Jude's Salvation: This Love Series (3 page)

“
Yes, at the Acacia hostel, um, where should I meet you for breakfast?” I ask, sounding breathless, cursing myself for telling a stranger where I am staying. He doesn’t break eye contact when I reply. Feeling overwhelmed, I look away trying to hide my blush. I catch Sophie and Angie stop mid stride and stare at me, both of them looking shocked. He seems to understand my indecision when he spots my friends watching us. I look back up at him and he ever so slowly, almost reluctantly takes his eyes from me and pulls a card from his pocket then hands it me, his finger slightly grazing mine.

“
Here’s my cell number, text me when you can and I’ll give you the location of the best place in London for an authentic English breakfast,” he says with that grin again before disappearing further back into the pub leaving me with his scent. I inhale deeply, my eyes closing. So male and clean but disturbing in the most sensual way. I open my eyes to try to find him again but he’s gone. The scent of him almost brought back a memory but I can’t claim it. Angie’s voice breaks through my thoughts.

“
Wow girl, picking up a hottie on the first night, sweet," Angie says excitedly, wrapping her arm over my shoulder. I smile, catching Mariana’s disapproving glare.

Once back in our room she breaks her silence. “You know I have to come with you tomorrow morning right? Buddy system, remember?” I should have known she heard everything.

“
I don’t think so darling. I love you and all but dates I do solo. Anyway, it’s just breakfast in a public place. I’ll be fine. If you want I’ll meet you guys when it’s over,” I tell her.

“
I want to know details Eden, his name, where you’re going, the time you’re meeting him too,” she continues on.

“
You are going to make a great mother some day Mariana,” I laugh. Picking up my cell, I enter in his number. The business card he gave me only has the initials J. E. with his number below it. The card looks professional, solid paper, silver bubbled letters on a black satin sheen card. I assume he gives them out for business and not just hook ups. Maybe I shouldn’t pursue him. I mean what guy in his twenties gives out business cards to girls. He is no doubt trouble masked behind that gorgeous smile and perfect cheekbones. I glance at Mariana and see her studying my face, knowing that I’m having second thoughts. I can tell a lecture of ‘I told you so’ coming on. I shake my head then look back at his card. I wave it in front of my face and I actually think I can smell his cologne, masculine and refined. I sigh as I pick up my cell and unlock it. I have no doubts that I am going to text him. I am going to see him again.

“
I’m going to find out his name now,” I grin, knowing it will tick her off even more. Sophie looks up from her book, a confused expression on her face.

“
You are going out with a guy but you don’t know his name?” she asks, raising her eyebrow at me.

“
Not yet, but I will before the date starts,” I inform them. Returning to my bed I open his number again, adding his contact name as ‘the voice’. Oh that voice. When he whispered so close to my ear I swear I almost moaned. He is too hot. It should be illegal for him to speak in public. I feel giddy as I begin to text him, like a high school girl with a secret crush.

Me: Hi strange man I just met in a pub on my first evening in London. I’m the American girl that you asked out for an authentic English breakfast in the morning. Just wondering if we are still on for this feast?

I wait for his response, cell in hand, only shaking slightly. Shaking? Am I nervous? I put the phone under my pillow and change into my pajamas before sneaking a peek at it again.

“
He replied,” I squeal, causing a pillow to fly across the room and hitting the side of my head. I glare over at Angie and she laughs. I throw it back to her and read his response.

Him: Absolutely beautiful girl. I’m staying at the Wiltshire, just a few blocks from you. I looked it up because I have no idea where hostels are. I can meet you out front your building at nine thirty?

“
He called me beautiful girl,” I squeal again. Another pillow flies across the room and hits me but I continue smiling.

Me: Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you at nine thirty.

Him: We can walk to the cafe, it isn’t far. If you would like, you can invite your traveling companions as well.

His concern makes me feel warm. He must be a nice guy. I know my friends will follow me but I want to meet him alone.

Me: I think I can handle breakfast with a charming, polite English man on my own. You haven’t told me your name yet, what should I call you?

Him: You can call me whatever you would like but my parents named me Jude Edward Everett. Please tell me your name.

Me: Well, Jude Edward Everett, my name isn’t as serious as yours. Eden Clara Daniels but I’ll respond to 'beautiful girl' too.

