Girl on a Diamond Pedestal (15 page)

She hooked her leg over his back and pulled him to her. He entered her in one smooth stroke and she locked her legs around his hips, holding him to her, reveling in this moment. In being joined to him. Because nothing made sense. Not how she felt about him, not how he seemed to feel about her. Or didn’t feel about her. At least this was honest.

Here and now there was no acting.

She put her hand on Ethan’s cheek, and he met her gaze, his dark eyes glittering in the dim light of the room. The tendons on his neck stood out, his breathing harsh, his heartbeat raging. She could feel his pulse echoing beneath her hand, pounding through her.

Every time he entered her, she wanted to take him deeper, to hold him to her longer. She slid her hands down to grip his shoulders, dug her fingernails into his back. He held her too, hands braced on her hips.

The pleasure was blinding, beyond anything she’d ever known. But it was secondary to the connection that was forged, stronger, more permanent, with each breath, with each movement.

He was a part of her. Drawing pieces of her away, bringing more substance back into her. Like sand in the waves.

She fought against her climax, because it meant the end. Because this was the end. She knew it. Knew it in every fiber of being. But it caught her, grabbed her. She
reached the peak of pleasure as he found his and they rode the crest together, completely silent except for the harsh notes of their breath.

He withdrew from her body, but stayed on his knees, his arms resting on the bed. Noelle blinked and brushed her hair out of her face with shaking fingers. Every part of her was trembling, inside and out.

She rolled to the side, trying to put distance between them, trying to find a way to escape the pain that was clawing in her chest, pushing out the memory of the pleasure, the closeness they’d just shared.

She looked at Ethan. His face, his gorgeous, precious face. She had never loved anyone like she loved him. Had never needed anyone the way she needed him.

And she knew she couldn’t do that to herself. She couldn’t keep loving people who didn’t love her back. She couldn’t keep pouring herself into people who would leave her.

Because as hard as she had fallen when her mother had left, as devastating as it had been to lose her piano teacher, those two constants in her life, if she grew to trust that Ethan would stay … that he would love her when everyone else seemed unable to … she didn’t know how she would survive it.

So she had to walk out now. While she had the strength.

She stood up from the bed and walked over to her suitcase. She found a pair of jeans that had remained unpacked and tugged them on beneath her dress.

“Noelle,” Ethan said, his voice rough. “Stay with me.”

She shook her head.

“Stay,” he said again, more desperate this time.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

She took a deep breath. “I have an audition next weekend.
I haven’t practiced at all while we’ve been here. I need to get back.”

“So you can work on your music.” It wasn’t a question, neither was it an accusation. It was a statement, hollow, empty.

“Yes. You’re right. That’s why we had this whole relationship. That’s the point of it all, you reminded me of that.”

She looked at him. He was still on his knees at the foot of the bed and she wanted, more than anything, to drop to her knees in front of him and kiss him. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

“I wish you would stay,” he said again, his voice muted.

Her chest tightened and she feared her heart would burst from it. “I can’t, Ethan. This … this is all fine for a few days,” she said, indicating the gaudy room. “But it’s not my life. My music is my life. It’s what I need.”

“Take my plane.”

“No, I’ll figure something out …”

“Take it. Dammit Noelle, take it.” He stood and jerked his pants back up, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. He opened it and punched in a number. “Have the plane fueled and ready to go. Mrs. Grey needs to get back to New York.”

“That wasn’t necessary,” she said.

“It was. You’re still my wife. And you will be until the ink is dry on the contract my grandfather sends over. Don’t forget that.”

No. Of course not. She couldn’t forget why they were married. Certainly not for love. At least not on his part.

“I won’t.” She took her purse from the nightstand and ignored everything else. She didn’t want it. She didn’t need it. She just needed to get away from Ethan, needed to get
out of her skin so she could escape the horrible, sick feeling of grief that was washing through her.

“He was wrong, you know,” she said, her voice breaking. “You aren’t like him. You’re like your mother. You’re like I was when we first met. You think … you think you’re going to fix something in you by getting revenge, or by getting Grey’s Resorts. Just like I thought having my career back would fix something in me. But it won’t, Ethan. Not for either of us. It’s not about things. It’s about people. It’s about love. And if you can’t figure that out, if you can’t find that, then you won’t ever be happy. And nothing you have will ever be enough.”

Ethan watched Noelle walk out of the room. She closed the door with a finality that rocked him. Still he watched. To see if she would come back.

He was a fool.

He had thought that somehow winning this game with his father, that somehow making Damien pay for what had happened would make him, Ethan … worth something. That he would suddenly be the man he needed to be to make things right. That holding the power, the Grey family legacy, would add some sort of value to him.

The boy who had been ignored by the two people in his life who should have loved him had been working toward this paper, pinning his hopes on it meaning something, for years. Hoping that revenge would prove him to be the better man, that having the family business pass to him would somehow prove him to be smarter, more worthy.

