Читать книгу Unravel Me - Lynn Montagano - Страница 8

The lush Scottish countryside flew by in a green blur. I hung my arm out the car window, skimming my hand along the warm breeze. The sun shone bright in the sky, fending off the wisps of clouds that tried to spoil its celestial show. For me, this sky was far more beautiful than any sunny day in Orlando.

“Now are you going to tell me what we’re doing?”

“Nope.”

I looked over at Alastair. He flashed a brilliant smile and gave the car a little more gas. The Mercedes’ engine growled, kicking into higher gear. I did enjoy watching him drive. Especially out here in the middle of nowhere. His fluid control and relaxed stance behind the wheel added another layer of hotness to his already scorching exterior.

The car rolled to a stop on a dusty patch at the side of the road. A large meadow spread out to our left. Aside from various clusters of trees, there was nothing to see for miles.

“We’ve arrived.”

Leaving the engine idling, Alastair got out of the car. I followed him, spurred on by a healthy dose of curiosity.

“Where are we?”

“Carbeth.”

“And what’s so special about this place?”

He turned, a goofy grin plastered on his face. “Nothing. It’s a bit out of the way and I thought it would be a good place for your lesson.”

Now I was completely confused. Alastair kept that ridiculous smile aimed in my direction.

“You’re going to learn how to drive my sexy little car.”

“What?”

A loud laugh echoed through the breeze. “Don’t look so excited. It’s really simple.”

I folded my arms. “Why do you want me to drive your car?”

“No reason. Just curious to see you behind the wheel.”

“I told you I can’t drive a stick.”

“Yes, I know. Hence the lesson. Get in.”

“So bossy.”

I settled in behind the wheel and adjusted the seat so I could reach the pedals. Alastair folded his lean frame onto the passenger seat and grinned.

“Looking good, doll face.”

“Oh my God. What did I say about faking the American accent?”

He chuckled. “Are you ready to learn?”

“I suppose.”

“Alright. Press down on the brake and clutch. Put the gear in first and release the emergency brake.”

“You might want to buckle up,” I muttered, doing as he instructed.

“Now, gently give it some gas and lift your foot off the clutch slowly.”

The car rumbled beneath me as I pressed on the accelerator. Tightening my grip on the steering wheel, I carefully lifted my foot off the clutch. The car stuttered a bit before rolling forward.

“That’s it. Give it a little more.”

Taking a quick glance to my right, I eased the car onto the road. Stay on the left, stay on the left. Driving on the wrong side of the road while sitting in the wrong side of the car was a tad disorienting. I kept repeating my little mantra as I accelerated, shifting into second. I’d only driven a stick shift a few times. My dad tried to teach me when I was sixteen. He thought it would be beneficial to know ‘just in case.’

Okay, this might be easier than I thought. The road didn’t have any major curves as far as I could see. I eased the car into third, feeling more confident I wouldn’t end up upside down in a ditch. Adrenaline gave me an added boost of courage.

“Ready, Holden?”

I gunned it, charged by the power raging in the SLK55’s engine. I heard a thump and looked to my left. Alastair clasped the door handle.

“Too fast?”

“No, love,” he answered in a low, gravelly tone.

By the time I hit sixth gear I really had a feel for it. The car purred and hugged the road at my command. Alastair remained suspiciously quiet, observing every move I made. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face if I tried. This was almost as liberating as jogging along the coastline.

I glanced at him. His expression may have been blank but his eyes glowed a molten forest green. After several miles, I saw an area to pull over. Gliding the car to a stop, I put it in neutral, popped the brake and cut the engine.

“How d—”

I was silenced by a kiss.

“Impressive, Meyers.”

He looked a little peaked but otherwise seemed fine. A twinge of guilt shot through me. Maybe my driving so fast had reminded him of the accident that killed his family. My stomach sank. Not what I was going for.

“Come with me.”

Those words always sent a charge through me. Grinning, he got out of the car. I waited while he grabbed a blanket from the trunk and followed him to a large elm tree. After he spread the blanket he motioned for me to sit. Once I was settled he laid down, resting his head in my lap. I played with his hair, enjoying the quiet. Only the occasional chirping bird interrupted the relative peace of our little roadside pit stop.

“Everything okay at work?” I asked. There was a long pause before he answered.

“I suppose.”

Here we go. The parade of vagueness begins.

“How’s your grandfather been feeling?”

“Fine.”

“And your aunt and uncle? How are they?”

“Same as always. Katherine keeps asking when I’m bringing you by the house again.”

The house. I had to stifle a laugh. My whole apartment building could fit neatly inside the Holden Estate with room to spare.