Him: Sleep well beautiful Eden, I am looking forward to meeting you in the morning.

Me: Good night Jude, till the morning.

I sigh as I put my phone under the pillow. “Love at first sight huh?” Mariana asks.

“
More like lust at first sight,” Angie blurts out, making kissing sounds from her bed. I just moan and roll over, wondering why I had to meet him here, so many miles from my home. Love at first sight, I wanted it but it does make me nervous. He makes me nervous but in a good way. I have the butterflies but I’ll have to wait and see about the fireworks.

“
So, what’s his name?” Sophie asks from across the room.

“
Jude Edward Everett,” I say aloud and it sounds so good on my tongue.

“
That is a very proper British name, I like it,” she tells me.

“
Me too,” Mariana adds.

“
I like the name Jude,” Angie whispers.

“
Thanks guys, goodnight,” I whisper as I roll over and wrap the blanket around me, the sound of Jude’s voice in my head lulling me to sleep.

“
Wake up, Eden please wake up,” Angie yells, shaking my shoulders. I can see the panic in her eyes when I manage to focus on my friend sitting on top of me, desperately trying to wake me. I raise my hands in compliance.

“
I’m up, Angie I’m up,” I said, shaking her from me. I watch in confusion as Angie jumps off the bed and rubs her hands over her face quickly, as though exasperated.

“
My god Eden, have you told anyone about these nightmares, you almost gave us all a heart attack,” she groans, collapsing in Mariana’s arms. Sophie hovered over me, wiping my face with a cold cloth.

“
What happened?” I ask, unsure as to why they were so freaked out. I don’t usually remember my dreams very clearly when I wake up, they become blurry, like my mind is trying to hide them from me.

“
You began sobbing, it was so sad Eden. I tried to get you to stop but you just became louder. You were crying uncontrollably, shaking and hyperventilating. You kept asking for your mother, you demanded to know where your mother was, where Marisa was. You cried her name but you called your mother Marisa. You seemed to be screaming at a man to let her go,” Sophie said, watching my face for a reaction. I shook my head, none of this made any sense.

“
It was obviously just a nightmare, I’m sorry to have upset everyone,” I explained, knowing the dreams were getting worse since I stopped taking my medication. I didn’t even bring them with me. I had hid them in my closet, in a shoebox back at home. I wouldn’t know what to ask for if I went to a doctor here for a refill. My mother always gave me an unlabeled bottle. She said my doctor likes to dispense medications that way.

I only questioned it once, a few years ago. I demanded to know what they were giving me. She relented and gave me the chemical name of the two drugs I've been taking for as long as I could remember. I tried searching the pharmaceutical companies for the name of the medications but came up empty which didn’t make sense. I even went to a doctor in Boston who said he had never heard of them. He had suggested that they might be experimental psychiatric medications. When he asked how long I’d been taking them I told him six years because that’s as far back as I can remember. My life is pretty much a blur to me before that. As far as I know from what everyone has told me, I was in a very serious car accident, suffered a concussion and when I woke up I didn't know anyone. Six years ago I was lying in a hospital bed in New York when my father arrived and said he was taking me home, to LA. I was hoping that the things in my bedroom might help my memory but they didn't. It was as if none of it was really mine.

Dr. Adams said it shouldn’t be experimental anymore, which seemed to make us both curious. He told me he would contact me if he found out anything and suggested I wean myself off them. When I mentioned this to my mother she demanded I keep taking them for my health.

When I called back my doctor in Boston a week later he told me they were safe and are for my ‘heart’ condition. He surprised me when he told me to keep taking them. Then he told me he couldn’t accept me as a patient and shouldn’t come back to see him, ever. I was furious. I knew my father had contacted him and threatened him somehow for talking to me which didn’t make any sense. He must have checked my cell history which made me even more furious with him. I felt like their control stepped over a boundary line. When I confronted him about it he claimed he had no idea I was seeing another doctor and even asked if I was feeling well. I knew he was lying but couldn't prove it. It took me a few years to get up the nerve to wean myself off them before leaving on this trip.

I managed to go to a walk-in clinic and pay cash to have my heart checked. The results gave me what I knew already. There is nothing wrong with my heart, I am perfectly healthy and certainly don't need any cardiac medications. It has been three weeks since I last took them and the biggest symptoms I have are nightmares and headaches.

