Burn My Hart--A Sexy Billionaire Romance Page 13

  I don’t hear the doorbell to the penthouse but Theo does. He pushes up, his hands trailing my feet as he moves past me. ‘The door,’ he explains at my quizzical look.

  ‘Oh.’ I stay where I am, my eyes heavy. Since we arrived in Sydney yesterday, all we’ve done is sleep, eat, swim and make love. There is euphoria in this, but also the ever-present feeling of disbelief, of bracing for impact, like I’m in a train that’s heading towards a broken bridge and there’s nothing I can do to stop it, nor to avert disaster. But I’m being melodramatic, aren’t I? It’s not as though I’ve never had to overcome anything in my life, and I’ll overcome this too.

  A moment later, voices break through my slumberous state. Two male voices and that of a woman. I blink my eyes open just as they step onto the terrace.

  ‘Ash...’ Theo smiles but I feel something in his expression. Frustration. Guilt? It makes no sense. I reach for a towel, wrapping it under my arms.

  ‘This is my brother, Jagger.’ He gestures to a man—handsome, with fair hair and white teeth. ‘And my sister-in-law-to-be, Grace.’ He comes to stand at my side but doesn’t touch me. It’s noticeable only because he’s barely stopped touching me all morning.

  ‘This is Asha Sauvages, a friend of mine.’

  Grace’s eyes flick wide. ‘As in Fleurs Sauvages?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘Wow. I love your products.’

  I’m glad, because I’ve brought a shedload of cosmetics as a wedding gift for her. ‘Thanks.’

  Her smile is genuine. There’s something about her I find myself warming to. ‘We only popped in to say hi,’ Grace explains, flicking her gaze to Jagger. ‘We won’t keep you long.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ I rush to reassure her. ‘We’re just losing time here by the pool.’

  ‘Did Theo mention my hens’ night?’ she prompts, pulling her long blonde hair over one shoulder.

  Jagger reaches for her hand once she drops it to her side, his fingers lacing through hers. She lifts her face to his, smiling naturally, kindly, and the strength of their connection is palpable.

  ‘I hadn’t yet, no,’ Theo responds.

  Grace rolls her eyes then shoots Theo an impatient look. ‘It’s tonight. You’re invited.’ She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small card. It has the name of a restaurant on it. ‘Sorry about the late notice. I told him about it a couple of weeks ago...’

  He lifts his hands in the air. ‘I forgot. What can I tell you?’

  ‘Yeah, yeah.’ Grace grins, so it’s obvious she’s not really annoyed. ‘It doesn’t matter. You can make it?’

  ‘Yeah, of course.’ I nod after only the slightest hesitation, thinking of time away from Theo with true regret. ‘I wouldn’t miss it.’

  ‘Great. I’ll see you there. Eight o’clock.’ Then, after another pause, ‘Do you want me to send a car for you?’

  ‘No, Grace! You’re the bride. That’s sweet of you but the last thing you should be doing is worrying about me. I’m really flattered you’ve even invited me.’

  ‘Of course!’ She says it like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I feel like a total intruder. This is a private family event and I’m no one to any of them. Not really. Jagger drops Grace’s hand and pulls her close to his chest, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. I can’t help but contrast their easy familiarity with the way Theo and I are standing a couple of inches apart, carefully not touching.

  ‘Are you excited?’ I ask Grace, drawing her a little away from Theo and Jagger. We move towards the door by silent, unspoken agreement.

  ‘Yeah. Nervous too,’ she whispers. ‘Not about the marriage but about the wedding. So many people, all looking at me.’ She shakes her head. ‘I didn’t realise I was nervous about that kind of thing until recently.’

  ‘Oh, you just have to fake it,’ I say with confidence, putting my hand in the small of her back and guiding her into the house. ‘Come with me. I have something for you.’

  She frowns. ‘For me?’

  ‘You are the bride, right?’

  ‘Yeah, but you didn’t need to do that.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ I rush to assure her. We walk towards the bedroom and I’m grateful AF that the maid service has been because a few hours ago the room bore clear evidence of how we’d spent the night.

