Salvation (45 page)

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Authors: Stephanie John

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Salvation
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I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my cheek to his chest. His heart pounded frantically. His shower gel still lingered on me, and mine on his skin. The two scents, woody and almond merged together, giving me an inevitable sense of calm and assurance. “What happened in New York?” I asked, quiet and wary.

The fortitude I got from his arms as they enveloped me lasted a few shorts seconds until he reluctantly admitted, “I met an old girlfriend.”

I shoved away. “You
cheated
on me?” I couldn’t believe it was happening again. All the lies and deceit polluting my life, infesting my mind and poisoning my heart.

“Jesus no!”
He urged me back into his embrace, his grip so tight I couldn’t move. “I’d never hurt you like that. Forget it. I don’t want you going crazy over someone that isn’t worth the effort.”


I
decide what is or isn’t worth it. Not you!” I pressed my forearms to his chest, battling to resist him. My fighting only made him hold harder until I could barely breathe. I gave up. “You don’t have the right to say what’s best for me,” I muttered in defeat.

“The hell I don’t,” he snapped. “My job is to take care of you. Cherish you and keep you safe.” He relaxed his grip but still held me in his arms. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make that possible.”

Tears welled in my eyes. One escaped when I blinked, and rolled over my cheek.

Nate swiped it away with his thumb. “Don’t.” He pressed his lips to mine in the sweetest, most impassioned embrace. I always got the truth in his kiss. The fact he could convey such strong emotions that way blew my mind.

“I’ll talk,” he finally murmured into my hair. He moved away and leant back on the counter, his head bowed, fingers tapping restlessly on the lip of the quartz surface as he composed himself. “A couple years ago, I got screwed over. Completely humiliated. Everyone important to me, some business associates too, they all knew about it. She almost ruined my business.” I watched him scrub over his face with both hands as he relived his shame. “I thought I knew Ash, believed I could trust her, but she…” He shook his head, his voice muffled by his hands. “I didn’t see it coming because I let my own guilt cloud my judgement.”

I frowned. “Guilt over what?”

Avoiding eye contact, Nate went over to the wall of windows. Both hands came up for support as he leant into them and dropped his head. He cut a lonely figure standing there in the shadows, burdened with the jagged edge of painful memories. “I’m the reason for her twisted behaviour all those years ago.”

His shoulders lifted with a small, resigned shrug. “After that, I decided all women were the same, they all had ulterior motives. I built an emotional wall so fucking big no-one could get in, then I used them before they used me.”

“Not anymore though, right?” The idea we were over, that he’d used me, or worse, been unfaithful because it was ingrained deep in his core that emotionless sex was all he was capable of made me nauseous.

Nate glanced back over his shoulder. “Not anymore,” he assured gently, shaking his head. “I could’ve used drink or drugs—which would’ve been quite ironic—to make me forget. Instead, I chose the worst vice of all—
women
.”

I stroked my throat, trying to push the bile back down. Nate wasn’t a saint, I knew that, but the unanswered question over precisely how many women he’d slept with crept into my mind again. I could count my sexual partners on one hand. The way Nate was talking made me think he’d need both hands and feet and still wouldn’t have enough digits.

“Hey,” he murmured, approaching cautiously. “It isn’t as sordid as it sounds. A select few women who shared a mutual need for pleasure without commitment, that’s all.” He circled me and went to the refrigerator. When he offered me a bottle of water, I shook my head, waiting uneasily for him to continue.

“My whole outlook shifted the second I met you.” He unscrewed the lid and took a swig. “I wanted more than that emotional distance from you. When we made love the first time in your bed, the way you looked at me…” He shook his head slowly. “You scaled that wall, then you took a sledgehammer to it and sent the whole fucking thing crashing down in one go.”

The surge of love I had for Nate was so strong I was light-headed. His finger stroked my jaw affectionately. He looked exactly how I felt. Clueless to how this had all happened between us, but so very grateful it had.

“I’m obsessed with you,” he went on. “Everywhere I look, I see you. Everything I do, I think of you. You’re constantly on my mind no matter where I am. But you can’t, or
won’t
let me in, and I’m going crazy trying to figure you out.” His hand fell from my face. “If you keep cutting me off emotionally, pushing me away, it’s gonna break us. And I can’t let that happen. I’m in too deep.”