“We should go back there and visit. I’m sure they’d love to see you outside of official family gatherings.”

Alastair folded his arms across his chest and stared up at the sky. I could tell he hated the idea. He’d mentioned he avoided going to the estate unless it was necessary. His aunt was a sweet woman, though. I couldn’t imagine why he wouldn’t want to spend time with her. The uncle was another story. I’d noticed Alastair’s relationship with him seemed strained.

“You look lovely today.”

I came screeching back to the present and glanced down at him as he fingered the hem on the green chevron striped tank top I’d picked from the closet. I’d paired it with denim shorts.

“Thank you.”

“Everything fits alright?”

“Um, yeah.”

“But…?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Well, the bra is a little snug. But I think that has more to do with, you know, hormones and stuff.”

“Snug?” He reached up, skimming his fingers over the swell of my breasts and cupped one of them. “Feels good to me.”

“Smart ass.”

“What? I think you look smashing. Sexy as always.”

“Whatever.”

A slight frown marred his otherwise serene expression. Anxiety rushed through my body. The late afternoon sunlight shone off his eyes as he looked up at me, turning them an even more vibrant green.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

He smiled bitterly. “Is this what I do to you? Give annoying one word answers when there is clearly something going on?”

“Sometimes.”

He was quiet for a few seconds. “Okay then. This morning, when you asked about Paxton running errands for me? The reason I got upset is because when I was younger my uncle always drilled into my head that nothing should ever be handed to me. I should work hard for every advantage, just as he and my father did. It didn’t matter that we were wealthy. The minute we let someone else do the most simple task for us, we lost our sense of independence.”

The transformation in his manner of speaking was jarring. He sounded monotone, almost as though he were reciting an unpleasant oath. Regardless of my suspicions about his uncle, this seemed to be a decent piece of advice. But what did I know?

Some of the tension melted from his face. “Sorry I was so abrupt with you. It’s a bit of a sore spot with me.”

“You have a lot of sore spots.” I poked him in the stomach. “I’m going to need a roadmap pretty soon to navigate through them.”

“No you won’t,” he said softly, staring up at me with reverence. “You’re gorgeous in this light.”

Sitting up slowly, he twisted a piece of my hair around his finger. Sunlight reflected off the chestnut strands in shades of copper and auburn. More stunning for me was the way it set his hair ablaze with color.

“So are you.”

He scrunched his nose. “If you say so. Come. I want to take you somewhere.”

For the first time ever I didn’t ask where we were going. I simply followed him back to the car and remained silent. I liked how this weekend was progressing. We felt more comfortable around one another, physically and emotionally. At least I did. I could tell he did to a certain extent. There were still an abundance of layers to peel away before I’d be secure enough knowing he fully trusted me with his emotions. Patience was the key. The last thing I wanted to do was rush him. Or complicate matters with accusations of stalking.

I winced, pushing the thought out of my mind.

“We’ve arrived.”

I glanced out the window and saw a familiar looking thatched cottage.

“I remember this place,” I grinned, following him to the front door. The same ‘at home’ feeling washed over me when I entered the cozy living room. Everything about this cottage was the exact opposite of his house. It was modest and lived in. The hard wood floors were a warm honey color partly covered by a soft cream throw rug. Small lamps and sconces cast a pleasant glow throughout. Even the low ceilings had charm with their exposed beams.

“What do you remember about it?”

Leaning against the crimson couch, I smiled. “I remember you being a gentleman after my unattractive display from too many martinis.”

“Is that all?”

The longing in his eyes radiated through the room. In a heartbeat, he stood in front of me. A flurry of nerves rushed through my stomach. He brushed his cheek against mine, the stubble lightly tickling me. I lost myself in his delicious scent. The mix of shampoo, body wash and him was so enticing.

“This is where I first kissed you,” he whispered, brushing his thumb over my lips. “This is where you made me feel for the first time in years.”

Something about the cottage had a calming effect on him. He stood before me, devoid of any protective shield or mask. Seeing him so open melted my heart. He moved closer, gently running his knuckles down my cheek.

“Please tell me what’s bothering you.”

Panic streaked through me. I can’t. Not moving, I struggled to maintain eye contact with him. He stayed silent, watching me carefully. Feigning aloofness was out of the question. He saw through me too easily.

“Rough week at the office, chief. That’s all.” I grinned, hoping it touched my eyes so he’d be convinced. There was truth to that. It had been a rough week.

Cradling my face gently as though he were holding porcelain, he studied me. It made me uncomfortable. I knew it was my own fault for not being forthcoming but I had to keep this from him. He hovered his lips over mine.

