Scarred Beauty (8 page)

“No.”

“Then that is the name I want to call you to
make it special for me.”

He leaned down and kissed her on both cheeks.
When he went to touch her lips she pulled back, fright stopping her in her
tracks. No man had ever kissed her before. The experience frightened her.
Twenty years old and she’d never had any practice. What if she was bad at it?

“How was your day?” she asked, pulling out of
his hold.

“Tedious and not important.” Noelle watched as
he removed his coat. “I spent most of my day thinking about you.”

“What about the other women you’re with? Don’t
you have to think about them?”

“I wasn’t with other women today. I’m rarely
with many women.”

“But you’re an escort.”

“Escorts can pick and chose the women they want.
Are you a natural red-head?” he asked changing the subject. “The colour of your
hair. Is it natural?”

“What does my hair colour have to do with you
being an escort?” she asked with a frown.

“Nothing. I wanted to know what your natural
hair colour is.”

“I’m blonde, usually. Can I ask you a question?”

“Feel free.” He sat down on the edge of the bed.
She touched the scar at the side of her face, shocked that she’d forgotten
about it in his presence.

“What is your hair colour?”

“The one I’m wearing now. I’ve never felt the
need to dye it. You know most women would love to be a natural blonde?”

“Most women don’t have an ugly scar to deal
with.” She didn’t know why they were fighting.

“So the little red mouse has claws.”

“What are you doing, Isaac?” she asked him,
uncomfortable with the way he was talking.

“I want to know everything about you, Elle. I
feel driven to see what you see and to know what you know.” He stood up
crowding her with his sheer size and presence.

“I’m no one.”

“No. You’re someone. At least to me you are. I
never want to see you hide when you’re with me. Do you understand me, Elle?”

“I promised you I would be open to you. I’m
being honest.”

“Then why do you dye your hair?”

She stared at him wanting to lie. She wanted to
refuse him.

“I don’t want to tell you.”

“You promised me no secrets.”

“I don’t want to lie, so please let me keep this
one to myself.” She took a step back, and he followed her until she stood with
her back to the wall.

“Don’t be afraid of me, Elle.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why are you stepping away from me?” he
asked.

Licking her lips, she glanced up at his face.
“You make me nervous, but I’m not afraid.”

“You really don’t want to answer my question?”
Isaac tucked a stray curl behind her ear, his thumb resting along her scar.

“No. I don’t.”

“Then don’t answer it, but beware, Elle. I’ll
want an answer at some point.” He was so close she was struggling to breathe.
His scent invaded her senses, and the feel of him pressed against her was more
than she’d ever felt before. He moved down to rub her bottom lip. She gasped as
his gaze went to where his thumb lay. Her lips felt dry with the intensity of
his stare on her mouth.

“Why can’t I get you out of my head?” he asked.

She refused to say anything. He held her under
his spell. Isaac pressed closer, and she felt the press of his arousal on her
stomach. He dipped his thumb inside her mouth and rested the digit on her
tongue. Without thought, she sucked him inside her mouth. The action was as
natural as breathing to her.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me. What
I want to do to you should have me shot.”

His words sounded promising. She didn’t
understand what he exactly meant by the words. He pulled his thumb out of her
mouth and moved away.

“I can’t think when I’m close to you.” He sat on
the edge of the bed, his hands running through his hair. Her gaze caught in the
different tones of colour. For a forty year old man, his hair had the healthy
sheen of someone younger. She walked to the edge of the bed where he sat and
ran her fingers through the strands of his hair.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I want to touch you.”

Isaac relaxed. He held onto her waist as she
stroked his hair. The soft wavy lengths fascinated her. He stroked her stomach
through the fabric of her top. She’d chosen a thick one to beat against the
cold outside. His touch moved under her shirt until he was on her skin. She
held her breath from the electric. Whenever he touched her, the fire in her
veins ignited, and she struggled to think coherently.
 

“You’re skin is soft.”

“I use good soap. Do you have your hair
professionally done?” she asked.

“I have it cut by the only man I’d let near me
with a pair of scissors. How do you have your hair cut?” He looked up and
touched her hair, one of his hands on her stomach while the other twirled a
curl of her hair between his fingers.

“I do it.”

“Why don’t you go to the hairdressers’?”

Noelle blushed. She never thought she would have
to look good for anyone. Staring at the strand of her hair he held, she saw the
split ends. She used scissors and simply cut bits of her hair until they lay
down her arm.

“I cut it myself without looking in the mirror.”

“You don’t look in the mirror?”

She shook her head. Her throat hurt from the
lump. She could barely breathe. “I’ve not looked in the mirror for a long
time.”

His gaze seemed to look deep into her very soul.
Noelle couldn’t turn away as she was captured by him.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are.”

There was no way she could be beautiful. One
side of her face was a mess. She recalled spending a great deal of time looking
in the mirror when she was younger. One side of her face had been pale,
completely unmarked by the accident. On the other side had been the brutal,
striking, deep red scar showing the ugliness of what she’d been through. Since
that day where she spent most of her day staring at her reflections she’d made
it a rule to never seek out her reflection.

The other day when she’d seen herself in the
window was the small luxury she allowed herself.

