Filthy Beautiful Love (2 page)

He nods. "I see."

We’re silent for several seconds and Colton’s hand twitches like he wants to touch me, but he doesn’t. Thank God.

"And would your running away to another country have anything to do with…Stella?"

I flinch involuntarily. I hate that he’s just said her name. It immediately conjures images of that day in the pool, when my whole little world shattered. In the country of Italy, her name should not exist.

"Will you tell me the story?" I ask.

"Anything you want to know."

"Are you getting divorced?"

"That’s up for debate."’

"Then I’m leaving." I turn for the door, my hand gripping the knob.

"No. Stay. Please hear me out," Colton pleads, prying my fingers from the door handle.

His hand on my skin sends a flash of heat through me at the memory of what those hands can do. He’s still the only man who’s made me come. I shudder as though the memory singes some part of me.

I hear a wave of girly laughter behind the door. It warms me to hear Becca enjoying herself, and it grounds me in the moment.  Turning to face Colton again, I draw a deep, calming breath. "Do you love her?"

"No." His voice is sure, steady. "I never loved her like I should have."

My shoulders relax just slightly. Even if my body wants to run, and my head is screaming at me to flee, my heart has grown attached to this man. And for better or worse, part of me needs to hear him out, to understand this messy situation I’ve found myself in. Maybe if I can make sense of it, then I can move on.

"Please let me explain, that’s all I’m asking." He raises his palms in a placating gesture.

I’ve never seen him look so devastated and broken. Dark circles line his eyes and he hasn’t shaved in days. Even though I’ve agreed to hear him out, a wave of nausea washes through me.
Am I prepared to handle whatever he’s about to tell me?
I fasten one hand against the wall for support. "I just need a minute…"

He releases a heavy exhale and I swear what looks like regret washes over his features.  "I will give you all the time you need, sweetness," he whispers.

The nickname against his lips presses like a weight onto my chest. My heart feels heavy, thudding dully against my ribcage.

Another fit of Becca’s giggles greet us from behind the door.

"He’s probably trying to de-pants her," Colton says.

"I don’t think she’d mind much."

"Should we check on our siblings while we’re giving you a minute?"

I nod. We might as well. I don’t think I’m ready to hear the entire sordid tale about how the man I was falling for is married and by the sounds of it, not necessarily planning to divorce. A stiff drink might help ease some of this ache in my chest too.

Back inside the cramped hotel room, Becca and Pace are standing near the open windows, deep in conversation. I’ve never seen her look so happy and chipper. She’s openly flirting and preening like a peacock, twirling a lock of hair around her finger and smiling up at him brightly. Our vacation is about to get a lot more interesting.

Realizing we’re back in the room, Becca turns to me. "Soph, did you know Pace spent a semester studying here in Rome? He’s going to take me sightseeing – show me all the best spots that aren't in those travel guides we bought."

So much for kicking Pace and Colton out. This was supposed to be a girl’s trip, but I won’t deny Becca anything, and I can tell she’d love to spend more time in Pace’s company. It’s that damn crooked grin and dimple of his that just beg you to come out and play.

"How did you know where I was?" I ask Colton.

"Kylie," he confirms.

I’d started working with Kylie at Colton’s charity organization a few days a week and it didn’t feel right to leave her hanging. And while I’d only intended to tell her that I would be out of town for a while, she somehow got me to spill the beans about my trip to Rome.

"When did you get here?" he asks.

"Last night." It’s almost noon, but with the jetlag and the wine we consumed last night, Becca and I haven’t unpacked a thing. It’s actually a small miracle we’re up and showered.

"I assume you haven’t had lunch yet. Let’s get you something to eat and I’ll explain everything." He turns to my sister who is for some reason squeezing Pace’s bicep while he grins adoringly down at her. "Pace, Becca, how about a quick bite to eat before you start your sightseeing?"

"I’m game," Pace says.

"Me too," Becca chimes in, grabbing her purse.

I want to sulk and stomp my feet and refuse to go, but denying myself food seems like a childish way to punish him. "There’s room service." I nod toward the menu sitting on top of the dresser.

