Found in You (3 page)

“That’s it, Alayna.” His face contorted. “Fuck, that’s… it…” His voice broke as he came, shoving deeper into me as his climax erupted.

My hand fell to the table, my body numb.

He smiled as he pulled out. “How was that?”

He knew the answer. The perv wanted to hear me say it.

I grinned. “You can fuck me good morning anytime you want.”

“I wouldn’t mind fucking you good morning every morning.” He reached behind him to grab a paper towel off the kitchen counter while I pretended not to read a million things into his statement. I continued to pretend while he cleaned himself up and did up his pants.

He raised his brows and gestured toward me. For a moment I thought he might know what I was thinking—how being with him every morning implied living with him, how that was too soon, how I never thought anything was too soon because I was an obsessive freak who wanted to cling, how I was ultimately unable to handle such a proposition with my history.

Then I realized he was simply asking if I needed the paper towels, too. “I’m jumping in the shower.” Shit, he hadn’t said I could stay. “If that’s okay, I mean.” Was it totally inappropriate for me to ask if I could lounge around his place while he went to work? Because until that very second, that’s exactly what I had planned.

Hudson reached his hand out to help me down from my perch. Reaching around me, he grabbed the ends of my sash and tied it at my waist. “It’s more than okay. I want you to stay. I planned that you would stay.” Which meant I would likely find women’s shampoo and conditioner in the shower, too.

Hudson’s phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his suit pocket to read his text message. “My driver’s here. Seems I used up the time I meant to spend giving you the penthouse tour.”

I shrugged. “Whoops.”

“You’ll have to explore on your own.” He walked to the kitchen sink and washed his hands.

“Are you giving me permission to snoop? Because it sounds like you are and you don’t understand—I’m a snooper.”

He chuckled. “I don’t doubt it. I have nothing to hide. Snoop away. Use the gym. Take a nap. There’s food in the fridge. Do and take whatever you like. You work at eight tonight?”

“Yes.” I’d stopped being surprised by Hudson’s omniscient way of knowing my schedule. It was the sort of thing I’d usually do—memorize a guy’s schedule, find out all the details of his life. It was kind of nice to be on the other side of that for once.

“Good. I’ll make sure I’m home by six.” Home. He said it like it was our place, not his. Another ping of anxiety stabbed at my chest. “We’ll have dinner together before you leave.”

“I hope you aren’t expecting me to cook.”
Or to not latch on.

“Don’t be silly. I’ll arrange for the cook to come.”

I nodded, my insides turned into knots by Hudson’s easiness about our relationship.

“Oh, and the books for the library should be here today. There’s an intercom there.” He pointed to the wall by the light switch. “And one in the hallway by the elevators and a third one in the bedroom. When security buzzes up, you can approve the delivery and the guard will let them up.”

“Sure thing.” Trusting me with intercoms and security…this was getting bigger by the minute. “Wait, books?”

“Yes, I ordered a few books. Since you said it was your favorite part of the library.”

“Right.” It had been part of our charade for his mother. She didn’t believe I had ever been to Hudson’s penthouse and, of course, I hadn’t. Meaning to trick me, she’d asked me what my favorite room was. I had said the library. An avid reader, the library was a natural room for me to choose, and I mentioned my love of books to Sophia. Apparently, though, Hudson’s library didn’t have any books.

Not at the time, anyway. “I still feel somehow tricked about that whole thing, by the way. But when did you have a chance to order them?”

The conversation had only taken place on Sunday when we’d been at his parent’s place in the Hamptons. The day I voiced for the first time that I was falling in love. The day before he’d left me alone with his family while he went to try to save one of his companies, Plexis, from being sold.

“I ordered them Monday night from my hotel. After the deal with Plexis.” His voice held the slightest hint of disappointment when he said the name of his company. His disappointment mirrored how I was suddenly feeling. “What is it?”

I considered saying nothing, but the
talk it out
mantra replayed in my head. “It’s silly, but I’d convinced myself you hadn’t called me or anything because you didn’t have time. But it seems you did.” Hudson had left me without anything but a brief text. He didn’t call or contact me until more than a day later. I had believed we were over then. I’d been devastated and heartbroken. Now I found he was ordering books when he could have been calling me? “Like I said, it’s silly.”

Hudson tugged me into his arms. “I was trying to not be with you at the time, Alayna. But I couldn’t sleep that night. Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He kissed me on the forehead as I furrowed my brow. “Tell me—what’s going on in there?”

