Lost Heartbeats (Alexander & Maya Book 2) (17 page)

“Are you ready yet?” I asked yet again.

A chuckle came from the bathroom. “You just asked me two minutes ago, Maya.”

“Well? Are you?”

An amused smile on his lips, he strode into the bedroom, his fingers working quickly as he buttoned up his shirt.

“Almost.”

“Ok. Hurry,” I said, my eyes never leaving his body. Black slacks. White button-up shirt. Something so simple had never looked so good on any human being.

When he tucked in his shirt and then started to roll up his sleeves, I got a good look at the light dusting of hair on his arms; there was absolutely no way I could hold back the groan that left my lips.

“What’s wrong?” Alexander asked, frowning at me.

“Nothing. Nothing,” I said, tearing my eyes away.

What was it with that specific body part that drove all the women crazy?

“You look beautiful in your new dress,” he murmured, hugging me to his body from behind.

He had sent over another dress for me to wear out for dinner, just as he had done my last night in New York. I couldn’t help but remember the words Claire had spoken to me that night as I put on the dress.

“He enjoys dressing up his conquests because he wants them to look good next to him. You see, his image is more important to him than anything
else.”

I wasn’t sure if the reason I could still remember her words was because I believed what she had said, or just because she was good at making you doubt what you could clearly see with your own eyes.

“Where did you go?” he asked into my ear.

“I’m right here.” Turning my head, I pressed my temple against his cheek. “I don’t want to lie to you, Alexander.”

His body stilled, and he slowly turned me to face him in his arms.

“Lie to me about what?”

“Our last night, the night I found Claire in my room? Well, she said it was something you did with every woman you slept with. I didn’t believe—”

“Don’t talk to me in riddles, Maya. Tell me what she said, and I’ll tell you if she lied or not.”

“Okay. I’m not saying I believed her. I’m just…” I sighed. “She said the dress I was wearing that night, the one you bought for me, well, she said you always gifted clothes to your conquests because you care about how they look next to you. And that the dress I was wearing was something you would want to see on her.”

The look in his eyes was part shock, part anger. A whole lot of anger.

“Maya,” he started and stopped. For a split second, he seemed to be lost for words. “Maya, I would never care about something like that. You don’t have to wear it if you feel this way about it. I know you didn’t get to bring all your clothes with, and you haven’t really had the time to shop so I thought it would make you happy.” He let go of me and took a step back. “You can’t possibly believe that I bought you this dress just so you would look good next to me.”

“I didn’t say I believed her, Alexander. I just told you what she said.”

“You wouldn’t have the need to tell me this if you didn’t believe her.

“I don’t want to argue over this.”

He ran his hand through his hair, a telltale sign of his frustration and anger.

“Sweetheart,” he said, holding my face in his hands. “You do look beautiful right now, but do you know when I can’t take my eyes off you?

I shook my head. I was lost in the depth of his blues.

“When you are wearing my shirt.” Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes. One of his hands dipped down from my shoulder and slowly made it to my wrist. Lifting my hand, he placed it over his heart. When I looked up, he was staring back at me. “This morning. That sweet smile on your lips. That satisfied, peaceful look. That’s how I want to see you every day. To me, that’s when you look the most beautiful. Unfortunately, I can’t let other men see you like that. That’s only for my eyes.”

While I melted in his arms, he added, “So, you see, I don’t care what you wear as long as I’m the only one who sees you in my clothes. It’s me who doesn’t look good enough next to you.”

“I’m sorry,” I said when he stopped.

“Sorry for what?”

“Sorry for letting her words get to me. And I’m not used to getting expensive presents like this. Don’t get me wrong, I love it. It’s beautiful. But I couldn’t help but think…”

“I don’t want you to think about whatever bullshit she spewed at you, Maya. She is not the one who matters. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I think so,” I said slowly.

“Good.” He pressed a small kiss on my forehead, his hand still covering mine over his hard chest. “You still want to go out for dinner? Or would you prefer to stay in instead?”

“I want to go out with you.”

Kissing me softly, he smiled against my mouth.

“Let’s go and feed you, then. I’m starving.”

***

Thankfully, the car ride wasn’t long and we made it to the restaurant just in time for our reservation.

We sat next to each other in the beautiful restaurant in a perfectly intimate corner reserved just for us. My eyes didn’t see anything other than Alexander anyway. He seemed to be as relaxed as I was. As the night progressed, we talked about my father and how he would react to me leaving the café behind to come to New York.

“He wouldn’t mind,” I said, taking a bite of my delicious salmon. “He would be happy for me.”

“You sure?” he asked, holding my hand under the table as his thumb traced circles around my skin.

“Yes. He would probably find it funny considering he left New York to go after his own happiness. Ironic, isn’t it?”

“You are happy?” he asked. There was something in his tone that made me glance at him.

Realizing he was actually interested in my answer, I teased, “Well, it doesn’t hurt that you are easy on the eyes.”

He leaned over and kissed me in front of everyone. Before I could protest, his tongue slipped into my mouth, and he took my breath away with the burning intensity of his kiss. When he finally leaned back, I was a panting mess.

Quickly looking around, I saw at least a few people staring at us, but Alexander’s fingers gently moved my head back toward him.

“What was that for?” I asked when he kept looking at me.

“It was me showing everyone that you belong to me.”

His lips touched mine again, but this time, it was short. Still sweet, but thankfully short.

