I nurse a glass of wine as I sit on the floor. It's probably a bad idea after the tequila shots, but Jake and Tanya have probably destroyed that buzz.
I can't believe he's done this to me. I can't believe he'd been so sneaky about arranging it either. I don't understand any of it. Did he really believe that being engaged would convince me to participate in his sexual proclivity? I can't believe that I could be so wrong about a person. I can't believe that I'd said yes to marrying him. What I can't believe most of all is that I'm not more upset at finding him with another woman. I'm angry and mortified that he'd discussed our sex life with Tanya, a colleague of sorts, no less, but upset? I have to be honest; I'm not as devastated as a woman in love should be. That part really bothers me.
I rise to my feet as I polish off my wine and walk over to the balcony. I peer out into the night as I continue to obsess.
What is wrong with me?
Why the hell would both of them confront me about my sexual preferences? Do I appear to be prudish or boring? I always thought I was a little wild when it came to sex; not in a whorish way, but I certainly like to do different things.
"I can be…. adventurous. Any man would be a fool to pass up a chance to be with me," I try to convince myself. I glance at the clock.
Two a.m.
"It's still early enough to prove that theory," I scoff.
I retrieve my handbag and find a lipstick and compact. I regard my deep red lips with approval and snap my bag shut. I find my stilettos and put them back on, slightly stumbling from the effects of the alcohol. I fluff out my hair, take one last look in the entry hall mirror, and I'm ready. I call the front desk for the exact location of the bar lounge. The door clicks decisively behind me as if heralding the end to my mindless pondering.
The lighting in the lounge is dim and sensual. A few couples are spread around the room in intimate conversation; several people mingle in groups and a couple of lone patrons sit at the bar. I take a deep breath and enter. I don't want to appear desperate, so the bar seems like the safest place.
I take a seat near the middle of the counter; it somehow feels like a less lonely spot. The bartender approaches me immediately and asks what my preference is.
"Gin and tonic, please," I request unhesitatingly, and he pours the drink and places it in front of me.
I look down at the glass and realize thatthere's absolutely no way I can drink this after the alcohol I've already consumed.
I pull the drink close and fiddle with the stirrer, giving the bartender a brief, tight smile.
"Sam, you can put this lady's drink on my tab. Hi, my name is James, and you are?" he sits down next to me.
"Bella." I tilt my head to thank him for his generosity.
"Bella. That's a pretty name. Fits you like a glove." He smiles wolfishly.
"Does it now?"
"It does." He licks his bottom lip as he lowers his eyes to my mouth.
He's handsome enough; blonde hair, blue eyes, good physique, from what I can gather, but he's the kind of man I know can't be trusted. Hell, at this point, none of them can.
"Are you here alone, Bella?"
I look pointedly at the empty seat on the other side of me and turn back to him with a raised eyebrow. He laughs.
We make light conversation, and I seek out my drink. He's obviously becoming more comfortable and moves closer. He keeps trying to ply me with drinks, but I decline each time. He rests his hand on my thigh, caressing it gently as he whispers in my ear. I cover his hand with my own and firmly move it off my leg.
"You're one sexy woman, Bella"
"Is that so?"
"It is so, and you're driving me crazy. What do you say to joining me in my suite for a nightcap? I have the presidential suite." He places his hand flat on the bar, slides it toward me then lifts it slowly, revealing his hotel key. "What do you say?"
"She'll say no, won't she?" A strong hand slams over the key and swipes it onto the floor. "What the fuck are you doing?" he hisses at me
I whirl around, and Edward is standing glaring at me murderously, his eyes blazing in outrage and anger.
"What are you doing here?" I'm surprised and somewhat angered at his interference.
"You got a problem, man?" James stands and advances on Edward.
"I do. The lady is with me," he answers then steps up decisively.
What?
"Look, she said she was alone. Get lost, man."
James reaches down, picks the key up and places it in my hand. "It's the presidential suite. I'll be waiting." He strokes my cheek.
Edward pushes me behind him and punches James with such force that he knocks him up onto the bar, laying him out flat on the countertop.