Stunned by his impassioned honesty, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around his neck. I had to give something back. “I haven’t been on a single date in over a year,” I started quietly. “You’re the only man I’ve considered having a relationship with in that time, and I’m scared shitless by the speed and intensity it’s all happening with. I lack confidence, have serious self-esteem issues, and a massive hang-up on trust.” I took a deep breath. I was trembling like a leaf.

Nate stared at me with wide, compassionate eyes. “You’re the complete opposite of me,” I continued shakily. “Your self-assurance and contentment are two of the most attractive qualities about you. Being pursued by you, and the almost arrogant way you did it, was and still is, a massive turn-on. So, for someone normally so open with me, when you refuse to talk, it makes me suspicious.”

His brows drew in momentarily, then, “She wants me back and—”

“What?”
I shoved him so hard he lost his footing and fell back against the counter. “Why on
earth
would you assume I didn’t need to know this?”

“You don’t.” Nate lunged for me but I was faster this time. I dodged his hand and darted to the other side of the kitchen island. Everything I’d fought against had come to fruition. I was in love and I was going to get hurt.

“Nothing happened,” he said sternly, his hands visibly shaking as they raked through his hair. “I don’t want her.”

“Explain why you’re so shaken if the meeting was innocent. I’m trying desperately not to jump to conclusions, but you’re making it difficult not to by refusing to tell me the whole story.”

Nate clasped his nape with both hands. “It brought back memories. Memories I’ve tried forgetting. I recalled how gullible I was, how trusting I’d been, how guilty I
still
…” The words trapped in his throat as his voice trailed off.

My heart ached for the shattered soul standing in front of me. The harrowing recollection of my own trust issues flooded back. Hearing he’d been screwed over perversely gave me hope he wouldn’t do the same to me. He’d suffered, too. He knew how bad it was to have the one person you’d given your heart to, break it into a thousand pieces and not care.

I had to respect him not wanting to go into details. God knows I hated to. I was left depressed for days if I dredged all that crap up and dwelled on the what ifs. There was no chance of running into ex-boyfriends when I lived in a different country. Nate wasn’t as lucky. He had a past, one I had to accept if we were going to move forward from this.

“Talk to me!” Nate’s yell snapped me out of my thoughts. “Tell me what you’re thinking!” He slammed the bottle down on the counter.

“This isn’t about me!” I cried, astounded he’d deflected it back on me. “I wanted
you
to talk.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” he seethed, ridding his hand of spilt water and cursing at the spillage on the counter. “You have no idea.”

“No, I don’t!” The thud of my heart grew louder in my ears.

His eyes were large as they fixed on me. “Kara, I’m—” He didn’t finish. Just shook his head and sighed as he picked up the bottle. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured soberly. “I’m going to work in my office. I need to clear my head.”

“That’s it?” I bit out. “You’re going to walk away after that self-depreciating comment?”

He studied me. A shield had formed across his face, his eyes cool and lifeless, concealing all emotion. “Go to bed. I’ll join you later.”

A chill chased down my spine. He’d given up. He brushed past me, heading to the doorway.

“How about I go home instead?” I said to his retreating back.

Nate stilled. But he didn’t look back. “You’re already there,” he said softly. Then, without another word, he disappeared.

I stood for a minute, dazed and confused. He was pushing me away in one breath, then complaining I won’t let him close in another. What was that about?

I trudged upstairs to pack my clothes. All hope had gone as I filled the overnight bag. I left the dress Nate had gifted me. Tomorrow, he could face his parents alone and explain why I wasn’t with him.

Only when I reached the bathroom and saw all my toiletries did I understand walking away wasn’t the answer. This broken man cared about me and had gone out of his way to make me comfortable so I would open up to him.

It was nearing midnight by the time I’d unpacked, and Nate hadn’t made an appearance. I collapsed into bed, mentally and physically exhausted. Laying on my side, I stared numbly out the windows. The only sound was the climate-controlled air conditioning whirring quietly in the background.

I’d never been so alone and a million miles from home. This was our first fight, and I hated going to bed with unresolved tension between us. Hot, irritable and restless, I yanked the chemise over my head and tossed it to the ottoman bench.

