Flirting With Disaster (13 page)

She didn’t hear his words. All eyes were upon her, the smirks, the pity, the sorrow, the laughter. She’d always been the butt of jokes. Her eccentric childhood, her strange mind, her complete failure as a scientist and woman.

She shifted her gaze to the life-size glossy posters. Beck in his former acting roles and with former leading ladies, parties, and fame. He wasn’t the sweet, quiet, maintenance man she’d fallen in love with. The man who played the piano in the dark. The man who built beautiful things with his hands. The man who’d mended her jacket and her heart.

Jude processed the name—his real name—written in big letters. Beckette Slader. She knew that name.

Beckette Slader was none other than Gabriel Beckette Slauter. The boy who’d crashed her parents’ plane.

She took a deep breath, and met his hypnotic gaze for a fraction of a second. He made no move toward her. No hint of remorse ghosted in his stoic, hardened features. This was a man who didn’t care.

She turned and fled.

* * * *

Beck’s anger grew to thundering heights as he took in the satisfied smirks of Fantome and his bitch-of-an-agent, Ava Callahan. They’d done this. They’d set him up. He’d had no idea Jude’s broken engagement had been a national topic on the
Harry Strubel Show
. He hadn’t watched TV since he’d been here.

But, knowing Jude, the negative attention it had brought to her and her work had devastated her. No wonder she’d been acting so out of character all week. She had PTSD, for Christ’s sake. And now he’d added to it.
Monster.

His gaze traveled the room as he frantically looked for Jude. He caught one quick glimpse of her agonized features and the tear that slid from her beautiful eyes just before she turned and ran, her dress billowing behind her.

Beck’s first instinct was to jump off the stage and chase after her. But he didn’t. He held his place,
this
place in front of thousands of fans. Where he could be a stranger to them and himself. Where he didn’t have to face his injustices and guilt. Here, he could be someone else. This was where he belonged.

It was better this way.

He needed this and she didn’t.

She needed someone different. Someone who didn’t wreck lives and drink himself into ten-day benders when things got tough. She needed someone who could trust and love. Who could love her wholly, with all they had.

All he had to give her were reservations. He wasn’t whole.

He was a beast. A Dr. Jekyll who could turn into Mr. Hyde.

The chatter continued as he signed autographs and shook hands for what seemed like hours, successfully restraining the vehement temptation to run to her.

“Do you love her?”

Shut up, Ennis.

“It’s the only thing that matters.”

I said shut up, Ennis!

“You’d be surprised the things love can do and help you overcome…”

Beck left the stage and made his exit, toward her, away from Ennis, away from Strubel and Ava… He didn’t know.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Ava whispered tightly over his shoulder. “This is a publicity event for
you
!”

“I need to get out of here.” He fucking hated the publicity part of this career.

“It’s her, isn’t it? You’re going after her.”

He turned toward the hurt and rage in his agent’s voice. Richard Fantome stood behind her, smirking.

“You knew about her association with Strubel didn’t you?”

Ava’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“I’m outta here.” He spun to leave.

Alcohol beckoned him like a siren’s call. It would numb the pain, silence the taunts. Release the stress about to blow his head off. All because of
emotional ties.

“This is your career, Beck. You wanted this.
We
wanted this. I’ve worked too hard and been with you too long. She can’t have you.”

“Well, neither can you.”

Fifteen

“It is strange to be known so universally

and yet to be so lonely.”

Albert Einstein

H
e pitied her.

He’d tolerated her and slept with her out of pity for killing her parents. A consolation prize for her troubles.

Jude ambled along the top floor hallway, ancient portraits of people important to the castle’s history, staring at her from every angle. She’d never been here before, but had been told the maids’ quarters were on this floor.

She needed to return Nola’s dress and get back to her small apartment in New York. To figure out what she should do with the rest of her life.

Loneliness weighed heavy on her heart. It had been nothing but her work for so long. No real friends, no family…

Loving someone and being betrayed forged a desolation like no other. Yes, Evan had betrayed her, but she’d never really loved him. She’d never been loved by him, either. That was the difference. Losing the soul-deep comfort of being fully accepted for who she was by Beckette, was like having every vein pulled from her body, one by one. A loss so great, she was afraid she’d bleed to death without anyone even noticing.

She ran her hand over the old canvases, the rigid strokes rough under her fingertips. Such history, so many mysteries and lives come and gone.

Would she ever leave a mark on this world in any way? Would anyone remember her and carry on her heart?

A cold draft blew across Jude’s shoulders, and she shivered. It didn’t matter that Beckette had been the pilot when her parents’ plane had gone down. He’d been a kid. Made a tremendous mistake.

That was in the past.

Hiding his identity from her… It was laughable. Using her to assuage his guilt, hiding behind his acting career to run from his past and his addiction. That was sad. She knew what it was like to use work as a way to avoid the difficulties of life and relationships. She was guilty of that herself.

But then Beck had taken things to a whole new level. He’d included her failures in his debauchery, had enchanted her, then drained her joy like a vampire, just to save his career.