"No way we’re sitting inside the room all day, Soph," Becca encourages. "Come on, it’s just lunch."

I shoot her a scowl.
Traitor
. I make a mental note to not be so nice to her. Like saving her some hot water for her shower this morning–that was a one-time deal. She might think she’s helping by interfering with me and Colt, but she’s not.

I gather up my belongings, my purse, sunglasses and the Euros I changed over before we left the airport, and follow the group to the elevator. This should be interesting.

Chapter Two

Sophie

The sidewalk café is beautiful and understated. Black wrought iron tables and chairs with fluffy wine-colored cushions, and ivy growing along a little trellis that separates the street from the sidewalk café complete the space. It’s sunny and clear with blue skies overhead, but not too warm, and I find it hard to hold onto my sour mood.

Colton suggests a white wine from a local vineyard and when it arrives, I’ve never tasted anything quite so light, crisp and refreshing. His impeccable taste is just one more thing that’s easy to love about him. But I can’t go there. Won’t. My body has already betrayed me by springing to life when he’s near, like when he helped me into my chair and his hand brushed against my lower back. It left my skin tingling. And when he slid out the chair across from me, his tall, commanding presence caused a little flutter in my chest. I need to keep myself in check.

His eyes roam over my exposed skin–my bare shoulders peeking from the tank top–and my chest and neck flush with heat.

I’m glad our siblings are picking up the slack when it comes to making conversation, because Colton and I remain completely silent. Small talk doesn’t seem to fit my mood and I’d have no idea what to say regardless. They chatter away without a care in the world while Colton and I exchange serious looks.

"So how long are you guys here?" Becca asks.

"Depends," Pace says.

"On?" I challenge. As far as I’m concerned, Colton has made his point, showing up here in some masculine display to claim his property. He can piss off now, thank you very much.

Colton’s sad eyes slide over to mine. "I want a chance," he says, his voice dark.

A chance to explain, or a chance with me? I’m thankful for the large wraparound sunglasses that shield my eyes from his.

"Isn’t that what she gave you all those weeks in LA?" Becca asks, coming to my rescue.

Thank you, God.
The sane and feisty sister I know and love is back. I look over at Becca, communicating my gratitude without needing to speak.

Colton watches the interaction happening between me and Becca, no doubt wondering what I’ve told her about my time in Los Angeles. I hope he knows me well enough to know I’d never divulge our secret.

"I fucked up. It was wrong not to tell you…" Colton’s voice is thick with emotion, unlike I’ve ever heard him before.

"Stella is a mega-beast who…" Pace starts.

Colton holds up one hand, silencing his brother. "No, Pace. This is my mess. I will fix it."

I have no idea why, but the sudden urge to ease his pain and anguish flares up inside me. "I’m here aren’t I?" I say, meeting Colton’s eyes. Of course, I’m not brave enough to remove the cover of my sunglasses, but still.

His sad look dissipates ever so slightly.

An hour later, we’re on our second bottle of wine before the waitress even thinks to bring the lunch menu. I realize that Colton’s suggestion of grabbing a
quick bite to eat
is quickly turning into an all afternoon affair. The pace of this country's meal times are nothing like the US.

"Let’s order some lunch, shall we?" Pace, asks, handing me a menu printed entirely in Italian.

Our food is finally delivered, and while we eat Becca opens up about her treatment. I can’t help but notice Colton leans forward on his elbows to absorb every word. He knows the hefty price tag for the treatment was made possible by his generous winning bid. And maybe it’s the charitable side to him, but I can see in his reverent expression that something inside of him feels proud to have helped.

When Becca probes Colton about his work, he makes some offhand remark about investment banking and then launches into a detailed discussion about his charity foundation. They’re close to fulfilling their mission in Africa. The new school he’s built will have their grand opening soon.

Becca is in awe listening to him – clearly he’s a great catch who just got even better in her eyes.

"Sophie’s work is missed. She was a big help those weeks spent getting Kylie caught up." He reaches for my hand and I move it under the table.

