Fitzwilliam Darcy, Rock Star (43 page)

Darcy rolled his eyes. “You have no idea.”

She grinned, glad the moment had passed, and reached for the phone.

***

Richard nodded to the doorman and entered the elevator. When the doors stopped, Richard was immediately struck by something odd. The smell of coffee was there when it shouldn’t be. He walked toward the voices coming from the living area.

He stopped and gaped when he saw Darcy wearing nothing but a pair of cotton drawstring pants and Elizabeth wearing shorts and a Slurry T-shirt. Their hair was damp, and if that wasn’t enough, it was clear from their body language they had been “close.”

Darcy was explaining to Elizabeth that Richard seemed to live in his fourth bedroom when Richard recovered the power of speech. “Lizzy! I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

Elizabeth blushed slightly and smiled. “Hi, Richard.”

“Good thing I got extra croissants this morning,” he said lightly. “Have you eaten yet?”

“No,” Elizabeth said with an embarrassed chuckle.

“Will,” Richard said as he put a bag on the table, “could I have a word with you?”

Darcy followed his cousin into his office and waited. “That’s great, Will, that’s just fuckin’ great,” Richard observed. “You dumped me with Charles, who spent all night moping over Jane, getting drunk, and then barfing, while you’re back here shagging her sister!”

“Richard, believe me, this wasn’t planned,” Darcy replied calmly.

“Damned amazing timing then.”

“As a matter of fact, you can thank Wickham for that. He called her last night and got Lizzy so worked up, she drove down here to read me the riot act.”

“Well, I can see that was one of his more successful plans,” Richard commented dryly.

“Indeed,” Darcy grinned, taking a sip of his tea.

From the table where Elizabeth was setting out the food, she could hear every word. She wondered why they had even shut the door.

“Fine, you enjoy your playmate, but I suggest you give Charles a call later. It’s your fault he’s in this mess.” He opened the door and announced, “I’m going to bed,” and walked to his room.

Elizabeth looked at Darcy with open curiosity. She figured it was his house, he must know the walls were as thin as tissue paper. “What did he mean about Charles?”

Darcy shrugged as he crossed over to her. “Truthfully, I don’t know. Charles was depressed last night over Jane. He’s been missing her terribly.”

“Really?” Elizabeth asked. “Jane thinks he wants to break up with her.”

Darcy looked confused as he walked with her to the table and sat down. “Why would she think that?”

“Charles has been distant from Jane lately, he’s been keeping things from her,” Elizabeth told him as she sat down. “And when they talked Sunday night, he said he needed to talk to her face-to-face and that it was something bad.”

Darcy nodded knowingly. “He’s not going to break up with her.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Darcy took her hand. “He is going to tell her about his father.” Darcy took a sip of his tea and continued. “Charles’s father was just released from jail, where he served twelve months for insider trading.”

Elizabeth was shocked. “Why didn’t I hear about this before?”

“Because we’ve been working like crazy to make sure that
nobody
heard about it. I told Charles not to tell Jane.”

Elizabeth froze. “So, why did you tell me?”

Darcy looked at her warmly. “Elizabeth, you know about Georgiana, there can’t be any secrets between us now.”

“But why did you trust me when you didn’t trust Jane?”

Darcy stopped, put his cup on the table, and turned to her, taking both her hands in his own. “Because I love you, Elizabeth. Don’t you know that? I ardently love and admire you, with all my heart.”

Elizabeth felt chilled. She pulled her hands back. “Wait,” she told him. “Will, you’re going too fast.”

“Elizabeth,” his voice was filled with wonder, “did you really not know?” He studied her eyes and found the truth of his words. “I’m sorry, Lizzy. I didn’t mean to startle you, but it’s true. I do love you. And I have for the longest time.”

“No,” Elizabeth breathed and got up. She moved away from the table and faced the window.

“Lizzy,” he said gently as he placed his hands on her shoulders.

“Will, I told you, you have to slow down!” she told him, pulling away.

“Lizzy, I’m not trying to rush you. I just want you to know how I feel.” He held up his hands in a nonthreatening way. “Besides,” he grinned, “you can’t tell me that after last night, you don’t feel the same way.”

“What?” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Will, how can I know if I love you? I feel like I barely even know you!”

“Elizabeth, you know me!” he snapped. He could sense they were getting into trouble again. He fell back on the one thing he could trust. “You may not know the stupid details of my life, but you know my music. You know what counts about me.” He stepped closer. “You can’t tell me that you would have touched me, have comforted me the way you did last night if you didn’t love me. You wouldn’t have done that for anyone else.”

Elizabeth looked up at him, her expression confused and troubled. “Actually, I don’t know that. What you shared was so horrible, and you were hurting so badly. I don’t know if it was love or what. I just wanted to comfort you. So I don’t know if I would have done the same for someone else. If it was someone I respected and liked, and I had no other reason not to, then maybe I might have slept with someone else if they had shared something that painful with me. I don’t know.”

“No, Elizabeth, I don’t believe it.”

“Will, it’s true. Look,
please
, you’ve got to slow down. I like you, you’re a good friend and a great lover, but I don’t know if I love you, not yet.” She looked saddened by the realization.

“You cannot make love the way we did and
not
be in love!” He shook his head in stunned disbelief. “I love you! Only you! Of all the women I have known, I want you! Can’t you see that? You have seen all the women I could have. I could be worse than Richard, for Christ’s sake, but I don’t want anyone but you, Elizabeth,” he said, his words vibrating with intensity. “Don’t you understand? Didn’t you hear it when I played for you?”

