Crash Into Me (23 page)

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Authors: K.M. Scott

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"Tristan,
Blake didn't see anything intentionally."

"Blake?"

My
choice of words was unintentional and equally as unfortunate. "It's not
what you think. I introduced myself and he told me his name. If it makes things
any better, he had no interest in talking to me and left almost immediately."

He
cocked one eyebrow. "It doesn't."

Cradling
his face in my hands, I smiled up at him. "Tristan, there's no reason for
you to be upset. I promise there's no one else but you for me."

His
expression remained unchanged, and I saw I wasn't getting through. Without
another word, he turned and walked away, leaving me unsure where we stood but
sure we could work out whatever it was later.

By
three o'clock, I was ready to head out to see Jordan to cruise the bridal
magazines and call my sister to tell her the good news too. I searched for
Tristan, hoping to tell him I was leaving, but he wasn't in his office or our
bedroom. As I walked down the hallway from our room, I heard his voice in the
front living room and entered to kiss him goodbye.

One
step into the room and I stopped dead at the sight in front of me. Next to the
couch we'd sat on that first night, Tristan stood with some woman with gorgeous
long, blond hair and legs longer than my whole body. She was standing entirely
too close to him and fixing his tie like she'd done it before and felt
completely comfortable with her hands on him.  I only saw her from the side and
hated her.

Then
I heard her speak and the hate was purer than anything I'd ever felt.

"Tristan,
this tie isn't going to work well. You need something brighter." Her voice
was intentionally sultry, like she was affecting a sexy voice instead of using
her normal one.

For
his part, the man I'd just agreed to marry the night before stood like a statue
as she fawned over his collar, but that didn't make it any better to watch.
Jealousy coursed through my veins, making my hands ball into fists at my sides.

"Excuse
me, am I interrupting?"

Tristan
looked around the woman and smiled, but when she turned to look at me, her
expression telegraphed loud and clear that, in her mind, I wasn't welcome.

"Nina,
let me introduce you to my assistant. Kacey, this is Nina."

I
waited for him to explain to Kacey who I was to him, but the words never came
out of his mouth. Insecurity mingled with jealousy to create a noxious pain in
my gut, and I walked toward them.  Holding up my left hand, I said, "I'm
his fiancée. Nice to meet you."

She
extended her long, skinny arm and shook my hand with her bony hand that had
just been fondling Tristan's tie. Her blue eyes slid over me from head to toe
and back up again, and I was sure she was judging me.

"My
pleasure. We're just getting ready for his interview this afternoon with
Executive Homes. They plan to do an entire spread on him and this stunning
house of his."

Ours.
I wanted to correct her but as she stood looking down at me, I suddenly
felt small and insignificant. All I could get out of my mouth was, "That's
nice."

Then
she asked, "Will you be staying?"

The
way she said it made me feel like I was an intruder. I looked at Tristan for
some support, but he simply stood behind her looking back at me. His silence
was deafening and hurtful. I felt like a visitor in my own home, and suddenly,
all I wanted to do was run.

As
well as I could, I calmed my anger and said, "I'll leave you to your
business. I don't know what time I'll be home, Tristan. Perhaps I'll stay in
the city with Jordan. She's been wanting me to go out. I'll let you know."

Kacey
looked relieved to see me go and returned to fiddling with Tristan's collar,
but I noticed as I turned to leave that Tristan's eyes had narrowed ever so
slightly. If he could hang out with his little friend, I could hang out with
mine.

I
marched out of the living room with my head held high and hoped neither of them
saw how shaky my legs were under me. On top of the jealousy and insecurity
churning in my stomach, now I was angry. Not only had he never told me his
assistant was a female—a stunning one who looked like the actresses who
accompanied him to formal events, no less—but he stood there like a statue,
never saying a word to let her know how much I supposedly meant to him.

Jenson
was nowhere to be found, so I waited outside by the car, preferring to shiver
in the late fall weather of upstate New York than stay inside with Tristan and
his assistant. It could have been twenty below and I wouldn't have felt the
cold I was fuming so badly. The man who had made me the happiest woman in the
world less than twenty-four hours earlier now had just let some gorgeous Amazon
woman make me feel like an outsider with my own fiancé.

