Chapter Five: Birdie
This was a nightmare.
I was married to what was possibly the most beautiful man I’d ever met, and I was sitting in the rooftop garden of the most beautiful apartment I’d ever been in because he was a billionaire and spared no expense when it came to his comfort and luxury. But it was a fake marriage, and I barely knew him. Yet, I had to pretend to be deliriously in love with him in front of the entire world, including my mother and his.
I mean, it was amazing. I was married to the most beautiful man I’d ever met, and he was a billionaire. I was sitting on a deck in Manhattan under the sunny sky, sipping a glass of fine sauvignon blanc, nibbling on the melon and prosciutto that the housekeeper had been eager to make for me before she left for the day. The future stretched out ahead of me, and my past was far behind me.
I had a book that I’d meant to read, although I couldn’t concentrate on the words. As the breeze blew across the rooftops where I sat, I could not believe that this was my life. I was married. Between one week and the next, I’d gone from single and not at all interested in looking to married. In fact, I was actively avoiding men of all types and romantic relationships, and now I was not only attached to a beautiful man, but I was permanently in a relationship with him.
It wasn’t romantic, though. I let out my breath. It was a business relationship. Granted, we were beginning to be friends, but those kisses…
I took another sip of wine and a bite of melon and prosciutto, and I flipped my page back to where I had lost track. I relaxed back on the lounge chair again.
Worse than just being a beautiful billionaire, he was smart and kind and wanted to do good things in the world. I almost wished he was actually the callow, entitled jerk I’d met at that wedding so many years ago. Then he’d just be the beautiful body without the beautiful person inside. Oh, worse and worse. I liked him. As a person, I liked him.
I shook my head and turned back to my book, which was a deep and sensitive exploration of a family’s tragic history in the early nineteenth century. I’d meant to read it for ages. It was supposed to be brilliant, not that I could even tell. I had read another ten pages, which I couldn’t remember at all.
I was married.
It was no good. I was unable to focus.
I was married to William Jeffries. P. William Jeffries. William. Will. Wills. My Wills.
And I still couldn’t stop thinking about the way he kissed me.
I should have gone into work today so that I didn’t have time to think and could have kept myself busy, but I hadn’t been able to sleep on my wedding night—not for the usual reasons, unfortunately—because we were flying in a private plane coming back from Hawaii. I still couldn’t sleep, and because I still hadn’t really processed that I was now married to William Jeffries—billionaire, playboy and boss—and because I was dizzy with exhaustion, and because I was secretly terrified to begin my real life again as a married woman, I’d called in for a personal day.
Not that I would get fired now that I was married to the big boss. I began laughing. “Oh, forget it.”
I got up from the deck chair and carried my wine and snack and book back inside. I might as well give up trying to do anything using my brain because it was still stuck on one and only one thought. My husband. Will. He might very well be my new obsession.
His home was just as luxurious and masculine inside. It was such a contrast to my white and clean, tiny one-bedroom apartment. This one was full of rich wood and black leather. The ceiling was high, and a skylight made sure it was light and airy. Everywhere I looked were luxurious finishes and designer furniture. I wandered back into the guest room done in silvers and grays—my room for as long as I was here—and took off my striped sundress. I had forgotten my robe in my rush to leave my apartment a week ago and hadn’t been back since, so I wrapped one of Will’s thick and fluffy towels around me and wandered barefoot into his bedroom.
I felt guilty invading his room, but he’d told me I could take a bath in his bathtub, which was a huge marble soaking tub underneath a skylight. My bathroom had only a large spa shower. He had no idea how much I loved taking baths when my thoughts were whirling and wouldn’t still. He was at work, and he’d be there for hours yet, I knew. I could take a bath and be done before he even knew I was here.
I ran the bath and filled it with my bath oils, and the scent of lavender filled the room. I slid into the deep tub and relaxed. Finally, I could quiet my brain. Only, when I quieted my brain, it seemed my body started to wake up. It tingled. Everywhere. The memory of Will and his soft lips woke my nerve endings up. The heat of the bath softened and warmed parts of my body that I had been ignoring for far too long.
The truth was, I wanted him.
I hadn’t been with a man in over a year, since I’d left Eddie. I’d only ever been with Eddie, actually. I’d met him when I started college, and he’d swept me off my feet right from the beginning. I hadn’t really ever known anyone else that I wanted. I hadn’t ever really felt this before, this aching, this need. I never felt this desire to touch and to be touched by only one man, even when I was with Eddie.
I let my hands run over my body, imagining they were his hands. I bit my lip, imagining it was his teeth, his tongue running down my neck, lower and lower—
Something in the other room slammed, and I froze.
Suddenly, I wasn’t hot. I was cold. Memories of Will faded away, and instead, the texts from Eddie flashed through my mind. The knowledge that he’d been watching me cooled me. He wanted me back. I was afraid.
Eddie couldn’t be here. He didn’t know I was here. There was no way he could get in. The security in this building was too tight. Making sure that I would be away from him had been the deciding factor in taking Will up on an offer that had seemed so ridiculous at first but had felt more and more right as time went on. Even though I knew logically that Eddie had not broken into Will’s apartment and that he couldn’t be watching me as I bathed, I leaped out of the bathtub and wrapped the towel around me. I grabbed a heavy table lamp from the bedroom and wrapped the cord around it.
I charged out of Will’s bedroom, my lamp held high as if I were ready to attack. Will startled and jumped back as if I had.
“Will!” My heart was still racing, the adrenaline pumping through my veins, fear thrilling through me. “What are you doing here?”
His eyes darted down to my towel-clad, dripping body, and then resolutely focused on my face. “I live here.”
I tugged the towel tighter, embarrassed, frightened, and very aware that I was naked under this soft cloth. “I know that. I mean, I thought you were at work.”
“I came home early,” he said simply and took a step toward me, taking the lamp out of my hand and setting it aside. “Are you okay?”
He looked down on me with such concern in his brown eyes. I could barely meet his gaze. My lashes fluttered before I looked away. “I heard a noise.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” His voice was soft and gentle. “You’re safe here, you know that?”
I do know that, I wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come out. I wanted to be cool and collected, but I wasn’t.
“Hey…” He pulled me into him and wrapped his arms around me. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”