“You’re not listening to me.” Elizabeth stepped back slowly, her face shocked. “I’m sorry, Darcy. I’m very, very sorry. But… I need time.” Then she turned away and quickly moved toward the elevator.

Darcy followed her. “Stay!” he told her as the doors began to close.

Elizabeth only shook her head, unable to look at him, tears forming in her eyes.

***

Elizabeth found herself walking, not knowing what to think. Her truck was parked in the Village, but Elizabeth soon realized that she was heading north and figured she might as well keep going, rather than double back and have to find another parking space. In fact, she frankly didn’t care if she ever saw her truck again. She felt like she could simply keep walking for the rest of her life.

What had happened? In twelve hours, her life had changed completely. Oh, she could deny it. She could pretend that it was just a meaningless fuck with no consequences, but nothing could be further from reality.

No, nothing was the same.

She slowed as Darcy’s face appeared before her eyes. How could she have been so blind? No wonder he was stunned by her ignorance. He had been offering his affections to her for so long, she realized now. With the remarkable clarity of hindsight, she was able to see it all: the kindness he had shown her when performing, the way he comforted her when she was troubled, the solo he had played just for
her
. She shivered in the July heat as she saw his eyes again as he looked at her, as he fucked her, as he professed his love for her.

No
, she told herself, quickening her step and trying to push the image away.
Don’t think about that
. She laughed out loud like a madwoman. When else was she to think about it? Realizing the necessity of putting her thoughts in order, she found one of the ubiquitous coffee shops, got herself a triple vanilla latte, and sat down by herself to sort things out.

Okay, point one: He loved her, or at least he thought he did. Did she love him? All the orderliness of her thoughts fell away at that one question. Did she? She didn’t think she did, but she remembered what he had said: “You cannot make love the way we did and
not
be in love!” Was he right? Her cynical side said,
Of course not. You had great sex, you did not make love
. But she wasn’t so sure. She sipped absently on her drink as she lost herself in the fresh memories.

She certainly had never had sex like that. She caught a whiff of his scent trapped in her hair and her gut clenched. “Oh God,” she whispered. What had she done?

She struggled to pull herself together. Even if he was right, even if they had made love, that didn’t mean she loved him and even if she did, he was pushing her. Of that fact she could be sure, and she grasped on to it tightly. She had asked him, begged him to slow down, and he hadn’t. He wouldn’t back down, and in the end he had pushed her right out the door.

And now they were on opposite sides of the door, and neither was happy. She sighed heavily and rose. When she returned to the sidewalk, she paused for a full minute, not sure which way to turn her feet. In the end, her pragmatism turned her toward the north. She knew she would see Will at the rehearsal and they could speak there. It would be better that way, safer, because they couldn’t get distracted or carried away.

Realizing she had found as much peace as she could, she put the question of “what comes next?” out of her mind and walked uptown. She still couldn’t admit that she loved him, but she wasn’t willing to rule that out of her future, and she did know she needed to know him better, and he needed to know more about her.

That thought triggered a flash of annoyance in her jaw. He hadn’t seemed to care about her feelings. He was so certain of her, which in a way was flattering, but at the same time galling. Was she that predictable? And even if she was, where did he get off telling her what she felt? Okay, yes, she was very uncertain of her feelings, but still, she disliked the way he told her what she felt—once again, taking control of everything around her. Mr. Control Freak.

At least she understood now why he was so controlling. She still felt sorry for him for what happened to Georgiana, but at the same time, she needed to work out her own life, not be controlled by someone else, no matter how well meaning.

It was a relief when the hotel where she would meet Jane and the others finally came into view. She entered the restaurant, knowing she was an hour early. She wasn’t hungry, but she knew she needed her strength for what was to come.

She ordered and ate her meal without tasting any of it. Her mind and indeed her spirit were miles away.

***

Darcy watched the elevator doors close with a feeling of helplessness. Without knowing what he did, he grabbed the first object he found and threw it, the crystal vase smashing into the closed doors and shattering to a million pieces.

“Nice job,” Richard said quietly.

Darcy gave him a black look.

“I heard your discussion with Elizabeth,” he continued, ignoring Darcy’s expression. “That was good. I was impressed.”

“Shut up!” Darcy growled violently.

“No, really, it was good. I especially liked the way she walked out on you.”

Darcy spun on his cousin, finding his right fist pulled back by his ear and not knowing how it had gotten there. He froze. He had not punched Richard since he was fifteen. “Why? Why are you doing this?”

Richard shrugged. “Just wanted to share the misery.”

“Fuck you!” Darcy swore emphatically as he walked to his bedroom.

“Why not? Everyone else has.”

Darcy slammed the door and slid down against it. He couldn’t go to his bed. It was too much. Too many memories lay there. “Lizzy,” he breathed.

Why? Why had she walked away? He loved her, and she loved him. He was certain of it. He knew, from the way she had kissed him, last night, on the stool.

His mind was distracted by the memory of the stool, by the incredible feeling of entering her, of sinking himself into her, of their limbs being tightly intertwined and her cries of passion as he pleasured her again and again.

The ice-cold fact that she was gone broke in on his awareness, shattering the beautiful memory. She was gone! The vision of her face, sad and pitying as she told him she didn’t love him, replaced the vision of her ecstasy, and he was desolate.

Why? He had offered her everything: his love, his home, his wealth, his very soul. He simply wanted to love her, to worship her with his complete being.

He snorted. Apparently that wasn’t enough. Elizabeth Bennet didn’t want that. Where she thought she would find better, he could not, in all honesty, imagine. No one would, or could, love her the way he did.

And her career! Didn’t she see what he could do for her career? She thought she wanted to make it alone? Fine! She would see just how alone she could be.