Crash Into Me (15 page)

I
took a deep breath and slowly lifted my hand to place it in his. He closed his
fingers around mine and began leading me to his bedroom. We said nothing as we
walked, until finally he closed the door behind me and whispered, "You
belong here with me. And you don't have to be sorry for anything you
said."

For
the moment, remaining silent seemed like the best idea. What could I say? That
I wished he really felt that way about me so I wouldn't feel ridiculous for
falling in love with someone after only two weeks? I knew how that would sound.
I mean, I'd been the person who'd told friends time and again that it took
months or even years to truly fall in love with someone and here I was full on,
head over heels in love with Tristan Stone, no less.

He
sat on the edge of the bed and looked over at me like he wondered what I was
doing all the way over near the door. The chair near the window was empty, so I
sat there, so not wanting to talk about this anymore.

"I
think we should talk."

Ugh.
There it was. The international signal for what's about to come next is going
to rock your world. I said nothing while my stomach dropped and I swallowed
hard. I had no idea what he'd say, but as the seconds ticked by and he still
hadn't said a word, the room began to feel like it was shrinking around me. The
fun house feeling was anything but fun.

"This
has been moving pretty fast, Nina. I didn't intend on things getting to where
they are so quickly."

It
was so much worse than anything I'd imagined. He was dancing around the
elephant in the room, but it was no use. He was breaking up with me. This
explained the extra five grand. That was my parting gift, like the losers got
on game shows.

I
wanted to run away and hide. Standing up, I tried to steady my legs and get the
hell out of there, but I didn't take three steps toward the door before they
gave out and I was in a heap on the floor. All I could think was that was the
perfect moment to be struck by lightning and disintegrated into dust.

"Nina,
open your eyes. Talk to me."

Tristan's
voice was laced with concern, and I opened my eyes to see a matching look on
his face. Or maybe it was pity. Either way, I was still there in one piece and
he was leaning over me.

I
propped myself up on my elbows and plastered a smile on my face. "I'm
fine. Just slipped. No big deal."

Scooping
me up from the floor, he lifted me in his arms and onto the bed. He was so
gentle, but I was even more convinced that he was breaking up with me. Now he
probably just felt bad.

"Are
you okay?"

Silently,
I nodded. I was fine. The same old Nina I'd always been and always would be. It
had been fun and the thought of being Tristan Stone's girlfriend had been very
seductive, but it was over now.

"Tristan,
I think I should go back to my room now. I don't feel so well."

"You
should stay here where I can be sure you're okay," he said so sweetly with
that tender smile that melted my heart.

I
looked up at him and suddenly everything came flowing out of me. "Why? I
know what you're going to do. My falling shouldn't stop you. I understand. Guys
like you don't need or want just one woman. You can have anyone in the world,
so why stick with just one?"

His
eyebrows lifted as I spoke and he grimaced. I guess the truth hurt. Well, I
understood that.

"What
are you talking about?"

"Don't
play dumb with me. You're breaking up with me. Don't worry. I'll be fine. It's
not like we were together for years. I won't make any trouble for you
either."

"Oh.
Well, that's good. I wouldn't want to have to sic my lawyers on you."

Before
I could tell him that I thought he was acting really shitty, he smiled and
smoothed my hair from my face. "I wasn't breaking up with you. I just
wanted to talk after the awkward business the other day."

I
sat up and stared at him, confused. He wasn't breaking up with me? "What
do you mean? I thought I scared you off with the L word."

He
sat down next to me and hung his head. "I have to admit I did freak out a
little when you said it. Sorry about that."

"I
just said it because you kept writing it in your notes. It wasn't like it was a
big deal."

Tristan
turned to face me. "It is a big deal. I don't say I love you to every
woman I date."

"That's
good to hear," I mumbled.

"I
don't think one word is a reason for two people to stop spending time together,
Nina."

"I
guess not." Sitting up, I blew the air out of my cheeks. "So what do
we do now?"

"We
could forget anything like this ever happened and continue like we were,"
he said in a hopeful voice.