I stood up, avoiding my friends curious stares and walked to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I washed my face and looked into my tired, bloodshot eyes.

“
Marisa, my mother. Marisa,” I whisper. The name sounding so familiar. I stare into the mirror and see a woman’s face that looks like mine. She is older than me but has the same eyes and the same nose. Her smile is so beautiful. I blink repeatedly then look again, but this time she has blood running from her forehead and her eyes have gone black. I scream as I jump back, my head hitting the wall. I slide down to the floor and hug my knees to my chest, ignoring Angie banging on the door to let her in.

“
Eden, open the fucking door,” she demands. I reach my hand up and unlock it. She crouches down in front of me, fear in her eyes as she stares at me. I know Sophie and Mariana are watching me too but I can’t say anything. Something is seriously wrong with me and I’m frightened to be alone.

“
I’m sorry but I think I’m having some type of flashback or something. I don’t understand where these memories are coming from. They’re not mine, are they? I mean my mother’s name is Vivian and I’ve never seen this woman that looks like me before,” I mutter, knowing I’m not making any sense to them. I’m suppose to meet Jude today but maybe now isn’t the best time to get involved with anyone, even a nice, charming man that just wants to take me out for breakfast. A giggle escapes my lips which makes me look even crazier to my friends. He should at least be warned that I’m losing my mind.

CHAPTER THREE

Promises

I’m up at eight, showering and trying to look presentable in this dark tiny bathroom. I resort to a ponytail for my unruly hair and minimal makeup, eyelashes curled, mascara and pink lip balm.

“
That will have to do,” I mumble to myself as I spray on my perfume, the last thing I want is to smell like this room. He knows I’m staying in a hostel so I’m sure he’s not expecting a supermodel this morning. After brushing my teeth I dress again for the cool morning air, although without a window I can only assume it’s cloudy and gray out there. I pull on my dark skinny jeans, a peach silk tee shirt and a long gray cardigan. I’ve always been the kind of girl that likes to add splashes of color to an outfit and since it’s summer, peach is my color of choice today. I sit on the bed to put on my espadrilles. He’s tall so I don’t want to wear flats walking beside him.

Damn, I’m so nervous. I take a few deep breaths. Guys don’t make me nervous but this one is killing me. Maybe I’m nervous because I have nothing to hide behind. I don’t have my family name to impress him. I can’t hide behind my wealth and reputation. To him I am a blank slate.
It's just me now, the way I thought I always wanted to meet someone but now I don't know if I’ll be enough.

Angie wraps her arms around me and holds me tight, calming my rapid heart beat.

"You look beautiful Eden and you're the coolest, funniest girl I know. You're pretty smart too so just be yourself. He's lucky to have a chance to meet you, remember that," she tells me.

"Thanks Angie, I needed that," I whisper.

"Its nine thirty," Sophie shouts at me from across the room, she would have been down there ten minutes ago.

"Thanks Sophie, I'm on my way," I say taking a deep breath, pushing my shoulders back and mustering up all my confidence. I walk down the stairs as quickly as I can without falling. Breaking an ankle would ruin this trip. Before I reach the door handle it opens in front of me, a man steps to the side for me to pass. I glance from his shoes up to his broad shoulders, sweeping across his muscular biceps, quickly past his lips and settling on his eyes. I smile automatically. The man is even more stunning in the morning light.

"Good morning beautiful Eden," he said with that grin I’m beginning to love and that's the voice alright. My knees weaken but I manage to walk through the door and out onto the sidewalk.

"Good morning charming Jude," I reply. If he can throw compliments at me I'll throw them back. I'll save 'sexy Jude' for later.

"Shall we," he asks offering me his hand. He has amazing manners but something tells me there is a bad boy inside him. I steal a peek at him again, looking him over as we walk down the busy London street.
He keeps me close when the sidewalk narrows and leads me across the street when it is safe. I like this protective vibe. I also like the dark denim jeans he has on and the gray tee-shirt with a v, I usually don’t like that look on a guy but on Jude it looks so good. His Ray Bans have been hung on it which I’m hoping he’ll have to use. I’m missing the sun already and it hasn’t even been forty eight hours yet.