“It’s just…” How could I express the myriad of emotions that I’d been through that morning? Especially this growing fear tugging at my gut—this fear that anything that seemed too good to be true usually was.

I took a shaky breath. “You’ve made a complete one-eighty, Hudson. About you and me. You were so intent to be only sex only half a day ago. And now…who are you?” It scared me. It made me doubt what he felt. It made me wonder if he was playing games with me.

Hudson cupped my face in his hands and pierced me with his deep gray eyes. “Don’t do that. I mean it.”

He widened his eyes, making sure I was with him.

I was.

“I’m the same man, Alayna. A man who commits to whichever plan he’s chosen. I had told myself I couldn’t have you. So I didn’t let myself even try.”

“And now you’ve let yourself.” I said it like a statement, but it was really a question. A question that I absolutely needed answered.

“Yes. And I will commit to this new plan as fiercely as the other. Even more fiercely. Because that plan was a compromise.” He pressed his forehead against mine. “This plan is the one I should have pursued to begin with. It’s the better plan.”

My throat tightened. “The plan with the greater potential of profit.”

“Unfathomable potential.” He parted his lips and bent in for a kiss, sucking gently as he moved his mouth over mine. It was a sweet and tender kiss and it ended too quickly. “I have to go. Save more of that for later.”

“Always.”

I walked with him to the foyer. He retrieved his briefcase from the closet then kissed my forehead once more before stepping into the elevator. We stood, eyes latched until the doors closed.

As soon as he was gone, I fell against the foyer wall. Oh my god, was this really happening? Was I really making myself at home in the penthouse of my billionaire boyfriend? I felt like Cinderella. Or Julia Roberts in
Pretty Woman
. Did Hudson really want me in his life like this or was I completely insane?

I was insane. Insanely happy.

With a squeal, I ran to the living room and threw myself on the sofa. I closed my eyes and replayed the morning in my mind—waking up in Hudson’s bed, the hot sex on the kitchen table. But what I focused on the most were his words.

I’d like to fuck you good morning every morning.

I’ll be home by six.

I couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Unfathomable potential.

After several minutes of grinning so widely my cheeks hurt, the doubts started to creep in again, as they always did. Was it truly possible for Hudson to change so completely, seemingly overnight? Or was I merely a game he was playing? Maybe he wasn’t even conscious of what he was doing and he was manipulating me and my emotions out of habit.

Or maybe, like I, he didn’t know how to do this relationship thing and he was simply acting the way he thought he should, even if that meant rushing.

Possibly it was all completely genuine. I felt those things for him after all. I wanted to be with him every day, all the time. I was ready for that commitment level, even though I wouldn’t have said so two days before.

But I jumped into things, clung too quickly. That was my way.

Maybe it was Hudson’s way too.

I sat up and glanced around the room. I had been serious when I’d said I was a snooper and usually I’d jump right on that. But I didn’t feel the need to at the moment. I did feel the need to get in the shower and clean up. I was still sticky from the evening before, not to mention our morning activities.

I went back to the master bedroom, noting on the way a closed door that most likely led to the library as well as another bedroom. In the master, I stepped into the closet Hudson had retrieved my robe from. It was a walk-in and was mostly empty except for one rack of clothes. There were a few dresses most likely meant for the club, several pairs of shorts, jeans and sweat pants, and a rack of tops. One dresser drawer was partially opened so I pulled it out the rest of the way and found panties and bras. There was also a negligee. I guess I knew what Hudson wanted me to wear to bed that night.

I let out a happy sigh and headed to the bathroom, this time noticing a closed door on my way. I peeked in and discovered it was a second walk-in closet, this one full of Hudson’s clothing. I walked through, running my hands along the rows of suits. Was it ridiculous how much I adored seeing his clothes like this? It felt so personal, so intimate. As if by being in the center of his closet, I was in the center of his life. I twirled around slowly, basking in the metaphor. It felt warm and completely right.

My shower was long and hot. If I’d been in my studio apartment, I’d have run out of hot water long before the time I finally stepped out from the luxuriating pulse of Hudson’s deluxe showerhead. I wrapped a towel around my body and put my hair in a turban, then left the bathroom to pick out some clothes from my closet.

My closet.

But once I was in the bedroom, I heard voices coming from the main part of the apartment and a click of heels on the marble floor in the foyer.

