Solace in Scandal (24 page)

Their groans blended as she took him inside her.

‘Sexy siren,’ Alex murmured. His gloved hands swept up her back as she began a slow, tortuous rhythm.

Elena’s senses went into overdrive. The hoodie was caught between them and the zipper abraded their skin as she humped up and down. The feeling was raw and electric. The cold tab of the zipper caught in the crease of her leg, and she let out a cry. She could barely stand the stimulation.

‘You told me you liked seeing this hoodie wrapped around me,’ she struggled to say.

‘Hm’ was all he managed to get out. His hands were cupping her bouncing breasts and his face was buried in her hair.

‘What … what were you really going to say when I asked you? Why do you like seeing this oversized old thing on me?’

His teeth raked over her throat. ‘Because it says you’re mine.’

From that point on, there was no more talking. Only touching. And kissing. And deep, fast penetration. Alex held Elena tightly as she established the rhythm and the pressure. The weight bench grew slippery as their hips rubbed back and forth. She was taking all of him, as far as he could go. She heard the sounds they were making, the sighs, the groans and the squeaks against the vinyl.

Her thighs burned. She was his. All his.

He pulled the hood up over her head as he kissed her. It focused her solely on him. For her, there was no other. It was the two of them, alone and always.

The supple leather stroked over her. The zipper bit and caressed. But most of all she felt him. Her Alex.

Her lone wolf.

Her body suddenly arched. She pressed down hard, her body milking his as she thrust her breasts into the air. He cupped her possessively, the leather capturing her nipple and pressing against it tightly. His thighs bunched, and then he was jerking up into her.

They came so hard, the barbell clattered in its holder. The weights rang loudly as the tremors continued.

At long last, the tempest died. She leaned her head on Alex’s shoulder and fought for air. His arms locked around her, holding her on his lap. He cupped the back of her head and whispered soft, sexy words.

Elena’s body went slack, but her brain came back to life. Synapses fired and thoughts sprang up. Hopes for the future. Concerns about today. Solutions for all their obstacles. The ideas were brilliant but, in her state of bliss, fleeting.

‘How are we going to handle this?’ she asked. ‘We have to make this work.’

He leaned back against the bar. ‘We’ve already been outed. I could deny it, but –’

‘Don’t.’

He peeled back the hood to look at her face. Her hair was loose and wild. ‘You need to think about this.’

‘I have. I want them to know. I want everyone to know.’

‘Elena,’ he cautioned.

‘I’m sure.’

He shook his head, unconvinced. ‘You’re getting involved with an ex-con. People are going to think the absolute worst of you.’

‘They thought that when I was a student whose father had just died.’ Lifting her head, she looked him in the eye. ‘Let them see us together. Let them talk. I don’t care what they say.’

‘I do. I can’t protect you.’ His expression turned fierce and proprietary – and maybe just a bit panicked. ‘You’re going to be hurt.’

‘I’ve been hurt before, and I’m not going to let you take on all of it.’

‘Baby …’

‘What matters is the two of us.’ She gave him a fast kiss. ‘Come on, Wolfe. Take me out. Show me your New York.’

* * *

He took her out to dinner at Jean-Georges in the Trump Hotel. Elena felt the stares and heard the whispers as they entered the dining room. The attention bothered her, but, seeing Alex’s stern face, she could tell it bothered him more. There were massive picture windows on two sides, and it felt like they were in a fishbowl. When the waiter tried to seat them at a table out in the middle of the room, Alex demurred. They chose a cubbyhole table off to the side instead.

Elena was happy she’d accepted the clothes he’d bought for her. If she hadn’t been wearing the classy burgundy cocktail dress, she would have felt out of place. The restaurant and all its diners practically dripped money, but even amongst his peers Alex commanded attention.

The waiter and sommelier were respectful, and Chef Jean-Georges himself even came out to greet them. Yet all around them diners were taking furtive looks. Some were even texting.

She took his hand. It felt stiff and cold. She squeezed tightly. ‘What’s good here?’

He blinked at the menu as if he hadn’t realised it was in front of him. ‘Everything.’

His attention focused on her, and his shoulders relaxed. ‘Order whatever you’d like.’

