Bound for Nirvana: (The Bound Trilogy Book 3) (7 page)

Thoughts of the day’s events skittered haphazardly though my mind as I stretched lazily. I couldn’t believe how good it had felt to embrace my true feelings about my father’s... misfortune. Hearing what Ethan had done would normally provoke a completely different reaction from me. Only yesterday, I would have been horrified to think I’d been party to such a cruel, underhanded deed. Today, however, it was a whole different ball game.

Swinging my legs over the bed, I got up and padded into the bathroom, smiling widely at my reflection in the mirror when I spotted my smudged mascara, thoroughly fucked, messy hair, and my mother’s beautiful diamond pendant at my throat. I couldn’t have been happier. Quickly, I tugged a brush through my hair and eyeing Ethan’s dress shirt lying idly over the arm of the chair where he’d left it, I pulled it on and breathed in the scent of my wonderful man.

When I wandered through to the lounge I was met with the wonderful aroma of pizza. Lucia’s pizzas, if my sense of smell served me correctly. Ethan confirmed the notion when he strolled in from the foyer carrying a couple of Lucia’s pizza boxes.

“We missed out last night,” he answered my unspoken question. “I was looking forward to that pizza, so
voila
.”

“Good call,” I smiled approvingly, realizing suddenly how hungry I was.

Passing me the boxes, he pointed to the sofa, indicating for me to sit. “I’ll pour us some wine.”

The pizza smelled delicious and my mouth began to water as I curled up on the sofa, folding my legs beneath me, pizza box in my lap. Ethan handed me a glass of wine and sat down to face me in the opposite corner.

“Nice shirt, by the way.” Flipping the lid of his box, he tucked in, making instant murmurs of appreciation.

“Thanks. It’s Armani. It smells amazing.”

He smiled. “You
look
amazing wearing it, baby. But actually, I was talking about the pale blue Brioni that Jackson was wearing when he got back to the office this afternoon.”

I halted, pizza suspended midway to my mouth. “Ah.”

“Ah, indeed. Care to explain?” His face was a mask of impassiveness as he munched on his food.

“Well, as per your instructions, Jackson gave me a hand with some packing this afternoon at the apartment, and it was a little dirtier than I’d anticipated. The apartment,” I added quickly when I noticed his eyebrow flicker upwards. “He made a mess trying to clean up some smudges on his shirt, so I lent him one of yours.”

Nodding slowly, he plucked another slice of pizza from the box.

“You don’t mind do you? I mean, I couldn’t let him go back to the office in a dirty shirt.”

“No, course not. I have no problem with you giving Jackson one of my shirts, Angel.” He pointed to the suspended slice of pizza which still hadn’t made it as far as my mouth. “Eat.”

Without pause, I sunk my teeth in, taking a large bite of the mouthwatering, yummy pizza. “Mmm, that’s incredible.”

“Isn’t it,” he agreed. “So what did you think of Jackson’s tattoo?”

“Oh, actually that’s incredible too. I don’t usually—” I stopped mid-sentence, abruptly aware of the look of astonished fury on his face.

“Wrong fucking answer, Angelica.”

Oh! I knew exactly where he was headed with this. He wasn’t bothered by the fact that I’d given Jackson the shirt, only by the possibility that he’d changed in front of me. And I’d just confirmed that he’d done exactly that.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, although I knew the answer perfectly well.

“What’s wrong is that you seem to think it’s perfectly acceptable behavior to be in the presence of another man whilst he’s practically naked.”

“E, this is Jackson we’re talking about.”

“Exactly. His body’s a fucking temple, a honed machine—you must have noticed.”

I had noticed—of course I’d noticed, but I wasn’t about to tell Ethan that. Instead, I tried to make light of the conversation. “You wouldn’t think so with the amount of breakfast he stuffed inside him.”

“You went out for breakfast?”

Oh Christ! “He said you’d given him instructions to feed me.”

“I said to make sure you ate, not take you out to wine and dine you. Where did you go?”

“Nowhere special. We just went to his favorite caff.” I pronounced the words favorite
caff
with Jackson’s London accent, earning myself a look of severe displeasure. “Ethan, what is this? Why have you suddenly got a problem with Jackson?”

In frustration, he shoved his hands into his hair. “I haven’t
suddenly
got a problem. And my issue isn’t with Jackson.”

