Roman: Book 2 (The Hunter Brothers Series) (33 page)

It might mean me
a way back for me and Charlie, and if that was the case, no one would get in my
fucking way.

I took a deep
breath, finishing my wine before breathing again, trying to steady my beating
heart. I couldn’t sound irrational, insane, joyous, too hopeful, too sad, or
too anything. I needed to play this right. Keep calm, keep my tone in check and
get him face to face. I needed to strike now while he felt guilty and vulnerable.
He loved his father, he’d be grieving, and he’d want affection, love and
tenderness and I would give him as much as he could handle. Charlie had a good
heart, and if what I thought was right, he would find it almost impossible to
forgive himself for cutting me off with nothing. If I had to use that to get
back in his heart I’d do it, whatever it took, dialling his number.

“Hey,” I said
quietly as he answered, softly and letting him know I’d been crying, albeit not
for the reasons he’d think.

“Hey, thanks for
calling back,” he said. This was a good start. “Scarlett, I need to talk to
you, it’s really important,” he said as I took a deep breath, calculating my
next move.

“You’ve had six
months, Charlie. Six months that I’ve longed to talk to you. Just one word, but
you wouldn’t even take my calls. You hurt me and humiliated me and I never knew
it was possible to feel so much pain. I still feel it now, Charlie, every day,
and today hurt like hell. You have no idea how it feels to be ignored and hated
by the very man that you adore with all your heart,” I said, my breath hitching
and wondering if this would work in the way that I hoped it would, needed it
to.

“Oh, baby, I’m
so sorry. I can’t ever make up for what I’ve done, but I need to see you.
Please, Scarlett, please give me a chance to say I’m sorry,” he said, his voice
so heartfelt that it pulled on every ounce of love in my body. I wanted to tell
him it was okay if it meant we could be together, if he’d hold me, touch me and
kiss me again, but I couldn’t, not yet.

“Come over,
Charlie,” I said softly, wondering whether he would. Tomorrow could be too late
and I knew every single member of his family would be urging him not to. They’d
never liked me. They tolerated me because of Charlie, but they thought I was
manipulative and untrustworthy, my only redeeming feature, my unswerving love
for their brother. Sometimes it might have come across that way, but all I’d
ever wanted was for them to like me, accept me and treat me like one of their
own. The Hunter bond was strong, but I’d sat outside the circle, never allowed
access, striving to prove myself to a family who didn’t seem to want me. Now I
knew why.

“I should stay
here tonight,” he said as I rolled my eyes. It had been six months, but Charlie
Hunter hadn’t changed. He was straightforward, loving, protective and as easy
as hell to read.

“Forget it,
Charlie, what’s past is past,” I said, sitting back in my chair. I’d taken a
risk, but it was a calculated one. I couldn’t sound as desperate as I felt, the
blood rushing through my veins so fast I could almost hear it. I wanted to hate
him, it was what he deserved, but I’d realised long ago that would never be the
case. A love so deep was indelible, a stain on the soul that had plunged my
life into darkness in the blink of an eye. Only Charlie Hunter could bring back
the light.

“Give me forty
minutes,” he said gently, putting down the phone as I span around in my chair,
happier than I’d been in months. In less than an hour I would be preened and
presentable, looking every inch the doe eyed victim and Charlie would be
staying the night in my bed. The most difficult thing would be holding back the
grin that was threatening to burst through my face at the thought of having him
back. Because one thing was certain: After tonight Charlie Hunter was mine, and
I would NEVER let him go again.

Charlie was
easy. Not complex like Roman, or brooding like Lucas, or unpredictable like
Tyler. He was straightforward; his face like a readable guide to whatever was
going on in his head and I had forty minutes to ensure the expression when he
opened that door was exactly the one that I wanted.

I’d need to play
out of character tonight while his defences were down. He’d be expecting me to
be surprised...and angry. As far as he knew I wasn’t even aware of why he had
ended it. Of course I was only too aware. It had taken a great deal of
manipulation and cost me ten grand to bribe one of the staff at Greenfield
Hall, but there was no way I could have rested not knowing what was at the
heart of it. After the Barbie sisters, it didn’t matter; nothing did.

