Two Week Turnaround (9 page)

Chapter Ten

Sofia carted her suitcase to the door. The porter would be there momentarily to carry it to the car waiting out front to take her to Heathrow. No private jet this time. A seat in first class cost a lot less than being indebted to her father. She walked through the empty hotel room, checking for missed items. It was pointless. She'd barely spent any time here. Most of her belongings had stayed in her suitcase. She'd left more than a few items in Isaac's penthouse, but they'd already been written off as collateral damage.

The porter knocked on the door and she practically ran to open it. She needed out of rainy London, which was as shrouded in fog as her head. Clear skies, blue water and white sand would fix her up.

“Is this all, madame?” the kid asked. His uniform hung off his bony frame. Sofia wasn't sure he could handle her bag, but she kept this to herself and nodded.

“My driver is waiting at the curb,” she began, but she was cut off by the arrival of the elevator. Its doors slid open, revealing a drenched Isaac Blue. He clearly hadn't changed out of today's wardrobe. His artfully ripped and ruined shirt clung to his equally ripped upper body, and his jeans hung low on his hips, revealing the beginning of the chiseled V that continued past his waistline.

Sofia's breath caught and momentarily she forgot every word she knew. When he'd let her leave last night, she'd assumed that was it. Isaac had got her into bed and split as soon as the truth hit the fan. The fact that he was standing before her now, dripping wet, when he was supposed to be on set, suggested otherwise.

Ten minutes later and she would have been on her way to the airport. Where was a time machine when she needed one?

“Take this and hold the elevator,” she ordered the porter when she finally found her voice. “I'll be right behind you.” She had to shove the bag into his hands because he was too busy rubbernecking Isaac.

“Is that...” The young man's voice broke, betraying his youth. The sudden embarrassment snapped him back to reality and he scrambled to get the luggage to the elevator, obediently holding the door for Sofia to follow.

“Fia,” Isaac pleaded with her as she strode by.

He caught her arm and she wrenched away. “It's too late. It's six years too late.”

“It doesn't have to be,” he growled.

There was possessiveness in his voice that sent a quiver through her, but she ignored it. Isaac's dominant side had an effect on her, but then again so did drinking too much or accidentally mixing prescriptions. Side effects were rarely a good thing.

“Actually—” she stepped into the elevator and pressed the lobby button “—it does.”

If the porter hadn't been behind her, she might have cried. Maybe. In truth, she felt numb, but she wasn't certain if it was because of Isaac showing up or the fact that she'd walked away from him.

Snap out of it.
Her room was only on the second floor, which meant he could easily follow her. A simple exit strategy would be best. She'd planned to stop at the front desk and settle her bill. She could do that over the phone. All she had to do was get out the front door and into the car. So why did it feel like a monumental feat to accomplish?

When the doors opened, she expected to see Isaac, but he hadn't followed her. Score one for old hotels with hard-to-find fire escapes and single elevators. Sofia beelined for the door, forcing the porter to run to catch up with her.

“Please, madame.” He tried to stop her, fumbling at the concierge stand with an umbrella stand, but she ignored him.

Rain hit her face in fat, wet drops, clinging to her lashes and sliding cold down her skin. The sudden storm made the summer air feel thick and heavy. The porter had managed to pass her bag off to the driver and was now thrusting a flimsy umbrella over her head.

“Fia!”

Isaac's call surprised her and she spun, expecting to see him coming out the door behind her. But he wasn't there. Her gaze traveled up and she found him standing on a second-floor balcony.

“How did you get out there?” she called, curiosity winning out over her resolve. That definitely wasn't her room.

“As it turns out most women will open their hotel room door for me.” Isaac shrugged, his mouth twisting into an unusually self-conscious grin.

For the first time Sofia noticed the woman hovering near the French doors, clad only in a robe and staring dreamily at Isaac. Of course, a woman would open the door for the sexiest man alive. Which was exactly why Sofia turned and opened the car door, ignoring the protests of the waiting driver. It was time someone shut the door on Isaac.

