Tethered (45 page)

“Don’t let me go,” I whimpered breathlessly, wrapping my limbs around him. “Please don’t let me go.”

Emmet continued to hold me and gently kiss my moist face as he made a solemn promise to me.

“I’ll never let you go,” he said.

And I believed him.

*~*~*

Of course Felix couldn’t just have a normal guest bathroom with a toilet, shower and tub. The on-suite bathroom in my room had a large oval shaped, glass enclosed shower stall. There were shower heads from above and shower heads built into the wall so that you were sprayed from all directions. The tub wasn’t just a tub, but the size of a small pool with a Jacuzzi setting. Even the toilet was elaborate.

I sat in the tub with my knees drawn up to my chest and my arms wrapped around my legs. I rested my cheek on my knees as Emmet sat beside me gently running a sudsy pouf over my body. I was exhausted and sore by the time he pulled out of my body, but I felt a shower or bath was necessary. While I lay in bed staring out at the Eiffel Tower, Emmet had gone into the bathroom and drawn a bath for us.

“How did you get in here?” I asked him sleepily.

“I called Felix and told him I screwed up and he made things happen for me,” he said. He sounded just as tired as I felt.

“You and Felix are mighty cozy,” I teased softly.

Emmet smiled and gave a nonchalant shrug. “He’s not so bad.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Not so bad? You hung out with him all weekend last month. You guys are like, dare I say it, friends now.”

He flicked his fingers at me, sending drops of waters and suds flying onto my face.

“Don’t push it,” he said.

Under ordinary circumstances, I would have laughed and continued to tease him about Felix, but despite our intense love making, there was still some tension between us. We still had some unresolved issues.

“If I had known about the trip to Mexico, I would have never accepted the campaign with Alberi,” I said. We had been quiet for a few minutes, each of us lost in our own thoughts.

“Whether you knew or not doesn’t change the fact that you made a promise to me,” Emmet quickly responded with a soft, but hostile tone that made me cringe.

I hugged my legs closer to my body and turned my head away before again resting my cheek on my knees. I heard Emmet’s soft expulsion of air. The water lapped gently at the sides of the tub as he moved closer to me.

“Donya,” he said my name softly. “Baby, look at me.”

Reluctantly, I turned my head back to look at him. The features in his face that had been hard a moment before had softened. His fingers stroked down the ponytail hanging down my back and his other hand rested on my thigh.

“I didn’t fly over thirty-five hundred miles to fight with you and make you feel bad,” he said. “I came here to be with you. I don’t care if I only get a half hour with you a day while I’m here, it’s better than nothing. I’ll take what I can get.”

“I’m really sorry,” I whispered.

“I know you are,” he said solemnly.

“What are we going to do, Emmet?” I asked weakly.

“Don’t worry about it right now, baby. We’ll work it out. I promise.”

He kissed me. It was very brief, but it warmed me in the cool water.

Chapter Thirty-Five

I loved mornings with Emmet. I loved watching him stretch and scratch at his chest and sometimes his beard if he had one growing in. His hair was messy, his t-shirt had ridden up to just below his belly button and his lounge pants hung low on his hips revealing the top of that contoured V shaped part of his pelvis that I wanted to lick. I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth when he shuffled in, yawning, scratching, and looking hot.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he said and kissed my temple.

“Hello,” I smiled. I watched his ass as he walked away towards the toilet, but turned away when he started to pee.

I finished brushing my teeth and filled a cup with water so I could take my vitamins and birth control pill. Emmet washed his hands and found a new toothbrush in a drawer on his side of the double sink vanity. He brushed his teeth while I took my pills and began to brush my hair.

“I can get used to this,” I said as I pulled the brush through my hair.

“Get used to what, baby?”

“
This
,” I said, gesturing between us. “Us, moving about in the mornings together and getting ready to face the day. What makes it even more alluring is that we’re in one of the most romantic cities in the world.”

Emmet moved behind me, wrapped his arms around my waist and looked at our reflections in the mirror.