"What
were we doing, Tristan? You meet me one night, convince me to work for you,
make me move in here, all the while sleeping with me. I haven't dated thousands
of men, but I can safely assume most people don't call that dating."

"I'm
not most people, Nina." He leaned toward me and pressed his forehead to
mine. "I need you to trust me. This is the only way I can do this. Can you
trust me?"

I
closed my eyes and imagined not having Tristan Stone in my life. Suddenly, my
chest felt hollow, like my heart had been drained of every drop of blood and
all that was left was an empty, useless part of me. I didn't want to lose
Tristan. I wasn't sure what this was we had together, but being with him was so
much better than not.

"Yeah.
I can."

He
kissed me long and deep, making my legs go weak all over again, but for a good
reason this time. We may not have been at the place where we said we loved each
other, but it felt like it.

And
I loved that.

Chapter Fourteen

The
summer went by and every day Tristan and I grew closer and closer. By the time
we'd known each other for four months, I could honestly say I loved him. I
loved the way he left flowers in my room some mornings and surprised me with
jewelry other days. I loved how he slowly withdrew from attending events with
the actresses to spend time watching movies with me.

I
loved how attentive he was, even if I didn't understand it sometimes. Like why
after he shot down one of my choices for a penthouse or suite he always
deposited more money in my bank account. Or why he made sure Jenson watched
over me when I went back to Brooklyn to see Jordan. I'd asked him about these
things once or twice, but he always just smiled and said something about how
much he enjoyed taking care of me.

It
was a comfortable existence, even if it wasn't the type of life many women
would like. I understood not to ask questions about certain things, and I
didn't. It was a trade off I was willing to make.

The
summer night air grew chillier, signaling autumn's coming in upstate New York. It had been a long, hot summer and I welcomed the change fall would bring. As the
leaves began to slowly turn the vibrant golds and reds so typical of the trees
in the Northeast, Tristan announced at dinner one evening that we would be
leaving to see another suite. It had been over a month since he and I had
traveled to San Francisco on what had ended up feeling like the trip of a
lifetime, so I couldn't imagine what could top that.

"We'll
be gone for at least a week, so be sure to tell Jordan," he said casually
as he poured himself a drink.

I
couldn't help but smile. "I think it's really great that you don't want me
to forget about her."

"Why
would I? She's your friend. Plus, I owe her. If it wasn't for her information,
I wouldn't have been able to surprise you that night."

How
long ago that night seemed now. Then we'd been basically strangers, learning
those first things about one another. Now, just months later, we were like an
old married couple eating dinner each night at five, laying in bed late on
Sunday mornings, and bickering about which movie to watch on Saturday nights.

I
stood behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek to his
back. "Where are we going?"

Covering
my hands with his, he turned his head to face me. "Venice."

I
moved around him and stood looking up in amazement. "Venice? As in canals,
gondola rides, and the Doge's Palace?"

"Yes,
yes, and I have no idea."

"I
can't believe it. And how can you have no idea what the Doge's Palace is?"

"Just
wait until you see it, Nina. The hotel is on the Grand Canal, and although I
can't say most of my hotels do much for me, the one in Venice is an
exception."

"What
am I going to be able to add to one of your suites in Venice?" I asked,
feeling immediately incapable to do anything to improve anything in that great
city.

He
lifted my chin to make me face him. "Don't doubt yourself. I believe in
you."

That
was easy for him to say. He didn't have to pick art to improve on one of the
most artistically beautiful cities in the world. "Is this some sort of
final exam or something? My six months are almost up, so is this the big test
to see if I can keep my job?"

Tristan
winced ever so slightly at the mention of my contract. "No. Think of this
as merely a vacation."

"A
working vacation," I corrected him. "Will we be able to visit some of
the museums?"

"Of
course."

Just
as I began to chatter on about all the great museums in Venice, his cell phone
vibrated in his pants pocket, and as he seemed to do more and more, he
apologized for having to take the call and left the dining room. Of all the
changes that had occurred over the past months, this one I disliked. Ever since
that night in Dallas, it seemed like his phone was always interrupting our time
together. It rang almost constantly, and at least once a day, he left to speak
to someone, even though with me he claimed that after five was a time he wanted
nothing to do with work. I didn't know if he answered only one person's call or
if he allowed himself one call each night, but whether it was during dinner, as
we relaxed, or just as we fell asleep, he took that one call, always leaving
before he answered it.

