Unbind (41 page)

I pushed that story to the very back of my mind. Love is blind and all that. To be honest, I didn’t want to know a thing about any of it. I just wanted him.

Yet, I had a kind of gnawing curiosity that wouldn’t be quelled…

“You were out riding for a while?” I whispered into his face.

His mouth twisted. “I forgot how much I missed it and I helped Dirk muck out afterwards.”

“That’s why you smell weird! Eugh!”

“So!”

He yanked my face toward his and between kisses he remarked, “I love chestnuts.”

We both moaned into our kisses and I wanted his body again, tugging at his hair while his lips swept down to search for the skin of my neck.

Jennifer marched in to alert us lunch was only 15 minutes’ away and I didn’t mistake the grimace she shot my way—nothing she’d said had lessened my love for him.

Cai and I left the room together, heading to the bedroom so he could get out of his outdoor clothes and have a hot shower. Meanwhile, I laid on the bed and got to thinking. How could a rose be the cause of so much upset?

Thankfully, thinking was displaced by passion the moment he stepped out of the bathroom.

THAT SAME NIGHT, I found myself plagued by an old complaint—restless sleep. I woke around five a.m. to find Cai’s heavy arm slung around my waist, his chin on my shoulder. I turned to stare at him and still couldn’t believe he was mine. Under layers of sheets, blankets and comforters, I rolled into his arms and rested my head on his warm chest, trying to find sleep again.

“It’s early, Chloe. Go back to sleep, baby.”

“Love you.”

He grunted and nodded off again. I stayed there for quite some time, listening to the rhythm of his heart and the steady way he breathed in sleep. Yet I couldn’t find rest.

I’d meddled in Kayla’s affairs and told her that the man she was in love with was a waste of space. How did I know Cai wasn’t a murderer, a liar, a disaster waiting to happen? Was I too trusting or blind? Or was Jennifer leading me astray?

Why did she take me into Claudia’s room? She never showed me anything except how sparse it was, and then she told me the story.

In his dreams, Cai began twitching beneath me. I didn’t move in case I abruptly frightened him from sleep. Anyway, he often had vivid dreams and usually I would remember it as a type of dream of my own—whispering in his ear that I was with him and it was okay—Cai returning to sleep softly alongside me. This time, I was fully wide awake as he slept in this irritated state. I lifted my head slightly to watch him and his teeth were grinding so hard, it was a wonder he had any enamel left.

“No,” he whispered. “No.”

I continued to watch him, wondering when the best time to wake him was.

“This isn’t happening,” a hoarse voice not like his said. “I don’t believe it.”

I stroked my hand across his face but he was deep under, his teeth still grinding intermittently. “Mom, don’t do it.”

I acted quickly after that, grabbing his arms to wrap them tighter around me. I kissed his lips and told him, “Cai, wake up. It’s a dream. Baby, wake up.”

His eyes shot open and tears spilled out immediately. “No, no.”

“Oh god, Cai. I’m here.” My heart shattered for him, I’d never seen him so upset.

He buried his tears in my hair and cried. I held his arms tight and soothed him. After a while, we moved so he was wrapped around me from behind, his body clutching mine. I felt imprisoned by his limbs but he needed me not to break and I wouldn’t.

“We need to leave, this morning. I can’t be here, Chloe.”

“I understand. I love you, you know? I really love you.”

“What did I say… in my dreams?” He sounded shaky, still.

“You said,” I paused, “you said
Mom, don’t do it.
”

He gasped at my back and shuddered, tears clogging his throat. “No.”

“Why do you keep saying no?” I asked, worried for our lives.

“The truth. I want to tell you the truth, Chloe. I’m just not ready yet.”

I threaded my fingers through his and kissed his hands until I couldn’t kiss him anymore. “I trust you. I don’t care what anyone else says, I trust you with my whole heart.”

He turned my head and kissed my mouth clumsily, tears still spilling from his eyes. Two hands squeezed my breasts, hard. The undying bind between us circulated deep and hot inside my belly. I rubbed up against his erection, lusting for his masculine power, my body the filter for his distress to scatter.

“Yes, Cai! I need you.”

His hands were frantic on me, running everywhere. “I need you so goddamned much, Chloe. So much.”

He left bite marks all along my collarbone and shoulders while his hands left imprints on my breasts, stomach and bottom. He lifted my thigh back and pressed his cock inside me.

“I’m desperate. Don’t leave me.” His voice sounded like it had in that dream—not belonging to a boy or even a man—a broken spirit.

He kissed me, tears still spilling down my face, both mine and his. He forced a path deep inside me and pinched my nipples while he bit my mouth.

He used me how I should be used. I needed to take his pain and hold it within me, keep it safe, because I could nurse it secure in the knowledge he could one day take it all away again.

“Fuck me, Cai. I’m your lady.”

“Baby, you’re my heart.”

His teeth tugged on my raw nipples until I was covered in more of his marks. His hand squeezed my buttock until I squealed, “Yes!”

He slapped the back of my thigh and I arched, “Yes!”

“Fuck baby, fuck. I love you so much.” He slapped my clit and I lost it, coming around him with such force, gripping the cock burrowing inside me. He yelled my name and without shame. I screamed his even though it meant our voices might carry through the corridors. Our bodies were screaming hot, laced so tight we knew no separation.

His arms clamped around my chest again, his hips slowed their pace to work us down. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. I need to feel what you feel. I need it as much as you need to give it to me.”