So now he had it. And it hadn’t made a damn bit of difference. He wasn’t better. He wasn’t fixed. His entire life was shattered now, broken into a million unfixable pieces. He had lost Noelle.

He had everything that he’d wanted, that he’d dreamed of. He had billions of dollars and he had notoriety and
fame, and yet she had walked away. He had banked on this moment. On somehow triumphing over his father and it mattering in some way, somehow removing the empty, unsatisfied ache inside of him.

Maybe because his own success had never impressed his father. Had never made his mother care.

Anyway, he had done it now, and in the process had increased his own power, his own bank balance. And it had only confirmed what he’d always suspected. Everything he’d feared.

That, as much as he’d wanted to place blame elsewhere, the problem was with him. Revenge had proven to be an empty thing. The acquisition of more hotels, even emptier. Noelle was right. No amount of material possessions could make a difference.

The problem truly was in him. He would never be enough. His love would never be enough.

And he loved Noelle. No matter how much he’d tried to deny it to himself today, no matter how much distance he’d tried to wedge between them with his actions in the high-roller room tonight, he loved her.

Even now that she’d rejected him, walked out the door when he’d all but begged her to stay, he loved her.

And he had let her go. Because when it came right down to it, he was afraid that if he had told her why he wanted her to stay, she still would have said no.

He hadn’t been willing to take the chance.

I
T
wasn’t the number she dreamed of seeing on her phone, but it wasn’t a bad number to have pop up either.

It was Jacques. Probably calling about last week’s audition. She’d all but given up hope on that. But now he was calling, and she was really hoping it was good news. She glanced at the clock, and at the line of people that stretched out the door.

It wasn’t a good time for her to take a break, and break-taking was something she had to discuss with her supervisor. Because that was how her new job as barista at the Roasted Tea and Coffee Company worked.

She had a job. And she was learning it, a lot faster than she’d imagined she might. Steaming milk and pulling shots had come pretty naturally to her, and now she could make her own latte. Which was good, since Ethan wasn’t around to buy her one. It was a small step on the road to self-sufficiency, but it was a step. One she’d been too scared to take before Ethan had come into her life.

That silly little job inputting data had done so much for her. And Ethan had acted as though she’d done it brilliantly. He’d always looked at her as if she was brilliant. And beautiful. But not the sort of beautiful other people talked about. He said it like he saw something deeper.
Hidden. Something she hadn’t seen before he had shown it to her.

Noelle released the catch on the espresso grinder and let a fine dust of beans pour into the porta-filter. She twisted it back onto the machine and hit the button, watching the shot, making sure it took the right amount of time, that it was just the right color. There was a kind of art to this job too, and she found herself really enjoying it. She liked making people smile.

She’d give it all up to play on the stage again, but it was nice to have something else to do.

“Noelle.”

Noelle looked at her co-worker, David, who was busy taking orders. “Skinny latte please, a sixteen-ounce, no foam.”

“Got it.” She put a pitcher of skim milk beneath the steam wand and nearly laughed out loud. Such a contrast from the over-the-top glitz of Las Vegas. Had it really only been two weeks? Two weeks since she’d seen Ethan? Two weeks since she’d touched him?

Then why did her skin still burn? Why did her heart still ache like this? More importantly, would she ever feel right again?

She clenched her teeth to keep from tearing up, something she’d done countless times in the past fourteen days. It was enough to drown in. She wasn’t drowning though, she was
doing
. Living.

Because one major difference between having her mother walk out of her life and losing Ethan was that Ethan hadn’t torn her down. He’d built her up. Told her she could do anything. He’d left her stronger. Even though he’d also left her broken-hearted.

You left him.

Only because she’d had to. Because someday, in the
not-too-distant future, when he got Grey’s in his possession, he would have left. He’d shown her so much. Made her want more than surface fame and recognition. But he didn’t seem to want anything more than what was on the surface.

She was starting to wonder if she should have taken the extra time, taken everything he could give. Some days it seemed like her pain couldn’t get any worse anyway, so maybe it would have been better to take a bed that had Ethan in it, rather than her big, cold bed back at the manor.

Back at her decrepit old house. But at least it was hers. Ethan had sent those papers already, paid in full. And as far as the public was concerned, they were married. No one was paying close enough attention to realize they hadn’t crossed paths in two weeks.

That was another thing she’d done. Gotten her house on the market. Soon she’d be able to move into the city, or just outside of it. Somewhere smaller. More practical.

Someplace where being alone didn’t echo so much.

“Sir, I’m afraid you’ll have to get in line.”

David’s distressed tone was answered by a harsh curse spoken in a very familiar Australian accent. She looked up and nearly melted onto the spongy rubber floor.

“Ethan?”

“You work here?” he asked.

He didn’t look good. Well, that was a lie—he looked delicious. But he looked tired. Like he hadn’t slept for two weeks. Like his whole body hurt him. He looked like she felt.

“Yes, I do. If I didn’t they wouldn’t let me behind the counter. Employees only.”

“Right. Yeah …?.right.”

“Did you have something to say?”