“It doesn’t matter what city it is,” he said in my ear. “As long as we’re together, it will be the most romantic place in the world.”

I turned my head and met his lips. The kiss was minty and warm and made me happy.

“Yeah, I can definitely get used to this,” I said as Emmet released me.

He grinned at me and said “Anytime and anyplace you want to get official with me, beautiful, I’m there. Now get a move on before you’re late.” He smacked my ass, making me yelp and left the bathroom chuckling.

The week had started out rocky, but it turned out better than expected. I finished shooting for the campaign the day after Emmet arrived. Though I received phone calls for other work, I turned it all down so that I could be with Emmet like I was supposed to in the first place.

We fell into a comfortable routine during our days together. Whenever we would finally make it out of bed, whether groggy from sleep or electrified from sex, we would take a shower together. We’d floss and brush our teeth while music played from the bedroom. I’d wash my face while he shaved, and while I moisturized my skin and brushed my hair, Emmet would go into the kitchen and make coffee for himself, tea for me, and breakfast for us. I’d join him at the breakfast table that had an incredible view of the tower and the city and we would attempt to read the newspaper that was delivered to the door every morning. I had a better understanding of the French language than Emmet did, but it was always a fun time to try to pronounce and decipher the articles.

After breakfast, we would hit the streets of Paris for sightseeing or shopping and then we had lunch at a different café each day. We always returned back to the penthouse by early evening. Sometimes we’d grab food on the way home or sometimes we’d eat out, but my favorite times were when we cooked together in the top of the line kitchen. Emmet did most of the cooking though. I wasn’t much of a cook, but Emmet showed off with his slicing and dicing, sautéing and flipping. He plated the food like a five star chef and placed it in front of me with a loud, obnoxious “voila!” And we talked, all day. I asked Emmet question after question to prove that the life he lived in Cambridge was important to me.

The photographer Helene that had been so kind to me joined us for lunch one day. We had exchanged numbers on the last day of working together. She brought her husband Marcus with her. The pair bickered back and forth over trivial things. They would start to argue in English but they effortlessly continued to argue in French and Marcus’s native Italian. Emmet and I looked at each other in amusement before turning back to our new friends to try to get them back on topic, but it was clear they loved each other. In the middle of an argument, Marcus would kiss her all over her face and they never stopped touching one another.

“Your fiancé is brilliant,” Helene said to Emmet towards the end of our meal.

I looked at her with amusement and confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“I know she is, but why do you think so?” Emmet asked after glancing at me with a soft smile.

“I do not know what happened between you two – it’s none of my business,” she said, waving her hand. “But Donya was devastated. It was written all over her face. It was in her body language. She looked stiff and lifeless, but…” She shook a finger at me and smiled. “Once she stepped in front of the camera, she transformed. It was like that hurting girl had gone away. She became who she needed to become and there are very few girls in this business that can do that effectively. I usually have to yell at them all day to take their heads out of their asses.”

Emmet looked at me with adoration. It made me feel embarrassed, though I don’t know why.

“She
is
incredible,” he murmured.

“She is,” Helene nodded and looked at me. “The sky is the limit for you, Donya. If you want something, you will be able to take it.” She made a snatching motion with her hand.

Emmet looked at Helene with a thoughtful expression. The conversation changed after a moment, but Emmet had grown quiet. I don’t think Helene and Marcus noticed, because he still participated in conversation, but I knew he was preoccupied. Later as we walked back home, Emmet was still clearly lost in his own thoughts. I chatted on anyway, carrying the weight of the conversation until we were inside the penthouse, coats closeted and shoes kicked off.

“What’s on your mind?” I asked him as we settled on the couch.

He looked at me quietly and thoughtfully for a moment before speaking.

“Do you really love what you’re doing?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered without hesitation. “It’s hard work, and sometimes I’m treated like shit,” I admitted. “But…I really do love it. I love the clothes, the hair, the makeup, and becoming someone else in front of the camera. I love the chaos before and during a shoot and the satisfactory feeling I have afterward.”