It couldn’t be the housekeeper—not only was she not due in that day, but she would have been alone. And surely she wouldn’t be wearing heels. Maybe Hudson had forgotten to tell me something. Like, that his mother was visiting. God, wouldn’t that just be the way to ruin my day?

I bit my lip. My phone was in my purse, which was still in the living room, so I couldn’t call or text Hudson to ask who could be in his house. I glanced at the intercom. Should I call down to security? But whoever was there had gotten past security without a problem. Whoever it was had a key.

And from the sound of her heels and soprano voice, it was a woman.

Pressing my body tight against the wall, I peered around the doorframe and down the hall. Her back toward me, I saw a woman dressed in a light blue sundress, directing men with boxes toward the library. Her hair, wrapped into a loose yellow bun at her nape, was what gave her away.

It was the woman Hudson grew up with. The woman Hudson had falsely claimed he’d gotten pregnant. The woman Hudson’s mother had wanted him to marry.

It was Celia Werner.

Chapter Three

One of the deliverymen spotted me and nodded his head in my direction. Panic bubbled in my chest as Celia turned to see what he was gesturing at. I ducked back around the corner, but not before she saw me.

“Laynie?”

Shit, shit, shit.
I didn’t want to see her, didn’t want her to see me.

Her heels clicked as she walked down the hall toward the bedroom. “Alayna, is that you?” She peeked into the room and found me pressed against the wall, still dressed only in a towel.

“Hi.”

“Wow.” Her smile brightened as her eyes moved up and down my body, taking in my lack of clothing. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”

This was ridiculous. I was acting like I’d been caught doing something wrong, but I hadn’t. I had every right to be there and, as far as I knew, Celia did not.

I straightened my back and stepped away from the wall. “I didn’t expect you either. Hudson didn’t say you were delivering the books.”

Celia shook her head. “He didn’t know. He ordered them through my office and my schedule was open today, so I thought I’d make sure they got here okay and help unpack them if need be.”

“You have a key.” It was honestly the only thing going through my mind at that point, and I hated how pathetic I sounded mentioning it. I had a key too, after all.

She leaned her shoulder against the door jam. “I do. Since I did the interior decorating. We’re always updating, and we thought it was easiest for me to keep a key.” Her eyes glanced over to the unmade bed, sheets in disarray from my night with Hudson. When she looked back at me, her smile seemed wider. “I did buzz though before I came up and there was no answer.”

“I was in the shower.”

“I see that.” She winked, and I knew she was saying that she was seeing more than me wrapped in a towel. She was getting the whole picture.

Well, good. I was glad. Then I wouldn’t have to feel like a jerk when I spelled it out for her. Hudson and I were together now. Whatever anyone else had ever planned for Celia and Hudson, it was moot. I was the one he’d chosen. End of discussion.

Except that discussion had only occurred in my head. Some things probably still had to be said out loud.

Celia seemed to be thinking the same thing. “Look, let me get finished with the delivery guys and you can get dressed. Then we can chat or whatever. It seems we have some catching up to do.”

She shut the door behind her, and I let out a deep breath. I wasn’t sure why Celia’s presence was giving me so much anxiety. She wasn’t a threat to me. She felt like one, though. I’d been jealous of her since I’d met her. As Hudson’s oldest friend, she knew him better than anyone. He told her things. He kept her secrets. She’d been the only one who knew about Hudson and me pretending to be a couple. It was an intimate friendship they had.

Hudson had insisted that friendship was the only thing between them. I had to trust that or the envy would tear me apart. The whole charade had started in the first place so that Celia and Hudson’s parents would stop trying to pair up the two. If there really had been something between them, then why would I have been brought into the middle?

I’d only discovered the day before that the reason the Werners and Sophia Pierce were so keen on playing matchmaker was because they thought Hudson and Celia had been together in the past. They thought Hudson was the father of the baby Celia had miscarried. But he wasn’t, and they had never been together. The truth was worse—Hudson had played Celia, had tricked her into falling for him, had sent her spiraling into depression and wild partying. So when she’d ended up pregnant, he felt responsible and claimed parentage.

In a way, Hudson
had
been responsible. But he wasn’t the man of his youth anymore. He wasn’t so responsible that his games had to follow him for the rest of his life. I couldn’t believe that. Otherwise I would have to believe the same about the things I’d done to others. Certainly even people like us—people who had been so broken that we destroyed others around us—deserved happiness of our own. We didn’t have to spend our entire existence making up for our mistakes. Did we?