He’d want my
forgiveness and he’d get it, and by the time he left my apartment there would
only be one outcome I smiled to myself, opening up the drawer and pulling out
the black box that had been nestled there for the last six months.

I opened it,
smiling at the gleaming diamond encrusted watch. It had been my most audacious
idea at the time and I was livid I’d never got to use it. God knows I could
certainly have done with it then. I closed the lid, opening my wardrobes and
looking for something I knew Charlie would like. He loved sexy; he loved vamp
and he loved feisty, but tonight he wouldn’t be getting it. Tonight it would be
jeans, girly soft pale pink cashmere, hanging off my shoulder with only a hint
of the red underwear he loved so much, showing underneath. Tonight he needed to
forget Scarlett the ball-breaking bitch. I needed to play the victim and I
needed to perform the role well. Only then would I get everything I wanted.

I was only just
ready as the doorbell rang and I padded across the carpet, out of the bedroom,
into the lounge and through to the hallway, looking through the peephole at his
flustered expression.

I opened the
door; staring at the incredible face I had missed so much, fraught with emotion
as a million feelings flooded through me. I had to keep it together, stick to
the plan, but Charlie Hunter affected me just as deeply now as he always had,
and immediately tears sprang to my eyes, unyielding and unplanned and letting
him know exactly how I felt. This was not how it was supposed to happen.

He stepped
inside quickly, pulling me into his arms as I breathed his scent, a unique,
intoxicating smell that took me back to every wonderful moment we’d shared and
I couldn’t stop the torrid flow of tears as he held me tightly, holding my head
against his as he tried to soothe my pain. “Oh Scarlett, sssshhhh, baby
ssshhh,” he said over and over as heaving sobs wracked my body and I collapsed
against him, unable to say anything but his name. “Charlie,” I gasped as he
squeezed me so hard I couldn’t breathe. I loved him so dearly and I feared in
that moment that I always would.

“Scarlett,” he
said, pulling away, holding my face in his hands and wiping away the steady
stream of tears that were flowing in unending rivulets down my cheeks as I
found myself apologising. “Oh baby, you have nothing to be sorry for. This is
all my fault. I fucked up so bad, Scarlett, we need to talk,” he said, guiding
me across to the couch, sitting me down as he moved to sit beside me. I closed
my mind to my plan. I wanted to hear what he had to say, wondering if maybe I
should come clean. No; that would achieve nothing and I sat back silently
waiting for him to speak.

“Dad told me he
found you in bed with Roman,” he said as I stared at him in stunned horror. The
reaction was genuine. I’d heard it from the maid and I knew it was the reason,
but hearing it from Charlie now made it seem somehow real. I felt every ounce
of the pain that was written in those beautiful features. I stayed silent in my
confusion. “I know now that you didn’t do it, Scarlett, but I didn’t then. That
was why I ended it, why I went with the Barbie sisters... it was the reason for
all of it,” he said as I swallowed hard, shaking my head.

“Why didn’t you
just ask me, Charlie?” I said as the tears threatened again and he put his head
in his hands. Instinctively I laid mine on his back, wanting to soothe away his
sorrow despite what he’d done. It didn’t matter. I knew the emptiness I’d felt
in the last six months and there was no pain comparable. I’d take anything but
that. He turned a puzzled frown on me.

“I don’t know.
Roman took off and I guess that just confirmed it for me. I thought you’d be
mad, Scarlett,” he said softly, turning to look at me as I sighed deeply.

“I’m so far past
mad, Charlie, I can’t even begin to explain. Nothing hurts more than not being
in your heart.
 
Not the humiliation or
the fact that you didn’t trust me and thought I could hurt you that way. My
heart shattered so hard when you ended it that I felt it; it was physical. I
still feel it, Charlie,” I said and every single one of those words was the
truth.

“Oh Jesus, baby.
I don’t know what to do, but I want you to forgive me; you have to forgive me,
Scarlett. Roman turned up at the house after the wake and when he told me....oh
fuck, Scarlett...” he said, running his firm hands along the soft pink cashmere
of my arms and gently kissing away my tears as I just stared at him open
mouthed and praying this was really happening. I’d had dreams, thousands of
them where he came back begging my forgiveness, waking to the raw hurt that
consumed me all over again. But he was here, this was real.

