Fated: An Alpha Male Romance (16 page)

“Not right now.” He stuffed the envelope into his pocket and turned to me. “Let’s go so I can pick up my car.”

My heart plummeted. The little bit of forgiveness that I’d been given earlier had only been temporary.

Once again, he started off towards the exit without me.

I sat with
the car in park and my hands gripping the steering wheel. Next to me in the passenger seat, Ethan didn’t move. We’d still exchanged no words on the entire drive to the Chophouse parking lot, but I‘d felt him staring at my face from time to time. Now, he looked straight ahead, jaw tight and Adam’s apple bobbing with fury. I knew exactly what to say to him; I just didn’t know how. But, I didn’t want us to walk away from each other upset. I couldn’t lose this man over something as petty as my fears, yet I still needed more time. I needed to steel myself in order to deal with the fallout from dropping an atomic-sized bomb on my family, as well as Roderick. A relationship dissolution of this size would practically spell the end of his campaign, and it wasn’t something that he was going to take lightly. I didn’t dare try to imagine my father’s reaction.

“I don’t know what it is about you,” Ethan said, shaking his head. “Alexandra, you drive me fucking insane. I’ve never wanted anybody in my entire life more than even a tenth of how much I want you. But, I can’t do this shit forever.”

“I know, E,” I softly replied. “I feel the same way. Even now with us arguing like we’re arguing, the last thing I want you to do is step outside this car.”

My words fell on deaf ears. The very next thing he did was push open the door and step out of the car.

I cut off the engine, hopped out, and ran after him. He turned around, caught me in his arms and then swung me around to press me against his car’s exterior. His lips came down on mine hard, angry, and filled with the vigor from the tension that had built between us. I kissed him back with the same fervor, tears draining from my eyes. I tugged at him as though I could literally pull him into my body, fusing our souls together so that he couldn’t ever walk away from me again if he tried. He popped the button on my jeans and I helped him ease the denim down over my thighs. The parking lot was vacant and we were partially obscured by towering oaks, but I probably wouldn’t have cared if we were facing the street during rush hour.

He lifted my legs around his waist and I watched the color in his eyes oscillate between a light, colorless silver and a dark, menacing gun smoke. I held my breath as he entered me, releasing it only when he’d fitted his hips against mine as deep as they could go. His expression softened a bit when the gasp escaped my lips, and he stared at me with unwavering, unblinking eyes. Then, he began driving into me with the same angry force with which he’d kissed me. I grabbed him and tried to pull him deeper, but he resisted and continued to fuck me furiously, never letting his eyes deviate from mine.

I cried endless tears from both the way this man made me feel and the way that I could sense how he felt about me. Was there really anything in life worth more than this? Ethan wasn’t a man who would drag me down the path of damnation. He simply loved me and wanted to be with me just as much as I never wanted to go another day without him. I wanted to wake up next to him and fall asleep in his arms. I wanted to inhale his scent when he hugged me from behind, fresh out of the shower with a towel at his waist. I wanted to make him breakfast and watch the stretch of his shoulders as he seared our dinner over a gas grill. I wanted to see those angry brows, metallic eyes, and heart-stopping smile mirrored on the face of our son or daughter.

My clit throbbed and my nipples tightened. Pressure built inside me and rushed forward towards release. My thighs reflexively began to quiver. Ethan looked into my eyes as though searching every corner of them.

“You’re mine, Alle,” his hoarse voice resonated.

The husky declaration pulled my orgasm to the finish line.

I cried out and he covered my mouth with his. Rapid shots of bliss resonated between my legs and over my body. I released everything that I had, everything that I’d stored, and opened myself up for him. I was taking the biggest risk of my life, but without a doubt, it was a risk worth taking. I’d stepped out of the only world that I’d known and Ethan had been there to help push me out. Without a doubt, he’d be there waiting for me on the other side.

My orgasmic cry suddenly transformed into actual full-blown tears. Babbling, bubbling, ugly tears. I couldn’t speak, my brain temporarily ceased operations, and everything around us faded into a misty silence. The only thing that brought me back was the sound of Ethan’s voice calling my name.

“Alle, baby, what’s wrong? Alle, talk to me.”

