The Bachelor's Promise (Bachelor Auction) (20 page)

“I know that, Noelle,” he growled, stepping toward her.

“Do you?” she challenged, even as she placed more space between them. Being near him… If he touched her…she wouldn’t be able to say what needed to be aired; she wouldn’t be strong enough to tell him no. “I’m not so sure, but whose blood I share isn’t your real issue. If you’re completely honest with yourself, my father and brother aren’t your real issue either.” She inhaled, her heart pounding against her rib cage. “Your mother and Peyton are.”

He went rigid, his green eyes glinting like jade shards. Anger and shock darkened his features, slamming his eyebrows down in a vee and tautening the skin across his cheekbones.

“Leave it alone, Noelle.”

“That’s the problem. You leave it alone, Aiden. For too long. Dad and Tony, they weren’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination. But the two most important women in your life—they failed you. They hurt you. They left you. Both chose other men over you. And you won’t let that happen again. You loved them, and they let you down, and you refuse to open your heart to another woman and risk being hurt like that again. Even when love stares you right in the face, you can’t see it because you don’t trust it.”

Her words echoed between them, ricocheting off the walls of the foyer and seeming to grow louder with each pass.

“Do you know why I was a virgin, Aiden?” She didn’t wait for him to reply. Not that he probably would. The fury and pain—
God, the pain
—in his eyes almost convinced her to shut up. Almost. Like a festering wound that couldn’t heal unless lanced, this needed to be said. “Partly out of fear. The worst fate I could imagine for myself was allowing myself to become so emotionally invested and dependent on a man that I would lose myself, voluntarily give up my dreams and hopes for a four-letter word that most people really didn’t know the meaning of. But the most important reason? The one I didn’t want to admit to myself? None of the men were you,” she whispered. “None caused my heart to trip and fall before pounding so hard I couldn’t hear myself think. None of them could light up my day with just a glimpse of him. None could make me dream of being more, being better, and striving for it. None of them were you.”

“Noelle,” he murmured, the ice in his eyes gone, replaced by a sadness that hurt more than the anger, the bitterness.

She held up a hand. “No. I’m not telling you I love you to force something from you that you don’t feel. Something you don’t have to give me. This is about me—for me. I love you, Aiden Kent. I have since I was a little girl when you reminded me of princes in my ratty fairy-tale book, and later, when I realized the pain of loving someone who could never love me back. I didn’t stop, though I convinced myself I had. Still, I won’t be your whipping post for your guilt. Earlier today I thought maybe, just maybe… But after what just happened, I have to admit there’s too much animosity and pain that you can’t let go of. Won’t let go of.” She drew in a deep breath, straightening her shoulders and dropping her arms to her sides. “My apartment will be ready Thursday. I’m going to stay with Chancey for the next couple of days until I can move back.”

“Noelle,” Aiden repeated. She closed her eyes as his big palm cupped her face, not able to meet the sorrow and damn resolution that would wreck her.
Fight
, a voice inside her head shrieked at him.
Fight, damn it
. But for what? There was no “them.” He’d never made any promises, never offered hope about a happily ever after. Just an expiration date. “I’m sorry. I wish…”

She jerked her head away, moved away from the temptation of his touch. “Maybe you are sorry. Maybe not. Maybe you prefer the safety of not risking being hurt again, of living a half life. You’re a coward, Aiden. At least I’m willing to take that leap, even if it hurts like hell. Even if I’m alone.”

Pivoting, she climbed the stairs to pack. To leave this place and the man who owned her heart behind.

Chapter Seventeen

“Maybe you prefer the safety of not risking being hurt again, of living a half life. You’re a coward, Aiden. At least I’m willing to take that leap, even if it hurts like hell. Even if I’m alone
.
”

Noelle’s parting words from nine days earlier reverberated in Aiden’s head like a persistent ghost. And like he’d done every time her accusation haunted him, he dived deeper and harder into work. Only the myriad of contracts, meetings, and clients seemed capable of drowning out the memories of the last month since she’d reentered his life. Memories of their last conversation.