“We are so much more alike than I realized,” he said, kissing me softly. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready, yes?”

“There’s noth—”

His mouth covered mine, the pressure making my lips burn. I wrapped my fingers around the back of his neck, holding him tight against me. His impassioned kisses were just as magnificent as the tender ones. They lit my bloodstream on fire. Hazy and throbbing with want, I met his ardent stare.

“Are you going to keep kissing me like that until I tell you?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’ll have to wait.”

Leaning his forehead to mine, he laughed. “You drive a hard bargain, Meyers.”

I ran my hands up and down his back, gliding them slowly over the cotton t-shirt. A low moan vibrated in his throat. I loved the sounds he made when he was turned on. Lifting the hem of his shirt I snuck my hands under, caressing the warm, soft skin along his lower back. I felt his muscles contract.

“Don’t control it,” I said against the corner of his mouth. “Let go.”

He jerked backwards, burning me with a blistering stare. The heat from his body still pulsed against me. His raw emotion was palpable. Teetering on the edge, he fought to retain control. I made him look this way. I broke his every defense.

“You’re mine, Holden. You don’t have to hide behind the mask with me.”

I wanted so much for him to see me as his safe place, someone he could trust with his emotions. I think on some level he did. Our relationship was new and unchartered territory for both of us. Alastair standing there and looking at me with that bewitching stare made it difficult to concentrate. Even when he fought to corral his feelings, the strength of his desire hit me at full force.

“You are so goddam sexy.” I didn’t even recognize the sound of my own voice, mostly because that was supposed to be an inside thought.

A salacious grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Ditto, love.”

He scooped me up off the floor and tossed me over his shoulder. I shrieked in surprise as he carried me to the bedroom, laughing when he placed me on the bed. He strode over to a small desk and opened a laptop. Slow, jazzy piano music filled the room.

“Who is that?”

“Jamie Cullum.” He climbed onto the mattress. Poised over me, he lowered his head so our noses touched. “We’re going to lie here and forget the world for a while, alright?”

Enclosed within his magnetic sphere I reached up, touching his cheek. “If that’s what you want.”

His jaw tensed, eyes flashing. “You are what I want. Only you. Always.”

He kissed me with the feverish passion of a man who’d finally found the one thing that gave his life meaning. We made out like sex-starved teenagers, rolling around on the bed, yanking each other’s shirts off. Hands and fingers moved greedily over skin, grabbing and caressing. His body was solid, lean muscle next to my soft curves. I had no definitive thought process, only where I should touch him next.

When we finally stopped, I had ended up on top of him, slowly kissing his neck.

“What are you doing with that smart mouth of yours, Amelia?”

“Staking my claim.” I nibbled at his skin. He tensed briefly, then moaned and relaxed. I kissed down his chest, smiling as the reddish-brown hairs tickled my face. A quick squeeze at my waist stopped me.

“Hey.” I sat up.

“I have to get something. Don’t move.”

He kissed my nose before standing up and leaving the room. I grabbed one of the oversized pillows and flopped onto my stomach, listening to INXS sing soulfully about afterglow. Resting my chin on my hand I smiled, looking out into the bedroom. Like the rest of the cottage, this room was warm and cozily draped in rich neutral colors. It reminded me a bit of the color scheme in his living room, only without the cold, sterile aura.

He seemed much happier and at peace here than he did anywhere else. But maybe that was just my wishful thinking. Anytime he let his guard down was a moment to behold. Oh, how I loved when he did. I could only hope he realized how much it meant to me.

I noticed something move out the corner of my eye. Looking to my left I saw Alastair standing by the door, pointing a camera in my direction.

“What are you doing?” I jumped.

Confused, he lowered the camera. I clutched the comforter, trying to tame my furiously beating heart. Dammit. Control yourself.

“You just,” I stammered, “I wasn’t expecting you to be taking pictures of me.”

“I was going to say something but you looked so pretty lying there. Sorry.” His shy little smile made me melt. So did the fact that he was shirtless wearing only his jeans. “Want to see?”

“Sure,” I sighed, sitting up. Settling next to me, he turned the camera so I could look at the preview screen. There I was, stretched out on my stomach clad in only my bra and shorts, hair all mussed up. My pinky finger rested on my lips, which were curled into a lovesick smile. To top it all off, my legs were bent at the knees, feet pointing up to the ceiling. Oh my God.

“I look so…” I wrinkled my nose.

“Perfect.”

“I’m far from perfect.”