At
first I'd been suspicious and worried that it was another woman, but each night
he returned to the house and me and rarely left. Even when he went out to
attend some work function, he told me where the event was to be held and which
actress he was escorting that night, even joking about his stiffness and being
a bad fake boyfriend. And every morning after, I saw him and the girl du jour
on Page Six, with Tristan as uncomfortable and rigid as always at just the
place he'd said he'd be.

I'd
considered asking him about the calls, but something told me I shouldn't. Maybe
it was the stressed look on his face every time the phone vibrated, but I
didn't want to know what made him unhappy. And I didn't believe he wanted me to
know.

When
he didn't return for nearly thirty minutes, I began to get worried. Had he left
on some emergency he couldn't tell me about? After roaming around the house for
ten minutes more, I finally found him down near the indoor pool just sitting on
one of the chaise lounges. Leaning back with his eyes closed and a slight
frown, he looked very much like he always did after his daily phone call.

"I
think people generally take off their shirt and pants in this room," I
joked, hoping to cheer him up.

He
said nothing, but the tiny beginnings of a smile formed on his lips. They never
really got to a full grin, but for a moment he seemed happier.

"Is
everything okay, Tristan?"

Opening
his eyes, he sighed and sat up. "I need a drink." Before I could say
anything in reply, he was up and gone from the pool leaving me standing there
alone. When I caught up to him, he'd poured himself another double scotch and
was doing his best to get the alcohol into his system as quickly as possible.

I
stood in the doorway of the living room and saw the sadness in him. It hit me
in the middle of my chest and made me want to take him in my arms and never let
him go. His posture screamed that he was dealing with something that weighed on
his mind. He sat in a chair in the corner of the room, his shoulders drooped
and his head tilted back. He watched me approach him, but I had the sense he
was far away and looking right through me.

"You
can talk to me, Tristan. I'm more than just your in-house art expert," I
said sweetly as I ran my fingertip over his closely cut hair. "I hate to
see you so unhappy."

Those
deep brown eyes looked up at me and he said, "It's nothing I can't handle,
Nina. Don't worry about me."

I
was worried, though. The drinking, the frown, the phone calls that seemed to
affect him more and more. Bending down, I kissed the top of his head, loving
the feel of his soft hair against my lips. "I don't like seeing you like
this, Tristan," I whispered.

He
caressed my arm and gave me a forced smile. "It'll be fine. Once we're in Venice, everything will be better."

I
hoped what he said was true, but I feared there was something slowly coming
between us—something that he wanted to keep hidden but was gradually separating
him from me. Later that night as he held me in his arms after we'd made love,
nearly all traces of whatever was troubling him were gone and he was the sexy
and charming man I'd fallen in love with. He played with my hair as he always
did when I laid my head on his chest, wrapping it around his finger and then
releasing it again and again, while he told me about his first time visiting
Venice years ago as a teenage boy, long before he was the owner of Richmont
hotels.

"You
sound like you had a great time."

"I
did. It was one of the best times I had with my father. It was just the two of
us that time. Taylor and my mother stayed behind because he got sick at the
last minute, so for one of the few times in my life, it was just me and my
father."

There
was something unsettling, something darker in his voice as he talked about how
his father had spent the entire week in meetings as he'd wandered around the
city alone. His words were all about how much he enjoyed Venice and the freedom
to explore it at the age of sixteen, but beneath them was an emotion I didn't
think even he knew was there. I listened as he recounted stories of late nights
on the Piazza San Marco with girls he barely knew and his first night of
drinking while he laughed at his youthful foolishness, yet all the time his
left hand rested on the bed balled into a tight fist. 

I
kissed over the ridges of his stomach, loving the feel of his body against my
lips. "Am I going to have to worry about you and Venetian girls on this
trip, Casanova?"

"No,
I promise to behave this time," he joked.

