Authors: Justine Dell
He did a quick drawing with his eyes closed. Maybe the loss of his senses would help. Once he finished and opened them again, he growled his annoyance. The sketching pencil snapped between his fingers. Tearing out the page, he crammed it between his hands and threw it in the garbage.
It reminded him too much of her. Everything reminded him of her. His Sophia.
His entire line—hell, his entire life—had revolved around her. Every stitch of cloth. Every roll of fabric. Every color.
Everything.
Yet, for the second time, she’d run out on him without so much as an explanation. She had been within his reach. She had been in his arms. And now she was gone again.
Granted, the first time hadn’t been her fault, but this time Sophia had scurried away of her own accord. And what was this business about her not knowing who he was?
He collapsed in his chair and pressed his palms to his eyes.
Why did it have to be this difficult? He’d thought he’d convinced himself to get her out of his mind. Obviously, Sophia had gotten him out of
hers
.
Or had she? Maybe he had just frightened her. He thought he’d shown restraint, but hell, after all that time and thousands of miles, it had been all he could do to keep his hands to himself. It had been so long since he’d held her. Sure, maybe he shouldn’t have kissed her. Maybe he’d gotten a little carried away. But when their bodies had molded together as they had so many years before, the depth of what they’d shared reached a level Xavier had never known. The need that had flowed through him had sent him into a frenzy. He’d wanted her so badly he could have felt the pleasure at his fingertips. And he
knew
he’d seen longing in her beautiful blue eyes. He’d seen the spark of recognition.
Xavier rubbed his hand on the back of his neck.
In this day and age, one would think people would be easy to find. But even though he had stretched his powers to find Sophia, he’d come up empty-handed over the years. He had known where her parents lived in London and had tried—unsuccessfully—on numerous occasions to contact Sophia there. Each time he’d tried, he’d been met with a brick wall. Knowing the very people who took her away from him would not help now, he was left with nothing, not knowing where Sophia was or how to find her again.
The ache in his chest returned as he realized the night before had just been happenstance, and because of her reaction to him, he didn’t know what to do. He’d thought she remembered him. He’d thought he’d seen a glorious spark of recognition in her blue depths. With a heavy sigh, he realized that couldn’t be true. If she remembered what they’d shared, she wouldn’t have run away.
In letting her go, he’d let his one and only chance of reclaiming his love slip through his fingers.
A thud of papers on his desk startled him.
“A batch of orders for you to approve from the show last night,” Bryant said in a way-too-cheery voice. “Everyone loved the line.”
Xavier rose from the desk and gave his brother a condescending stare. Bryant was smiling a little too hard. It made Xavier want to rip out his brother’s teeth.
“You know
I
don’t have to do that,” he ground out. “Isn’t that what I pay you for?”
He made his way to the credenza in the corner of his makeshift London office, which was no more than an extra room in his suite. In a matter of seconds, he poured a shot of whiskey from the decanter, downed it, had another, and then slammed the glass on the marble top. It clanked and nearly shattered in his palm.
Xavier ran an unsteady hand through his hair and blew out a hard breath. “I’m sorry, Bryant. I didn’t mean that.”
Bryant actually laughed. “Yes, you did,” he replied. “You tend to be more honest when something’s got you all bent out of shape. I’m guessing the fire last night wasn’t as hot as you thought it would be?”
Xavier cast Bryant a sidelong glance and took yet another shot.
“Be careful with that,” Bryant said as he crossed over to him. Without missing a beat, he took the decanter from Xavier and dumped the remaining contents down the sink.
“What the—”
“You’ve got a charity auction to be at in less than an hour, and this”—Bryant shook the empty bottle—“isn’t going to help.”
Xavier’s head fell back. “I needed that.”
“No, you don’t. Focus on the line and the things that make it great. If the inspiration is out of your physical reach, remember the memories that made it in the first place. You’re stronger than this. I know you.”
As angry and irritated as Xavier was, he couldn’t really argue with his brother. There would be no benefit in the end. Xavier was a lost cause when it came to finding his head after obsessing about Sophia, and Bryant knew how to help him deal—by getting him to focus on his fashion line.
It was the only way he had survived.
“Xavier?”
Xavier looked at his brother. “Yeah?”
“Did you hear me?”
“Every word.” He hung his head. “Thank you.”
Bryant spoke with more care. “Something happened with Sophia last night, didn’t it?”
“She said she didn’t remember me.” Xavier’s chest constricted painfully. He loosened the necktie suffocating him. He needed to get some air. He needed to get a grip.
Hell, he just needed Sophia.
“Wait…what?”
“I said,” Xavier spit out, “she doesn’t remember me.”
Bryant at least showed the courtesy of covering his mouth as he laughed. After he recovered several seconds later, he spoke. “Guess that means she wasn’t the one after all?”
“You know, you really are a pain in my ass.”
Bryant flashed his white smile. “I know. But someone has to keep you on the straight-and-narrow. Just repaying the favor, bro.”
“Pick another time to do it.”
“Seriously, Xavier, stop this. How can a girl who said she didn’t remember you be the
right
girl? Based on all the calls I’ve had to field over my lifetime for you, I’d say you’re hardly a forgettable man.”
