The Spanish Tycoon's Temptress (18 page)

“No!” he snapped, barely holding onto the towel with his hand while he followed her.  She was grabbing her clothes and putting them on as quickly as possible, uncaring that she was still wet and her clothes were now clinging to her.  “We’re not finished, Elana.  This isn’t over.  Just stop and listen to me,” he demanded. 

She stood up quickly, her hand slicing through the air to deny his command.  “I’m not listening to anything you have to say.  I have no idea why you came back into my life when you thought I was without honor, but that’s done now!  We’re over.  If you come near me again, I’ll call the police and I’ll get a restraining order.”

He ran a hand through her hair.  “Don’t be ridiculous, Elana.  We need to discuss this. We’re older now.  We both know what we want.”

That only angered her more because just standing there in front of her, she knew that she wanted him, wanted him to hold her and tell her that he was sorry again, that he had been an idiot and he should never have put both of them through all of this.  But she couldn’t wait for that.  She was too hurt, too angry for explanations.  She wanted to hurt him as badly as he’d hurt her seven years ago.  Glaring at him while she struggled to attach her bra with shaking fingers, she said, “And I don’t want you!”

“We’re not finished!” he said when she pulled her sweater over her head and grabbed her purse.  She was already walking out the door while he was still trying to pull on a pair of pants, not even bothering with boxers in his effort to get to her and stop her from leaving him. 

“You don’t get to dictate to me when this is over.  We’re done and I don’t want to talk to you!”

She pressed the button on the elevator, relieved when the doors opened and she could just step into the cab.  He was pursuing her steadily now, but she pressed the
‘close’ button several times, praying that she could get away.  Just as he reached her, the doors closed and she leaned back against the richly paneled wall in relief.  She’d done it.  She’d gotten away, but the tears she’d thought were finished once again started flowing and she cursed herself for being so weak. 

As soon as she stepped
into the street, she lifted her arm and a cab was there in moments.  That never happened, she thought but didn’t care how her luck had changed.  She just dove into the back seat and gave the driver her address. 

Within moments, her cell phone was ringing but she turned it off, not wanting to talk to Gaston about anything now. 

Halfway to her house, she decided that her apartment would be the first place that Gaston would look for her.  And she knew that he would look.  He would hunt her down until he found her so she needed to find a place where he wouldn’t think to look.  The only place she could think of that would be safe was the university library.  She could hide in the stacks and no one would search all the floors looking for her.  Students were known to do some pretty lascivious things in the bookshelves so most people kept their eyes on their studies. 

She gave the driver the new address, then sat back and watched the lights of the streets pass by.  She remembered that first night, watching the lights illuminate and fade as they took in
Gaston’s features and she thought to herself that this was all he could be.  Now she had the darkness again, all at his hands.  His distrust of her was so painful to her that she could barely think about what he’d done to them, to their relationship. 

The driver let her off and she paid him, giving him a large tip because she didn’t want to wait for change.  She rushed out and hurried through the heavy doors of the old library, feeling safe
and secure inside the walls.  People had lived and died here, the books telling their stories.  The lights were painfully bright, helping the students study into the wee hours of the night but she wanted to find a dark corner, some place where she could lick her wounds and figure out her next step. 

She’d recovered once from Gaston’s departure, she could surely do it again.  She just had to find the inner strength to fight the need to rush back to him, to demand that he explain.  She shouldn’t want an
explanation from him.  He’d betrayed everything they’d had seven years ago.  She couldn’t trust him again, not with her heart or her future.  He had hurt her and it was so much worse this time.  Before, she’d had an immature love for a man she thought she’d loved.  They’d both been so young, so captivated by what they thought life would be like.  But now, knowing that life was hard, when she thought she’d found someone that she could really share her hopes and dreams with, only to have those hopes dashed by his conceited, insecure judgments, was heart wrenching. 

She would survive though.  She f
ound a chair in a corner with a study station that was empty.  Because it was finals week, the library was abnormally full right now, but that also meant that she could stay here later than normal and not be bothered by anyone telling her that the facility would close soon. 

Her mind went through all the things he’d said and done.  And her eyes became wet and weepy when she remembered his gentle touch after he’d made love to her.  He’d been passionate, demanding and so amazingly wonderful right up until the moment he realized that she was a virgin.  At that point, he’d been so gentle and caring, surprised that she hadn’t been with another man. 

And then he’d walked away.  He’d opened up the damn by leaving her immediately following the most intimate moment of her life, leaving her vulnerable and scared.  What would she have done if he hadn’t left her?  If he’d just held her and told her he thought she was beautiful?  Would she have cried for her loss?  Or would she have turned to him and felt safe and cared for?  Would she have issued some demands herself such as a repeat performance? 

At this point, there was no use in second guessing the ‘what ifs’.  In the end, he’d left her to do whatever it was that he did in the bathroom.  Berate himself, berate her, brush his teeth or whatever a man did after sex.  He’d left her cold, scared and wanting his arms around her. 

Okay, so when he’d come back, he’d held her in his arms until the pain had gone away, rocking her in his arms.  And the warm bath had soothed aching parts of her that she hadn’t known were sore.  That had been very sweet of him and she didn’t think that he took many virgins to his bed.  Well, at least she hoped he hadn’t.  But then again, how had he known that the warm bath would soothe her? 

She sighed and let her head drop into her palms, wondering if she would ever understand what motivated that man.  He was so complex, so difficult to get to know.  He kept so much to himself that she sometimes felt as if she were walking beside him, but completely alone. 

