Love is Only a Whisper (Whisper Series) (3 page)

“Don’t get it twisted,” he said.

She took a sip of her drink. “No riddles tonight, Ashton. I’m not in the mood.”

He moved closer to her. “Do you realize that is the first time you’ve said my name this evening?”

She frowned. “So?”

“I like the sound of it on your tongue.” Then he abruptly walked to the bar again. “Besides, I have told you why you’re here.”

He was one strange man.

“No, you didn’t.”

“Staying at the gazebo
was out of the question. I didn’t want to risk running into Melissa. I needed
to get you off the premises. Your house was too far. Mine was the closest and
secluded.”

She set her glass on a nearby table. “Okay. You achieved what you set out to do.” She crossed her arms. “So talk.”

He squinted at her tone. “Brent’s marriage with Melissa needs a chance to thrive. They were high school sweethearts for a while. She’s loved him a long time. Let Brent go. She can’t compete with you for his affection. She’s not that type of girl.

“So, what type a girl am
I?”

“Melissa doesn’t know how to fight for what she wants.”

“And I do?”

“Yes. I believe you do. You’ve matured into a strong woman.”

“I didn’t know Brent was
married until tonight.” Hearing the words caused a slight ache in her heart.”

“The marriage happened two
days ago. Since my uncle’s a judge there was no red tape. It was a quiet family
affair.” There was a long pause. “Melissa is pregnant.”

Surprised, she took a
moment to compose herself. She wouldn’t let him see how this piece of
information affected her. “Brent would’ve told me.”

“No, he wouldn’t have.”

She glared at him. “You like
this, don’t you? For years, I could tell you didn’t want me with Brent. Your
snide remarks, your brooding stares, it was evident how much you disliked me. In
your eyes, I wasn’t good enough for him. I wasn’t the right color. I didn’t
have the right pedigree. Oh, I had money but it wasn’t old money. It didn’t get
your stamp of approval.”

She was so angry she could barely catch a breath. She
inhaled deeply reaching for control she didn’t feel.

“What the hell are you talking about? ” He shook his head and rubbed a hand across his face. “I can’t believe you. You’re making excuses and I won’t let you. Our conversation is about an inappropriate relationship you have with a married man not about color.”

“It’s more than that, and you know it.”

A red tint stained his cheekbones. He was angry as well. But
right now, she didn’t give a damn.

“I don’t know how you could form the words to come out of your mouth. For tonight only, I’ll let it go because I know you’re distraught.”

“Distraught? I’m not a child to be coddled. I’ve just lost the man I love. It’s only natural I’m hurting. I’ll not let you make me feel dirty because of my feelings for Brent. He and I have been friends, close friends, and I’ll continue to be his friend. You’ll not set the parameters.”

“Well, someone needs to because you damn sure can’t do it. You’re
too emotional.”

“Of course,
you
wouldn’t understand. Emotions are
alien to you. I love him. Love can’t be turned on and then off like a night
switch.”

He snorted in disgust,
slamming down his whiskey glass on the counter. “Brent is
married
.”

“I know that.”

“You need to stop this foolishness and accept it.” He rushed
on, “He was your first crush and you want to
equate
it to love.”

She screamed. “Look who’s
talking! A man made of stone. A man who sleeps with any woman who will spread
her legs. You don’t know a damn thing about love.” She smirked. “As for passion? 
If it slapped you in the face you wouldn’t recognize it! Lust…” She uttered a
short, brittle laugh. “Now that’s something you’re well acquainted.”

Silence sliced through the room. His eyes narrowed into slits and his lips pursed together into a tight grim line. He reached for her but she wasn’t quick enough to evade his hand. Ashton slammed her up against his hard frame, circling her waist in a firm grip. Nerve endings fired to life with a fierceness that stung. His eyes darken to a smothering hue. He placed a hand at the back of her neck, pulled her to him, with his mouth inches from hers. She fought to hold back a moan as her breasts met the steel of his chest.

“Such fire. Who would’ve
known?” He dipped his head. “I believe you get pleasure out of pushing me.”