“I’m so sorry, E,” I hiccupped, my face a shameless mess.

“Sorry about what, baby?”

I looked up at him. “I love you, Ethan. I’m sorry about earlier, baby, but I love you. With everything I have.”

His angry expression completely disappeared and he grew to his firmest inside me. “Tell me again.”

Each heartfelt declaration of “I love you” was punctuated by the length of his shaft pulsing into me. I continued to tell him how I felt, pressing kisses over every inch of his face until he succumbed to his own quivering conclusion, filling me with his warmth.

He pulled open the back door of his car and we made our way inside. Then, he returned to his place inside my body and pulled me into his chest. I was still crying, but my blubbering had calmed to an intermittent sniffle. However, I was happy. Over the moon happy. I looked up at him and he was smiling. Then, he brushed his lips over mine.

“I love you, E,” I said, my voice even.

His smile got wider and I etched that happiness into my brain. It would be the only ammunition that I would need to protect myself from the assault that was my family.

Roderick Q. Hamilton

I couldn’t believe the evidence that was being presented before me. Although not an ignorant man, I’d been content wallowing in ignorance as long as Detective Stubbs could find no proof that Alexandra had slept with Dr. Stewart. That she’d let another man penetrate her body. Yet there she was, pressed against what I’d presumed to be his vehicle, her face contorted by the summit of passion. She loved him. She fucking loved him. Her feelings for this man were so evident that they could be captured by a photograph.

How in the world had I let this happen? I’d just
known
that she couldn’t be cheating on me and that there was no one else in the world that she could see herself being with. But, I’d been so far off.

I couldn’t even blame Gia since to blame Gia would be to admit that my power in my relationship had been reduced, which wasn’t something that I was willing to do. Her cheating had been my fault. I was the only person with enough power in Alexandra’s life, outside of her father, to cause her to deviate from her normal behavior. This wasn’t something that she’d done simply on her own.

“Where was this taken?” I demanded.

“Outside of that restaurant. Chophouse,” Stubbs replied. “I couldn’t believe that I’d hit such pay dirt. Never pegged your woman for the type to make love in the great outdoors.”

“Make love?” I clenched my fists. “You think that’s what this is? They’re making love?”

He looked at the photo. “Honestly? Yeah. Everything about the interaction between these two lovers makes me think more ‘couple’ than ‘friends with benefits.’ They’re basically in a relationship.”

I wanted to slice through his honesty.

“And he hasn’t been seeing other women? Nothing to suggest that Alexandra’s an occasional lay?”

“I don’t think he could even if he tried,” Stubbs replied. “He took her to the Briggs-Allen assisted living facility where I’ve verified that he’s got a senile grandfather. Men don’t just take women to see their grandparents unless it’s serious. Parents is one thing, but grandparents is an even bigger deal.”

I shoved away the tablet, the images both repulsing and intriguing. There was a very small part of me that tried to justify that perhaps Alexandra deserved where she believed she’d found happiness, but if Alexandra and I were to break up now, it would completely ruin my campaign. Even worse, if it somehow became general knowledge that she’d left me for a physician who specialized in treating children with disabilities, grew up in one of the poorest areas in New Orleans, created an advisory board to give back to that community, and was still able to accomplish all he did, I would only come out looking like the Hyde to his Jekyll. I could already see people wondering about what was so inherently terrible about me that Alexandra had to leave me for a saint.

“So, I take it that her change in behavior was attributed to the good doctor, then?” I asked.

“Most likely.”

“And you weren’t able to find any anomalies in her day? Nothing that explains how this started in the first place?”

He closed the flap on the tablet case and pulled a notebook from his back pocket. Today, he was dressed in a pair of black slacks, sneakers whose wear suggested that he walked on the inside of his feet, and a newish looking polo.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. You said that she first started ignoring your calls around Christmas Eve. Well, with a bit of sweet talking and a whole lot of lying, I was able to get access to the security room at the center. It’s basic stuff, nothing high-end, so I got some surveillance footage and keycard swipes for their entries and exits. Until the night before your fundraising banquet, Alexandra would leave the office around five-fourteen unless she was working late. Dr. Stewart usually left the latest out of all the staff members. On that particular night, they both stayed until around eleven p.m. You can probably guess what they were doing.”