I gape in shock. Gasps and the odd scream ring throughout the lounge.
"Fuck!" James grabs at his jaw as he rises, angrily swiping turned-over glasses and bottles off the counter.
"You're going to pay for that, motherfucker." He points angrily at Edward, who's now unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves.
"You want more?" His voice is eerily calm, and it makes my blood run cold. I've never seen him like this.
"No! Stop it, both of you." I jump in-between them.
"Am I going to have to call security?" The bartender, Sam adds, walking from behind the bar and steps in to keep the two apart.
"Nah, it's all good, Sam. Bella knows where to find me." James winks at me then turns to walk away.
"Don't bank on her showing up!" Edward yells after him.
"I'm not going to forget this, Edward. Next time." He glowers and spits blood on the floor.
I turn back and look at Edward, who's making to follow him.
"Stop it! Are you insane?"
"Am I insane? What the fuck are you doing? You don't even know that guy!"
"And you are not my fucking father. Stay away from me." I push at his chest and storm off. I can hear him stalking behind me.
"You are not going up to that room, Bella. I won't let you."
I whirl on him. "You won't let me? Again, you are not my father, Edward. You have no say in what I do."
I turn and head for the elevator. I'm certainly not planning to join that jerk, James, but I don't feel I have to enlighten him to that fact.
Screw him.
As I make my way across the highly polished marble floor, I twist my ankle and slip.
"Ah!"
"Shit! Bella, are you all right?" He runs over and kneels to help me.
"Don't touch me! No, I'm not all right, it damned well hurts!"
Several hotel workers are gathered around me.
"She'll be fine. I'm a doctor." Edward announces confidently.
They seem to be satisfied and step back to allow Edward to examine my ankle.
"Let me see." He reaches for my leg, and I flinch before he can actually put his hands on me.
"Don't touch it!" I squeak.
"Bella, I need to see how bad it is. Trust me, okay?"
"I don't trust you," I snap.
"Look, I know why you're skeptical about me as a man, but you can trust me as a doctor. Let me see your ankle."
I read the sincerity in his eyes, and slowly ease my leg over to his hand. He presses on it gently. It hurts, but not as badly as I thought.
"It's not broken. It's a sprain," he sighs in relief.
"Are you sure?"
"Without a doubt." He rises to his feet and sticks his hand out for me. "Do you think you can walk?"
I try getting to my feet and wince. "Ow! Damn it!"
He rolls his eyes and steps over to me, he places a hand behind my back, bending slightly.
"What are you doing?" I panic.
"What does it look like? Don't bother fighting me on this."
Before I can protest, he scoops me up and walks over to the elevator.
"She'll be fine. I'll get her to her room safely and wrap her ankle." He addresses the nearby hotel staff. "What room are you in?"
"Penthouse level…room four." I hesitantly wrap my arm around his neck to secure myself. He nods and steps into the elevator.
"I'm fine, Edward. You can put me down now," I say once we've reached my room.
"Give me your key." He orders softly.
I huff irritably and dig in my purse and hand over the key. He heads toward the bedroom.
"Not in there," I protest, not wanting to be anywhere near the room that Jake and Tanya used. He stops abruptly and frowns at me, but sets me down on the chaise instead.
I look down at my ankle. There isn't any swelling that I can see, but it aches when I try to rotate it.
"Stay put. I'm going to get my bag and some ice," he warns.
"Is that necessary? It's not even swollen."
"Either you stay put, or I'm driving you to the emergency room. Choose."
I scowl at him for barking orders at me.
"Fine."
"I'll be right back."
What the hell is he doing here? He's going to get his bag…from where?
He has a lot of explaining to do. Firstly, why is he following me? Secondly, why did he feel the need to start a bar fight over me? I can't get his expression out of my head. He looked like he was going to commit murder.
Is he jealous?
This is such a mess. I bury my face in my hands. My thoughts are one huge ball of confusion.
"Why is this happening?" I mutter.
"It happened because you were being stubborn," he walks back into the room with a leather case in hand and an ice bucket in his arms.