“The two most important women in your life—they failed you.”

“You refuse to open your heart to another woman and risk being hurt like that again.”

“I love you, Aiden Kent
.”

“Damn it,” he muttered, enlarging the P&L statement of the company they were considering acquiring on his computer screen, as if it could block out the barrage of words bouncing off his skull like bullets. He forced himself to focus on the column of numbers and drove himself to forget everything but the work. Because then he didn’t have to think about her. Didn’t have to dwell on how empty and lonely his home had become, when before it’d been his sanctuary. Didn’t have to brood over how he found every excuse in the goddamn book to remain at work and not return to the penthouse that echoed with her.

Didn’t have to face the mirror she’d held up to him that evening. Didn’t have to admit that… No. Just fucking
no
.

“In case you have forgotten, this place is zoned for commercial property, not residential,” Lucas drawled, striding into Aiden’s office without knocking. “So, as the old saying goes, you don’t have to go home, but you got to get the hell out of here.”

“I don’t think that’s a saying as much as a way of kicking people out of a bar,” Aiden muttered, dropping back into his office chair.

“Okay,” Lucas conceded with a shrug, lowering into the visitor’s chair in front of Aiden’s desk. “How about this one? ‘Unforgiveness is like drinking a poison and hoping the other person dies.’ Does that sound familiar?”

Since Aiden had been the one to give that unsolicited piece of advice to Lucas a year ago, when his friend had embarked on his plan of revenge against Sydney, he should recognize it.

“I can tell from your stellar comeback that it does.” Lucas smirked.

“Here’s one for you,” Aiden snapped. “And since you have a baby girl on the way, I think you should become acquainted with it. As Elsa would say, ‘Let it go.’”

A smile softened Lucas’s austere features. “A girl. Can you believe it?”

“I’m happy for you,” Aiden said, and meant it. “No one deserves happiness more than you two.”

“Oh, there’re a couple more people,” Lucas disagreed. “You. And Noelle.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Aiden growled, clenching the pen in his fingers so tightly, he wouldn’t have been surprised if ink splattered his desk.

“And I don’t give a damn,” Lucas snapped in return. His dark frown emphasized the scar bisecting his eyebrow and marring the skin over and under his eye. The scowl would’ve sent most people running for cover. But Aiden wasn’t most people. “It’s been over a week. I figured you would get your head out of your ass and come to your senses in about three days since you were always the more reasonable of the two of us. But obviously I was wrong. You’re apparently stubborn as well as stupid.”

“Your pep-talk skills leave much to be desired,” Aiden bit out.

“If you want a pep talk join a goddamn football team. I’m your friend, and I’ll always give you the truth. Even when you don’t want to hear it.” Lucas leaned forward, his gaze pinning Aiden to his chair. “And the truth is you’re fucking up.”

Aiden surged to his feet and stalked to the window. He stared out, not seeing the view that so often brought him joy and satisfaction. Because none of it—the success, the money, the reputation—mattered a damn. Not anymore.

“She said I was mad at Mom and Peyton. That Frank and Tony were scapegoats to cover my guilt for blaming Mom and Peyton for hurting me.”

The shuffle of a chair being slid across the floor announced Lucas rising from his seat. He saw his friend sit on the edge of the desk in the window’s reflection. Silence filled the office, broken a few moments later by Lucas’s sigh.

“She was always an observant little thing,” he murmured. “So small and quiet you almost forgot she was in the room.”

“I never forgot,” Aiden added, accepting it as truth before the words rolled off his tongue. He’d always been aware of Noelle. “Do you think she’s right?”

“It’s not what I think, but what you know and are afraid to admit.”

Was he afraid?
Yes
. The answer almost knocked him on his ass. God, yes. He shook inside. Guilt and shame over being an ungrateful son and a weak, distant partner slammed into him like unrelenting waves against a shore.

“Peyton cheated on me with Tony. And I never told you, but the baby was his,” Aiden confessed, his gaze focused on the window. “If not for me catching her and Tony and ending the engagement, I don’t know if she would’ve gone on letting me think another man’s baby was mine.”

