Kiss of Ice (St. James Family) (17 page)

He didn't want to admit anything. He took a gulp of his beer instead. She always brought up other women that he slept with, and he hated it. He knew she used it as a way to prove that he wasn't serious about her, or to make light of the depth of his feelings for her.  But he knew that not all sex was created equal. Sure, he may have sex with other women, but he made love to her. He shook his head. He sounded like a real idiot, he thought wryly. “I've never been one to take a vow of celibacy.” He finally said.

“No one asked you to,” Annie said, dipping her spoon in her jambalaya.

“
True,” Christophe said. “I've been too busy for any kind of significant conversation, let alone a new relationship. My sex life has consisted mostly of a quick yank in the shower before work, if you want to know the truth.” Annie gave a snort of laughter and covered her mouth.

“
So no orgies in the orgy shower?” she said, her mouth full.

“
It's pathetic.” He sighed. He didn't tell Annie that when he masturbated, he thought of her lips wrapped around his dick. He thought about her pressed up against the glass window at the hotel in Paris, legs open for him. He thought about making love to her on that goddamn bear skin rug. He fiddled with his tie, suddenly hot around the collar.

“
You have my sympathies. I know you're used to pussy on demand,” she said, after a swallow.

“
I mean, I still have pussy on demand. Women throw themselves at me every day. I can't walk down the street without having to dodge panties flying at my head.” Christophe waved his hand dismissively. “I just don't have the
time
. That's the real tragedy.”

“
Who knew running a company was so time consuming?” She rolled her eyes.

“
Not me.” Christophe shook his head, taking another swig of his beer. Silence descended on them. After a moment, Annie leaned forward on her elbows. She looked at him, her face concentrated.

“
Is it that bad, Christy?” she said. A shiver ran through him when his name passed her lips. He took a deep breath, feeling like he was going to jump out of his skin. He nodded.

“
It's that bad,” he said softly. The past six months had been hell for him. Everyday was like a new torture for him. Any pleasure he derived from being successful and making his father proud would drain away as soon as he left the office. All that was left was a crushing loneliness. He had found love and he had lost it. Annie was moving on with her life, and he was stuck in the same damn place.

After Annie insisted on paying the tab, they found themselves back out in the muggy summer evening. She fiddled with her purse strap. She glanced down the street, toward the location of his loft.

“Christy, thanks for having dinner with me...” She started and he knew she was trying to make her exit.

“
Come upstairs,” Christophe said. “I'll make you a drink.” She shifted her hips and turned away.

“
I knew you were going to do this.”

“
What?” he said.

“
I knew you would try and get me up in your apartment.” She put her hands on her hips. “I'm not going up there.”

“
Then we can go to a bar.” He couldn't resist touching her. He slid his hands on either side of her waist, forcing her around to face him. “You owe me.”

“
Excuse me? I owe you?” she scoffed. But he noticed she didn't move away from his touch.

“
Hell yes, you owe me! Another two hours, half an hour, anything. I'll take it.” He dropped his hands when he realized his fingertips were digging into the soft skin beneath her dress. She glanced down the street. An available cab maneuvered down the cobblestone street, heading toward them. She bit her lip.

“
I have an early meeting tomorrow that I cannot miss.” She flicked her wrist to check her watch. “One drink.”

Chapter 20

Annata stood to the side of Christophe in the rickety elevator. She gave him a look as the elevator wrenched and jerked. He stared straight ahead, his hands in his pockets as they rode up. A breeze kicked up beneath them, the hem of her skirt rising. She appreciated the cool air in the muggy metal box, especially since she wasn't convinced the summer heat was the only culprit of the rising heat she felt in her body. She felt like she was marching toward an inevitable outcome. She clenched her jaw. She made a pact with herself to stay strong. No matter what he did, or what he said, she wouldn't sleep with him. If she did, it would be all the worse for her. She repeated that to herself as the elevator ground to a stop.

Christophe pulled the lever against the side wall, and the doors opened with a whoosh. From the door Annata could see his king-sized bed, the gray sheets mussed as if he'd just left them. A flash of the last night they spent in his bed shot through her brain. She remembered his rock hard, naked body beneath hers, as she rode him, the muscles in his neck straining
—she blinked, trying to rid herself of the vision.  Christophe entered first, pulling his tie over his head and tossing it on the black leather couch. “Excuse the mess. The cleaning lady comes tomorrow.”

