Provocative (Tempting Book 3) (19 page)

O
ne week
later

F
or the second
time in two months, I found myself in my car, staring up at a house that I never really wanted to step foot in. The problem this time was that it was the house I grew up in. But it was on my list of things that I’d carefully constructed after the emotional upheaval of the ‘bathroom incident’, as I was now referring to it as.

Considering I was twelve years older than Adele, she sure as hell knew how to pack a punch when it came to proving me wrong about who was the smarter of the two of us. I’d never make the mistake again of doubting that she could school me on mature decisions in regards to our relationship.

Yet again, Adele was right. About everything. Touching her that night, even going to the bar, was stupid. Incredibly, selfishly stupid. But the next day I’d started going about rectifying that.

Maybe she wouldn’t know for another month, all the things that I was going to do, but eventually she would. And I could only hope it was enough.

With a deep, absolutely tortured sigh, I pushed out of my car and walked to the front porch. Just as I was about to knock, a bored-looking maid pulled open the massive mahogany door and informed me that my father was in his study.

“Is my mother here?” I asked her just as she was turning to leave the soaring entry way.

“No sir, she’s at an appointment for the remainder of the afternoon.”

I rolled my eyes when she curtsied and walked away. She curtsied. And an appointment for my mom probably meant she was getting day-drunk with her country club friends. My parents were the worst sort of rich people cliché.

Wandering slowly down the hallway that led to my father’s study, I took a few minutes to look at the gold framed photos that still hung on the wood paneled walls. My parents with various powerful people, some in politics, some in the entertainment industry.

Not a single photo of me.

That’s probably why this would be so easy.

Adele’s comment about her family had rung so true to me, but not in the moment. Her strength in knowing that she was just done with the people who raised her astounded me. A lesser woman would have caved to their expectations. I’d caved to my father’s until I left for Harvard, the only true act of defiance in my entire life.

Using my knuckles, I rapped lightly on the heavy door to his study, which was cracked open.

“Come in,” he called out and I took another deep breath before entering. The desk in the middle of room dominated the space. It was far bigger than necessary, and I used to think of it as my father’s way of overcompensating for something. He was seated behind it in an ostentatious high-backed chair and reading the newspaper. There wasn’t even a computer in here, for God’s sake.

“Father,” I said in greeting when he didn’t look up at me. But when I closed the door behind me, he finally glanced up.

“Planning on killing me?”

“I’d never be stupid enough to do it here.”

He almost cracked a smile, but it was like he reminded himself that he hated me again. “What’s this about?”

I blew out a breath through pursed lips and gestured to a chair. “May I?”

Because he was a dick, he took a second to think about it before nodding. “Should your mother be here for this little heart to heart?”

“No. It doesn’t involve her. I doubt she’d be sober enough to remember I was here anyway.”

“True.” My father didn’t particularly care that my mother drank vodka tonics a solid eight hours out of every day. She was still a beautiful woman in her sixties and came from a family with old money. That was about all that mattered.

“You were right. About Adele.”

Immediately, his face flattened in disgust. “I knew it.”

But I lifted a hand. “Just hear me out. This won’t take long.” When he nodded, I settled back into the chair and propped one foot up on the opposite knee. “She was in my class last fall, and the night I met her, I didn’t recognize her as my student. She’s the first woman I touched after Diana died. The only woman.”

“What the hell makes you think I want to hear this?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t really care if you want to. But you’ll listen regardless.”

Oh, he did not like that. Surprisingly though, he simply ground his teeth and kept quiet.

“I stayed away from her for a while after I found out who she was. But we did carry on a sexual relationship while she was in my class. It never affected her grade because she’s incredibly intelligent, as you well know since you understand the magnitude of the scholarship that she’s on. The grade she received is the grade she deserved. Any other professor in that department would concur with what I gave her.” Then I dropped my foot from my knee and leaned forward. “I’m telling you this because she’s the woman I love. And she’s the only person I want to spend my life with.”

“How sweet,” he drawled, looking a little pale in his cheeks.

Then I laughed. “No, I don’t know that anyone would accuse Adele and me of being sweet. But it is real. And she’s only part of the reason that I left Northern. Of course I wanted to pursue a relationship with her, but I also wanted out from under you.”

My father shook his head slowly, like he couldn’t fathom what I was telling him. “And now that I know, you think this will help? She’ll have a hard time affording her tuition without that scholarship.”

“Oh, she’s keeping it. You won’t touch her standing at that school.”