I brushed the guilty thoughts out of my mind and quickly changed into a dress I could wear to the club later. I threw my wet hair into a bun and took a deep breath before opening the door.

The delivery men had already left, and I found Celia straightening a row of boxes into an orderly line. There were dozens of boxes, many more than I had anticipated. “Damn. He went all out, didn’t he?”

Celia looked up from her task. “He always does. But as I’m sure you’ve noticed, he has lots of shelves to fill.”

I scanned the room for the first time. A large mahogany desk sat at the far end surrounded by a curved wall of windows. Two armchairs and a long sofa created a sitting area in the middle of the room. A beautiful marble fireplace graced the center of one wall with a large flat-screen television set centered above it. The rest of the wall space was filled with shelves. Shelves and shelves—a booklover’s dream. Except that only one small section near the desk had any books on it.

“Uh, yeah. These boxes are barely going to put a dent in that shelf space.”

“He ordered more, but this is what was already in stock. The rest should come in the next few days or so. And, yes, he’ll still have a lot of empty space. Maybe you can help him fill the rest.”

Was that supposed to be a leading statement? Was she trying to get me to open up about Hudson?

If she wanted to know, she’d have to come out and ask. I responded to her statement with a simple, “Maybe.” I joined her in pushing the boxes into a line against the wall, doing a count of them as I did. Twenty-seven in total. Guess I knew how I was spending my afternoon. Unpacking books—the thought had me more excited than it should.

I nudged the last box into line with the others and turned to find Celia staring at me, arms crossed over her chest, one light brow cocked. “So. You and Hudson.”

“Yeah. Crazy, right?” Celia had only ever been nice to me. Why was this so awkward?

“It’s real then? You’re
really
together?”

“We are. No more pretending. It’s the real deal now.” It felt strange to say that. With other relationships my declarations were most likely exaggerations. Was I exaggerating now?

No. I wasn’t. This was real.

“Since when?” The question didn’t sound disbelieving, but curious. Excited, even. “I was with him Monday and he didn’t say anything had changed between you, though he did seem awfully lovesick. I thought he was being moody about his business-whatever that was going on. But now that I see you here, I’m thinking it was about you.”

Celia had driven Hudson from his parents’ house in the Hamptons to the airport for his business emergency with Plexis. “Just since yesterday. When he came back from Cincinnati, we sort of had it out and then—” I suddenly realized the source of the awkwardness. Though Celia and Hudson hadn’t ever been together for real, she had thought she loved him. I had no reason to be jealous of her, but she had plenty reason to be jealous of me. “Is this weird for me to talk about?”

“Weird? Why?” Her face relaxed with understanding. “Oh, he told you.”

“He did.” I wasn’t sure how she’d feel knowing I knew such intimate details of her life. “I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable.”

“No, not at all. It surprises me. He’s never talked about it with anyone. I’m not even sure he told his therapist.” She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. “What exactly did he say? Do you mind me asking?”

“Of course not, it’s only fair I tell you. But can we sit down first?” Maybe sitting would get rid of the confrontational feeling between us.

She nodded and we made our way to the sofa. I sat facing her, my legs curled up underneath me. “Well. He, um, explained about how he, uh, made you fall for him and then slept with your best friend. He said it was all a game. Which makes sense now, how you knew that he did that to women.” Celia had been the one who’d filled me in on Hudson’s mind games.

“Yep. I spoke from experience.” Her voice had lost some of its usual cheerfulness, but nothing seemed to indicate that talking to me was painful or unpleasant.

Her ease helped me go on. “And he told me about the baby.”

I watched her chest rise and fall before she responded. “What did he say about that?”

“That you didn’t know who the father was, so he said it was his. So you wouldn’t be disowned or disgraced or whatever. Since he felt responsible for the situation.” Even though none of the information was new to Celia—she’d lived it, after all—a part of me felt guilty for sharing things Hudson had told me in confidence.

Another part of me, a bigger part, wanted to know more about his rocky past and getting anything out of him was difficult, to say the least. Celia’s unexpected arrival brought an opportunity to learn, and I wasn’t throwing that away.

“Hmm. Well, that about covers all of it.” She tapped a long peach-painted nail on her knee as she processed. “Silly Hudson. He shouldn’t feel responsible for anything. I was a grown woman. I can own up to my actions. He doesn’t still feel that way, does he?”