"That was quick."
"My room is right down the hall."
"Are you following me?" I ask coldly. I can't believe he'd go to such lengths to pursue me. The auction was one thing, but this is getting ridiculous.
He walks over and kneels in front of me, smirking.
"Answer me, Edward!"
"The answer is no. I did not follow you here and request a room on the same floor, just to be close to you."
I arch an eyebrow at him.
"Offering unnecessary information is basically an admission of guilt."
"Learn that from your lawyer boyfriend?" He looks up at me with an amused, smug, expression. I bite my lip to keep from responding.
"In response, the reason I divulged so deeply is because I knew what you were thinking. I wanted to make things clear before you assumed anything more."
I wince a little as he places the wrapped ice onto on my ankle.
"Sorry," he mumbles immediately.
We're silent as he tends to me. I study him carefully. He's proficient, gentle and completely focused on caring for his patient; me. For the first time, the roles are reversed.
"It looks like you're going to need some for yourself." I finally break the silence.
"What do you mean?" He looks up, puzzled.
I motion to the back of his right hand; the skin on his knuckles is marred and looks slightly bruised. "What the hell were you thinking, anyway, hitting that guy? He could've killed you."
"I highly doubt that," he snorts.
"He called you by your name. How do you know each other?"
He clenches his jaw and fixes me with an icy glare.
"What the hell were you thinking, flirting with him? Aren't you engaged?"
"You do not get to butt in or inquire about my personal life. Have you got that?"
"I apologize. I forgot. Only you're allowed to do that," he remarks snidely as he begins to tape my foot.
"Unlike you, it's my job to butt into and inquire about people's personal lives."
"And it is my job to heal. Now shut up and hold still so I can get this finished. And by the way, that was some damned reckless behavior you were exhibiting tonight. Things must not be perfect in post-engagement world if you're letting the sleaziest of men put his hands all over your ass."
"His hands weren't on my ass. You sound jealous, Edward." I counter.
He blows out a breath and rises to his feet. "Jealousy is something that is very foreign to me. I've never experienced it, it's always been the other way around, but you…."
"Are you claiming to be jealous, Edward?" I smile up at him arrogantly.
His look is intense, one almost of longing.
"Yes, I am…. so what? I'm not ashamed to admit it." He shrugs, surprising me. "When I saw you with that guy, I became possessive. The sight of him touching you…"
My smile disappears. I can't fathom how this conversation turned so serious, so quickly.
"Then there's Jacob. The way he looks at you, and the way you look at him…. it sparked something in me the night of the banquet. I had to do something, anything."
"So, you spent twenty thousand dollars on me, for what exactly? What did you think that money was going to buy, Edward?"
"A chance."
"A chance?"
"I thought that if I bid on you and won, that it would give us a chance to talk; spend time together, without all the professional stuff in the way. I thought it would be the perfect opportunity for you to get to know me."
"I think I know you pretty well, Edward."
"No…. no, you don't, Bella. You think you know me. You know a man who came into your office with his wife, pretending to seek advice about marital problems, but you don't know the entire story. In your eyes, you see a man whose sole purpose is to manipulate and conquer women, using any means necessary. You see a man that has no respect for women, but you're wrong. I respect my mother and my sister. I respect women. I respect you, Bella."
I'm taken aback by his sudden forthrightness and can only listen in silence.
"What you think you know is the complete opposite of what is true. I've done unforgivable things in my past, yes. And I'll most likely do more, but one thing you choose to ignore about me, is that I have feelings. I'm not just some cheating, heartless man who doesn't give a shit. What you choose to ignore is the way that I feel about you."
"How do you feel about me?" I regret the words even as they form in my mind, but it's as if I can't stop them from being spoken.
He closes his eyes and runs his hand through his hair. "I want you."
"This is not news, Edward. You want me to go to bed with you."
"No! I want you!" He drops to his knees in front of me, and lifts my chin to look at him, compelling me with his blazing, green intensity.
"You want sex. You like the thrill of the chase."