She could never go back. Love at first sight? Ridiculous.

Another cold breeze gusted through the dark hallway. Jude glanced around for an open window, but found none. The smell of lavender floated in the air as she peered down the hall toward an open door and lighted room.

“Jude!”

She jumped. She didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to talk or hear his explanations and apologies. She was tired and just wanted to catch the next train home to safety.

She turned to face him, his appearance as beautiful and haunted as ever.

“Did you have to pity me?” She crossed her arms and breathed deep to hold back her tears. She had so many emotions, so many issues with this whole mess, she didn’t know where to start. But she wasn’t a coward when it came to speaking her mind. “Did you really think having sex with me would make me feel better? Did you do it so you could get on the
Harry Strubel Show
and further your career?”

His brows lowered in a confused frown. “What do you mean?”

“The sex, the charming man, the friend who took me out of all my comfort zones and showed me how to be…
me
. How to not be afraid of trying new things. Did you do all that because you thought you owed me something for killing my parents?” She sighed. “My parent’s deaths were a long time ago, Beck. An accident. You were an immature kid. It was nothing you did purposefully. Not like what you did tonight.”

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “You’re upset.”

“You’re damned right, I’m upset. You’re a coward. A slithering coward.”

“Me?”

She huffed. “At least I’m not afraid to take a shot at love. To be open and honest about my flaws. Tragedy happens, Beck. That doesn’t mean people should stop living. Quit playing the victim.”

His eyes opened wide, and he scoffed. “I’m just being smart, here. Somebody has to be logical.”

“I’ll take love and passion over logic any day. You taught me that. Do you love me at all, Beck?”

He stared. His features hardened.

“That’s what I thought.” She turned her back on him.

“Wait. It’s only been a week. Six days ago, I couldn’t even decide between ravioli or linguini.” Jude turned to face him and he sighed. “Do you actually believe you could fall in love with me in such a short time?”

“I do. Unlike you, I’m a hopeless romantic on an optimistic streak this week. Next week, I might very well hate you, so we’re good to go.”

A storm brewed in his golden eyes. “You want honesty? This,” he touched his cheek, “is from Elizabeth. She hit me with one of my broken beer bottles during a fight we had because I was a drunken bastard who didn’t give a shit. And the burns,” he rubbed his arm, “are from the plane crash where I killed your parents. I drank that day, and they are all reminders of my destructiveness.”

Jude’s lungs constricted, and she sucked in much-needed air. “I don’t know what your parents did to you to make you think you don’t deserve forgiveness, but you are not in control of all the bad things that happen in the world. You made mistakes in the past, but you’re a better man now. Live up to it.”

His lips thinned, and he tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling.

Jude sighed. “You know what? It’s really okay. I understand. I’m not one to run away sniveling and crying over some situation I fully participated in. You can go back to your fans and your life. I’m fine.”

She marched quickly down the corridor, ignoring the blank stares of the dead patrons preserved on canvas. She made it to the lighted room where she hoped to find Nola.

“Jude, we’re not finished!”

“Yes, we are!” She couldn’t stand to be near him. It only broke her heart more. She couldn’t stand to hear his excuses for why he didn’t love her or why he couldn’t love himself.

She stopped just inside a cavernous room that must have been meant for private parties, turned to send Beck on his way, and then froze at the sight of Ava Callahan over Beckett’s shoulder.

The woman teetered down the hall on her four inch heels. Her face twisted in fury, as the pistol she held toward the center of Beckette’s back wavered through the air.

Jude screamed, understanding the woman’s evil intent, then leaped in front of Beckette as the shot reverberated through the hall. Hot lava burned her chest and shoulders as she fell into Beckette, bringing him with her to the ground just inside the room. The metallic scent of blood filled her nostrils as she fought to breathe.

The warmth of the room enveloped her. Nola came, and a young man who held Nola tightly to his chest.

Was that Jude’s celadon dress on Nola? It looked wonderful except for the blood stain across the bodice. Jude smiled. “Nola, you look beautiful. You have a bouquet of lavender. I love lavender.”

“Who the hell is Nola? Oh God, Jude. Honey, what did you do?” Beckette’s voice was harsh. He cradled her head and shoulders on his knees. “Honey, stay awake, you hear me? Stay with me.”

His voice faded and Jude’s pain diminished. She floated on a soft cloud, warmed by his body heat.

“Why, Jude? Why would you risk jumping in front of me?”

She looked at him, his features blurred slightly, and smiled. “You’d be surprised what a person is capable of, when they are in love.”

He pulled her to his chest. Her gaze traversed the beautiful room until they landed on a strangely familiar portrait on the wall above the fireplace. That same spicy lavender wafted across her body as she tried to rise from Beck’s lap for a closer look.

“Jude, honey, sit still until the ambulance gets here.” He pressed harder against the wound in her chest. “I have to stop the bleeding.”

Why was he crying? She didn’t care about her sweater. All she cared about was the portrait. She lifted her head for a better look.