He jerked his brows up and down, and I got the sense that he wasn’t exactly on my side.

“And the surveillance tapes?” I asked.

“Mr. Hamilton, nothing—”

“Just tell me what you saw on the damn tapes, Stubbs.”

“What did you call me?”

“Nothing.” I cleared my throat. “What’d you see?”

“Like I said, nothing out of the ordinary. Her grandmother dropped by to see her and left a few minutes later.”

Evelyn Miller was hardly nothing. She probably hated my guts more than Gia did, but her Louisiana high society background didn’t permit Gia’s level of crassness. Alexandra had confided in me once that her grandmother believed in the concept of spiritual connectivity and that there were people who were so destined to be together, that if they did wind up in a relationship, they would be virtually guaranteed a life of unbridled passion and a bond that couldn’t be severed even with the sharpest of dissent. To put it simply, the old woman was insane and was beginning to identify too much with her West Indian roots.

But now, it didn’t seem like just patois-laden mumbo jumbo. Evelyn was the matriarch of the family. The voice of reason. Even the general bowed to her whim like a six-year old boy. If she’d been able to convince Alexandra that she and Ethan were, as she called it “rooted,” then I could easily see this relationship blossoming from there. Alexandra was a very beautiful woman, so it wasn’t a far cry to think that the doctor had always found her attractive. She was also weak-willed and easily directed, so a few orgasms and I could see her becoming hooked on him. Women often believed that sex and love were one in the same, but in reality, the feelings the man had for them usually didn’t even extend past the length of his penis.

“What was Evelyn doing there?” I asked.

“Visiting,” he answered, exaggerating each syllable. “She had a container in her hand, so she was probably just dropping something off for her granddaughter.”

“And did she leave with the container?”

I could tell he subtly wanted to roll his eyes. “No, she didn’t.”

And there was my answer. The old troublemaking bat was the missing link. Whatever she’d dropped off for Alexandra, along with whatever she’d possibly said to her, had set this entire thing in motion. Though I wasn’t inclined to think that whatever she’d dropped off at the office was a hoodoo concoction of sorts, I wasn’t completely convinced that it wasn’t.

“Thank you,” I replied. “I’ll need copies of these photos.”

“Do you plan to confront her?”

Now, he was simply being nosy. “And if I am?”

“Mr. Hamilton, have you ever considered the possibility that this guy isn’t out to hurt Alexandra? Maybe, just maybe, if she’d been happy with you, she wouldn’t be doing what she’s doing? I mean, when my ex-wife left me, I was pissed and angry at the world. But then I realized that I’d been a shameless alcoholic who worked too many hours and didn’t appreciate the little gestures she did for me. She’d make picnic lunches that I never attended, and the lengths she’d go to in order to get me the perfect birthday present was glossed over when I never even acknowledged the gift.”

I pressed a finger over my brow at the audacity of this layman to think that he could offer me life advice. “Well, if you’d looked like me and had my money, I guarantee that your ex-wife wouldn’t have ever left you,” I replied. “Send me copies of the pictures and continue to keep this under wraps from her father.”

He stared at me as though he was considering ignoring my request.

“And I will wire you extra as promised for the secondary surveillance,” I added, reminding him that I had him by the balls. Then, I stretched out my hand. “Do we have an understanding?”

He shook his head and grasped my hand with what appeared to be a degree of difficulty. Then, he walked off and I hopped into my car, feeling slightly unsettled about believing that the old Miller woman had done something to interfere with my relationship with Alexandra. I felt even more insane as I considered confronting her and propositioning her into reversing “it.”

Unfortunately, I had no proof and no leverage.

-----

Ethan

The letter that I’d gotten from my grandfather had brought my mother back to the forefront. Earlier that morning, I’d tried leaving it on the side table in my bedroom, but it had called me back upstairs. Now, it was on my desk at work and whenever I sat down, my eyes wafted over to it.