“
Poor little rich boy,” Annata said, plopping her purse on the couch as well. He tossed her a look over his shoulder, smiling a devilish smile that sent a jolt through her. She went around the couch, walking to the wall. She forced her eyes to focus on his art collection. He seemed to prefer black and white photography, she noticed. She stopped short when a small photograph, framed like it was high art, caught her eye. It was her. Well, more specifically, it was her and William. From the style of her hair, she guessed the photo was taken about seven or eight years ago. They were hunched over William's desk, going over a document together. They didn't seem to notice anyone was taking their picture. She felt a pang of sadness in her heart. After everything, she still missed William.

“
I found that picture in my father's desk and decided it would look better on my wall,” Christophe said, his voice behind her. “I assume Miranda took it, probably back when she thought you and The Old Man were having an affair.” Annata's mouth dropped open and then she burst out laughing.

“
An affair?!” The thought was almost too ridiculous to be voiced.

“
You were his shadow. Everywhere the old man went, you weren't too far behind.”

“
He was my boss. And my mentor. Jesus. People need to get their minds out of the gutter.” Annata shook her head in disgust.

“
Well you were a sexy little thing back then.” Christophe leaned in to take a closer look at the picture. “I had questions myself.”

“
There are so many things wrong with what you just said.” She moved on to the next photo, a shot of subway graffiti. “Fix me a drink and I'll forgive you.”

“
Deal.” He moved past her to the kitchen. After a moment, she followed him. A bowl of lemons and limes on the countertop was the only color in the dark space. Ice clinked as he began to mix the drinks. She stood next to him and watched as he muddled a lime into the bottom of a martini shaker.

“
What are you making?”

“
Caipirinha. Lime, a bit of sugar, and a Brazilian liquor.” He poured a gracious amount of alcohol into the shaker.

“
Sounds heavenly.” She hedged over to the fridge and opened the door. All that was in the fridge was beer, a half-empty jar of strawberry jam, and a few containers of takeout Chinese. She smiled. Some things never change.

“
What are you doing in there?” he asked.

“
Just checking.” She shut the door.

“
Checking what?” He poured the drinks into the glasses he set out on the counter.

“
I guess Jennifer isn't much of a cook.” She took the drink he handed her.

“
She's not, unfortunately. Her one flaw.” He clinked his glass against hers and they both took a drink. She suppressed a moan of pleasure as the cool liquid soothed her throat. “It's good?” he said. She nodded. “Come on, sit down. Stay awhile.” He motioned her to follow him to the living room. She did, and when he sat on one end of the couch, she sat on the other.

“
So you thought I was having an affair with William?” she said. He threw his head back and laughed. She felt her mouth curling into a smile. It was good to see him laugh again.

“
Only until I actually met you. The minute you busted my balls, I knew there was no way.”

“
Well I'm glad you granted me your approval.”

“
I didn't say I approved of you. But I knew that that wasn't the way you played the game. You were a ball-buster, not someone who would sleep their way to the top.”

“
How do you explain me sleeping with you, then? The boss's son, the heir to the throne?”

“
Purely a mistake.” He watched her intently. “You had no intention of ever being nice to me, let alone sleeping with me. But then you made a mistake.”  Annata drummed her fingernails against the glass, intrigued.

“
What mistake? As I recall, you were the one who was in my office and who forced yourself on me.”

“
True. Very true.” He smiled, shaking his head. “I was such a little shit.”

“
You were a
smug
little shit.”

He laughed again. “Okay. But you didn't tell me to get out. You kissed me.”

“Maybe that was a mistake,”she conceded, smiling into her drink.

“
Would you take it back?” He said, not looking at her. She didn't hesitate.

“
No.” She had no doubts. The time she spent with Christophe would forever be etched on her heart. He leaned forward, close to her.

“
Then why are we not together?” he said. Annata searched for an answer. She was still hurting over the split with International. Christophe had lied to her and purposely kept her in the dark when he knew the truth. She'd said horrible things to William and couldn't face him again. And her pride. Her damn pride had been shot to hell. She still wasn't healed, no matter how much it hurt to admit that.

“
Christophe—,” she began.

“
Don't give me some bullshit answer. Tell me why we're not together.”

“
Because I need to focus on my career right now,” she said, carefully.

“
Focus on your career? How's that working for you?”

“
How's it working for you?” she shot back.

“
It's not working. I'm fucking miserable. Do I have to spell it out for you?” He dropped his head into his hands. She set her drink down on the coffee table and scooted over to him.

“
I'm sorry, Christy. I'm sorry,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes. Her throat clenched as she fought her rising emotions. Not now, she told herself. Please, not now.

“
Don't be sorry,” he said, his voice thick.

“
Fine. I'm not fucking sorry,” she shot back, a tear running down her face.

“
Goddammit, Annie.” He swiped at his eyes. He stood and slammed his glass down on the table. He turned his back to her, rubbing his face. She stood as well, wiping her eyes carefully, trying not to smudge her mascara. She smoothed down her skirt with shaking hands.