“Shit,” Lucas hissed softly. “God, Aiden. I’m sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Humiliation? Not wanting to place one more black mark on her name? Or inflict more pain on her parents? Even though they all conspired to lie to me about Peyton’s mental health.” He huffed out a humorless chuckle. “I hated that she betrayed me. Lied to me. But I hated most of all that she didn’t trust me to love her. Didn’t have enough faith in me to believe that her bipolar disorder didn’t define her. She tried so hard to be someone she thought I wanted that she went off her meds. For me. I didn’t want that for her. For us. It seems wrong, being furious with her for an illness she couldn’t help. But why didn’t she love me enough to trust me instead of believing I would reject her? She stole that choice from me. And I’ve been so damn mad at her for that, but it was easier to focus on Tony. But it wasn’t Tony I was in the relationship with. And then there’s Mom.”

Lucas didn’t speak, and for that, Aiden was grateful. Because if his friend had offered any platitude, interrupted with one word, Aiden might not have been able to get this out.

“For so long she worked hard, brutal hours to provide for me. To keep a roof over my head. We were poor, but I never went to bed hungry, never went without. Never felt unloved. Until Frank. The confident, independent, strong woman I knew my entire life disappeared. It was easier to blame Frank for using her, for sucking her dry of her vitality and joy. But deep down, I blamed her. I resented her for staying with him. I built her a new home—something I’d always dreamed about as a boy. But she wouldn’t take it because I wouldn’t allow Frank to move in as well. She chose him over her own health and happiness; she chose him over…me. And believe me, I know how fucking petty that sounds.” He shook his head, loosing a harsh crack of laughter. “But she hurt me. Peyton hurt me. And Noelle was right. I’ve been so busy being angry and protecting myself from any real emotion because of the past that I pushed her away. Even though I…”

Love her
.

He swallowed, pressed his forehead to the glass. He loved her. And he’d let her walk out of his life.

“
Fuck
.”

“Yeah,” Lucas murmured. “Been there.”

Aiden closed his eyes.
I love her
. The three words were on repeat in his head. He did. So much he hurt with it. But was he ready to take that leap? He’d finally cracked open his heart and confessed to the secret shame he’d been hiding from himself. Could he let go of the past? Could he forgive?

“I don’t know,” Lucas said, rising from the desk. “Is she worth it?”

Shit, he hadn’t realized he’d voiced the questions throbbing against his temples like snare drums. Was she worth it?

“Hell yes.”

…

“Tonight is going to be a hit,” Lo crowed, clapping her hands in delight. Her huge afro seemed to shiver in excitement as she surveyed the organized chaos of the gallery.

Noelle grinned as the gallery owner swept across the room to speak to one of the artists. Anticipation skipped through Noelle. This was her first “First Friday” with King Gallery. And her first show, period, outside of art school. Yes, she was sharing it with nine other artists, but she didn’t care. It was a milestone in her career.

She turned to the floating white wall with its full canvas that Lo had assigned her, studying it and envisioning the completed piece. Including the model who had yet to arrive. Glancing at the clock on the far wall, she sighed. Twelve o’clock. Since she was new to Boston, Lo had arranged a model for her, but the girl had yet to make an appearance. The show started at five, and Noelle needed every second of those five hours to have her model finished and ready by then.

Picking up her drawing pad, she flipped to the piece she’d decided on. The Serengeti at sunset. She traced the outline of the model. And remembered when she’d shared it with Aiden. She sucked in a low breath at the thought of him, the thrust of pain sharp before ebbing into a steady, pulsing ache. Placing her palm over her heart, she rubbed the tender spot. As if she could wipe away the hurt that had dogged her like a hungry stray for the last ten days.

Funny how her biggest fear about falling in love had been losing herself like Caroline had, about handing over her independence. But now… She closed her eyes. Loving Aiden didn’t mean losing who she was but discovering what she was capable of—standing on her own, loving herself, demanding the best for herself. And she deserved Aiden’s love and trust, and if he couldn’t give them to her, then she was strong enough to walk on her own.