  I push in and lift my suitcase from the wardrobe, unzipping it and removing a couple of heavy-duty shopping bags. A bounty of FS products sits inside each one.

  ‘Oh, wow.’ Grace stares at them, shaking her head. ‘Asha, this is way too generous.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. It’s my company, you know.’ I wink at her and she smiles, a beautiful smile that lights up her eyes.

  ‘That’s really kind of you.’ She throws a look over her shoulder to make sure we’re still alone. ‘So you and Theo...?’

  Her curiosity is natural but it makes something inside me sting. How did he introduce me? As a friend, that’s right.

  ‘Just friends,’ I say, the hole in my chest hurting all the more for the fact that, at its heart, the statement is true. We’re friends who sleep together, nothing more. And we never will be more.

  ‘That’s what he said.’ She shakes her head. ‘That’s a shame. I kind of liked the idea of him settling down.’

  My heart skids to a stop, then rushes back into action. ‘I don’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon.’

  Grace’s eyes narrow and I have the strangest feeling she’s trying to read my mind. Then she lifts her shoulders as though it doesn’t really matter. ‘You’re probably right. Thank you again for this. It’s way too much...’

  ‘Nonsense.’

  Inexplicably, and out of nowhere, my throat thickens with the threat of tears. I shake my head to clear them, forcing a smile to my face. ‘I’ll see you tonight.’

  * * *

  I throw the Scotch back, staring out at Sydney with a growing sense of unease. Asha and I formed our deal weeks ago, and it makes sense. She wants things I can’t give her. I can’t monopolise her body, her time, just because I love making love to her, when she wants to settle down and have kids. What we’re doing feels great right now but what if she wakes up in a year’s time and resents me for holding her back?

  We made this agreement and it’s the right thing to do, but, fuck me, now that we’re in Sydney and the wedding is just around the corner, I can’t quite believe we’re nearing the end of this. I try to picture my life without her in it, and I know how I’ll cope with that, I know I’ll find someone else to sleep with as quickly as I can, just to prove to myself that she doesn’t mean more to me than I’m comfortable with—

  But shit, right now, the idea of fucking someone else is like drinking acid.

  The idea of not seeing Asha again is like a dagger through my gut.

  I hear the door click open then slam shut and turn towards it, taking a moment to sum up the situation. She wore a simple green maxi dress to the hens’ party. It’s emerald in colour, picking out the depth of her eyes and the translucency of her skin. I stare at her for several seconds, at the way she’s styled her hair in big, loose waves, tumbling down her back, and a deluge of wants and needs overtakes me.

  But then she stubs her toe and swears under her breath and I realise exactly what I’m looking at.

  ‘You’re drunk.’ I can’t help it. I laugh. Asha is ‘tiptoeing’ through the penthouse, but with all the grace and stealth of a baby rhinoceros.

  She turns to me, her eyes huge in her face, and lifts a finger to her lips. ‘Shh...’

  I laugh again, a deep, rumbling sound, as I move quickly across the room and put an arm around her waist. It’s an arm designed to steady her but, holy crap, just having her so close to me makes my body harden, awareness throbbing through me.

  ‘Did you have a good night?’

  ‘I had the best night.’
Her voice is the loudest whisper I’ve ever heard. I steer her towards the kitchen and lift her easily, plonking her on the edge of the bench while I grab a bottle of still mineral water.

  ‘Grace is so nice. And her friend Penny is nice. They’re all so nice.’

  She dances a little on top of the benchtop, wiggling her hips and lifting her hands in the air. ‘But I’m hot.’ She frowns, pulling at her dress, her frown deepening when she can’t get it off.

  ‘Hang on—’ I laugh ‘—it’s zipped up.’ I come around behind her and run the zip the length of her body, fiercely telling my cock to settle down because Asha is in no condition to have sex.

  ‘That feels good,’ she murmurs, apparently not getting the memo.

  I step away from her, not looking at how gorgeous she is, not looking at the delicate lace of her bra that reminds me of the thong I used as handcuffs that night in Paris.

  I hand her the mineral water. ‘Drink this.’

  ‘I’m not thirsty.’ Her voice is a purr.