The
front door opened and I heard footsteps, but when I turned around I saw it was
Tristan. I quickly set off down the drive, but he kept pace with me and
overtook me in mere seconds. I so didn't want to have the conversation we were
about to have.

"Nina,
I think we should talk."

I
turned my back on him and stomped off in the other direction. "I don't
think so. Go talk to your assistant if you need someone to listen to you."

His
hand touched my shoulder and I jerked my body away from him. He wasn't going to
get a pass on this one with just a touch or a few sweet words.

"Nina,
I'm not going to chase after you," he said as he followed behind me.

"Fine.
Don't. It's not like I'm anyone you should be chasing after anyway."

"You're
acting ridiculous. You can't be jealous of Kacey. All she did was adjust my
tie. It's not like she saw me half naked."

I
stopped dead and turned around to see him standing there grinning like some
sexy Cheshire cat. So that's what this was all about? Blake and my dropping
bikini bottoms?

"Don't
even tell me she's not a total bitch who made me feel like I was unwelcome in
my own home and you didn't just stand there and let her do it."

"You
saw what your jealousy wanted you to see. Sound familiar?"

"So
it was just a coincidence that Kacey the blond bombshell was here today after
what happened with your gardener? I doubt it. And why didn't you ever tell me
your assistant looked like that?"

"I've
never told you what any of my employees look like, Nina. They're simply people
who do things for me. I don't pay attention to what they look like."

I
raised my eyebrows in disbelief. "Is that supposed to make me jealous
too?"

Tristan
smiled and reached out to caress my cheek. "No. You misunderstood. But
perhaps you can see my point from earlier now?"

Sighing
heavily, I wilted under the weight of my anger. I hated that I was jealous. I
hated that it was so easy for me to feel insecure.

"Tristan,
I don't want to do this for the rest of my life. I can't be worrying so much
that my husband is having some hot thing with his blond assistant that I go
crazy here out in the country and begin to stalk him while he's at work. And I
have to be honest. I'm not above the whole stalking thing. It's not my most
attractive trait, but I get jealous."

He
kissed me and pressed his forehead to mine. "I love you, Nina. Even the
jealous you. Maybe we should both remember what happens when we get
jealous."

"Okay.
I promise no more flashing your gardener," I teased.

He
straightened to his full height and laughed. "I wouldn't worry about that.
I fired him."

Guilt
over Blake's firing made my stomach turn and I stepped back away from Tristan.
"Are you kidding? How could you do that? You fired someone for something I
did? Do you plan to fire Kacey too since she made me jealous?"

He
seemed to consider my idea and reached out to take my hand. "No, but I see
your point. I will if you want me to."

I
pulled away, horrified at what he was saying. "No fucking way! I won't be
responsible for you firing someone twice today, even if it is that snarky
bitch. If you fire her, it's because you want to, not because I said to."

"Nina,
I want you to be happy. Tell me what would make you happy, and I'll do
it."

The
petty, jealous me wanted him to fire Kacey, but that was no more right than
firing Blake. I understood his jealousy, but we couldn't go on like this. Not
if we ever expected to be happy together.

"Don't
fire Kacey, but promise me she doesn't ever get close enough to you to touch
you again."

With
a smile, he took my hand in his and brought it to his lips. "Agreed."

"And
give Blake his job back. I can understand you aren't crazy about him working as
the gardener since he saw me without my bikini bottoms, but give him another
job somewhere else."

Tristan
took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Agreed. Now here's one for you.
No staying in the city tonight."

"Agreed."
I hadn't planned on staying with Jordan anyway, so it wasn't much of a
concession.

"I
have to get back to work. That magazine is expecting to tour the house, and I
have to be there."

A
stab of hurt pushed on my heart and I began walking toward the car. I guess I
wasn't allowed to be known as Tristan Stone's live-in girlfriend. "Fine. I
guess it's your house, so you should be there."

He
grabbed my arm and pulled me back toward him. "Nina, let me explain."

"No
need. I understand," I said with a pout.

Spinning
me around, he forced me to look at him as he explained, "No, you don't. I
didn't think you'd want to announce our engagement to the world this way. I
know how private you are, and I love that. I don't need anyone else to know how
much I love you as long as you know. But eventually the world is going to find
out. I just didn't want it to find out this way."