He looks over at me and grins, his eyes even lighting up. Do I do that for him? Can he really like me that much already? His confidence is so attractive as he leads me into the restaurant. I catch the hostess take a second glance at Jude, looking him up and down, not as discreetly as she should. I grip Jude’s hand tighter. I can’t claim him as mine yet, but he is taking me out not her this morning. I’m surprised by my possessiveness already.

“
A table for two please,” he orders her, then suddenly he raises our clasped hands to his lips and he kisses my knuckles, causing the hostess to turn swiftly, directing us to our table. A strange excitement had coursed through me with his touch. I’m not sure if he did it to make it obvious he wasn’t interested in her or if he did it because he wanted to kiss my skin.

Once seated his serious eyes meet my confused ones. He smiles and his gaze goes to the menu in front of him. I pick up mine and look through it, unable to focus on the words. My head still feeling dizzy from his simple kiss, his warm lips sent a wave of heat through me. The waitress steps towards our table and smiles brightly.

“
Good morning, can I get you a beverage to start?” she asks with a really thick British accent.

“
Yes, we’ll take two coffees with milk please,” he tells her than glances at me with a raised eyebrow.

“
Yes, thank you,” I nod, keeping my eyes on him as she walks away.

“
As I told you, they have the best English breakfast here but looking you over I’m not sure you can handle it,” he smirks. I can’t help but grin like an idiot, he said he looked me over. Yes, I am in trouble.

“
What do you mean I can’t handle it? What is it exactly?” I ask, feeling like a tourist.

“
It’s two eggs, beans, toast with jam and a couple of bangers with mash and a side of black pudding,” he laughs as my face turns pale. My stomach actually flipped a little at his description.

“
Right, no, you go ahead though,” I reply looking down at his waist then back up. The man is solid, I’m sure he has abs of steel. I would really be surprised if he could eat that much in one sitting.
Reading through the menu again, I settle on a simple order of scrambled eggs and toast. It looks safe enough. I have no idea what the mash is or the black pudding and I’m not feeling especially brave this morning.

When the waitress leaves after taking our order a quietness settles between us. I take a sip of my coffee and place it back down, he does the same. His gaze sears my cheeks, he’s following my every movement, searching my eyes for something, almost as though he’s waiting for me to recognize him. He seems to be waiting for me to say something. My fingers tap the table, an uneasiness beginning to creep over me. I wish he would tell me what he thinks he wants to hear.

“
So where are you from Eden Daniels?” he asks, breaking the building tension. I like the way he says my name, Eee-dan. I smile as I say it over in my head.

“
Los Angeles is where I live most of the year, it’s where I grew up and went to school,” I inform him. He raises his eyebrows as if questioning my answer.

"You were born in Los Angeles then? Went to elementary and middle school there?" he asks, watching me closely. He couldn't possibly know that I can't honestly answer that question so I just nod and sip my coffee. He seems almost as confused as I am.

“
You said most of the year, where else do you live?” he asks, changing the subject from my past and the sudden awkwardness.

“
I’m in my third year at Harvard, so Boston has become my second home and I actually do a lot of traveling too,” I inform him. I guess I just want him to know more about me. He nods his head, seeming pleased with my answer this time.

“
What are you studying at Harvard?” he asks, continuing his interrogation when our orders are placed in front of us. I gasp, laughing at the all the food in front of him.

“
Please tell me you are not going to eat all that?” I ask, shocked.

“
I am a growing boy, I need my protein to build muscles,” he laughs.

“
Ok, fine eat the protein but please don’t eat that pile of, of...whatever that is,” I say, pointing at the mash.

“
I have to eat the mash, it’s disrespectful to the chef if I don’t,” he says almost so gravely I think he’s serious till a grin creeps across his face.

“
So, answer the question, what are you studying at Harvard?”

“
Law,” I answer, taking a bite of my toast. He looks shocked as he stares at me, his fork halting mid air.

“
What, you look surprised, should I be insulted by your reaction?” I ask.

“
No, of course not, I’m impressed. That’s great, it’s just that I’ve actually graduated from Oxford with a degree in law myself,” he mentions, taking a bite while I digest his revelation.

“
Wow, interesting. So are you practicing now then?” I ask.