Since Nate’s return from New York, we’d taken two steps forward then moved three back. He didn’t strike me as the moody type, too even-tempered and calm to get riled easily.

Unless it was me. It seemed I could provoke a reaction without even trying.

Deciding I wouldn’t sleep until we’d made up, I shrugged on the chemise again and padded downstairs to his office. Nate sat at his desk, illuminated by the angled desk lamp to his right and the glow from the computer on his left. He glanced up briefly, his troubled eyes scanning me as I stood in the doorway. “I’m still here,” I said quietly, nervously twisting the lacy hem between my fingers.

“So it would seem,” he said soberly. He took his focus from the papers clenched in his hand when I moved closer. I wished I could banish the grief tarnishing his captivating face. He watched me warily as I rounded his desk and spun his chair to face me.

I stepped between his parted legs and cupped his face. “I’m sorry for pushing you.”

Nate’s eyes filled with warmth. His gentle hands were like an electric shock to my flesh when they curved my bare thighs. “I’m the one who should apologise,” he murmured, pressing his cheek to my belly. “I’m taking my grievances out on the wrong person.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I cradled his head, playing with the hair around his ear.

“It
does
matter.” He shoved to his feet and stroked my upper arms with gentle, reassuring hands. “Being apart affected me more than I thought possible. I knew I’d miss you, but exactly how much completely floored me. I’m struggling to adjust to all this.”

“We both have issues, Nate. Let’s resolve them together.”

His brow knitted. “When the time is right I’ll explain everything. Promise you won’t draw your own conclusions without hearing me out first?”

“Okay,” I whispered hesitantly. It was a big ask, but not unreasonable. The way I saw it, it was another step closer to learning to trust again. It wouldn’t be easy, but I was willing to try.

“Let’s go to bed.” Nate smiled softly and twirled my hair in his fingers. “Think we could both do with the rest.”

As we climbed the stairs together, I put all crazy assumptions, wild guesses and wrongdoings to the back of my mind, making a conscious decision to live in the present and not the past.

 

THREE hours later, I woke weighted with uncertainties. Nate was sound asleep beside me with an arm draped possessively across my chest, his back gently rising and falling with each steady breath.

What was so tragic he still carried the burden of guilt with him to this day? It must’ve been bad to make his ex-girlfriend seek revenge years later. And now she was back, under what circumstances I wasn’t sure. I had to decide how much I was prepared to fight for Nate, but without knowing the full story, it was difficult to plan my approach. Would I be strong enough to win? Was
I
enough?

Fed up with asking questions I couldn’t answer, I shifted onto my side and faced the window. Nate stirred, his arm moving to my waist as he curled into my back. My body stirred to the nearness of his naked flesh. We hadn’t made love when we came to bed. All I needed then was to feel his arms around me, hold him in mine, and enjoy the tender kisses that reaffirmed we were both where we should be. Now, I was drawn to him, craving his touch in other ways.

Nate fidgeted again. I carefully peeled him off me and crawled out of bed. He needed to sleep, get some perspective on events of the past week, not have me disturbing him because I was horny.

Dressed in his t-shirt, I took my phone and wandered downstairs. After getting some water from the kitchen, I stretched out on the comfortable sofa in the lounge. Half an hour of yoga meditation later, and I’d barely touched the surface of my agitation. I meandered around the condo, stumbling upon undiscovered rooms of the sprawling penthouse.

I ended up in Nate’s office. The angled desk lamp was the only light in the room. Without disturbing the papers littering his desk, I sat in the leather swivel chair and rolled it in. Something I hadn’t noticed earlier now seemed glaringly obvious.

Directly in front of me, impossible to ignore, was a framed black and white photograph. I lifted it with trembling hands and brought it closer. With an elongated stretch of my body, head tipped back so my wavy beach hair touched the towel beneath me, my eyes were shut and lips parted. It looked photoshopped, but it wasn’t. It was all natural—and it was all me.

God.
He’d said he wanted me with him when he took the intimate, candid picture last weekend. Here I was, in an image practically sizzling from the frame. It was incredibly sexy, a woman captured in a moment unawares by the photographer. It was like seeing myself through Nate’s eyes. He saw this, not a girl filled with inadequacies and imperfections.

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