I
couldn't disagree with that. This way, I'd have the chance to tell Kim and
Jordan first.

"Okay.
I can see your point."

Smiling
that warm smile I'd loved since the first night I met him, Tristan pulled me to
him and held me tight as he whispered in my ear, "I love you. Tell Jordan I said hi and she's welcome to stay at the hotel for as long as she likes."

God,
when he said things like that, I had a hard time remembering that sometimes he
really did things that pissed me off. How was I supposed to stay mad at him
when he was so sweet and thoughtful to not only me but my best friend?

Hugging
him, I said, "One of these days I'm going to figure out how you make me
love you so much, Tristan Stone. One of these days."

He
pulled away and smiled as he cupped my chin with his palm. "Then that's
the day I'll have to figure out a new way."

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jordan
and I spent hours poring over thick, glossy bridal magazines, oohing and ahhing
over the most gorgeous dresses I'd ever seen. Every few pages we'd find another
one that we added to the list of "possibles" and fold over the corner
of the page so that by the time we were done, the magazines had grown to twice
their original size.

My
call to my sister went as I thought it would. She couldn't believe her baby
sister was getting married and had at least a dozen reasons why I shouldn't
marry someone I'd only known for a few months and why they couldn't just pick
up and leave to go on a vacation to some island in the middle of December.
After her lengthy lecture on how marriage was a serious step that should be
taken only after two people knew each other for much longer than six months, I
explained that it was an all-expense paid trip for her and her family and if
she didn't want to be there, so be it.

Jordan was much easier to convince. I don't think I had gotten the complete story about our
island wedding plans out of my mouth before she was jumping out of her chair
and racing around the hotel suite rambling about all the things she had to do
at work to be able to go. But most importantly, she promised she'd be there,
standing next to me as my maid of honor.

By
the time I arrived back at the house, the Executive Home people were nowhere to
be found. I threw the mail Jenson had picked up at the apartment on the desk in
the bedroom and set out to look for Tristan. I found him sitting at his desk in
his office looking particularly tired.

"Hey,
you. How did your photo shoot go? Did they love the house?"

He
looked up at me standing in the doorway and forced a smile. "It was fine. You
know how I hate pictures."

"You
look exhausted. Tell me what I can do." I leaned over behind him and
nuzzled his neck. "A nice massage?"

He
hung his head and cracked his neck. "I'd love that. I have to get ready
for one of those goddamn events tonight."

My
hands eased the tension from his shoulders and neck, which felt like they were
twisted into tight knots. "Just remember it's for charity."

Pinching
the bridge of his nose, he grumbled, "Not this time. This time it's pure
promotion. The Richmont is hosting the release party for some author's new
book."

"Why
do you have to be there?"

"The
board loves to have me at these things. Any time the hotel is featured in some
book or movie, they love to build the whole thing up. It's ridiculous, but as
the face of the business, I have to be there."

"You
mean the hotel was part of the book's story?"

Blowing
air out in a heavy sigh, he nodded. "Yeah. It's the setting for a good
portion of the book, I guess. Thank God it's not a murder mystery or my lawyers
would be suing the poor author for all she's worth."

"Oh.
Well, it won't be so bad. You'll have one of the actresses there and you'll be
able to practice your looking-like-a-statue skills," I said with a laugh.

He
lifted his head. "I have a better idea. Come with me."

"What?"

He
spun around in his chair and faced me. "Come with me. It's only a matter
of time before we tell the world about us, and at least we won't be the focus
tonight. You'll get to see what you'll be facing from now on. I promise to even
smile."

"The
press will know for sure there's something going on if you smile,
Tristan."

"Then
it's settled," he said suddenly looking much happier.

I
shook my head as the realization of what he wanted me to do settled into my
brain. I had no dress to wear to an event like this. I had no practice dealing
with the public or the press. My hair and makeup would need to be done.

Shaking
my head, I backed away from him. "No, Tristan. I don't have anything I
need to be able to go. I don't have anything to wear."

