re not
too
distracted. It’s interesting you’ve said that, because your assistant has told me you haven’t been putting enough hours in at work to—”

“Being that I don’t answer to you, I think you’re done,” Elias cut in, edging on the point of anger. “Don’t you?”

Putting her hands up in surrender, she smirked at him. “I know you don’t agree with the changes he’s made, but you know what happens when you disappoint your father.”

“Understood,” Elias pressed firmly.

“She’s a beautiful distraction,” she remarked as if I wasn’t standing there.
 

“Thank you,” I said sheepishly. “Hi, I’m—”

“I know who you are.” Returning to the kitchen, she grabbed her travel mug and replaced the lid. Waltzing past Elias and me, she headed to the front door. “Nice having breakfast with you, Elias. See you in Miami.”

I know who you are.
The words were enough to make me nervous. I abated my paranoia and gave Elias a smile. “Was that…your mother?” I asked, looking after her trail. “She is…gorgeous and ageless.”

“Her plastic surgeon designed her that way.”

“Was she upset over me being here?”

“This is my house now. Even if she cared, her opinion doesn’t matter. There is only one thing my mother cares about and you heard her talk about it.”

“I don’t know what I heard. It sounded like a lot of code language for something I hope it wasn’t. What’s going on in Florida?”

“The less you know, the better.” He wrapped his arms around me, kissing me gently. “Don’t worry about Miami. I’m not expecting you to go.”

“If I can, I want to go.”

“Forget about it.” He kissed me again. “I don’t want to plan that far ahead.”

I swallowed hard. “Do you mean…because we won’t be together that long?”

“I can’t predict the future. Can you?”

I’d given him more than I should’ve and he was beginning to pull back. My decision to spend the weekend with him became one I sorely regretted. “Just because I can’t read the future, doesn’t mean I don’t hope we will be together for a while. I hope we will be, don’t you?”

He looked at the time displayed on the microwave. “Get dressed and I’ll take you to work.”

Hesitating, I went to the bedroom. The door to his walk-in closet was open. On the right side, seven days’ worth of outfits and shoes were provided. I fingered the clothes, all in the black shades—shoe color excluded—I was forced to wear for work in the correct sizes. Cashmere, silk/wool blends, and Egyptian cotton tickled my fingertips.
 

Despite his suddenly cold reaction, the clothes and the care in which they’d been chosen indicated things were going as I had planned.

Smiling, I picked out the pencil skirt, a blouse, and blazer.

IN THE MIDDLE of helping a customer with her bra size at La Dentelle, Penelope called me over to the desk. “You’ve got a call, Hanley.” Penelope folded her arms and knitted her brows together. “A personal call.”
 

I picked up the phone to hear my father yelling in the background. “Hanley. It’s Nurse Barbara. I need you to get down here. Your father has turned violent for no reason. I can’t leave. I’ll lose my job, but if I stay I’m going to call the police on your father.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I promised.

DOWN THE HALLWAY, inside the den, my father ranted and raved while throwing various objects. The nurse looked frightened. Unable to speak to me, she just shook her head while saying two words I’d heard from several nurses before, “I quit.” But she added something other nurses never did. “At first I thought you were as crazy as your father. I know better now. You should go in that bedroom sometime. I think you might be surprised by what you see.”

In the den, my father had strewn books and magazines—anything he could get his hands on—around the room. The place looked like a disaster zone with the furniture overturned and decorative pieces lying shattered on the floor. “She’s not changing her line correctly. She’s going to give her a staph infection. They are all trying to kill her. Kill Frankie. It’s Mr. Natanael fucking Cari. He knows. He knows.” He turned toward me with accusatory eyes. “He knows because you turned on me. You told him, didn’t you? That boy. You love him and now you’ve turned on me. Your own father.”

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