He frowned. “I want you to see yourself through my eyes. This is my favorite smile of yours. You have so many different ones but this one…it’s…“ He swallowed hard. “I like to think you smile like this when you’re thinking about me.”

I blinked at him, stunned.

“Too cheesy again?”

“No. It’s, um…you have a favorite smile?”

“I have a lot of favorite things about you. At the risk of sounding too soppy, I’ll end it there.”

Regaining some of his trademark cool-as-ice demeanor, he leaned against the headboard. The guy who once declared he didn’t do relationships certainly knew how to charm a girl. Always a master at disguising his feelings, the mask slid back into place, locking in any trace of emotion that tried to escape. Not what I wanted.

“Can I ask you something?”

He eyed me suspiciously. “Alright.”

“How did you end up with this place?”

The switch from stoic to tranquil was subtle. He stared out in an almost dreamlike state. I was fascinated.

“It belonged to my mum’s parents. They were from Scotland and bought this cottage shortly after they married. I never met them. They died before I was born and left it to her. Years went by before anyone thought to do anything with it. I remember my parents talking about having it renovated so we could spend summers here. Obviously that never happened.” His shoulders slumped. “When I turned eighteen and finally got the keys to the place I drove out here to see it. I’d never been before. It was rundown and needed loads of work to be livable. I hired some contractors, told them what I wanted and here we are.”

Every layer I managed to peel away held an intriguing nugget of information.

“You never considered selling it?”

“No.” His voice tightened. “Not an option.”

“So, you’re part Scottish then?”

A huge smile brightened his face. “Aye. My being a ginger didn’t give it away, lass?”

“At least your attempt at a Scottish accent is better than your American one. What other tricks can you do? Got any kilts in your closet?”

Raising an eyebrow, he grinned wickedly. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“I like you just as you are now; half naked in your jeans, relaxed and playful. This cottage has an amazing effect on your whole being. It makes me happy to see you this way.” The words tumbled out of my mouth faster than I could employ some sort of filter.

“I feel safe here,” he said quietly, not breaking eye contact with me. “For someone like me, that’s rare.”

The strength of his admission hit me hard. This was his sanctuary, a place to lock out the world and be himself. I studied his body language, looking for any signs of withdrawal. He sat calmly, hands resting in his lap. I half expected him to start meditating.

“Is that why you brought me here?”

Staring darkly, he repositioned himself to kneel in front of me. Every muscle moved with controlled precision. I sat up on my knees so we were eye to eye. He still seemed relaxed but there was a hint of danger in his eyes.

“We all want to be understood, to find that one person who needs no explanation when they look at you. I’ve wandered through most of my life shutting out that possibility. And then I met you.” He paused, tracing his finger along my jaw. “Nobody has seen me so completely. We’re two sides of the same coin, Amelia. I am yours and you are mine. Always.”

A pleasurable shiver ran down my spine.

“I told you once that you made me feel so much, it hurt. Even now, in the safety of this cottage, it hurts. I don’t understand it but I know I can’t live without it.” He used both hands to cup my jaw, fixing a stare on me so hot the intensity burned straight to the pit of my stomach. I grabbed his waist, pulling him closer.

“I hate to break it to you, Holden, but you have it bad for me.”

“Is that so?”

“Yup.”

“Your way with words is stunning as always, Meyers.”

“I love you, too.” I leaned in, brushing my lips on his. “The thing I mentioned before about you being so goddam sexy?”

“Yes?”

“Thought I’d, you know, bring it up again.”

He kissed my forehead. “Tell me what you want. I’ll give you the world if you asked.”

“I have everything I want right in front of me.”

He slowly traced his fingers along the contours of my body, savoring each curve with gentle strokes. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

“Why?”

The atmosphere shifted as an unrelenting tempest of want and need gathered around us.

“Because I said so, love,” he said in a low, commanding tone. Only the feral gleam in his eyes betrayed the outer shell of control. When he spoke to me like this my whole body came alive.

I watched him saunter out of the room and trembled with anticipation. Not even the stress of the past week could derail the frenzy of lust that continued to build. I became more attuned to my deepest, most intimate desires with him. He brought out a side of me I’d never allowed myself to set free with anyone else.

I barely noticed the lights turning off as they were replaced by the flickering glow of candles. A haunting piano melody filled the room rounded out by a slow, seductive electronic beat. Alastair had me caged against the mattress and locked in a deep kiss as wisps of the lyrics floated through what was left of any conscious thoughts in my mind.

“This song,” he whispered on my lips, “is called Bloodstream. It describes exactly what you do to me.”

Too overwhelmed by him and how he covered every inch of me in magnificent kisses, I neglected to pay attention to the song.