"No
problem. Let me take care of that." Turning around toward his desk, he
dialed the phone and said, "Angelo, it's Tristan Stone. I need a gown, red
or black, for the same client you handled before and I want to see your choices
at my house in Duchess County in an hour."

Angelo
said something that pleased him because he smiled broadly as he hung up the
phone. I walked to the side of the desk and folded my arms across my chest.
"Same client you handled before? I thought you said you picked out all
those clothes that day."

Turning
on the charm, he pulled me back to sit on his lap. He traced the outline of my
lips with his fingertip and said, "I'm guilty. It was a little white lie.
I trust Angelo, so it's like I picked them out myself anyway."

"Actually,
I think I'm okay with you not picking out my outfits. It has a weird vibe to it
and there's something about you knowing that much about women's clothes that
I'm not really feeling."

"That's
good because other than wanting to tear them off you at times, I don't know
much about them. But Angelo does, so don't worry. He'll make sure you have a
dress worthy of you."

Worthy
of me?
Never before in my life had I thought of clothes in terms of
anything being worthy of me. If something fit and I liked it, I bought it. Its
worthiness or mine was never an issue. A dress worthy of me sounded like
another sign that I wasn't ready for this party.

"Are
you sure about this?" I asked quietly as he busied himself with shutting
down his laptop.

He
looked up with a quizzical expression on his face. "Sure about what?"

"Me
going with you tonight. I don't want to ruin anything for you."

"Nina,
you could never ruin anything for me. You're the woman I love and intend to
marry in a few short weeks. Tonight is more for me than anything else. I don't
want to go, but at least if you're with me, I'll be happy."

"It's
just that..." I stopped myself and then said what was really on my mind.
"No matter what Angelo brings for me to wear, I'm not going to look like
the women you usually take to these kinds of affairs."

Tristan
stood from his chair and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close. "I
don't have any interest in those women. I've told you that. They're picked
because they look like the typical type of woman men like me date."

"But
that's the point I'm trying to make. I don't look like that type of
woman."

"You
don't see many of those relationships lasting very long, do you? What kind of
man wants to be with a woman who loves the way she looks more than she loves
you?"

I
looked down to avoid his stare, no matter how much love I knew was in it.
"I just don't want to embarrass you."

He
gently forced my head up with his hands on the sides of my face so I had no
choice but to look at him. His caring eyes stared intently down into my eyes.
"I don't ever want to hear you say that again, Nina. I love you for many
reasons, but I won't lie. The way you look is one of those reasons. It may not
be the only reason or the main reason, but I think you're beautiful. I don't
want a stick woman who doesn't enjoy the food I want to buy her or who thinks
spending hours doing her makeup and hair is important. I want you because you
aren't like them. I can be myself with you. You don't know how much that means
to me. I've spent years around women who I had to pretend with. From the first
night we met, I didn't have to be anyone but myself. I love that in you."

His
words convinced me. I could be the person I needed to be for these events.
"Okay. Let's do this."

"That's
my Nina. Now go enjoy a nice bath while I discuss something with Jenson. I'll
let you know when Angelo arrives."

 

The
bath helped relax me a little, but the reality was that I was terrified of
being compared to those other women he always escorted to events. After
spending enough time in the water to get pruney, I dressed in the clothes I'd
worn that day and fiddled with my hair to get that upswept look like movie
stars wore to award ceremonies. Over and over, I twirled and twisted my light
brown hair only to have it fall down in a mess around my face. The problem was
that Tristan's bathroom had none of the necessary items required to keep my
hair like that.

Sure
it was hopeless, I stared into the mirror wondering how I'd ever pull this
night off. I could probably do something pretty nice with my makeup, but no
hair pins meant my sort of straight in parts and sort of curly in other parts
look would be the one I'd be stuck with.

Crestfallen,
I tried once more only to have the end result be the same, but then an idea
struck me. I tore through the house to find Rogers. If there was a hair pin or
anything else that might work, he'd be the one to have it. I found him
arranging the silverware in the kitchen and as I tried to catch my breath,
pleaded, "Rogers, I need hair pins. Please tell me somewhere in this house
there's something that can help me look like the women who go to these affairs
Tristan attends."

His
expression was blank for a long time, and then his long face lifted into a tiny
smile. "I think I might know where one or two are, miss. Give me a moment,
please."