“No…”

“Yes.” He skimmed his fingers across her lips, caressing them until she started to crave something more. Of what, she didn’t know. She opened, he inserted a finger and she instinctively suckled the tip.

“You want to be one of those women who open up for me? Would you like that?” His voice was rough. “Lust or passion? Choose one, or maybe you want both. Tell me what you want?”

Breathing became difficult, so much so, that she couldn’t
speak. Heat cascaded through her vagina, creating a flow that wet her thong
panties. It angered her that he could make her feel things she never
envisioned.

She raised her hand toward his face. “How dare you!”

He grabbed it before it connected. He smirked, brought his lips to her wrist and ran his tongue lightly across the skin. Her blood pumped furiously at the delicate touch. He watched her the entire time, boldly holding her captive with the intensity of his gaze. Finally, he laughed, released her hand, but kept his arms tightly around her waist.

“I dare a lot of things when it comes to you, Nicole,” he said in a seductive voice. “Let’s see how much passion…and lust I can muster.”

Nicole turned her head from the invasion, but not before his mouth landed on the side of her neck. His tongue gently suckled the rapid pulse. She squirmed trying to release the pressure in her core. Breathing hard, the blaze still shimmying throughout her body, she fought to rein in the emotions. Her heart pounded. If felt as if it would explode. She pushed at his shoulders, he released her and she backed up confused at what transpired. She laced her fingers together to stop the trembling.

“Why did you do that?” she croaked, her voice sounded strange
to her ears.

“Do what?” The only evidence that he was affected by what
happened was the tightening at the corners of his lips.

“Grabbed me like that.”

“I didn’t grab you. I merely placed my arms around you. Did
I frighten you?”

Tonight when she was in Brent’s arms she’d felt protected, safe and his kiss had been warm and pleasant. Not the all-consuming heat she felt with Ashton. With Brent, she didn’t feel like she was spinning out of the control and falling into an abyss. Now her equilibrium was unbalanced and she didn’t like the feeling.

“You didn’t frighten me.” It was said with more conviction
than she felt. “You’ve never touched me before. It surprised me.”

He poured another drink and consumed it in one swallow. She
watched him closely and thought she saw his hand tremble but assumed it was her
imagination working overtime.

“You’re skittish as a colt.”

“Why did you do it?” she asked again.

Hard-as-granite dark, blue eyes raked over her body before
finally condescending to meet her incensed gaze. “Don’t sweat it, Nicole. I
didn’t kiss you.”

Her hands clenched into fists. “That would be the last thing I would allow you to do.” Nicole released a nervous laugh. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you. We don’t even like each other.”

His cold gaze was unflinching.

When it came to business, Ashton had a habit of staring
people down in long brooding and strange silences. It was known to cause many
men to succumb to his bidding. But she wasn’t one of his acquisitions; she knew
not to retreat.

She could handle his self-absorbed arrogance and rudeness
but he was different tonight and she didn’t know what to expect next or how to
respond to it.

“We like each other,” he uttered with no emotion. “A lot more than you think.”

Did she just hear correctly? He must’ve had too much to drink at the party. And along with what he consumed, since they’d been at his house, it was impairing his judgment. All they had ever done when their paths crossed were to argue. Or was he making a joke? She looked at him. No, it wasn’t possible.

Ashton Sinclair never joked about anything. Was it something else? Was he flirting with her? She shook her head at the thought. Get a grip, girl. You’re talking about No Emotion Sinclair. He doesn’t flirt. To do so, he would need a heart, a smile and the ability to be nice. To be fair, he did have a heart—one made of steel. He just didn’t process the other attributes.

“I apologize for pushing you,” she said.

“It was bound to happen.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You’re a passionate woman, Nicole. All that energy had to
be released, why not on me?”

She shook head and uttered a brief laugh. “You’re one crazy
man.”

“Only about some things.”

Riddles again? Even as a child, she never cared for puzzles
and she had no plan on putting one together tonight.

“I need to get back to the party. My aunt will be wondering where
I am.”

“I doubt it. Brent probably told her you were with me.”

“He wouldn’t know that for sure.”

“Believe me. Brent knows I wouldn’t leave you alone.”

Nicole narrowed her eyes. “I don’t understand.”