He releases his hold on me, but keeps his eyes locked on mine. "I can get sex from anyone. And trust me, I'm not in the habit of chasing any woman for it. It doesn't get me off. What I want from you is so much deeper. You're beautiful and alluring and you challenge me. You're the total opposite of me, yet you're my equal. You frustrate me, but you also make me smile. I think about you, and my body radiates a warmth I've never experienced before. I want to know your mind. I want to know your body. I want to know everything about you. I want all of you, Bella."
What do I say to all of that, what can I say? I'm attracted to him; more than just attracted, but that feels like a normal feeling to have toward a man like him. He's devastatingly handsome, with an amazing body. His smile is capable of melting the hardest of hearts, and his eyes are so exceptional, he could pin you, like a butterfly to a board, with just one of his intense looks. He has a way of getting to people; I've witnessed his presence onstage some days ago. And women especially, find him irresistible. I recognized his potent attraction the moment he walked into my office.
He's completely mesmerized Victoria. Lauren would do anything to hold on to him. I think about poor Angela Newton; she didn't stand a chance, giddy as a schoolgirl. And Rosalie, despite what she says and feels now, after just one dance, she was putty in his hands, ready to do his bidding. But he wants none of them. He's here on his knees, declaring how much he wants me.
He's waiting; probably for the combative response that has come to define our interactions.
"Say something," he chuckles nervously, still holding my gaze.
"Why do men cheat?"
"What?" His eyebrows knit together tightly.
I can't believe I asked that, it wasn't what I was consciously planning. I'm not really sure I want to hear his answer, but the question is out there now; no taking it back.
"Why. Do. Men. Cheat?"
"What does this have to do…?"
"It has everything to do with this conversation." I rise to my feet, and he follows suit. "You say that you want me, and that you want a chance. I can't wrap my head around why you think that I'd grant you this, after everything you've done to women in the past. So, my question to you is, why do men cheat?"
"I don't know! I can't speak for every man, Bella. All I can say is that for me, it just happened."
"That's all you can say? Was Lauren not enough for you? Did Irina not want to participate in videotaping?" What, Edward? Was the sex not good enough? Was it that neither of them wanted to participate in fucking threesomes?" My chest heaves as the last of my control snaps like a fragile thread.
"Threesomes? I've never…"
"Oh, I sincerely doubt that." I cut him off. "All you men are the same. Threesomes and videotaping are all the same kinky crap."
I hobble over to the bar and pour myself a glass of wine.
"You all want to have your cake and eat it too. You want videotaping, threesomes, foursomes, and God only knows what else!" I swallow the contents in the glass and pour a second.
"Why do I get the feeling that we're not talking about me?" he sighs and walks over and snatches the bottle and glass from my hand. "What happened? Where's your fiancée?"
"Who knows, probably somewhere off having an orgy. If you hurry, there may be time for you to videotape it." I snatch the glass back and glare at him.
"I wish you'd never learned about that part of my life," he huffs in annoyance.
"I bet you do."
"So, Jacob wants threesomes, and you're no longer wearing your engagement ring. What does that mean?"
"What the hell do you think it means, Edward?"
"I knew it." He shakes his head and looks away.
"You knew what?"
"I knew from the moment I laid eyes on him, that he wasn't right for you. So, one woman isn't enough for him, he needs two."
"Shut up, Edward."
"What a dumb jackass."
"How dare you sit here and judge? You're not any better."
"I can't believe you're actually defending him. I would never ask for things like that from you. He and I are nothing alike. If that's what he's basing your relationship and future on, then he's a fool. If he loves you, there would be no need for another."
"You know nothing about me and Jake." I limp over to the window and watch as storm clouds roll in.
"I know that a guy like that knows nothing about a woman like you. I know that if you'd let yourself, you would see that. You would see that you could have more."
"With you?" I scoff.
"With any man that you desire, but with a man who has eyes for only you; a man who understands what he has in a woman like you, intelligent, beautiful, passionate and fulfilling."
I'm not used to being described in that way. I'm familiar with 'beautiful and sexy', but Edward uses words like 'passionate and fulfilling.' It gives me chills.