The envelope was old. It was colored as though the paper had been dipped in coffee years ago, but the liquid hadn’t been enough to damage the paper. I would have recognized my mother’s handwriting anywhere although I wasn’t sure why. I was also sure that it hadn’t been a coincidence that the letter had been stuffed into that particular book as one of the main characters in the novel had also served time for murder. However, that character had been framed for his murder and I was pretty certain that it wasn’t the case in my mother’s situation.

Alexandra was currently not in the office as she was out preparing for the diabetes fundraiser that was finally occurring this weekend. I hadn’t given her an ultimatum on the Roderick situation, but I’d imposed a tacit one for myself. Continuing on in the shadows was only going to drive me even crazier and relief was only going to come in the form of being with Alexandra, or not having her as a part of my life. I could only hope that, if her ultimate decision was to remain with Roderick, it would also mean leaving her position. Love was a jealous parasite and the feeling was so domineering that it made me uneasy of what that parasite would leave behind if it was suddenly ripped from my soul. It was said that time healed all wounds, but I’d had plenty of patients whose scars, whenever touched, were still tender. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want anything to do with it. I’d made fun of Kellen countless times but it now made complete sense why he’d ended up passed out drunk on the floor after the Trisha incident. It either took an incredible amount of strength to throw himself, whole-heartedly, back into relationships over and over again, or a heap of stupidity.

Through my open office door, I could see about fifty-percent of the front waiting area. It had been designed to look like a jungle: plastic vines hanging from the ceiling, a giant “tree” in the middle whose leaves were made up of thank-you notes we’d received from patients and parents, dark, soothing colors that were specially chosen for our patients with sensory disorders, and stuffed jungle animals. The best feature was the jungle mural on one of the walls that Gia had volunteered to paint about a year ago. It seamlessly integrated with the decorations, right down to the three-dimensional monkey hanging from a branch, smiling elephant, and bright-eyed tiger peeking over blade of grass. I would have never expected to have already been operating my own private practice at such a young age, but when opportunity had presented itself, I hadn’t hesitated to shake its hand. It also didn’t hurt to have a wealthy best friend as an investor.

A gust of air from the air-conditioning unit caused one corner of the envelope to flutter as though waving at me. My eyes went back to it on the desk and my thoughts back to my mother. I had no idea what she could have possibly wanted to say to me. Her actions were no clearer now than they’d been at six years old simply because they could not get any clearer. In the amount of time that she’d had to change her mind from doing what she’d done, at no point had her choice been me. She’d gone from drug addiction to male addiction, and I’d wondered, constantly, why she just couldn’t have been addicted to spending time with her only kid.

A piece of peeling paint on my far corner office wall caught my attention, and I sent a short email to my assistant, Anita, for her to arrange for someone to come out to repaint as soon as possible. I knew that my preoccupation with clean paint lines was directly related to John Ezra, and I hated the shackles, but I didn’t have the fortitude to deal with them.

Anita appeared in my doorway and I quickly replayed the email over in my head, prepared to apologize if it had somehow come out as convoluted as my current thoughts. She was petite, barely touching five-feet, with a shape that reminded me of an adolescent boy. As though someone had mentioned that same thing to her, a few months ago she began to wear belts cinched around her waist, makeup that accentuated her blue eyes, and had cut her dark hair up to her neck so that it had looked less stringy than before.

“Dr. Stewart, you have a visitor,” she announced. “I told him that you only had a few minutes down time and that I could schedule something, but he…insisted.”

The sunken, fearful look in her eyes told me everything I needed to know. “Roderick Hamilton?” I asked.

“Yes.” Her eyes widened. “How did you know? Did he have an appointment that I missed? I’m so sorry, Dr. Stewart.”

“No, he didn’t.” I attempted to reassure her with a laugh. “It’s okay, Anita. I could just tell. He has that kind of…presence. You can send him in.”

She turned to the side, nodded, and walked back to her desk. Roderick replaced her spot in my doorway dressed for an interview on Wall Street in a dark three-pieced suit, shiny loafers, and slicked back hair. I welcomed him inside and showed him to a chair in the seating area.

“Water?” I offered, moving around to lean against the edge of my desk.

He smirked. “No. No, thank you.”

“Well, what can I do for you then, Mr. Hamilton?”