Though the conversation buzzes around me, I can barely keep up. My head is filled with questions about Colton’s marriage to a woman he admittedly doesn’t love. Why did he marry her? Where has she been while I’ve been sleeping in their bed? My entire relationship with him now feels tainted.

Despite our precarious start to things, I’d started to believe that he’d been brought into my life for a reason. Sent to me like a guardian angel to heal Becca and awaken me sexually. I’d spent two months living with him, growing close, falling for him.

I wonder now more than ever about why he never slept with me. Was it because he didn’t want to be unfaithful to his wife?

"Sophie?" Colton’s voice cuts through the one in my head. "More wine?"

I shake my head. "I’d rather just get going back to the hotel."

He checks his watch and frowns. "Okay. That should be all right."

We finish our lunch of insalata, warm bread, white wine and several bottles of sparkling water. After Colton pays for the meal, Pace and Becca rise from the table, looking slightly tipsy and eager to set off on their exploration.

Colton and I walk side by side in silence all the way back to the hotel. But there are so many new sights, sounds and smells to take in, that I hardly notice the stiff uncomfortable silence that’s settled between us. Just navigating the uneven cobblestone streets in my strappy sandals takes extra concentration.

When we reach the hotel, Colt opens the door and ushers me through, his warm palm once again settling against my spine and leaving a rush of tingles in its wake.

A young man dressed in a hotel uniform stops us in the lobby.

"A new key for you, Miss." His Italian accent caresses the words, making them sound much sexier than they are.

"I have a key." I hold it up.

"Yes, but for your new suite. Floor seventeen." He folds the key card in my hand while simultaneously removing the old one.

I recall Colton stopping to talk in hushed voices with the concierge before we left the hotel. Is this his doing?

He raises an eyebrow and shrugs. "I just wanted you to be comfortable."

I bite my tongue to avoid pointing out that I’d been more comfortable before he appeared and started interfering, but deep down inside, I know he’s just trying to be nice, as annoying as it might be. He can’t win me back with thoughtful gestures and sweet remarks. Call me crazy, but I have a rule about dating man who are married: I don’t.

"You shouldn’t have," I bite out and turn for the elevator, punching the button repeatedly with my thumb. I notice Colton waiting beside me and I give him a pointed stare. "I guess you can wait in the lobby for Becca and Pace’s sightseeing date to end."

"You promised me we could talk," he says, his tone making clear his displeasure.

Yes, but that was before the wine and the possessive stares he treated me to all during lunch. I don’t trust myself alone in a room with him right now. "I don’t think being alone in a hotel room with a married man is proper."

He releases a low growl of frustration just as the elevator doors open and drags me inside.

Warning bells are going off inside my head. I’m about to be alone with a man who still holds power over my heart despite his unavailable relationship status.

Be strong, Sophie.

Colton

Pinning Sophie to the wall of the elevator, my hands clench into fists above her head. It’s taking every ounce of self-control I have not to push my hips into hers and claim her mouth. I know I’ve lost the right, but my body refuses to understand that.

I can see her pulse thrumming in her neck as I bend down near her ear. "Don’t push me right now. My emotions are all over the fucking place – something very new for me, I can assure you."

She shoves both hands against my chest, pushing me back several paces. "Oh,
your
emotions are all over the place? Try putting yourself in my shoes." Her voice rises frantically. "I was buck-naked in your goddamn pool trying to seduce you when your
wife
showed up." The word wife is spat from her mouth like a sour bomb.

"You ran out on me before I had the chance to explain. You wouldn’t answer my calls and now I’ve flown six thousand miles just to set the record straight with you." I take a deep breath and straighten my posture. Arguing with her won’t get me anywhere. Of course she has a right to be mad. "Listen, Soph. I needed to see you. I'm coming upstairs to talk to you."

After an intense standoff her gaze falls to the floor as she realizes further negotiation will be pointless. "What floor am I on?"

"Top floor," I answer. The best suite they have. Obviously.