Read Love Beyond Words (City Lights: San Francisco Book 1) Online
Authors: Emma Scott
It surprised him, she saw, and he turned in his seat to look at her, to watch her hold his hand in both of hers. His eyes were full of warmth and longing. He leaned closer and the nearness of him was more intoxicating than any wine. The scent of his skin and his cologne, the warmth of his breath…She even savored the scent of his fine clothing that smelled new and clean. And his eyes…the blue of his eyes was a tropical sea and she fell into them, became submerged in their depths.
“Natalie…”
“Yes.” She smiled drowsily even as her pulse quickened. It was almost as if she’d become accustomed to how he set her at ease and completely undid her at the same time.
“Ah, god, don’t look at me like that,” he said, his voice thick.
“Like what?”
“Seductive.”
“No one has ever called me seductive before.”
“Impossible,” he said gruffly, and before she could draw a breath, he took her face in both of his hands and kissed her.
Natalie was thankful she was already sitting down; she felt herself falling away, dizzy and drunk for this, the first kiss, that she had been dreaming about for months.
His lips were gentle, caressing hers, sweeping over them. She could do nothing at first but tilt her head back and let him do as he pleased until his tongue ventured to touch her. A gentle invasion, a
wanted
invasion. She parted her lips wider to accept him, let him explore her, and then kissed him back, stroking the warm velvety wetness of his tongue with hers.
Oh god, delicious.
He tasted of the Crème Brule they’d shared for dessert, expensive wine, and beneath that, his own delectable sweetness.
Natalie heard a little moan escape her. She pushed out of her seat toward Julian, wanting to feel more of him, and slipped her hand into the curls of his hair that felt just as soft and silky as she had imagined it to be. He moved closer, grazing her lower lip with his teeth before covering her mouth completely with his. Their tongues danced and stroked and slid along each other until Natalie lost all sense of time and place. There was only this incredible sensation…and the
want
it was building inside her.
Julian shifted, trying to maneuver closer in the enclosed space of the car. A short blast of the horn startled them both and they flinched away. Natalie laughed nervously, while trying to catch her breath. Julian did not.
He looked about, like a sleepwalker awakened, and put his hands back on the steering wheel.
“Julian?” Natalie started to reach for him but suddenly felt she shouldn’t.
“I…” He twisted his hands around the wheel, not looking at her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to start anything until…”
Natalie bit her lip where she imagined she could still feel his touch, fading now. “What is it?”
“I have something to tell you.”
He sounded hesitant, agitated, when a moment before he had been lost in the kiss with her.
Hadn’t he?
She sat back in her seat, bracing herself. The warm flush of desire he’d kindled in her was rapidly vanishing. “Okay,” she said slowly. “I’m listening.”
“I should have told you sooner,” he said, his gaze still on the nearly empty street outside the windshield, “but I didn’t know how. Not without leaving you thinking I’m a lunatic or that I’m playing a horrible, cruel joke. Even at this moment, I fear you will think that and hate me.”
Natalie’s heart began to clang dully against her chest. The contentment, the pure joy of the day was seeping out of her moment by moment, leaving her cold. She waited for him to say more and when he didn’t, the silence became unbearable.
“Is it…that you’re seeing someone else?” she ventured. “Oh, not someone
else,
” she added quickly, her cheeks burning, “because you and I…we’re not really seeing each other. Are we? I mean…we haven’t…until today.” Her hands trembled and she clutched them tightly in her lap. “We just talk. Five months…off and on, and our talks are so nice,
more
than nice. They’re incredible. But I just…I’m not sure what we’re doing.”
“That’s my fault,” Julian said, turning to look at her finally, his expression pained. “All of it. My fault. I know my behavior must seem…strange, but please believe me there’s a reason for it.”
Natalie nodded though she was more confused than ever. And afraid.
Is he breaking it off?
“What is it?”
Julian held her gaze a moment, a thousand thoughts behind his eyes, words forming his mouth…And then he abruptly sat back in his seat.
“It’s uh…well, it’s complicated. Too complicated to discuss here, in the car.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “This is all wrong. I’m making a mess of everything. The very last thing I want to do is hurt you.”
Though her heart might shatter with his next word, she had to know. “You can tell me. Please. Tell me.”
“Yes,” he said, firmer now. “Yes, of course. I should. I will. But…not here. Let’s go—”
Julian’s cell phone rang from the pocket of his jacket, its insistent chiming filling the car.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and fished it from his pocket. He glanced at the screen, frowned, and jabbed a button. The chiming ceased and he tossed the iPhone onto the dash. “What was I saying? Nothing that makes any sense, I’m sure.”
“You said we should go—”
The chiming came again and Julian scrubbed his hands over his face. “
Maldita sea al infierno
,” he swore and grabbed the phone from the dash. “It’s David again. I don’t know what he’s calling about…” He jabbed the button again and then flipped a tiny switch on the side of the phone. “Muted,” he said but before he could put the phone away, it vibrated in his hand. He bit off another curse. “Natalie, I’m so sorry. Let me…” He put the phone to his ear.
Natalie sat back in her seat, her hands twisting in her lap.
“What?” Julian demanded into the phone by way of greeting and then listened for a moment, his beautiful features twisted by irritation. “
What?
Why would they think…?” She saw him glance at her, and then he turned away, lowering his voice. “Yes, of course it’s my charge. This is ridiculous.”
Natalie’s stomach twisted, feeling certain Julian and his assistant were talking about her. She quickly turned her gaze on the quiet street.