  Great. She’s doing her level best to seduce me and I’ve decided to go all honourable and not sleep with her because she’s drunk? What the fuck is wrong with me? Then again, that’s not new. Sleeping with someone who can barely walk has never been my thing. But Asha’s Asha. We’re different.

  ‘Do you know what I don’t get, Theo?’ Her voice is a little slurred, her eyes heavy. She drinks the mineral water and smiles at me but her eyes are troubled, as though she’s hurt. The idea of that—of anyone hurting Asha—brings all my masculine protective instincts to the fore.

  Something inside of me shifts. ‘What’s that, Asha?’

  ‘Jagger is so madly in love with Grace. I mean, he’s crazy for her. He even showed up tonight—’

  ‘What?’ I interrupt, pulling a face.

  ‘Yeah. He said he didn’t want to go a whole night without seeing her.’

  I bite back a derisive comment. That brother of mine has got it bad.

  ‘How come he wants to be normal and you don’t?’

  I know what she’s asking but it’s easier to make light of her question than it is to answer it honestly. ‘You don’t think I’m normal?’

  She rolls her eyes and winces as—I can only presume—her head aches in response. I spin away, grabbing a couple of paracetamol. ‘You know what I mean.’ She’s frowning when I turn back to her.

  ‘Nope.’ It’s a lie. Guilt shifts inside of me. Sober, Asha is sharper than a blade. I doubt I could win an argument with her to save my life. But, after God knows how many glasses of champagne, she’s blurry and foggy and I’m ashamed to say I’m taking advantage of that.

  ‘They’re so in love.’ She shakes her head then winces. I press the tablets into her hand.

  ‘That’s good, given that they’re about to get married.’

  ‘You know what I mean.’ She lifts the paracetamol tablets to her mouth and puts them in, then sips her water. ‘His dad is your dad and Jagger’s getting married.’

  Something in the region of my chest tightens, like a band is being strung around me.

  ‘Mmm.’ It’s non-committal. ‘You should go to bed, Ash. You’re done.’

  ‘Don’t do that,’ she mumbles, her eyes lifting to mine, and there’s something in them. Accusation and sadness. My gut rolls.

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Don’t make a joke out of this. I’m asking you seriously. Why?’

  ‘Why what?’

  ‘How come he’s getting married and you’re...?’

  I expel a sigh. ‘Jagger and I are different people. We want different things.’

  ‘You both want to be happy,’ she counters.

  ‘But it doesn’t follow that the same things will make us happy.’

  ‘But he’s not afraid of marriage.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  Her eyes flare wide.

  ‘Maybe he’s afraid but he loves her enough to do it anyway.’

  Something shifts in her expression. She’s foggy and drunk and so the words don’t seem to settle properly for several seconds. ‘You mean he’s met the right person,’ she says with a frown.

  I feel danger all around me, alarm bells pealing, and yet I nod slowly. ‘Yeah. He was married before. It didn’t turn out great. So he must love Grace a shitload to be trying again.’

  She nods, contemplating this. ‘So he’s met the right person, and you never have.’

  More alarm bells. That’s not what I meant. But doesn’t she have a point? Kind of. ‘It wouldn’t matter who I met, I’m not interested in marriage. Nothing and no one is going to change my mind.’

  ‘Maybe you just think that now,’ she whispers, frowning as she wriggles away from me and jumps off the bench. Her legs are wobbly; she has to steady herself on the edge to stay standing. ‘Maybe you’ll meet someone one day and decide you want—’

  ‘No.’ I press a finger to her lips, knowing how important it is that she believes me. ‘There is no one on earth who could interest me in marriage. I will never want that, Asha. Not with anyone.’

  ‘I do.’ It’s a simple statement but my heart breaks. For her?

  ‘I know that.’ A gravelled admission.

  ‘I was looking at Grace and Jagger and I just felt so... I don’t understand how you don’t want that.’

  ‘Everyone’s different.’

  Oh, Jesus. A sheen of tears fills her eyes. I hate myself right now, I really do.

  ‘You might change your mind one day?’

  ‘No.’ I stare at her for several seconds so she understands the truth of my words. ‘I know myself. I won’t. Ever.’