He laughed then too, and I hated how much it sounded like my own. “You’re certifiable if you think I won’t do anything with this information.”

“Go ahead.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“I said,” I repeated slowly, “go ahead. Please, tell everyone at that school that your only son fucked his student. How will they look at
you
once they know? How will they look at the Easton legacy once that comes to light?”

When his eyes shuttered, I almost crowed in triumph. My father would take this to the grave. His own pride would be the greatest way to secure his confidentiality.

“I will marry Adele someday. Hopefully sooner, rather than later. Then she’ll carry the Easton name too. As will our children. She’s beautiful and fierce and smart and one of the strongest women I’ve
ever
met. Whether you see her again is up to you and Mother. But I won’t call you. I won’t stop by, and I won’t ask to be invited over for holidays. The only way I’ll walk back through these doors is if you can accept my relationship with her, knowing exactly where it started.”

Then I stood, pausing only to make sure he wasn’t going to keel over from a heart attack. He didn’t.

“Goodbye, Father.”

All he did was watch me walk out the door.

I whistled on the way back to my car, only taking a second to start it up and pull through their gated driveway before I hit the Bluetooth button on my steering wheel to initiate a call.

“Nathan, my boy,” Max said in greeting. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, what would you say about bringing over some more cigars?”

“I’d say yes. What time would you like me there?”

I paused to glance in my rearview mirror, just to see my parents’ house get smaller and smaller. “Before I give you a time, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

My stomach tightened. “If I wanted to tell you a story in confidence, can I trust that you’ll keep it between us? Even if it might make you doubt me at the beginning of it?”

Max was quiet on the other end. “Is this story illegal?”

“No.” Unethical? Maybe. But not illegal.

“Okay. Then I can be there in an hour.”

I hung up the phone and drove home, feeling better than I had in months.

I
t had been
a week since I’d seen Nathan and I still felt like absolute garbage.

Over and over, I’d replayed our scene in the bathroom. Half of the time, I kicked myself in the ass. I should’ve run to him, leeched on to him, promised to never leave him.

Even now, as I sat nursing the hot cocoa Mrs. Jennings had made for me and Scarlet, I wished to be anywhere else.

“Why is your mom so nice?” I asked as I pulled out the flask I kept buried in my purse, pouring a shot’s worth into the hot cocoa.

Scarlet eyed the flask. “What’s that?”

“Rum. Want some?” I asked, as I had already begun pouring.

Scarlet eyed the rum and gave me a look, like she knew I was slowly corrupting her. But then she sipped the dark rum-spiked chocolate and gave me a nod. “Okay, this
is
good.”

“I don’t trust people who don’t need alcohol to get through the holidays.” I tipped the flask back as I drank what little was left.

“Technically, the holidays are over. You go back to school soon.”

“Don’t remind me.” I grabbed a pillow and brought it to my chest. “I’ll have to seriously look into renting an apartment now.”

“Are you sure you’re not going back to him?”

I stared into the thick dark chocolate as I thought. “I don’t know. Sometimes I miss him so much that I can’t breathe. Other times, I’m not sure we’re good for one another. I never hooked up with him intending for him to be more than that. And then he was, and…” I took a noisy sip. “And then all this crap happened and maybe I should’ve stayed. Fought harder for him to remember I was there.”

“But maybe your absence will remind him of what he’s missing?” Scarlet asked.

“It’s been seven weeks since I left his house and I don’t feel like we’re moving in the same direction. It’s like we’re both just revolving around the issue, and I can’t figure out how to come back together. I’d have to let go of my hurt. And believe that he wouldn’t do it again.”

“Has he ever hurt you like that?”

I shrugged. “Early on, he had moments where he shut me out. But I hadn’t let my feelings get the best of me yet, so it didn’t affect me the way it did after nearly a year of living together.”

“Well, I’ve had one serious boyfriend my whole life so I can’t speak with much experience, but I would probably do the same thing.” She sipped her hot chocolate and seemed to be relaxing a bit from the alcohol. “I ran from Leo once, but not before I said things I didn’t mean.”

“I meant the things I’ve said. I may be called a slut, a hussy, a bitch, but I have never been called a liar.” I drank the rest of my hot chocolate and set it on the nightstand with a clunk before I lay down on the bed. “I love him. But he deserted me in a time when I needed him.”

“Did you tell him you needed him?”

“Of course not. But he should’ve known.”