Today…it had been so perfect.
“Authorize it, David,” Julian snapped into the phone, angry now. “
Authorize it
.” He hung up and sat with the phone turning over and over in his hands, his expression stony, his voice tight. “Natalie, I’m so sorry. This isn’t how I wanted today to end, I promise you.”
She forced a tremulous smile. “It’s okay.” Her fingers blundered over the door handle. “I understand,” she added, though nothing could be further from the truth.
“No, Natalie, wait—”
“I should go,” Natalie opened the door. “Maybe we’re not ready yet…or I don’t know. Thank you for the lovely lunch and…for everything,” she managed before tears choked her completely, and got out of the car, fumbled her keys into her own door and disappeared behind it without looking back.
Upstairs, in her empty place, she stared about vacantly. She worried that she had overreacted by getting out of the car; but she couldn’t withstand the crushing confusion a moment more, not when things between her and Julian had seemed to be progressing—finally—toward something more. His kiss, his magnificent kiss, was like a promise that her loneliness was over; a bright and shining gift dangled before her and then vanishing the moment she touched it.
Below, she heard the angry squeal of tires on concrete, and the roar of a high-powered engine that quickly grew distant and faded away. She touched her fingertips to her lips, where Julian’s mouth had swept over hers so sweetly, one question turning over and over in her mind.
Why had it all gone wrong?
With a satisfied smile, David Thompson pushed “end” and dropped his cell phone into his jacket pocket. He got out of his car and jogged to the elevator, pushing his brown flyaway hair out of his eyes, his footsteps echoed hollowly in the cavern of concrete of the underground lot. He keyed in a security code that allowed the elevator to take him up, past the lobby, to the residences. At the fifteenth floor, he keyed in another security code that granted him access to Julian Kovač’s penthouse apartment and stepped inside. A cold, gray light illuminated the living area, ushered in from the immense windows that overlooked the city and bay. The sky was leaden. He flipped on a light.
The apartment was stark. Elegant. Cold. Just as David liked it. No sign of the holidays anywhere to ruin the perfect, stylish aesthetic. Why bother with tacky decorations, David had hinted carefully to Julian, when he would be alone?
But Julian had countered that by taking that Natalie woman out. She hadn’t any family and Julian didn’t want
her
to be alone.
What about me?
David thought.
He’s
my
family; my true family. After six years you’d think he’d realize that.
But lately, Julian’s thoughts revolved only around Natalie Hewitt.
David’s ulcer had flared on that summer night last August when Julian confided in him about the coffee shop in the Sunset District and the girl behind the counter. Julian had discovered what he thought might be the perfect place to write his next book, but it was clearly the girl he was intent on. When he began going to that café four or five days a week, the acidic burn in David’s gut burrowed deeper—the same sort of anxiety he’d had when Julian brought his last girlfriend, Samantha, home for the first time.
But this was worse.
Julian hadn’t spoken about Samantha in the same way, or as warmly as he talked about this Natalie woman. He hadn’t worn strange, funny smiles, or tuned out of conversations with faraway expressions on his face. Over the last few months, David had done his best to subtly caution Julian not to get involved, to remember the disaster that Samantha had turned out to be. But time and again Julian said, “I think this could be different,” in a soft, blissful way that made David very nervous.
Now Julian was on a date with the girl. The fact that it had taken him nearly five months to arrive at that event was David’s sole consolation.
That and an ill-timed phone call or two.
A small triumph, but it was time to get down to the serious business.
He went to his office off the hallway behind the kitchen, and turned on more lights and the computer. He thought about brewing coffee, but decided he wouldn’t stay long enough to need it; his true purpose for being there wouldn’t take but a moment. His gut twisted at the notion as it had every month for the last eight months. And again, he had to quell the queasiness by reminding himself that there was no other way to keep Julian safe
.
No other way.
David checked the security console. There was one mounted in every major room of the apartment. Above the keypad were three lights, two of which were dark. The third light shone orange. It meant the system was armed but someone authorized—himself—was in the residence. It would flash red when someone approached the front door and then green if they had the code. No other lights came on; he was alone. At the computer, he opened up Julian’s bank accounts and investment holdings, keyed in usernames and passwords. He dragged the screens so that they were side-by-side, their activity and totals all before him.
In the monthly expense account was the money to pay the regular bills, and the Home Owners Association fee on the penthouse that looked like a mortgage payment in and of itself. David paid all of this electronically, and wrote a check for Esther, the cleaning woman—whom Julian paid
far
more than was reasonable, in David’s mind—setting a clean slate for January, and leaving Julian plenty of money for anything minor he might want or need.
His second duty was to handle the Platinum Amex credit card bill, and this month’s balance was massive—much more than Julian usually spent—with holiday shopping. The card carried a top-of-the-line set of golf clubs for his editor, Len Gordon, and a gift basket of wine, chocolate, and a cashmere scarf for Len’s wife. It also bore a huge charge for the gold-and-diamond Bulgari
watch that now glittered on David’s wrist. His heart fluttered with joy that Julian had spent so much on him, but a sour look crossed his features at the next item.
Julian had spent a ridiculous amount of money at a boutique jewelry store. A present for Natalie. Some trinket that cost less than David’s watch, but still too much by half.
The little coffee shop tart isn’t worth that much.
He’d known about the necklace, of course. No dollar spent escaped David’s awareness; it was part of his job to manage and protect Julian’s wealth.
I protect him in all things,
he thought, and paid the bill off.