“Fia!” he yelled again.

She wouldn't have stopped except he surprised her once more. Turning to the woman behind him, he yanked the belt of her robe free. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

Sofia half expected the woman to faint. Instead, she clutched her robe together and melted into the door frame.

Before Sofia could recompose herself and get back to her plan, Isaac climbed over the balcony railing. It wasn't that high up, but it wasn't jumping distance. Not by a long shot. Sofia was vaguely aware of the number of onlookers gathering nearby. No doubt they were looking for the cameras. After all why would Isaac Blue be straddling a hotel balcony in the rain on a London afternoon?

She was frozen to the spot, too, and more than a little ashamed to realize he'd succeeded in winning her attention. He wrapped the terry cloth sash around a balustrade and shot her a reassuring smile.

Oh my god, he was going to swing off the balcony. Given the wrought iron fence that surrounded the ground-floor patios, this seemed less like a romantic gesture than suicide.

Sofia opened her mouth to stop him, but her words caught in her throat as he jumped. The sash slid down the wet metal post with a whoosh that made the whole scene feel like the sped-up final cut of an action sequence. Isaac's feet swung haphazardly close to the row of iron spikes lining the top of the fence, but he tucked in his knees. Launching his body forward in a wild arc, he released his hold on the sash and landed with a heavy thud, his body crouched in a pose only an action star could pull off.

Instinct propelled her toward him, but when she reached him, she smacked his shoulder. “What the hell are you doing?”

Isaac stood and hooked an arm around her waist, pulling her roughly to him. With his free hand, he cupped her chin and forced her to look him in the eyes. “There's been a script change. I'm going after the girl.”

“Show-off,” she murmured, but she didn't try to pull away.

His mouth twisted into a wicked grin. “Whatever you say, princess.”

There was no hesitation as they crashed into one another, lips colliding in the frenzy of unexpected reunion. The rain washed over them, but they didn't let go. Isaac bent down and swept her into his arms. Wild applause startled the two of them apart. Sofia had forgotten they had an audience. Isaac tilted his head in a bow as he carried her back to the hotel. He paused at the steps and turned to look at the porter. “Take Ms. King's luggage inside and tell your concierge I require your most expensive suite.”

By morning, that simple order would be making headlines in gossip magazines all over the world. There would probably be more than a few YouTube videos up as well. There'd be a mess to clean up.

Isaac's mouth found hers again and kissed her until she forgot about publicity stunts and fallout.

“You were plotting,” he whispered when he finally pulled away. “Today it's just us. Fia and Isaac. The world can wait.”

Sofia forgot that she was soaked or that she was going to miss her flight. Instead, she buried her face in his chest. “You're wet.”

“So are you,” he pointed out and held her closer.

The concierge met him with the speed of a man who knew good things came to those who waited on celebrities. He was also self-possessed enough to pretend he wasn't in the elevator with two people about to rip each other's clothes off. At the door to the suite, Isaac handed him a wad of pound notes and a thin black credit card before shutting it in his face.

Back indoors, Sofia shivered in the air conditioning and Isaac frowned, taking her directly to the suite's bathroom. Normally she'd have been busy rating the luxury of the room, but right now she only had eyes for him. He'd come for her, and while his stunt might have been a bit over-the-top, it said all the things both of them had been too scared to say. He wasn't letting her go without a fight.

Isaac set her on her feet and started the bath. Turning back to her, he fingered the buttons on her blouse and slowly began to unbutton it. “I was young and stupid,” he said in a gruff voice. “When you walked back into my life, I should have told you about why I left. I'm telling you now. I'm sorry. I was young and too stupid to see what I had in front of me. When you're nineteen and someone offers you fame and fortune, it's hard to resist. I thought I wanted this life then, and I've been living that lie so long, I'd started to believe it.”

She lifted a tentative hand to his cheek and wiped off the rain. “I know.”