“
Yes, you could say that. I also have a few businesses just getting off the ground so my work is all rather contract-based,” he tells me. I decide I won’t dig into his professional life. It’s his personal life I’m more interested in anyway. I know he wouldn’t confess to having a girlfriend or being married but I am interested in his social life. I’ve taken note of his fingers, ring free and no tell tale tan lines.

“
What is your favorite city?” I ask, changing the subject but still needing to hear him talk.
It's been too long since I've dated and getting to know him is fun. Plus he has no idea what just the vibration of his voice does to me. If he only knew why I am blushing right now.

"I think I would have to say my hometown, where I was born and raised. Paris, France is truly my favorite city in the entire world and yes I have been to most of them," he informs me. I'm surprised. I thought he was from London.

"I thought the English hate the French, and why do you have a British accent if you are from Paris?" I ask, digging for more information on this mysterious man. That's why his accent sounded different than the others at the pub.

"I was raised in Paris then I moved to London at sixteen before moving on to Oxford. My mother is French and my father is Dutch and English. I have a few different languages reeking havoc on my accent," he muses. I smile thinking about his lips and the way words roll off them, he makes everything sound sexy.

"I like your accent Jude. When did you graduate?" I ask, wanting him to continue.

"I left Oxford a number of years ago, I’ve been busy building my empire ever since," he tells me with a wink. Okay, he wants to keep his age a secret from me for now. He leaves me speechless, my parents would certainly approve. He's hot as hell and smart too. Do I really need to know more?

"Tell me about you? Why are you staying in a hostel, for starters? That one I don't understand," he asks, his eyebrows raised in an inquiring fashion, making him look even manlier.

"You know, just a few girls exploring Europe, backpacking style," I grin.

"Uh huh, just a few very privileged girls who haven't learned how to take the tags off their backpacks and hide their Gucci labels from their wallets. I mean Eden, please, they had manicures, eyebrow waxing and facial peels before leaving on this trip. I'm telling you this because if I noticed then so did the thieves. If the four of you continue on this journey then please try and look more like starving students. The idea of someone taking advantage of you frightens me," he explained. Considering I don't even know if he is trustworthy, I'm suddenly frightened a little to continue. I hadn't even thought of those things. I suppose we do look like easy targets and here I am out alone with a complete stranger. He seems to catch my wary look as I glance back over at him. He smiles and holds his hands out for mine. I hesitantly place them in his. He runs his thumb over the tops of my hands and instantly my fear of him vanishes but I have to ask him, to confirm that I am safe with him.

“
Am I
your
target Jude?” I whisper, feeling nervous. Reluctantly I pull one of my hands away and reach for my wallet, checking my pounds and credit cards. He laughs at my reaction, seeming to be pleased by my inspection.

"You are safe with me Eden, I swear it. I have no intention of stealing from you or harming you in anyway. I like your smile too much, but seriously, what are you doing out with me? If I didn’t already see your back up over there I would be furious with you," he grins. He doesn’t frighten me and I knew he wasn’t a threat, at least not to my material possessions but maybe to my heart. I glance around the restaurant and spot my girls at a table a few rows down. Mariana winks at me and I stifle a laugh. I do love them. I turn back to Jude with a smile on my face.

“
You are not my target Eden. I do not stalk naive female tourists or any tourists for that matter. I actually don’t
stalk
anyone,” he stammers, I can tell he’s feeling a little flustered. He takes a breath and looks into my eyes.

“
I just happened to be at the right place at the right time, lucky enough to set my eyes on the prettiest woman I have ever seen. I couldn’t resist. I can admit that I have no self control. I am a selfish man. I take what I want and Eden, I want you,” his voice sounds even deeper, sending shivers over my exposed flesh. He wants me. I want him. I want those lips on mine. His eyelids actually seem heavier making him look like a sultry male model out of GQ magazine. I wonder if he knows this. I take in a deep breath, and as hard as it is, as much as I don’t want to believe it, I call his bluff. He must pick woman up like this all the time. There isn’t anything that special about me. He may want me this week but who did he have last week and who will he want next week. I regain my composure, feeling way too insecure suddenly.

“
Nice line Jude, you almost had me,” I reply with a wink, sounding more self-confident than I actually am. I tighten my ponytail, feeling vulnerable in front of him now. He keeps his eyes on me, looking confused at my reply. I’m sure rejection isn’t something he’s used to.