“Well, what then? Or who? With me?”

“No!” He pushed his pizza box to the side, his lips bunching into a sulky pout. “I’m just not comfortable with how close you guys are.”

“He’s my friend, E. That’s all. I don’t think of him in any other way, I promise you.” My tone was gentle as I tried to reassure him, but to no avail. He looked genuinely hurt, agitated even.

“You talk to him—listen to him.
I
want to be the person you listen to. It’s
my
job.”

“I
do
listen to you.” Shit, this was still about last night and all the other times I’d failed to take his advice when he’d tried to guide me through dealing with my issues.

“Only when I virtually torture you into it. And I don’t doubt you’d already been partially persuaded by the advice Jackson gave you today.”

Ethan had discussed me with Jackson, I was right. And knowing I’d taken his advice on the chin had obviously rattled him. “You asked Jackson to speak to me?”

“I was desperate for you to sit up and listen. To stop playing the role of your father’s favorite punching bag. And as Jackson’s the only one you seem to take advice from…”

“Ethan, you’re wrong.” God, I’d hurt him more than I’d realized. I moved, clambering over the pizza box and into his lap. “I came to the office this morning to tell you that you were right. To apologize for the way I behaved last night. I was ready to deal with my demons then,
you’d
already convinced me.” I took his face in my palms, but although he met my gaze, he still didn’t move, his hands remaining limp by his sides. “As much as I enjoyed my lesson this evening, it only served to make things more lucid, make me more confident about how I now see things—it wasn’t the deal clincher. And my chat with Jackson certainly wasn’t.” He still didn’t look convinced, and his uncertainty caused an unwelcome lump to form in my chest. I gave it a rub to ease it. “He’s just my friend. A kind and loyal friend, whom I occasionally exchange good-natured banter with in a silly sort of… brotherly-sisterly, affectionate way.”

“But he’s not a friend, Angel. He’s your employee.”

My
employee
? The comment astounded me, and I suddenly wondered if that was what Jackson had meant earlier, when he’d said that sometimes he forgot that I wasn’t just his buddy. “He works for you, E, not me.”

“No, he works for
us
.
Our
driver,
our
Chief of Security,
our
home.”

Oh! This was something I’d never considered. That moving into Ethan’s home would suddenly alter my status. “Are you saying Jackson can’t be my friend?”

The regret in my voice was almost palpable, more so than I’d intended, and I saw a flash of guilt flicker behind his eyes. He paused, seeming to consider his answer. “No.” He shook his head for emphasis. “I’m not saying you can’t be friends. But there has to be a line—and you have to be careful not to cross it. I think ‘brotherly’ crosses it.”

I gasped. “But why?”

Suddenly, his gaze seemed to climb inside me, as if imploring me to understand his perspective. “Because it’s a bond you crave. The kind of connection you’ve always longed for. Only Jackson isn’t your brother. And he can never be your brother. So what if the
thing
that unites you turns into attraction? Into more than friendship?”

Suddenly I realized why he was so suddenly insecure. It was because I’d given up on any kind of kinship with my family, and he was afraid that I would search for it elsewhere. And that maybe it would cause a gap in our relationship.

“That’s not going to happen!” I yelled. “E, you’re blowing this way out of proportion. There is only you. There will only ever be you. People will come and go in my life, some will have an impact and some won’t. Some I’ll be close to, but I’ll guarantee there will never be anybody who comes close to touching my soul the way you do. Christ, I can barely remember to breathe when I’m not with you.”

“Really?” His voice cracked, his hands curling around my hips as if he were grasping for this information.

“Really, Ethan. I can’t believe you don’t know this.”

Suddenly he looked contrite, letting go of my hips and gripping his head at either side, his eyes wide as if he couldn’t believe how dumb he’d been. “I’m sorry, baby. You’re right. I’m being completely unreasonable. I just couldn’t bear it if I ever lost you.”

“You will
never
lose me. And it’s my fault you feel insecure. I’ve dragged my heels for so long in dealing with my issues, it must have seemed as if I didn’t trust you. But I do.” I grabbed his hands, placing them back on my hips. “You’re the only person in the world I would trust with my life. If it makes you feel better, I’ll change the way I act toward Jackson—”

“No! I don’t want to deprive you of a friendship because I struggle to control my jealousy. God knows you deserve to have people who care about you. All I ask is that you try to stay within the boundaries—and for fuck’s sake, try to avoid him getting naked in front of you in the future.”