Sighing, she set the tubes of paint, her brushes, and other supplies on the small table next to her. Thirty minutes later, she stepped back, having finished mixing her paints and setting out the precise brushes and pens she needed. Now, that just left the model. If she ever decided to arrive…

“Sweetie, I have good news and bad news,” Lo announced, gliding up to Noelle, her long, beige dress swinging around her legs. “I don’t want you to panic, but your model can’t make it. Something unavoidable came up.”

Oh damn
. Her heart dropped. And though she tried not to let her alarm seep into her expression, she must not have succeeded because Lo clasped her hands and shook her head. “Now I told you not to panic. I’ve already arranged for another one to replace yours.”

“God, Lo, can you lead with that next time?” Noelle laughed, relief streaming through her.

“You know I wouldn’t let you down. I…” A huge, delighted grin illuminated her lovely face. “Ah. There he is now.”

The “he” barely registered just as the chime above the entrance rang.
Please let that be the mysterious he…

Shock. Pain. Grief. And so much love barreled through her it stole her breath. Her next thought:

Aiden.

God, she couldn’t stop staring. Was it possible for him to have grown more gorgeous in the last week and a half? His golden hair gleamed in the cold afternoon light streaming through the glass windows. The beams wrapped around him like a halo, emphasizing the width of his shoulders, the leanness of his waist, and the strength of his thighs. It wasn’t fair. Not his masculine beauty or the way her heart tried to break out of her chest for him.

Only him.

“Oh, good, you’re right on time,” Lo purred, crossing the gallery floor to greet him with outstretched arms. “I believe you know your artist,” she declared. A smile flirted with her mouth as she led Aiden over to Noelle. “Well, I’ll just leave you to get…uh…acquainted.”

Then her employer—her Benedict Arnold—sailed away on a cloud of hair and Chanel No. 5.

“What are you doing here?” she asked when he didn’t speak, just studied her in that intense, unnerving way he had.

“You’re here,” he murmured.

She snorted, turning away from him, unable to think while meeting those emerald eyes. “And I’ve been here all along. So why today of all days?”

“Because today is the first time you’re showing your work since you’ve left school,” he explained. “I wanted to be here for you.” His hands wrapped around her upper arms, and then his big, hard body pressed against her back and ass. “Sweetheart…”

She closed her eyes, and for a brief moment, the weakness when it came to this man welled up inside her, letting her savor the feel of his body, his earthy scent, and the deep, rumbling timbre of his voice. But then she stiffened, stepping forward out of his hold. “I don’t know why you’re doing this. I don’t have the time right now to figure it out. This is too important for me.” She couldn’t break here. And he could break her. “And right now I need a model, not a pseudo-stepbrother, a savior, a roommate, or an ex-whatever we were. So, if you’re really here to help…” She turned around, crossed her arms, and arched an eyebrow. “Strip.”

They stared at one another, and she gathered every ounce of “I don’t give a damn” in her to meet his intense scrutiny. She was calling his bluff; Aiden, the head of a national conglomerate and the darling of the society columns, wouldn’t dare risk being seen as a body-paint model by his peers and business associ—

“What the hell are you doing?”

He folded the jacket he’d just removed and set it on the floor. His fingers went to his shirt buttons, pushing the first, then a second, then a third through their holes. The slice of golden skin widened until his shirt gaped open, revealing his taut chest.

“Aiden,” she hissed. “What the hell are you doing?” Even though his intention was obvious.

“Stripping, like you told me to.” He shrugged free of the clothing and folded it neatly, too, before placing it on top of the jacket. “You think I don’t know how important today is to you, sweetheart? If you let me, I just want to be a part of it.” He toed off his shoes, whisked off his socks, and dropped his hands to the band of his pants. “Tell me what to do,” he murmured. “What you need from me.”

I need your trust. Your heart. Your…love
. The words ricocheted around her head, but she’d been there, done that, with him. So instead she returned her attention to her paints and brushes.