I pulled my legs up onto the couch and rested my head on Emmet’s shoulder.

“Emmy and I used to look at Vogue, Cosmo and Vanity Fair for hours at a time when we were younger. I didn’t necessarily want to be a model then, but I envied them sometimes. They got to wear incredible clothes, shoes, and jewelry created by some of the most talented minds in the world. I loved their poses and the expressions on their faces. When I realized that I could be like those models, I really wanted it. When I realized that I was good at it, I wanted it even more. I didn’t understand what it meant to have a passion for a hobby or an occupation until I got to New York and got my first real modeling gig.”

I looked up at him with narrowed eyes. He looked back at me questioningly.

“For the record, I do love the final result of a shoot, but I actually get embarrassed when I see myself in a magazine or in a commercial. I damn near had a heart attack when I saw that billboard advertisement for those jeans. If you noticed, I get uncomfortable when people approach me as if I was someone important or famous.”

Emmet smiled, but he sounded sincere when he apologized for his comment about me being conceited. “I know you’re not like that,” he said gently and put his arm around me.

“Why did you ask me if I loved what I do?” I asked him.

He ran a hand over his jaw and sighed. “I knew you were good at what you did, but Helene has been in the business for a long time, right? It takes things to another level when someone like her says that you’re good.”

“I believe she said brilliant,” I said with a smirk.

Emmet grinned and poked me in the side, making me giggle. “Oh, no, you’re not conceited or anything,” he teased.

“Just stating the facts.”

“Okay, so she said you’re
brilliant
,” Emmet said, but then his face grew serious. I sat up straight and looked at him, waiting for him to spit out whatever it was he had to say. “Donya, I don’t want to hold you back – ever. I tried to hold you back when we were arguing in my apartment. I told you that I wanted you to quit because you wanted to, not because I wanted you to, but I really did want you to want to quit. I tried to make you feel that quitting was your only option and I feel like such an asshole for that.”

“It’s okay,” I said, touching his face. “I understand, I do. You missed me and I
have
been inconsiderate over the past several months.”

Emmet captured my fingers in his hand and looked at me with a troubled expression.

“Donya, I don’t want to hold you back,” he said again. “I want you to go as far as you can go with this, and I know that there will have to be some sacrifices made, but I’m unwilling to sacrifice any more unnecessary time away from you. As soon as the semester is over, I’m going to join you in whatever corner of the world you’re in.”

I stared at him stupidly for a moment. “What…what do you mean? You’re going to skip the internship and travel with me for the summer?”

“That and more,” he said, watching me for a reaction.

“I don’t think that’s wise,” I said. “But what ‘more’ are you talking about?”

I had an uncomfortable pressure building in my chest. I didn’t want Emmet to skip the internship at the law office. He was lucky to have the position in the first place and he was learning a wealth of information that would aid him when taking the bar and his subsequent career.

“I’m going to take a year or two off from school,” he said quietly.

I felt my eyes widen and my mouth fall open. I shook my head slowly, indicating that I didn’t think that this was a good idea at all, and it wasn’t. Emmet had one more semester to go before he got his bachelor’s degree and then he had at least three years of law school ahead after that. The years were going to be long enough without putting one or two empty ones before them.

“Why?” I choked out. “Why would you want to do that?”

Emmet turned his body towards mine and cradled my face in his hands.

“Donya, I don’t want to live without you anymore. I can’t stand being away from you. I want to be able to kiss you every morning, every night, and as much as I damn can in between. I can’t go through another year like this, and if what Helene said is any indication of what’s to come, it will only be worse – or better for you – worse for us as a couple.”

I held onto his wrists and carefully pulled his hands away from my face.

“Emmet, you only have one year left of college,” I made a sound of exasperation. “And that internship is important. You were incredibly lucky to get it in the first place.”

He frowned and sat back away from me. “That wasn’t the response I expected.”

“I know and I’m sorry, but I don’t really think you thought this through.”