****

Isaac saw the conflicting emotions flash across
her face. His heart broke thinking about all that she’d lost. To most men, the
scar would be a massive deterrent. He saw past the scar to the beautiful woman
underneath. The mark on her face was pale, and he could tell the accident had
happened some time ago even without her talking about it.

Her hair was thick and beautiful. The dark red
colour she had it made her skin look far paler than if she went back to the
blonde in the picture. Sighing out at the unfairness of her situation, he went
back to stroking the flesh of her belly. He smiled when he felt her quiver from
his touch. She felt the connection as well, the electricity which passed
between them. No other woman had made him so energized and desperate to be with
her.

Inhaling her lemony scent, he relaxed as she
caressed his hair. If he could come home from work every day to her, he knew
he’d be a happy man. She gave him peace where no one else could.

He thought about her hair and was determined to
see that she got a decent hair cut. By the time he was finished she would be
able to look in the mirror and see the woman that he saw. Her kindness should
be cherished. Many people would see past her scars if only she gave them time.
His thoughts were ludicrous. He knew that if he brought
Clark
into the situation he would make him feel like less of a man because he wanted
a woman who wasn’t perfect.

Closing his eyes, he enjoyed her touch while it
lasted. He didn’t have anything else to get back to. The only pleasure he had
was in the hours he spent in the small hotel room with her. They’d seen each
other twice, and already they were the best two nights of his life. No sex had
happened. They were close to each other without the need for physical intimacy,
and it was perfect to him.

Was his age making him weak?

Isaac didn’t know the answer and no longer
cared. Most of his days were long and hard. If Elle held the key to him being
at peace then he would continue to remain in the false position of being an
escort to be with her. Seeing her reaction to certain questions had made him
aware of the fact she couldn’t survive in his world. They would tear her apart,
and he would let them. He lived by a fight or flight code, and if she couldn’t
fight for her position then he wouldn’t fight to keep her in his world.

Don’t
think about that, you fucking coward. How could you let anyone hurt her?

Even as he thought the words, his heart and head
rebelled. There would be no way he’d let anyone hurt the angel he held in his
arms. The battle inside him had already begun.

Chapter Ten

They met every week, each conversation more
intense than the next. She felt she could talk to him about anything. Isaac opened
up to her about what he liked and disliked. She loved the touching the most.
His body was perfect, and when they were together she could touch him however
she liked.

Brad was distracted by his meetings with Ben,
and he didn’t question where she went for long periods of time.

When she spent time with Isaac she felt like she
could have a life. She paid the money into a separate bank account every week
without fail, her funds dwindling down with each transaction. Her paintings
were not moving at the moment. She found little inspiration in the studio. Her
heart opened up in the short hours she spent with Isaac. If only she could get
him to visit her at her home.

Winter was taking full hold of the city with
most days starting out with freezing ice. The light of the day had fallen to
only a few short hours. She spent most of her days immersed in a romance book
with her thoughts straying to what could happen if she asked Isaac to make love
to her.

Would he laugh at her? She dreamt about his
touch. Her thoughts were plagued with imagining what it would be like to have
his lips on hers.

Get over
yourself, Noelle
.
Something like that is never going to happen.

It could
if you wanted it to.

I’m not
paying for sex.

You’re
still paying to be in his company. What’s the difference?

The fight inside her head remained the same.
Throwing the book that she held in her arms across the room, she got off the
couch to pace. Her skin felt itchy. She was restless and in need of something
more. Being scarred at such a young age had left her feeling incapable of
seeking out company.

Her days were growing harder to deal with. She
wanted to be wanted by a man. The tears she fought so hard to keep down
erupted. They fell silently down her cheeks as she walked the living the room.
Her body hummed with the need to be touched. She rubbed the tears away which
only made her cry harder.

“Stop, just stop.”

For most of her life she’d dealt with wanting
something and never having it. Why did this one matter of touching and
experiencing the pleasure that could be had between a man and a woman have to
be so hard to forget about?

Her virginity felt more like a burden than
something to treasure. The frustration she tried to stem kept biting her on the
ass.

The sound of her mobile ringing stopped her
pacing.

“Hello.” She answered the phone without looking
at the contact.

“What’s the matter? You sound upset,” Isaac said
down the line.

Wiping her tears away, she gave him a laugh.
“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Talk to me, Elle.”

“Do you take this much care of all your
clients?” she asked. The cruel words were not intended to hurt. She cringed
when she thought about what she’d said. Bringing up his choice of career wasn’t
the smartest or the nicest thing to do.

“You’re special to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
His words commanded her to respond to him. With a sigh she relented.

“I’m missing you.” She wouldn’t give him the
whole truth. Allowing Isaac to have that much control over her would be a
mistake.

“Can I see you?” he asked.

Her heart kicked out of her chest. The wants and
needs she’d been upset about rose closer to the surface at the mention of
seeing him.

“When?”

“Tonight.”

Biting her lip she thought about Brad. He hadn’t
been getting home ‘til late. She could leave early and avoid talking to him. He
never looked chatty anymore.

“I’d love to. Same time?”

“Yes, and, Elle ... wear something nice.”