  ‘Even for me?’

  Her words shock me, galvanising me and paralysing me at once so I’m a contradiction of instincts. ‘Asha...’

  My voice holds a warning. She stares at me, her expression inscrutable.

  ‘I’ve told you...’

  ‘But since then,’ she insists, her voice a little slurred, but her meaning crystal-clear, ‘haven’t you started to feel...anything?’

  Have I? I shake my head, knowing that feelings are dangerous, hurt is inevitable. And I don’t want to hurt Asha. ‘No.’ A firm denial, ringing with finality.

  She blanches, spinning away from me, lifting a hand to her head. ‘I’m tired.’

  ‘Yeah.’ My voice is stony. ‘You should go to bed.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I WATCH THE wedding with a smile plastered to my face but the whole time I’m conscious of Theo up there, looking so handsome in that tuxedo, and something inside me is hammering hard against my ribs.

  Tears are clogging in my throat, because I feel like I’m sinking or drowning or being forced off the edge of a cliff.

  All I can think about is our conversation. I’ve barely seen him since—he was involved in wedding preparations yesterday and he spent last night with his brothers. Or maybe he was just avoiding me?

  I was pretty tipsy after Grace’s bachelorette night, but not so tipsy I can’t remember what I said, and what he said. Not so tipsy that I’ve forgotten what I want and need from him, or how empty I felt when he didn’t offer it.

  Not drunk enough to anaesthetise the pain at my own stupidity.

  I’ve fallen in love with Theo. I think I’ve known it for weeks, maybe even months, but this last week has crystallised those feelings into certainty. Seeing Jagger and Grace together was the final piece of the puzzle. Yes, I love him, and my life will never be the same again.

  I draw in a breath and his gaze jerks sharply to mine as though, even at this distance, he’s attuned to my every movement. His eyes run over my face. I keep that tight smile pinned to my lips but inside I’m falling apart completely.

  And suddenly I’m not here in Australia on the deck of this sublime yacht in the shade of the Sydney Opera House. Suddenly I’m nine
and it’s my birthday and my dad is drunk, really drunk. He doesn’t know I’m sitting under the piano—I used to love that place, so out of the way and quiet, away from anyone’s notice. I hear him on the phone. I don’t know who he’s talking to. ‘She looks so much like her but, God help me, I hate her sometimes. I hate her, I hate her. How can I feel anything but?’

  My eyes sweep shut and for a moment my smile drops. When I open my eyes Theo’s looking at me from where he’s standing beside his brother, his expression showing concern. I look away, swerving my eyes towards Grace.

  I’m in love with Theo Hart and, just like my dad, he’ll never love me back. Just like my dad, he’s not capable of that. I suck in a painful breath and my blood hums with self-recrimination. I knew this all along. I had a thousand warnings and I heeded none of them. This was always within my power to control and I didn’t.

  I’ve been so stupid, so reckless. I deserve to feel this soul-splintering ache. He warned me. At every step of the way, Theo has warned me. He has no problems with our relationship ending; he doesn’t want me. Just like my dad.

  Memories of boarding school run through my mind, the awful knowledge that I was being sent away because he couldn’t bear to have me in his home a moment longer. I had no home, not really. Not if home is a place where you’re welcomed and loved.

  I’ve been alone for as long as I can remember and being alone is what I loved about this situation with Theo—at first. Initially, we were like two people who were on parallel paths. We had sex but neither of us impacted too significantly on the other’s life. He was no threat to me. I felt safe. Somehow that changed and now he’s in every facet of my life, just like he’s in every cell of my body.

  And I’m in none of his.

  The wedding is short but, to me, it drags. I stare at Theo and I accept that I have to walk away from him. Not later tonight, not tomorrow. Immediately. It’s going to be the hardest thing I ever do but I was right all along—he’s quicksand and I’m already in so deep. Up to my neck at least. If I don’t leave now, I’ll drown.

  I harden my resolve, keeping a smile pinned to my face even as my heart is dying. This is what I have to do. Not once have I let my dad see my grief. Not once have I shown him how much his rejection hurt me. My pride forbade that, and that same sense of pride shapes my plan now.