“Yeah. I think he still does.” I didn’t think he did, I knew it. It was the reason he kept himself so closed off, the reason it had been so hard for him to let me in. Because of his mother or his therapist or for whatever reason, he’d been conditioned to believe that he was incapable of caring for anyone, and the horrible things he’d done to people such as Celia was his proof. That he could take his friend and manipulate her life, cause her to act so recklessly that she got pregnant from a stranger and then lost her child—that was evidence to Hudson that he was a despicable person. Because no decent person would do that in his mind.

But to me, the fact that he was so traumatized by the things he’d put Celia through was evidence of the contrary—he could feel. He cared enough to regret his actions. That didn’t show heartlessness. That showed humanity.

Celia rolled her eyes. “That’s ridiculous. He really needs to get over himself. That was practically a decade ago now. It’s old news.”

I agreed on that count. Maybe by finally having love in his life, Hudson would learn to move on.

As for Celia, I wasn’t sure she had yet. “So you don’t still have feelings for Hudson?” It wasn’t hard for me to imagine harboring an unrequited love for ten years because I obsessed. The only reason I’d gotten over some of my past obsessions was because I’d had therapy. Not that Celia suffered from the obsessive disorder I did, but it wasn’t unheard of to be in love with your friend for years and nothing ever coming of it. It was the material of great books.

What did that make me? In Celia’s story, was I the villain?

Possibly I was over-dramatizing. As always.

Celia leaned forward and put her hand over mine, taking me off-guard. “I totally have feelings for him, Laynie. He’s my best friend. I’ve loved him since I met him which was before I could even talk. But I’m not in love with him. I don’t think I ever was. He played me and I thought…well, anyway, I’m not now. My mother will tell you differently, but she believes what she wants. If I was in love with him, I would have let that arranged marriage thing work out instead of supporting a sham to throw our parents off.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” I took my hand away from hers before it felt creepy. It already felt creepy—I wasn’t much of a touchy-feely person. “Then it doesn’t bother you that we’re together?”

“Bother me? I’m happy for him! For both of you, actually. Truthfully, I was beginning to think Sophia was right, that he couldn’t possibly love anyone because he’d never shown any inclination toward anyone. Except to mess with them, of course. It was really very sad. This is definitely a change for the better.”

I wanted to be happy with her. Except when she’d brought up Hudson’s past, it reawakened one of my greatest fears.

“What did I say?” Celia asked.

She must have seen the worry in my expression. I never did have a good poker face. “Nothing.” It was probably best that I didn’t say anything. Only, Celia might be the one person I could talk to about it. The one person who would understand and give me insight.

I shifted, bringing my knees up to my chest. “It’s just, I’ve been worrying it was too good to be true, and I keep wondering if maybe I’m…if he’s…”

“If he’s playing you, too?”

My brown eyes met her blues. “Yes.”

She nodded once and frowned. “That is something I’d worry about.”

Well, that wasn’t the consolation I was hoping for.

“I’m not saying you should be worried,” she added. “It would just cross my mind as a possibility. Especially knowing his past, and since this arrangement or relationship he has with you is so entirely different than anything he’s ever had before.”

“You know him, what do you think?” Jesus, my lip quivered when I spoke. How pathetic was I?

She tapped her finger on her knee again. “I don’t think he’s playing that game anymore. Really, I don’t. He’s had counseling, and it’s been a good two years since he’s had any…incidents.”

I made a mental note to ask what she meant about incidents at another time. Right now, though, it wasn’t enough of a priority to interrupt.

“I guess he could be having a relapse, but…” Her words trailed off. “What has he said to you?”

“That he wants to be with me. That’s he’s committed to making a relationship work.” Or similar things that I didn’t want to share. They were my words and not meant to be given away to just anyone.

Celia scooted an inch closer to me as if we were in a room full of people and she was about to divulge a secret. “Let me tell you something about Hudson and the way he plays women. He doesn’t lie. Ever. That’s the brilliant part of his manipulative skills. He never says anything that you can throw back at him later. It’s all truth spun to make you read more into what he’s saying. He makes you think he’s offering more than what he’s really offering without ever saying the words. You know what I mean?”

“I think so.” Now that I thought about it, I knew exactly what she meant. Hudson chose his words so precisely and handled himself with such care that I could see how he’d be able to spin any situation so that he’d have the upper hand. It was what made him a good businessman, I imagined.