“That is wrong on so many levels, but I have to admit, it sounds nice coming from your lips.”

The heat that flashed in his eyes was more than welcome.

He rested his forehead against mine. “Do I belong to you, Maya?”

His words were a barely whisper.

A gentle caress on my heart.

“Do you?” I asked back just as quietly.

“I want to,” he answered.

This time, it was me who reached for his lips, giving him a silent answer.

“Alexander.”

A voice boomed somewhere behind me, and I parted from him with a guilty look on my face.

“Dad,” Alexander answered calmly, looking behind me.

My head snapped around and I found myself looking into the eyes of a nearly exact replica of Alexander. Older, but practically identical. Even the color of their eyes matched.

His father gave me an unimpressed look and met Alexander’s eyes again. I was mortified.

“When you are done here, join us for dessert before you leave.”

“I don’t think tonight will work for me,” he answered his father’s implied order.

Noticing the hard set of his jaw, I kept my eyes firmly on Alexander.

“See me before you leave.”

That was all I heard before Alexander cursed and leaned back in his seat.

“Off all the days,” he murmured angrily.

“If you have to go, it’s okay, I can wait for you here,” I said, playing with the food on my plate.

“It will go much quicker if you are with me. Besides, it’s nothing important. I know he wanted to talk to me about the construction for the hotel in Las Vegas. He must be here with Liza, Jackson’s mother. We’ll be out of here in ten minutes.”

We finished the rest of our dinner in a heavy silence. After his father’s little visit, I didn’t feel like eating anyway. As it turned out, he’d had the same effect on Alexander, too.

As we stood up and navigated between the tables to get to his father, I wondered if their relationship had always been this strained.

When we finally reached their table—almost at the other end of the place—and I saw who was sitting with them, my brain was screaming at me to turn around and drag Alexander out with me.

“Hello, Alex,” said Claire’s sugary sweet voice as Alexander came to a halt a few feet away from their table.

“You brought your…friend,” said Alexander’s father—or more like spat out.

Alexander’s hand tightened around mine and he dragged me with him.

“Bennett, Liza, this is Maya.”

Cutting the introductions short, he grabbed a chair and motioned for me to sit. Right across from Claire. Quickly, he took his seat next to me and reached for my hand under the table again. I didn’t know if I was giving him strength or if he was the one trying to calm me down.

If I hadn’t thought I would embarrass him, I would’ve loved to wipe that smirk off of Claire’s face, but I didn’t think it would be wise. Not in front of his family.

“How are you, Alex? We don’t see you around lately,” his stepmother, Liza said in a cold voice as she took a small sip from her wine glass.

“Working,” he answered shortly, his eyes moving back to his father. “You wanted to talk about Las Vegas?”

“Alex,” Liza said as she clucked her tongue, a weird look dancing in her eyes as if she was amused. “Aren’t you going to say hello to Claire? Your wife?”

I supposed that last bit was meant to hurt me since her eyes caught mine for the first time since I’d sat down as she spoke the words. Alexander’s hand tightened again, and I wondered if my hand would still be intact by the time we got back to the hotel.

Placing my other hand on top of Alexander’s forearm, I gave Liza a sweet smile, feeling anything but sweet at that moment.

“We had our last talk with Claire just a few days ago, Liza. I’m sure she will fill you in on it, if she hasn’t already.”

“Alex,” Claire started, her voice filled with anger.

So the bitch was back. I wondered what had changed.

After I had seen her so broken back at the hotel when she saw me with Alexander, I admit, for a second there I thought she was giving up on him, or, hell, I don’t know, I guess I was still expecting her to act guilty at least. She had butchered their marriage after all.

“Dad.” Alexander ground out the word through clenched teeth. “If you’ll excuse us—”

Before he could straighten up, his father said firmly, “Sit down, Alex. Have you thought about my offer? I know you’ve been busy dealing with that boy’s sudden death, and when I tried to reach—”

His father was still talking, but I was staring at him in shock as his words penetrated my mind.

That boy’s sudden death?

Who were these people? How could they even…

Closing my mouth shut before I called his father out, I tuned out his voice and glanced at Alexander. He was as hard as a rock. My own beautiful statue. His locked jaw was tight, and I spotted the vein in his neck ticking. When he spoke, his words were quiet and strained. I wasn’t hearing anything they were saying, but my heart hurt for the man that was sitting next to me.

I knew how much he had loved that boy. How much he cared about him. How much he had seen him as his own child. Maybe if Claire hadn’t killed the shots he’d had at fatherhood, his own kid would’ve been close to Lucas’ age.

Taking a deep breath to calm myself down, I gently pried my hand from his tight hold and laced our fingers together. That was the only way I could touch him in front of these people. These ignorant, stuck up people who didn’t deserve to have him in their lives.

As Alexander and his father kept talking business, Claire and Liza fell into their own conversation, ignoring my presence completely, which suited me just fine. Perfectly actually, because I didn’t know if I could be civil around Claire if I was expected to exchange words with her.

A waiter came and served crème brûlée to everyone at the table.

I couldn’t touch it.

Their world didn’t make sense to me. If I’d been Alexander, I could’ve never sat down at a table with Claire. He had told me his family had approved of her, but after everything she had done to him, how could they share a meal with her behind his back?
After
their divorce for god’s sake.

“Will you be okay for five minutes?” Alexander asked, cutting into my thoughts.

“I’m sorry, what five minutes?”

He was already getting up from his seat, his phone in his hand.