“I’ll do my best.” Relieved, I kissed him lightly on the mouth and his arms folded around me, tugging me close.

“What were you going to say before? When I asked you about Jackson’s tattoo? You said it was incredible, and then you said that you don’t usually—don’t usually what?”

I thought for a second, trying to recall what it was and then said, “Appreciate tattoos. I don’t usually appreciate tattoos.”

“Oh.” He nodded. “So what exactly did you appreciate about this one?”

Oh fuck!
I sighed heavily. After the conversation we’d just had, I didn’t have a clue how to get myself out of the corner I now found myself in. The sensual intimation of the tattooed image on Jackson’s sculptured torso was abundantly obvious to anyone who laid eyes on it. Certainly any female. It was the way in which the serpent slithered suggestively from a place left only to the observer’s imagination, to coil provocatively through toned abs and chest muscles, its tongue hissing and licking as it tasted its way through its seductive journey. Christ, any fool would appreciate it.

I licked my lips.

“Never mind.” Ethan held up his hand. “Probably best that we don’t go there.”

“Probably,” I agreed readily, eager to move on from this topic of conversation. Picking up a slice of pizza, I guided it toward his mouth. “Eat.”

Complying, he took a large bite. “So did you accomplish much? In between your counseling and your ogling.” He smiled widely to ensure I knew he was teasing.

Mustering a straight face, I nudged his arm in a feeble attempt at rebuke. “Yes, all packed, believe it or not. Jackson was a huge help. I wouldn’t have known where to start without him.” I got up and went in search of the bottle of wine, refilling our glasses and settling back on the sofa.

“That was the idea. His organizational skills are exemplary. I knew I’d never get you moved in if I left it to you.”

“Well, you didn’t give me much chance. You only asked me to move in yesterday.”

“I didn’t want to give you time to change your mind. I want you here permanently, where I can see you. Besides, it makes it harder for you to leave me if you’ve no place to run to.”

“Ethan, I’ve no intentions of running anywhere, or leaving you, or changing my mind. What’s got into you?”

“Nothing,” he laughed. “I’m teasing.”

Was he?

“You should get a good price for it. The apartment, when you sell it,” he added in answer to my questioning frown.

“Oh. Well, actually, I thought I might lease it.”

“Why?” he snapped.

“Well… for one, it would bring in a steady additional income.”

“Why the fuck do you need additional income? Sell it and bank it—or invest it. I’ll help you.”

“I need the money to contribute; I can’t just live here for free.”

“What?” He spat the word with excessive exasperation. “Are we on completely different fucking pages here? I didn’t ask you to be my roomie. I want you to share my home, share my life, share everything I have. From now on, there’s no distinction. Everything is yours as much as it is mine—it’s ours.”

I stared at him in defiance, knowing deep down it was futile to argue, but I’d never relied on anyone in order to survive. My solitary life had instilled an independence that would be hard to rebalance.

“But I have nothing to share with you,” I whispered.

Incredulity creased his brow as he shook his head. “Did you give me your heart?”

The question shocked me. “Yes, every last inch.”

“Then what else do I need?”

“And what if
you
leave me?” The question was out there before I’d had the chance to compute their impact.

As expected, he flinched as if the words had burnt him. “I’d die before I ever left you.”

The deep blue pools of his gaze bore into mine with a tumultuous blend of annoyance and love, and I knew my own mirrored them completely. Suddenly, my cell was ringing and seeing it as a good opportunity to end the conversation—at least for now—I scrambled up to retrieve it from the breakfast island.

Without glancing at the display, I snatched it up, my attention still on Ethan’s expression as he scowled at his wristwatch, visibly unhappy with the interruption.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” It was Jia. But there was something odd about her tone, something… flat.

“What’s up?” I asked immediately.

She cleared her throat. “Nothing, I’m fine. Could you step in for me at the gallery tomorrow?”

Something must be up. Jia had never missed a day at the gallery.

“Sure, are you—?”

“Thanks,” she cut me off. “Oh, there’s a private viewing booked in at four-thirty.”