He began shaking so hard, I turned to look at him, but he wasn’t crying anymore. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Chlo.”

“Love has no reason. No choice. It just is.”

He wrapped me in his strong, breathtaking embrace and we fell asleep, the dawn missing us, our love sedating us until noon. We slipped away directly after waking and packing, leaving an apology note for Jennifer and a thank-you card for Claire.

BACK at the apartment, we sank ourselves in the big tub of our bathroom. I felt safe again and so did he. I privately wondered whether Jennifer had an ulterior motive in taking us up to Connecticut for Christmas. It had certainly rattled Cai, and me. Yet seeing him lose his cool in the wake of a nightmare had enthralled and awoken a side to me I had forgotten about—the side that craved and yearned for perfect imperfection. You know, just a moment of sheer, heart-stopping clarity that abounded from seemingly nowhere.

“When you went riding yesterday, she told me all her suspicions.”

“The missing painting… the bullet shells, the time I was missing in action. Blah, blah, blah.” He reeled off wearily.

“Umm-hmm. Why I didn’t believe a word she said, I don’t know. I just don’t like that house Cai, I want you to get rid of it before we marry. Agreed?”

He kissed my wounded shoulder, easing the burn of his imprint. “I do want to get rid of it. Lord knows I do, Chloe. It’s just that if I did, where would Claire and Dirk go?”

I felt sheer exasperation. “Retire? For fuck’s sake, Cai… they’re old! Give them some money to retire and everybody’s happy.”

“Listen… they’ve never known anywhere else. I get the feeling they’ve seen too many things in that house to find themselves at ease in the outside world, you get me? Plus if I sell that place, Jennifer will fuck me up, okay? She can’t let go of it. She can’t get past what happened. I know it’s difficult for her and I really don’t need the money, so whatever.”

I took a deep breath, trying to be the more reasonable one. I could tell he was irate, his breathing heavy. “Cai, how could she possibly fuck you up?”

“Jennifer has too many contacts in this city. I’d never work again if she had anything to do with it.”

“Oh, god. Listen,” I glanced at him fairly briefly, unable to keep eye contact less he saw how much I feared or suspected. “That rose. I need to know…”

He sighed dejectedly. “Honest to god, I don’t know who sent it to your desk in London, I don’t. I certainly didn’t.”

“It wasn’t just one,” I admitted, teasing my fingers through his. “There were more… and in different shades. Orange, pink and red. It got me worked up enough to ring round lots of men and even visit a florist to see if she knew anything about it.”

“A florist?” He chuckled.

“Yeah, I’m ashamed to admit… she said a woman could have sent it. Not only men send flowers apparently.”

He kissed my temple. “How did it get there? That place is secure!”

“Exactly! Beats me. I phoned reception and they had absolutely no idea! They even said they hardly ever get flower deliveries in that place!”

We still weren’t making eye contact, but from his voice he was just as genuinely perplexed as I was.

“Tell me about your mother, Cai.” I ran my hands over his forearms, trying to let him know I was with him, no matter what he told me. Trying not to sound too Freudian…

“My mom was… really sick. You know, mental health issues. Sharp objects, medicines… were all locked away. My father stood guard at her door nearly all his waking hours, keeping her from harm. Sometimes I crept in when she was alone and found her trying to paint, but she struggled to, and I don’t know why. She didn’t have the arthritis like my grandmother and Jennifer. You wouldn’t have seen with all the snow covering the house but that place is called
Sub Rosa
. That same rose you got sent once grew there before I destroyed it… you see my mom was obsessed with capturing it just right. She wasted years painting that one rose over and over and over again.

“Jennifer might claim that my mother finally managed to paint something… but I don’t know where it went, or who took it. If she didn’t tear it up… it was only because she died before being able to destroy it. My father warned me the rose had bad associations for my mom. Ultimately, if that painting is all we have left of her… it might be worth millions. If it is hidden within that house, then, perhaps that is another reason why I shouldn’t sell.”

“That house gives me the creeps, Cai. I don’t like it. Please don’t make me go back there.” I couldn’t shake off a foreboding sense of dread, like a cold hand wrapped around my throat.

“We should never have gone but at least you know now what I’m dealing with. I don’t like that place. In fact I fucking loathe it. Now we’ve been there, now you’ve seen it, we can hopefully forget all about it? I’d like to, anyway.”

“For now, I’d like that too. This is meant to be the holidays not ghost hunting season.”

“I know what you mean, baby,” he said, curling his arms and legs tight around mine.

My mind racing, a random thought took hold. “The marriage clause to your inheritance… was strange, don’t you think? Given your mother never married?”

“It was an old-fashioned clause, but my mom inherited at the age of 27 so she wasn’t exactly a baby, like I was.”

“I think it’s archaic… a trust fund on the proviso of marriage.”

“I don’t know, it kinda makes sense if you think about it. Why would a young man need all that stuff unless he had a family? You know? Even so, I don’t really give a damn about that money. It’s tainted. Didn’t ever bring them any happiness… why would it bring me any?”

Who did he really cry for? His mother? Or himself? How did he feel? I wanted to ask but I didn’t know how. He sounded emotional sometimes and at others, indifferent and cold, pragmatic and straightforward. Had he been through therapy? Just how awful was his parent’s relationship?

“Does it make you sad talking about it?”