She chose the scallops with caramelised cauliflower, while he went with the black sea bass crusted with nuts. They sat quietly as a waiter poured their wine. The table they’d chosen wasn’t exactly hidden in a corner. They sat together on a bench seat, tucked in the cubbyhole but facing out into the room. They had a wonderful view of the trees and small flower garden outside, yet it also put them in the situation of facing the crowd. Only the waiter serving them hid them from curious onlookers.

‘Did you play football?’ Elena asked as she took a sip of the Chardonnay. It sat nicely on her tongue. He’d chosen well.

Alex frowned. ‘Where did that come from?’

She crossed her legs. ‘I’m trying to figure out what you were like growing up.’

She was also trying to distract him and make him relax. People were still stealing looks, but most had gone back to their meals. She was nervous about showing her face, but they couldn’t constantly be on guard.

‘I can see you being a quarterback,’ she decided.

He finally settled back in his seat. ‘I played lacrosse.’

‘But you were the captain, right?’

The corner of his mouth twitched. ‘Somebody had to be.’

She rolled her foot in circles underneath the table. A woman at a table way over in the corner had just pointed at them.

‘I just can’t picture you as a computer nerd,’ she confessed.

That got almost the hint of a smile out of him. His gaze flicked to the far table, and the nosy woman snapped forward in her chair. Elena relaxed a little when he laid his arm protectively along the back of the bench seat. ‘I was an only child, and I bored easily. To keep myself entertained, I took things apart and put them together again. Computer games and programming were a natural extension.’

His brow smoothed and his look turned pensive. ‘My curiosity got me into hot water more than a few times with my parents.’

It was the first time she’d ever heard him talk about them. ‘When did they pass away?’

‘When I was in high school.’

A difficult time for any teen. And he’d been left with that monster of a grandfather? She laid her hand on his leg.

‘I’m sorry.’ The touch was hidden by the crisp white tablecloth, but she didn’t care who might see.

That pensive look deepened. The table setting was military precise, but he realigned his salad fork.

Her fingers tightened around the delicate wine glass, and she set it down before she broke it. The woman over in the corner had stopped trying to steal glances, but her friend was talking into her phone. She had a straight-on view, and she wasn’t even trying to be discreet.

Elena smiled politely when the waiter approached with their food, but she forgot everything else when she saw what the chef had prepared. She didn’t want to appear unsophisticated, but it was hard not to stare at the creations. Both dishes looked like works of art.

The seafood tasted like culinary art, too.

Jean-Georges was out of range for poor college students, and it was her first experience at a three-Michelin-stars restaurant. She wasn’t going to waste the experience worrying about gawkers.

She took a bite that melted in her mouth. ‘From what I’ve read, you started Wolfe Pack while you were still in college.’

‘I didn’t think I was being entrepreneurial. It was another project built out of boredom, but it kept growing. More and more pieces were fitting together in my head.’

‘Enough so that you left school?’

‘It wasn’t a decision that was easily accepted at the time. Believe me.’ He buttered a piece of black bread that had come with his meal. ‘But I knew I was onto something. I was determined to see where it would take me.’

She’d seen that unflinching determination. It had brought him far but, truth be told, it hadn’t been that big of a risk. He’d had old Wolfe money to fall back upon.

Or maybe that was exactly what he’d been trying to get away from.

‘I think you’ve done OK for yourself.’

Their gazes locked, grey to brown. For a moment, she thought she’d put her foot in her mouth. There was the scandal. He’d spent time in prison. Yet the molecules in the air between them started vibrating. She felt a pull, almost like gravity, in his direction.

His voice dropped low. ‘Yeah, I really have.’

His leg brushed against hers. His eyes twinkled with secret knowledge, but the light in them went steady when he focused on someone beyond her.

Elena straightened, concerned. She looked to her left, but it wasn’t what she expected. The press hadn’t gained entrance and there were no protestors with signs. Her stomach tightened all the same. A tall, buxom blonde was headed towards their table. She recognised the woman instantly. It was Barbie, the movie star from the website pictures.

‘Hello, Alex.’ The woman’s voice was sultry and cultured.

‘Barbara.’ He stood and took the hand she offered. She kept coming and he greeted her with a kiss to the cheek.