“Again, I’m no expert on men, but they’re not mind readers.”

Scarlet didn’t know, didn’t understand what had happened with Nathan. And for the sake of having someone—a
female
someone—to talk to about
female
things, I decided to confide in her. “I had a miscarriage in October.”

Scarlet’s eyes widened in shock and I was grateful for Leo and his confidence. I didn’t have many friends, but Scarlet not knowing about my miscarriage proved I had a good one in Leo. “Wow. I’m so sorry.”

Besides the doctor’s office, it was the first time anyone had said that to me about the miscarriage. I nodded my thanks, because I didn’t want to speak the word. “And Nathan really wanted the baby. He was thrilled. When I told him I was pregnant, you would’ve thought I told him he won the lottery.”

Scarlet made a sound like an “aww” at that and I nodded. It had been cute. His excitement for the baby had been the one thing that kept me from losing my shit. “How did you feel about it?” Scarlet asked, as if she’d been reading my mind.

“Scared. I’m still young. I have shit I want to do with my life before babies happen. And my relationship with Nathan was still so young, too.”

“Did Nathan know?”

I chewed my lip. “I know we talked about it, but he assured me he’d take care of me. Of us.” Absently, I rubbed a hand down my belly. The slight roundness that had been there months ago was gone. I paused my movement and clenched a fist. “And after I lost the baby, he was gone. And when he was there, he was patronizing or never noticed my presence. I wandered his house, feeling like I didn’t really belong there. I only lived there for Nathan, and when he wasn’t around it was like I lived with his dead wife’s memory.”

“His wife died?”

“Yeah. A handful of years back. They bought the house he lives in, decorated it together. It made me feel unwelcome, admiring the wallpaper she put up, doing homework at the table she bought, sleeping with her husband in her bed.”

“Hm…” Scarlet said, tapping a finger on her chin. “After his wife died, who did he have around him?”

“I don’t know?” I gave Scarlet a look—how the hell was I supposed to know that? It was years before me.

“I mean, his family, or her family. Are they close?”

“No.” I thought of Elias and Nathan’s disgust for him. “Her family blames him and his family doesn’t seem like the warm, sympathetic type.”

“So he likely mourned that in private. All alone.”

I saw where Scarlet was going, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept that he’d pushed me away by pulling himself physically away from me. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” I said flatly, rolling onto my stomach.

“Because you know I’m right. Nathan mourned the loss of his wife alone, and when you had a miscarriage, he mourned it alone again. That’s how he works.”

“Shut up, Scarlet.” I pulled a pillow over the back of my head. “Go bury your head in some dissection documentary.”

“I just think you need to see it from his perspective.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, but felt like drinking away this conversation. When my phone buzzed from the nightstand, I pushed the pillow off of me and grabbed it.

I should not reply with a yes. I should figure out what the hell I was going to do with my life from here forward. But after that conversation with Scarlet, I realized I was even more confused than I had been. So, before I could change my mind, I shot out a quick “Yes” along with the name of a bar near Nathan’s house.

* * *

“
S
lim
?” I asked him as I walked into the bar and spotted him sitting alone at one end of it. He was nursing something the color of dark honey and gestured for me to take the seat beside him.

“You’re slim. Legs up to your eyeballs, especially with those.” His eyes traveled slowly down the length of my leather-clad legs to the black stilettos I wore. When his eyes came back up, I felt myself warm.

I couldn’t believe I was doing this, sitting next to Nathan’s enemy, about to have a drink with him. But when the bartender came over, I ordered a whiskey sour and pulled off my puffy coat—the coat Nathan had bought me the previous winter—and set it on the back of the chair.

“What have you been doing?” he asked as he took me in. The gray and white speckled sweater I wore was oversized, to balance the way the leather leggings hugged my legs like a second skin.

I watched him a moment and tucked my tongue into my cheek. The way he asked it made me think he knew I wasn’t staying at Nathan’s anymore. But I didn’t feel like talking about Nathan, so I said, “Being a lazy asshole over winter break.” The sweater dipped over my shoulder and I yanked it back up. “I have classes again soon, so I’m trying to enjoy the freedom while I can.”

“Ah.” His eyes were dark, and he searched me intensely. “Do you plan on staying in Boston after graduation.”

“Yes. It’s home.” I hadn’t considered staying anywhere else. “Where’s home for you?”

He lifted his shoulders noncommittally. “I’m still finding my place.”