Thrilled,
I nodded excitedly and watched him walk off toward the area of the house he
lived in. I waited impatiently, shifting my weight from side to side as he was
gone a minute and then five. Finally, he returned with two silver pins that
would definitely work.

He
handed them to me with a slight bow. "I think these may do the job,
miss."

Grabbing
them, I turned to race back to the bathroom but turned back as I hit the
hallway outside the kitchen. "Thank you, Rogers! You're the best."

The
butler nodded and bowed again, deeper this time. "You're most welcome,
miss."

The
hair pins did the trick and within fifteen minutes I'd transformed myself into
a sexy temptress with a gorgeous upswept hairdo and smoky eyes that were all
the rage in magazines. Tugging a small clump of hair near each temple out of
the pins' hold, I looked in the mirror, pleased with my efforts. I may not look
exactly like those actresses Tristan usually had on his arm, but I was sporting
a rather sophisticated look, if I did say so myself.

I
heard him call my name and found him and a man who I assumed was Angelo in the
foyer near the front door. His shopper was thin, immaculately dressed, and
expressive, to say the least. He held five dresses in his hand out to the side
and almost above his head—all formal gowns that I was sure would look stunning,
even on me.

"Mr.
Stone, I have five dresses in exactly the young lady's size. Which do you
prefer?" he asked with a flourish of his free hand.

"Angelo,
I think it would be better to ask the young lady. I pay you to shop for me for
a reason."

The
man feigned a bow. "As you wish. Miss, which would you like to begin
with?"

I
turned toward Tristan. "Do we have time for me to try on more than
one?"

My
question seemed to amuse him. Smiling, he said, "We have as much time as
you need. We'll arrive when you're satisfied with the dress. And if you don't
like any of these, I'm sure Angelo has more just outside."

I
saw a pained look cross Angelo's face telling me he'd brought no more than what
he held in his hand. Stepping toward them, I looked through them quickly and
picked a black strapless one with a slight bustle in the back. "Let's try
this one, Angelo," I said with a smile, hoping he'd see I didn't want to
make this job as difficult as Tristan seemed to.

"Black
it is, miss."

I
tried to take the dress from him, but Tristan ordered him to follow me back to
the bedroom with the dresses. Walking back to our room, I heard him attempt to
make small talk with Tristan, with little success. As I entered the bedroom, I
turned and took the dress from him.

"We'll
be out here waiting, Nina," Tristan said with a wink as I closed the door
to the dressing room and bathroom.

I
soon found that Angelo was just as good with formal wear as he was with my work
clothes. The dress fit flawlessly in all the right spots, accentuating my
figure and hiding those areas that I'd always stressed over. My breasts looked
perfect, and as I twirled around in front of the mirror, I saw the bustle made
my behind look incredible.

Looking
down at my bare feet, I suddenly realized I didn't have shoes. I flung open the
door and before either man could say a thing, exclaimed, "I have no shoes!
I can't go without shoes!"

A
pair of gold strap stilettos hung from Angelo's hand as he stared at me with a
look that screamed he found me silly. "At your service, miss."

 Trudging
over to him, I took the shoes and slid them on. Just as he'd succeeded with the
dress, the shoes were a perfect fit. I wanted to ask how he knew my size, but I
figured it wasn't something worth knowing.

I
held my arms out and modeled the dress and shoes for Tristan. "Well? How's
it look?"

Tristan's
expression was serious, and he folded his arms. "Gorgeous. Simply
gorgeous."

I
beamed at his compliment, agreeing wholeheartedly with his assessment. Turning
toward Angelo, he said, "I'll leave Miss Edwards with you for anything
else she may need." He looked over at me and smiled. "I have to get
dressed, but I'll be back in a few minutes. Whatever you need, tell Angelo and
he'll see to it."

He
left and Angelo produced a gold choker necklace with diamonds. It looked
dazzling merely sitting in his hand. "If you will allow me, miss."

I
turned around and he clasped it closed around my neck. Looking down, I ran my
fingertips over the necklace, loving the feel of it against my skin. Spinning
around to face him, I said, "I love it, Angelo. You have the most
wonderful taste!"

"Thank
you, miss."

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