“There’s nothing to understand…at least not right now. But
so you will be comfortable, call your aunt and let her know you’re with me.”

“My cellphone is in my purse. I left it in your car.”

“No, problem.” He pointed to the sofa stand. “There are
phones throughout the house. Help yourself. Since both of us didn’t eat
tonight, I’m going into the kitchen to fix something.”

“You cook?”

He ignored her question. “Take your time with the call.
When you’re ready walk down the corridor to your left, the kitchen is at the
far end of the house. You won’t miss it.” He walked out.

Nicole exhaled the pent-up air in her lungs and felt the
tension released in her shoulders.

She retrieved the cordless phone and dialed her aunt’s
cell.

When she entered the kitchen, he was spooning food onto
plates.

“You were right. Brent told my aunt that I was with you.”

He threw her a look over his shoulder and resumed plating
the food.

She shrugged and moved further into the kitchen.

Nicole looked around the room. The décor was another surprise. Soft color of beige and accents of pale yellow and soothing lavender were present. Stainless steel appliances were situated strategically in their places. The bright and airiness of the kitchen reminded of her a woman’s touch. Why would his house have that? Was it possible that Ashton was moving in one of his many girlfriends? The thought made her unsettled. Now she was being crazy. It was none of her business whom he dated or moved into his house.

“Can I help?” she said.

With a plate in each hand, he walked toward the oval kitchen
table and nodded to one of the four chairs surrounding it.

“Have a seat.”

Again, she bristled, at his tone, but sat down in one of the richly upholstered chairs. He set a plate of food in front of her and the other at his setting. A bottle of red wine was already on the table. He sat and then poured the liquid into the glasses.

Ashton picked up his glass and clink it to hers.

“What are we toasting?”

“Life. You. Happy Birthday, Nicole.”

She frowned. “It’s not until a few weeks from now.”

Silence hung between them. Again his blue eyes held her
captive. “I know, June twenty-fifth,” he said so softly. “You’ll be twenty-four,
right?”

She nodded.

“You’re well past the age of legal.”

Feeling more uncomfortable with his strange behavior, she
took a sip wine trying to quell the butterflies in her stomach. She tried to
think of something to say.

“The wine is good. At eighteen, my aunt started letting me
have a small glass of chardonnay with dinner.”

While she rattled on, he’d leaned back in his chair. When
she was nervous or excited she could talk nonstop. Brent would always laugh and
tell her to slow down so he could catch up. She pushed the memory away and
speared the fork into the food. Ashton had prepared a mushroom and spinach
omelet with Gouda cheese topped with fresh chopped cherry tomatoes. She chewed
slowly, savoring the sweetness of the mushrooms and the delicacy of the
spinach.

“Your cooking skills have surprised me. There’s a taste a
hint of cilantro, correct?”

“Yes. You cook?”

“Somewhat. But, I’m impressed that you do,” she said between bites.

“Don’t be. There are a lot of things you don’t know about me…yet,” he responded.

She tipped her glass, emptying the contents.

“You need to pace yourself.”

“I’m not trying to get drunk.”

“It never crossed my mind,” he said, dryly.

She set the glass down. “Getting drunk won’t erase the fact
that Brent is married. But I’m a strong woman. I’ll cope.”

“I have no doubt you will.” He dug into his food, and nodded
at her plate. “Go ahead and finish eating.”

She took another bite of the omelet. “Hmm…this is good.”

He remained silent with a sullen look. She shrugged. He was always frowning or glaring at something or someone. The man had issues. He was sure one unhappy and strange person.

Finally, she noticed he wasn’t eating but looking at her.

“You’re staring. That’s rude.”

A small smile hinted at his lips. Maybe he was human after
all.

“Being called rude is nothing new to me.”

“Brent said—”

He grunted with disgust. “Brent knows nothing about me.”

“He’s your brother. Of course, he knows you.”

“I’m older than Brent. So that makes me an authority on what
he knows and what he doesn’t”

“Rude and arrogant. Wow, what a combination,” she said
cheekily.

“I don’t deny it,” he retorted with dismissal. “Do you know
how old I am, Nicole?”