“Do you?” His eyes searched her face, and she felt the last of her resistance slipping away.

“I do,” she promised.

“We aren't a business arrangement,” he told her. “We never have been. I've made mistakes and I'm going to fix them. I didn't know I was lost until you found me again.”

Sofia's eyes closed as he slipped her silky shirt off her shoulders. He undressed her with a slow reverence, occasionally pausing to run his hands softly over her skin. When he got to her panties, he knelt down and slid them past her hips. She stepped out of them carefully, her pulse building with excitement as he removed the barriers between them. But Isaac didn't kiss her. He didn't push her legs open in a primal show of lust. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her bare waist and pressed his face into the soft flesh of her belly.

Her shivering hadn't abated, and between her damp hair and the emotions flooding through her, it grew into violent trembling. Isaac drew back, smiling softly. When he stood, he guided her slowly into the warm bath. Water continued to fill the overly large spa tub and she sank into it gratefully, pulling her knees to her chest and hugging her overwhelmed body.

Isaac stripped off his wet shirt, unveiling the perfect package underneath. She wasn't sure if it was the bath, but suddenly she was feeling warmer. Her body heat increased as he dropped his jeans to the floor and stepped into the tub. Maneuvering her into his arms, he held her close, kissing the top of her head.

This was how it was supposed to be. This moment of a comforting sense of belonging. She'd seen how much he had changed, but she'd never really considered that maybe all their time apart had made them into people who would fight for one another. Now she didn't doubt that was who they had become. Isaac's strong arms crossed over her breasts possessively and she sank against him.

When she came to London, she'd been hesitant to face the man she'd loved. She knew now that she'd never stopped loving him. Sofia had found passion in her career, in traveling and in building her sense of self. That meant that she finally knew herself well enough not to be scared of jumping back into a relationship with Isaac. The realization broke through her, releasing her from the last bonds of her past.

As if he could guess what she was thinking, Isaac's lips nuzzled her ear softly and he whispered, “I love you.”

There was a promise in those words and she extricated herself from his embrace and turned carefully in the tub, arranging her legs around his and sinking into his lap. They knit themselves together, twining their bodies together. Isaac brushed her wet hair from her forehead and kissed her softly. Sofia felt him stir between her legs and she pressed herself closer.

“I love you,” she responded. It felt strange and wonderful and comforting to say it.

“You aren't going back to LA,” he informed her. “Not without me. I've spent enough years without you and I don't want to waste another second.”

“You have a movie to finish,” she reminded him. There would be complications. There would be a lack of privacy. But being here with him now, she knew that didn't matter. She'd told her clients to find something to believe in—something real. The man holding her now was more real than anything in her life.

“I don't care about the movies.” His voice was husky.

Sofia raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Says the guy who swung off a balcony to keep me from getting into a car.”

“It was a very small balcony.” But he returned her smile. “I should have been chasing you for the last six years. I'd do a lot more than that to keep you from leaving now.”

“You don't have to.”

He tipped her face up to his and gazed at her adoringly. “But I will. From here on out. I guess you changed me after all.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I just reminded you of who you are. I reminded both of us.”

Isaac's hand cradled her neck and brought her mouth to his. The kiss was slow, deepening as their bodies fought to be closer. She felt his hand between her legs and then the delicious nudge of his crown against her seam. He paused there as if waiting for permission.

“Mmmm-hmmmm,” she sighed against his lips. His dick pushed inside her with purpose, the bathwater providing enough resistance that she moaned at the rough entrance.

“You okay, princess?” he murmured with concern.

“Never better.” Her arms bracketed his shoulders as he began to move inside her. Isaac's strong embrace was her sanctuary as pleasure released her. She fragmented in his arms, trembling as she came. Throwing her head back, she lost herself to him, her climax so powerful it brought her to tears.

When she finally opened her eyes, she discovered Isaac watching her with hooded eyes. “You are the most goddamn beautiful thing I've ever seen.”