Xavier frowned. Bryant had a point. A small one.
“So then,” Bryant continued in his I’m-right-and-you’re-wrong voice, “I’m guessing she only resembled your teenage hottie and got all hot and bothered by your attention or the party or whatever. Women do stupid things. Then I’m guessing she got all frigid when she realized where the night might lead. She’d wanted attention, but not
that
much. Either that, or it
is
the girl and she’s crazy. In either case, you wouldn’t want anything to do with her. Am I right?”
Again, Bryant had a point. Maybe Xavier had been mistaken. Maybe he’d just
wanted
to see Sophia so badly. Come to think of it, it was after he’d called the woman “Sophia” without having asked her name that she’d frozen up.
He exhaled loudly. “Do you really think I’ve become that delusional, Bryant? Honestly?”
Bryant chuckled. “Yes. But, hey, I can’t blame you. If I was as googly-eyed as you were, I’d probably have the same problem. Love tends to stick with ya.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Bryant went back to Xavier’s side and patted his shoulder. “For tonight, I’m begging you to get yourself together. This charity auction is important for the XS philanthropy junk. And it’s your job as the better-talking—not better-looking—brother to go and show face.”
A rumble grew in Xavier’s chest. “Talking like that is not going to win you any favors.”
“Just for tonight. Tomorrow, before we leave, we’ll work out what to do about your
other
problem.”
Xavier brushed passed his brother. “Sophia’s not a problem. Never has been and never will be.”
He took long strides, bypassing the elevator and heading straight for the stairs. He needed to keep moving to keep his mind from focusing on the only thing on his radar.
Taking the steps two at once, he made it down four flights in no time. Pushing open the door, he stopped as he came to face-to-face with a mirror in the lobby.
He looked like shit. His hair was shaggy, and his shirt was halfway un-tucked and wrinkled from being restless all day. He’d spilled coffee down the front when he’d gotten distracted—which had happened a lot. And it looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He didn’t want to clean up before going to the charity auction, but judging by the way he looked, people would run for the door if he walked in like that.
Grumbling, he turned and jogged back up the stairs to get ready for a night he couldn’t care less about. Maybe then he could get some sleep and wake to deal with his
illusion
of Sophia.
He hoped like hell the girl he’d met hadn’t actually been one.
Chapter Five
S
OPHIA
A
ND
A
NNE
M
ARIE
R
USHED
down the stairs, their dresses swooshing around their legs, ready and anxious to go to the charity auction. For the clothes, of course. Not the amount of time Sophia would have to spend with her mother for the night.
“Right on time,” Sophia said as she grabbed the front doorknob.
“Where are you going?” The voice, steely and calm, stopped both girls in their tracks.
Sophia cringed before straightening her shoulders and turning toward it. Her grandmother Elise stood poised and regal in the doorway to the sitting room with Sophia’s mother by her side.
Sophia plastered a smile on her face. “To the charity auction, of course.”
“Wearing that?” The willowy woman, while late in her years, was still able to pin Sophia to her spot with her stern voice. And even though her blue eyes were aged and dark, Sophia didn’t miss their disapproving flicker.
Sophia pressed a shaky hand to her glittering gold and chartreuse gown. It was cut low, but not too low. The hem was high, but not too high. And it was only semi-tight.
“What’s wrong with it?” she asked.
Elise smoothed out her flawlessly pinned gray hair. “Need I even answer that?”
Sophia, feeling like a child, lifted her chin. “No, because there
is
nothing wrong with it.” She turned to Anne Marie. “What do you think?”
Anne Marie opened her mouth to answer, only to quickly snap it back shut from Elise’s determined scowl.
“Well?” Sophia said, elbowing Anne Marie in the ribs.
“Um,” Anne Marie’s eyes darted between Sophia and her grandmother. “I think it’s lovely and shows a great deal of personality.”
Elise chortled in a high pitch. “Oh, yes,” she agreed, surprising Sophia. She took a step forward. “But I believe it shows quite a bit more than just
personality.
What do you think, Katherine?”
Sophia stood even straighter. It was like she had a stick-straight two-by-four glued to her back. “Yes, Mother,” she said as pleasantly as she could without hissing. “What do
you
think?”
Katherine hands fluttered as she clasped them together in front of her. “I think we should go.” She took several steps forward. “If we don’t leave now, we’ll be late.”
Elise’s forehead wrinkled. She pointed at Sophia and Anne Marie. “You shall be riding with us.”
“What?” Sophia’s stomach knotted. “Why? I’ve already sent for our car.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Elise said, breezing toward the girls. “I’ve canceled it. Your mother and I have done some chatting whilst we waited for you, and I believe we have some things to discuss.”
Sophia took a step back and cast her eyes away as Elise brushed past, her chin high. “As you wish, Grandmother.”
“Come, then, everyone,” Elise called. “A night of dinner, dancing, and charity waits.”
Sophia clamped her mother’s elbow and dragged her away from her grandmother and Anne Marie as soon as they walked into the Renaissance. “I want you to know that I thoroughly enjoyed that lesson in manners and my family duties during the ride over. Why did you invite her?”