“I’ve had a lot of things to say, for a long time. But you walked out on me. You left me on my knees.”

People, David included, were staring now.

“May I take a break?” she asked, her eyes not leaving Ethan’s.

“Please,” David said.

She took her apron off and pulled the band from her hair, releasing it around her shoulders, before stepping out from behind the counter. “What?”

“Outside,” Ethan said.

“All right. But I don’t have long. Jacques just called and if I’m on a break anyway, I should return that.”

“Oh. Jacques.”

“About the audition.”

“Of course.” He opened the coffee shop door and held it for her. “How did that go?” he asked when they were out on the sidewalk.

“It was … he said I was a bit too dark. He wanted to hear something brighter from me. But I told him a different day.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t feel bright.”

“Any idea why that was?” he asked, his voice rough.

“You know damn well why, Ethan Grey. What are you doing here? Do you need your trophy for something else? Is that it? Did you not twist the knife hard enough into your father?”

He shook his head. “No. I don’t need a trophy. I don’t want one either. I want you. You were never a thing to me and I … I behaved abominably. And you’re right, it was the worst thing I could have done.”

“Then why?”

“It was just what you said. You were right. I was looking for Grey’s to give me some kind of validity. To bring
me some sense of satisfaction and purpose that I didn’t seem to have without it.” He took a sharp breath. “I told my grandfather I don’t want the resorts.”

“But your father …”

“Can have them. Revenge is empty, Noelle. Vain. It was for myself. All that time I thought that it was for my mother, but it never was. It was for me. I was so desperate to keep blaming my father, to find a way to make it all about him so that I wouldn’t acknowledge … I wasn’t enough for her. Or for him.”

“Ethan …”

“I wasn’t as important as her job. I wasn’t as important as her marriage. There were a few times when she told me … she wished she had never had a child. It was my fault my father didn’t love her. And that day … If I hadn’t blamed him …”

“You don’t deserve any blame in that, Ethan. You were a child.”

“A child whose parents barely looked at him. I … There’s something broken in me, Noelle. I know that. But … I still want you. Even though I messed everything up, even though you should say no, and find a man who isn’t damaged like this, I want you.”

“Then why …” she choked up, her words stalling in her aching throat. “Why didn’t you say this before I left?”

“Because I didn’t think … I thought if you still didn’t want me, even though I was getting more money, more power, then there was nothing I could ever say that would change it.”

“You jackass. You thought I would want you if you had more money?” The stunned look on his face would almost have been funny if her chest didn’t feel like a hole had been punched in it.

“It was never about you, Noelle. It was about me. Why
wasn’t I enough? My mother was so miserable raising me she tried to kill herself. My father has never seen any value in me. Why should you be different? Not because you aren’t amazing, but because I just can’t seem to earn the love of people in my life. And I’ve always dealt with it. I’ve never begged for it. Until you. I’m begging you. And I’ll get on my knees again if I have to. I want you to love me.”

The image of him, so proud, so strong, ready to crumble at her feet, undid her completely. Two warm tears slid down her cheeks and splashed onto his arm.

“I do love you, Ethan. I have … loved you … for such a long time. But I didn’t think you wanted love.”

“I didn’t. That’s a huge part of why I acted the way I did that night in the casino. I was trying to force myself to get back to business. But I couldn’t. And in the end I … I don’t want to. Love hurts, and I’ve really gotten a dose of that in the past two weeks. But I’ve decided it’s worth it. Because even though I’ve never been in so much pain before, I’ve also never felt so alive as I do because of you. Just because I love you.”

“That can’t be right.” She shook her head.

“You don’t think so?”

“No. Because that’s how you make me feel. Like I can do anything. You’ve never tried to hold me back, or tell me I can’t. You made me want to try at life again. And I was … scared, so I ran from you, from what you made me feel. But I don’t want to run. I want to stay here with you.”

“Here?” He looked around them, at the bustling sidewalk.

“Not right here, but you know what I mean.”

He dipped his head and kissed her. Warmth flooded her and she felt her heart beat again.

“I want to ask you to marry me,” he said.

“Then do it!”

“But I don’t want to interfere with your career. With touring.”

“Playing again … I want to play again. But it’s not who I am. I get that now. I’m so much more than just the piano. Than what the public thinks about me. I’m me. And you helped me figure out what that means. I want to be with you, and if music fits into that, then I’d love to play. But it’s not everything to me. It doesn’t define me. And that … there’s so much freedom in that.”

“Then Noelle, will you marry me?”

“I’m married to you already,” she said.

“I know, but we’ll do it somewhere else, not in Vegas this time.”

“I liked our wedding.”

“In that case, will you stay married to me? Forever?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you, Noelle, for loving me. Just me.”

She leaned in and kissed him, her tongue teasing the edge of his lips. “It’s not a hard thing to do, Ethan. You’re exactly what I need. More than enough for anyone, and perfect for me. Even if I could have all the fame back, all of it and then some, the adoration of millions would never mean as much as having your love.”