No, that wasn’t a fair statement either.  When she was with him, he surrounded her, consumed her.  He wasn’t the kind of man that would let a woman feel alone when she was with him.  Then what was it that made her feel so….scared when she was with him?  Why was she so vulnerable around him.

When the answer came to her, she wasn’t sure she could handle it.  She tossed it around in her mind, her world crashing in around her.  All that she’d
thought she knew about herself she would have to re-evaluate because the only reason she could feel that way was if she was in love with Gaston.  But how was that possible?  She’d been so cautious!  So careful to not let him get passed her barriers. 

Well, he’d demolished all of her physical barriers so why was she so blind to the possibility that he’d broken down her emotional barriers as well.  She cried, alone and scared, as she acknowledged that she loved that man more than she had seven years ago.  And she hated him for that. 

A long time later, she looked around, astonished to realize that she was practically alone in the library.  She lifted her head and glanced down at her watch, astonished to realize that she’d been in the library for several hours now.  She pulled herself up straight.  She must have fallen asleep and her arm showed her that she’d done so on the desk in front of her, her head cradled in her arms. 

With a sigh of resignation, she stood up, picking up her purse as she made her way out of the library.  She’d stayed so late, she wasn’t sure if she would be able to catch a cab back to her apartment.  She’d have to call someone because it was definitely too late to walk home.  Not that she’d do that at this time of night anyway.  Not in this neighborhood. 

She pulled out her cell phone and glanced at the screen.  With a grimace, she realized that Gaston had called her eleven times over the past few hours.  She pushed the button to make a call, dialing the number to the local cab company.  Not to return any of his calls.  It took twenty minutes, but finally a cab driver pulled up and took her to her apartment. 

She knew she was seeing
things when she stepped out of the cab after paying the driver and thought she saw someone looking astonishingly like Gaston walking away from her building.  But that was crazy.  It was three o’clock in the morning and she’d left him just after ten o’clock.  Surely he wouldn’t still be trying to track her down. 

But just in case, she hurried up the stairs to her apartment and locked the doors.  She d
idn’t turn on any of the lights just in case he was watching, waiting for her to come home.  She knew she’d have to talk to him, but not tonight.  And probably not tomorrow either. 

She curled up on her bed, pulling the pillow close as she cried herself to sleep.  She hadn’t even changed clothes, brushed her teeth or washed her face.  She didn’t have the energy for any of that.  She only had enough energy to
pull the covers over her head, pretend like her apartment didn’t smell like fresh paint and Gaston hadn’t just broken her heart again. 

Two days later, she emerged from her apartment feeling ragged and still exhausted.  She had a painful headache, probably due to the lack of caffeine over the past weekend.  Her first order of business was a cup of coffee.  She would have made something at home, but she was completely out of so many items.  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d stopped at the grocery store. 

She stopped at a coffee shop but when the line was too long, she just got back into her beat up old car and drove to work.  She hoped that someone had already started coffee by the time she arrived.  It was relatively early so she might have to figure out the coffee maker herself.  But with her mental state right now, she wasn’t sure she could figure out how to walk, much less make a pot of coffee. 

When she
pulled into the parking lot, she stared at the building, wondering if Gaston had arrived already.  She hadn’t received any more phone calls from him over the weekend.  Nor had he come to her apartment.  At least she didn’t think he had.  No one had banged on her door so she’d just assumed he hadn’t come by. 

She’d have to clear out of her lab, she thought miserably.  She couldn’t work here.  She couldn’t take Gaston’s funding nor could she risk running into him in the building.  She had no idea where she would find the funding to finish her work, but she’d do it somehow.  Seeing him would be too painful.  A tear fell from her cheek to her hand and it startled her.  She wished she could stop this reaction every time she thought about Gaston.  He’d proven once again that he wasn’t worth any more emotional energy from her. 

The alarm buzzed as soon as she tried to enter the building.  She looked up, confused and embarrassed because several other people were right behind her. 

The security guard
approached, his hands on his security belt and intimidating her despite her assurances that she wasn’t doing anything wrong.  “What’s the issue?” she asked, wishing her voice wouldn’t break like that. 

The guard looked at her badge, then
the list on his clip board.  “Signor Montebello has requested your presence in his office as soon as you arrive, Ms. Catelano.”

Elana cringed and pulled back.  “No.  I’m not going to his office,” she stated firmly. 

The guard pulled up his walkie talkie from behind him and said something under his breath. 

Elana wasn’t going to stick around and wait for him to inform Gaston that she was in the building.  She spun around on her heel and started to walk out once again.  At least, that was her intention.  Instead, she walked right into the one man she’d been trying to avoid. 
Literally.  He’d been standing behind her and she was hurrying so quickly that she didn’t have time to stop before her momentum pushed her right into his strong arms, which immediately closed around her protectively. 

“I’ve got you,” he said softly, bending low and kissing the top of her head.  “Thanks, guys,” Gaston said to the security guards behind her.  “I’ll take it from here.”

“Let me go,” she growled ferociously, not bothering to look up at him. 

“We’re going to have this argument, Elana.  You can yell at me up in my office in private or we can do this right here in the middle
of the lobby.  It’s your choice but we’re getting this out in the open and finishing it.  I’m not spending another seven years without you, even if it was my stupid mistake.”

She looked around angrily and sure enough, several people were looking their way, trying to figure out what the CEO of their company was trying to say.  They tried to hide their curiosity, but it was there anyway as they rushed through the steel and granite lobby area
to their own work areas. 

“Don’t do this, Gaston,” she pleaded with him, her eyes glancing to the right and left, anywhere but to him.