The bartender placed the drink on a black napkin and pushed it toward me. “Aren’t you a little old to still be looking for your place?”

“Aren’t you a little young to settle down here?”

“Touché.”

He motioned for the bartender to bring him another drink. “Booker’s,” he said, pushing his glass.

The bartender nodded and then paused, holding up the glass. “On the rocks? With water?”

Elias stared at the bartender a moment and I watched the poor guy visibly shrink under Elias’ stare. “Water, on the side.”

After the bartender stepped away I cocked my head to the side. “What was that about?”

“Have you ever had Booker’s bourbon?” When I shook my head, he said, “You’ll have to try it.”

Within seconds, a glass appeared in front of Elias and he pushed it to me. “You first.”

It felt dangerous, to be drinking with Elias. He was so large that he took up not just the space of his seat, but he was encroaching on mine too.

Bringing the glass to my lips, I met his eyes over the rim. His lips curved just a little under his beard as I tipped the glass back and took a taste.

“What the fuck?” I sputtered, setting the glass down hard and pounding back the water the bartender had given him. I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth as I glared at him. “What
is
that?”

“Bourbon,” Elias said simply, picking up the glass and taking a larger sip than I had. “Robust, high proof bourbon.”

“You drink that?” I asked, taking a sip of my much calmer whiskey sour. “And don’t breathe fire?”

“Who says I don’t breathe fire?” he asked, his eyes dark and glittering under the low bar light. I hadn’t realized how close he was until I felt the heat of his breath on mine.

I loved Nathan. Loved him passionately. But loving him hadn’t meant putting on blinders toward every other good-looking guy that I passed. And Elias? Well, he took good looking and wrapped it in a barbed wire kind of danger. From the muscles that seemed to grow from every single one of his body parts to the dark of his skin and hair and eyes, he had an undercurrent of something risky, like he could talk a woman into doing very bad things without even saying a word.

The bartender set another drink in front of me and I picked it up, needing something to distract my hands.

“Adele, tell me—what do you like to do for fun?”

I held up my whiskey and gave what I thought to be an obvious look. “Drink.”

“But that’s not all.”

“I like to write sometimes,” I said, not intending to say that. “Nothing serious. Mostly scribbles,” I amended, rushing on. The liquor was hitting me more quickly than I realized.

“That’s it?” He seemed even closer to me now.

I don’t know why, but I wanted to impress him. “I make a mean café au lait.”

“A coffee?” He shook his head and leaned in. “Oh, Adele. But you haven’t lived.”

I pushed him. Gently, just a hand on his pecs, pushing him lightly. But I yanked my hand immediately back like I’d burned it. “My sense of accomplishment differs from yours apparently.”

“You’re so young. You could do so much, see so many things.”

“I’m young and I still can. I’m not in a rush to see the world. I can barely navigate the T.”

He laughed. “I’ll admit, the T is not the most easily-navigable method of public transportation.” He tossed the rest of his whiskey back like a fucking champ and I hated admiring him for it. He gestured to the bartender for a refill and he obliged quickly. “New York, while dirty and occupied with assholes, has one of the best public transportation systems in the country.”

“Is that where you’re from?” The bartender set another whiskey sour in front of me on Elias’ encouragement, and I found myself drinking it even though a tiny voice told me I was only going to find myself in even deeper trouble.

“I lived there a couple years. But I’ve lived in other places longer.” He was secretive, but still managed to pry information out of me. The balance of give and take was off, with me telling him much more than I knew about him, but part of me was a little bit afraid to ask those questions. I didn’t really want to get to know him that well, especially since I was still loyal to Nathan.

When I came back from the bathroom, my legs were much wobblier than they’d been when I’d walked in. So wobbly, in fact, that I stumbled when I reached the bar. Elias caught me around the waist and held me firm. “I should go,” I stuttered, inches from his face.

He waited a beat longer than he needed to before nodding curtly and setting me upright.

I pulled out some cash, but Elias placed a large, warm hand on mine. “No.”

Scrunching my eyebrows together, I pulled out the cash anyway. “No yourself. I’m paying for my booze.” This was
not
a date, I reminded myself. If I let him pay for it, we both might think otherwise.

“Let me walk you out.”

“Guess I can’t stop you,” I joked, trying to navigate through the busy bar. At one point I wobbled so much that Elias wrapped his fingers around my waist, leading me outside.

His hands on my waist made me all tingly, but also a little sick. It simply didn’t feel right to have another man’s hands on me.