‘I’m sorry to interrupt.’ Her mouth curled upwards when she glanced in Elena’s direction, but the smile held the warmth of a reptile. ‘Hello.’

Elena returned the smile through gritted teeth. ‘Hello.’

The blonde had bombshell written all over her. She dressed to highlight her assets, and she knew just how to pose to best show them off. Her dress even sounded sexy as the silk brushed against Alex’s suit.

‘I’d heard you were in town,’ he said. ‘A new movie?’

‘Yes.’ The expression on the woman’s face brightened. ‘I was hoping we’d run into each other. Why haven’t you called?’

Elena began to tap her foot underneath the table. She was sitting right here!

‘We always had so much fun together,’ Barbara pouted.

It didn’t take a brain surgeon to understand what kind of fun that was.

An ill-tempered light came into Alex’s eyes and he gestured to the table. ‘Barbara, this is Elena.’

‘Bardot. I know.’ The condescension in the woman’s voice couldn’t have been clearer. She lifted her chin and her hair moved stiffly. ‘I’m a friend of Candace.’

Candace. Her stepmother. Elena’s jaw clenched. The plastic blonde was about the same age, she thought cattily. Although it was hard to believe that this woman was still friendly with her stepmother after her fall from grace. No money, no brunches. No cash, no wardrobe. Last she’d heard, the Bardot apartment had been taken away and the family had moved in with relatives. Candace had taken her misfortune much harder than Yvonne had. The loss of her husband hadn’t affected her as much as the loss of wealth. She’d whined and cried but had taken no steps to support herself.

The elegant movie star bit her lip and looked back and forth between the two of them. ‘Sorry if I’m interrupting a business meeting.’

Elena cocked her head.
What?

That muscle ticked in Alex’s jaw. He was not happy. ‘We’re here on a date.’

‘Really?’ The woman patted her hair and swivelled her hips. She pressed her hand to her cleavage, but she quickly realised that her former lover’s attention was no longer on her. She followed his gaze to Elena, and her astute eyes narrowed. ‘You are very pretty.’

Elena was taken aback. ‘Thank you.’

She bit the side of her cheek and lied. ‘I’m a big fan.’

Barbara’s lips pursed, and her gaze swung back and forth between the two of them. ‘I apologise for the confusion, but I heard that the two of you worked together on that Fonzie thing.’

Elena had taken a sip of wine, but she nearly choked on it. Half of her wanted to laugh and the other was outraged. ‘Excuse me?’

‘We just met recently,’ Alex said, his voice like glass.

Barbara’s expression went innocent. ‘Honestly? Because Candace swears that Randolph and his daughter talked all the time about the markets and that type of thing. Maybe I just assumed …’

They hadn’t talked all the time. One call every three months or so was not often. So what if they did talk about economics? It was the one thing they still had in common.

Elena’s fists curled. Everything inside her propelled her forward. She didn’t know what she intended to do, but she started to get up.

Alex’s hand settled heavily on her shoulder.

‘Barbara, I think your date is trying to get your attention.’

The woman looked over her shoulder. Almost as if a switch was thrown, she arched her back and waved flirtily. ‘Sorry, that’s my director.’

She was smiling when she turned to say goodbye. ‘Have a nice dinner. I’m glad you’re out, Ax.’

She moved in for another peck, but he pulled back. The look on the woman’s face faltered, and fear flashed momentarily in her eyes. She stepped back quickly, but gathered herself enough to walk back slinkily to her table. Alex stood stiffly, watching her go. His face was hard and the air around him bubbled. With that dark five o’clock shadow, he looked dangerous.

Elena took a sip of wine that went more smoothly down her throat. She looked around discreetly, hoping few had heard the exchange. She was mortified to find people staring again.

He held out his hand. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

She caught it fast. ‘Yes, please.’

* * *

‘I’m sorry,’ he said in the car.

‘It’s not your fault,’ she murmured as she watched the lights outside the Bentley go by.

‘She was a shiny bauble to have on my arm as I went to society events.’ He spread his legs wider in the back seat and raked a hand through his hair. It had grown somewhat, but still seemed tussled. ‘And she was an easy lay.’

Elena flinched.

He caught her hand. ‘I didn’t say a good one.’