“Have you come
back to me?” I asked, my fragile voice no louder than a whisper as he held my
gaze, before bowing his head and I looked away, trying to recall
 
my plan, think what I needed to do, but the
emotions were so overwhelming, so physical, so consuming that I couldn’t even
think straight.

“I don’t know,”
he said as my face contorted in pain and I tried to stand, almost collapsing as
I made my way on shaky legs towards the huge glass wall, looking out over the
panoramic view of London, the glittering lights and the historical beauty; the
reflected pained figure of the man I loved, slumped on my couch with his head
in his hands, broken and confused and not knowing which path to choose. I had
to guide him. I needed to pull myself together and show him just what he needed
to do, making my way silently into the bedroom, returning to the couch with the
black box in my hands as he moved his head to look at me.

“Do you remember
Paris, Charlie?” I asked as he nodded. “I bought you this when we got back,
only I never got the chance to give it to you,” I smiled, handing him the box
as he frowned, opening it and looking at the beautiful timepiece as sorrow
engulfed his features once again.

“I can’t accept
this, Scarlett,” he said, looking up at me. “Give it to someone else, baby,” he
smiled, his words like a dagger through my heart as I swallowed hard.

“I can’t. It
belongs to you. Whether you wear it or not, it can only ever be yours,” I said
as the tears weaved their tracks down my face once again.

“I don’t
understand,” he said as I lifted the watch from the box, turning it over and
quoting the inscription on the back. “Mon Coeur vous appartient toujours.” It
means my heart will always belong to you. You know I’m not the kind of girl who
gives my heart away, Charlie, but in Paris I had no choice. You took it, stole
it without permission and you have it still,” I said, sitting beside him.

He stared at me
silently for a moment, processing my words, gazing into my eyes and for a split
second the electricity was there, the spark was back. I could sense it; feel
it, but I couldn’t make the move. I couldn’t be the one to kiss him. He had to
believe this was his choice, his idea, because I knew when he kissed me he’d be
mine again.

I forgive you,
Charlie, and I love you,” I said, my heart somersaulting as he wrapped his hand
around my head, fingers clenching in my long red locks as he pulled my face to
his, resting his forehead against mine. My heart hammered through my chest,
wanting, waiting, needing him to kiss me as those full soft pink lips brushed
mine and I knew we were there, back where I needed to be as a huge wave of
relief flooded over me. It was Charlie. It had always been Charlie.

The kiss lasted
an eternity. His tongue gently exploring my mouth, slowly, tentatively as
wonderful and intoxicating as the very first time we’d kissed. Better. There
was more feeling, more love in my heart than I had every felt for anyone as I
weaved my fingers through his hair, moaning gently and leaning into him, giving
myself as completely and as openly as I was able. Gradually he grew more
frantic and I responded with everything I had. I needed him more than the very
air I breathed right now. He was hurting, he was sad and confused; for me, his
father, the brother who had never betrayed him and I wanted him to know it was
okay. I would take care of him now. He was mine.

He pulled back
suddenly and I knew from the look on his face that he wasn’t sure whether he’d
just made a huge mistake, lifting off the soft sweater as he eyes ran slowly
over the curves of my breasts, encased in sheer red lace as his breath hitched,
eyes darting to mine. I moved my fingers to his hair and pulled him back in. He
would not walk away now, I couldn’t let him, standing and removing my jeans,
straddling him and claiming him as he ran his hands over my silky smooth skin,
omitting the most primal groan from deep in his throat as I massaged his lips
with mine.

“I can’t do
this, Scarlett,” he said, pulling away suddenly as my face contorted in shock,
anger and frustration. I tried to rein it in. He was warring with himself as I
stood, letting his gaze roam slowly over my almost naked body. Now was the time
to get my head into gear if I wanted this to happen. He’d been wavering before
the break-up; it was why I’d booked Paris and why I’d bought the watch. I’d had
to know what was on his mind, what the threats were and who was putting a wedge
between us. I’d suspected it was Silus, but I hadn’t been sure. I couldn’t let
him remember that. He had to remember the good times.