The way he speaks of me is the very reason that I would never have given into Jake's wants. And the way his words have so deeply impacted me, is the reason that I'm tempted to give in to Edward, and it terrifies me.
"He doesn't have a clue, Bella. If he did, he would be standing here, where I'm standing right now, fighting to get you back instead of leaving you here, alone."
He slams the wine bottle down on the table and heads for the door.
"Stay off that ankle." He shuts the door angrily. I stare out of the window, the rain pelting violently against it, seemingly echoing Edward's departing mood.
I recap the events of the night.
He's right, and I hate it. Every word he's said about Jake, our relationship, is the truth; a truth I don't want to face.
My feelings for Edward are changing, unraveling right before my eyes, and I can't seem to find a way to stop it. I grasp at any straw that I can to deny my feelings, from him being my patient, to my relationship with Jake. These important details don't seem to matter. I feel as if, since the instant I set eyes on him, I've been sucked into some Edward-like vortex.
Tears slide down my face as realization finally bubbles to the surface. The truth is winning out. I screw my eyes shut and shake my head vehemently, trying to expel the shouting in my head, to no avail.
The phrase, 'The first step to healing, is admitting that you have a problem', comes to mind.
Therapists use it all the time. I recall quoting it to patient's numerous times, I've even used it with Edward. I scoff at that now. I need to take my own advice. But right now, I need to get out….out of this room and away from him. His scent is everywhere I turn, assaulting my senses, driving me crazy.
I hurriedly head for the door, wobbly on my feet and not bothering to grab a jacket. He's at his door, ice bucket in hand and is about to enter. He must sense something is wrong and approaches me.
"Everything alright?"
"Just…just stay away from me, okay," I order and take off down the hall.
I hear him calling after me, but I don't acknowledge him. The elevator arrives, and I step inside without hesitation.
I press for the floor for the roof garden. The heavy glass doors, thankfully, are not locked, and I push them open, with a small amount of difficulty. The freezing rain drenches me in mere seconds, but I don't care. I stand with my head thrown back, eyes closed and allow it to wash away all the wrong and the hurt, I feel. Thunder rumbles, and the storm rages on, emulating the turmoil I feel. Overcome with frustration and anger I scream loudly into the raging night.
I do it over and over again, with everything inside of me and all the strength I have; until I feel a pair of strong hands grip my shoulders. He spins me around.
"Bella, what's wrong!"
I blink as I try to see through the blinding rain. I push the hair that's plastered to my forehead away from my face.
"Stop following me, go away, Edward!" I move away from him, and he grabs my wrist, pulling me back.
"Are you insane? It's like a fucking hurricane out here, and I told you to stay off your ankle. Come back inside!"
I wrench away from him and glare at his gorgeous, now soaking wet face. Even in this torrential downpour, his eyes blaze back at me, drawing my attention, like a lighthouse in a storm.
"You can't control me, Edward! I won't let you!"
"What? I'm not trying to control you. I'm trying to save you from being struck in the head by lightening!"
"I don't need you saving me from anything! I need you to leave me alone! Stop following me around, telling me about my life and telling me what you think I want and need!"
"That's what this is about? You're standing out here risking death because of what I said earlier? God, you're so reckless, Bella!"
"I'm so sick of your self-righteous attitude! This is what you wanted; me stripped bare, realizing, admitting to myself, to you. You want to be right!"
"What the hell are you talking about? I've never asked for you to make some revelation to me, and I certainly did not ask you to be reckless while doing so. I just wanted you to be honest with yourself about your feelings and what's going on in your life!"
"Who the fuck asked you, Edward? You know nothing about my feelings or my life!"
We're both breathing heavily and glaring darkly at the other, before he reaches for my hand again.
"Come inside. We can talk…"
"No. I'm not going anywhere! Do you know why I came out here, Edward? I came out here because I couldn't breathe knowing you were in the room practically next to mine! I felt like I was suffocating! Ever since I've showed up in Florida, you've been everywhere I've turned! So, I had to get away from you, but here you are once again!" I laugh sarcastically.