“
I'm going to go,” she said. She moved toward the elevator.

“
No,” he said and rushed around her, blocking her path. “I still love you, Annie.”

“
Get out of my way.” She tried to push around him, keeping her head down so he wouldn't see the tears starting to fall in earnest.

“
Do you even care?” He grabbed her arms holding her in place. She fought against him. “Answer me!” He was angry now, his fingers biting into her skin. Her heart was thundering in her chest; her breathing was jagged. She couldn't hold back the tears any more. A heaving sob broke free. He dropped her arms and enveloped her in a rough hug. She threw her arms around his neck and clung to him, sobbing. All of the emotion of the last six months poured out of her, like an unstoppable tidal wave.

Christophe pressed his face into her neck, holding her tight against his chest. “Don't cry.” He said again, kissing her under her ear. “Don't cry, baby. I'm sorry.” But she couldn't stop. She could feel him lift her up off of her feet and before she knew it, he was laying her down on the bed. He held her against him, massaging her back and shoulders. He must think she was a total basket-case, she thought, as her sobs finally subsided. Embarrassment started to creep in and she pulled away from him, swiping at her eyes. He wiped an errant tear from her cheek with his thumb.

“I'm definitely leaving now,” she said. Christ. She wished the floor would open up and swallow her.

“
Stay with me tonight,” he said.

“
No, I can't.” She shook her head. After her emotional display, she was completely and totally mortified.

“
Please.” He caressed her cheek again, and she leaned into his touch. “Don't be afraid to show yourself to me,” he whispered.

“
I'm not afraid.”

“
You are. You don't want me to know you.” His thumb traced the line of her lower lip. “Let me in.” He prodded. She sighed, but was silent. “You're tough and smart and beautiful,” he continued, his eyes on her lips.“You make me laugh. I miss you when you're not with me.”

“
Someone else could be those things for you,” she replied, settling against him.

“
I don't want anybody else.”

“
You will,” she said, dropping her head back onto a pillow. He shook his head.

“
No, I won't,” he mumbled as he lowered his head to brush his lips across hers. She tilted her chin, responding to his light touch. Her fingers curled against his shoulder, gripping his shirt.

“
Oh, Christy,” she said. “You make it so hard.”

“
Good.  I want to make it hard for you.” He kissed her again, his lips soft and smooth. She drank in the smell of him, the feel of him. He was intoxicating. She knew that this night would soon be over and then she would be alone again. But until dawn, she could pretend that she was his, and that everything was right with the world. She would be strong again tomorrow.

He sat up and slid his hands down her ankle. He freed her of one shoe, then the other. He kicked off his own shoes and laid back beside her. She turned on her side and he cradled her against his chest. They lay there for what seemed like hours, his even breathing tickling the skin of her shoulder. Slowly but surely, she felt the nervous tension leave her muscles. For the first time in months, her body fully relaxed. She closed her eyes and let herself drift into unconsciousness.

***

Christophe opened his eyes, a sharp metallic noise wrenching him from the deepest sleep he'd had in awhile. His hazy mind took a minute to grasp what the sound was, but as soon as he realized it was the elevator, he bolted upright. He was in the bed alone. Annie was nowhere to be seen. Blinking his eyes clear, he jumped out of bed and jogged toward the elevator. There she stood, her purse on her arm, attempting to pull the lever to close the heavy metal doors. He smiled at her posture, leaning forward on high-heels, trying to put all of her strength into it. She looked up and saw him.

“Don't just stand there. Help me. I'm going to be late for my meeting!” Annie scolded.

“
Fuck your meeting.” He crossed his arms.

“
I'm serious, Christophe.” She pulled again on the lever and then released it, stamping her foot. “This goddamn piece of shit elevator!”

“
You have to caress it,” he said, stepping over to her. “Make love to it.” He smiled, advancing on her until she backed against the metal wall. He put his hands on either side of her head, pinning her there. Before, he'd been content to have her for one more night. Now he was greedy. He didn't want to let her go. “Fuck your meeting,” he repeated. “Stay with me.”

“
I'm going to my meeting. It's very important.”

“
When are you done with this mysterious meeting?”

“
I don't know, by the afternoon.”

“
Have dinner with me.” He dipped his head, brushing his lips across hers.

“
I don't think so,” she mumbled between kisses. “I haven't seen my sister since I've been back.”

“
Bring her to dinner.” He kissed her again, this time deeper. She leaned into him, a small moan escaping her throat. “I'm not letting you go until you say you'll meet me.”

“
Jerk,” she said, a small smile on her face.