Sliding
up his body, I kissed him on the lips. "I love it when you smile like
that. I like to think that it's a smile you save only for me."

"You've
seen pictures of me, haven't you? I don't ever smile for them."

I
placed a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose. "Good. I like that."

Tristan
cradled my face in his hands. "You're the only person in the world who's
allowed to know that I'm nice. Everyone else thinks I'm that cold man who shows
up at work and those charity things I have to attend."

"So
if I told your other employees how you are with me they'd be surprised?"

"I
don't usually talk to the people who work for me. I have managers and assistants
for that. In fact, you're the only person who works for me that I speak
to."

I
wrinkled my nose at his distinctly elitist comment. "I guess little ole'
me should feel blessed."

He
either didn't pick up on my sarcasm or didn't care to pay attention to it.
"I don't know about blessed, but you certainly can consider yourself
special."

"Oh,
can I?"

Sliding
his hands down to cup my ass, he pulled me into him. "Yes. You are the
only person I smile for and the only one I sleep with. I think those are two
very good reasons to think you're special."

I
wanted to say "I love you" at that moment as he smiled up at me and
held me close, but I didn't. It wasn't fear of rejection now, but I didn't want
to ruin things between us. He probably knew how I felt even though I hadn't
said it, and in my heart, I believed he loved me. That we hadn't said it didn't
mean a thing. They were just words. We told each other every day with our
actions that we loved each other, and I was content with that.

"We
should get some sleep. Venice waits for us tomorrow," I whispered as I
rolled off him onto the bed.

In
my ear, he whispered, "Good night, Nina," as he wrapped his arm
around me, pulling me to him.

I
brought his hand to my lips and kissed it gently. "Good night,
Tristan."

I
love you.

I
twirled around the living room in our suite at Tristan's hotel in Venice, my eyes straining to open as wide as possible to take everything in. Nearly nine
hours on the plane and even though I hadn't slept the whole time, I was keyed
up and eager to see as much of Venice as I could that day.

"It's
gorgeous! I can't believe I'm here in Venice and this incredible hotel is
yours," I gushed. "No wonder you love this place!"

Every
wall I set my gaze on was more beautiful than the last. Frescoes and reliefs
adorned the walls, evidence of the expert artistic hands of Venetian craftsmen
from long ago.

Tristan
stopped my turning and stood behind me with his arms around my waist. "I'm
glad you like it. It really is nice, isn't it?"

Turning
in his hold, I looked up at him and couldn't believe how understated he was
about all of the beauty around us. "Nice doesn't do it justice. It's the
most beautiful place I've ever seen. I can't believe this is yours."

"Aw,
shucks," he teased. "It's nothing."

"Don't
get all humble on me now. This is extraordinary. I don't think I have the words
to describe how extraordinary this is."

He
leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Then get ready to be speechless when
I show you the balcony."

I
followed him out the enormous glass doors to a balcony that overlooked the
Grand Canal of Venice. Gondoliers steered their boats through the water past
hundreds year old pink and gold colored gothic buildings. These were the places
I'd spent hours fantasizing about as an undergrad art student, and here I was
staring across the water at them from my very own balcony.

"Oh
my God, Tristan...it's the most incredible view I've ever seen. Thank
you."

He
said nothing and after a few minutes of staring at the beauty in front of me, I
turned to see him watching me. "What? Am I gushing too much?"

Shaking
his head, he smiled. "No. I'm happy you love this like you do. And I'm
happy I'm the one who could give you this."

He
kissed me so tenderly I thought I might cry. There I was standing in a scene straight
out of a picture with a man unlike anyone I'd ever met and he was saying he was
happy because he'd made me happy. If there was a luckier woman than me, I
couldn't imagine how.

"I
thought we'd visit the museums tomorrow. Would you like that?" he asked as
he nuzzled my neck. "I figure it's about time I see some art in this
city."

"I'd
love that! Is it too late to go today?"

Tristan
lifted his head from kissing my shoulder and cocked one eyebrow. "Aren't
you tired from the flight?"

"No
way. I'm in Venice, baby. I could probably stay up the whole time we're
here."