He runs his hand roughly through his wet hair.
"And you know what? I'm tired! I'm so tired of running and...and, resisting and pretending. So, you win, Doctor Masen."
"What do I win?"
A loud, thunderous clap erupts directly overhead, and I scream. He grabs hold of me, and he almost forcibly ushers me inside and into the elevator.
We're outside my room. He takes the key from my hand and opens the door, waiting for me to enter first.
I hear the soft click of the lock. That tiny, subtle noise nearly makes me jump out of my skin.
The rain continues to hammer noisily against the windows, apparently. I walk across to peer outside; or to put some distance between us, I'm not sure which.
The sound of liquid filling a glass echoes through the silence. I glance behind me to see him wet and shirtless, pouring brown liquor into two glasses. I didn't even notice him take his shirt off. This is it, the seduction.
He walks over to me and hands me the glass. "Cognac"," he waits for me to accept.
"I think I've had quite enough to drink tonight." My eyes dart between him and the extended glass.
"This will warm and relax you."
"Thank you." I take the glass and our fingers brush.
He holds my gaze as we sip.
I savor the taste on my tongue, and nod faintly in approval. He backs away slowly, still looking at me, before turning to head into the bathroom. My heart races in anticipation, not knowing what he'll do next.
I take a gulp of the drink and place the glass on the window ledge. I hear his approach and without words, he begins stroking my hair with a towel. He's so gentle, yet his movements feel sure and firm. My eyes flutter closed. I feel him move, the warmth of his breath on my neck. I brace my hands against the cold window and lean my head back until it rests on his shoulder. His skin on mine feels incredible. His breathing picks up as our bodies briefly touch. We're not quite flush against each other, but enough that I feel his arousal graze across my lower back. I can't help the slight moan that escapes my lips.
He takes a step back. My eyes open at the loss of his body. "Step forward," he commands softly, voice low and tinged with lust. I obey, and he moves the zipper of my dress down; slowly. I'm in nothing but a strapless lace bra and matching panties.
He dries my shoulders and back, placing kisses over each area he dries. My hands claw at the window until they're balled into fists.
"What do I win? Tell me," he whispers.
I'm too caught up in what his lips and tongue are doing to my neck and shoulders to respond.
"Tell me." His hands slide around the front of my mid-section, and he pulls me against him.
"You said it would only be a matter of time," I gasp at the sensation of his body so close to mine. "You were right. You win, Edward. You're finally getting what you want."
He stops; everything, but I know he's still behind me. I spin around to see him watching me with a perplexed look on his face.
"What?"
"You think I want this?" he gestures, pointing between the two of us.
"Well, don't you?"
He shakes his head and smirks, as if in disbelief.
"Of course, I want this. I want you, Bella. I've been nothing but clear about that from the beginning. But this whole you win thing, I don't know what the fuck that's supposed to mean. We are either in this together or it's not happening."
I can't believe my ears.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I told you earlier that I'm tired of running and pretending."
"Which means what, exactly?"
"Excuse me…. weren't you just here in this room with me? Can't you tell that I want the same thing you do?"
"Which is what, Bella? What do you want?"
Is this some kind of trickery? A complete mind-fuck, Edward Masen style? He's been chasing me, taunting me the entire time I've known him and finally, when I'm giving in, he backs off.
"The truth is, Bella, you said all of that bullshit outside, and you can say it until you're blue in the face, but that's all it is; bullshit. You still can't say exactly what it is you want."
"I know what I want." I slide my hands up his bare chest, marveling silently at how the muscles ripple and contract beneath my palm.
"That's all well and good, but…." he gently clasps both my wrists in his hands, pulling them away from his body, "… it means nothing until you say the words out loud…. to me." He leans in, kissing me very close to my lips. "I'm not coming in, until you invite me in, Bella. Have a goodnight."
I'm half-naked, worked up and gaping like a fish. I watch him grab his wet shirt.
Those whispered words, with their double entendre, bounce around in my already scrambled brain, as he leaves me standing there. Alone.