Written By Fate (15 page)

“Nine. Got it,” I repeat. He brushes a light kiss across my
lips as the driver opens the door for me. “See you then,” I smile.

Trust Me

I let the hot spray of the shower wash over me as I try to
make sense of yesterday’s lunch. I slept like crap last night. Nightmares
riddled my broken sleep, the worst of which had Charlie finding Allie and
taking her away from me. I’d finally given up on the idea of sleep and turned
the TV on low, trying to nap and rest instead. At five in the morning I’d
switched on my phone. I had twenty texts from Sawyer varying from worry to
anger to hate and then heartbreak and begging. I replied to none of them. I
deleted all the voicemails without listening to them. In two days I’d be on way
home and dealing with a breakup that I really didn't want to have to do. There
would be enough hurt to go around then. Switching my phone to silent, I plug it
in and set it on the nightstand, feeling like the worst person on the planet.
Allie would be heartbroken when all of this was done. I never wanted to hurt
her. I never wanted to hurt Sawyer either but when Dominic blew into my world
he up heaved everything I’d carefully created like a tornado and when it all
came crashing back down it was beyond repair. Hopping out of the shower I dress
and blow dry my hair. As I pull the mascara wand through my eyelashes the room
phone rings. I stick the wand back in the tube and answer the phone.

“Hello?” I chirp.

“Good morning.” Dom’s voice booms through the phone
energetically.

“Morning to you,” I say as a smile tugs on my lips.

“Pack your things. I’m checking you out of the hotel. I’ll
be there in thirty,” he states before disconnecting the call. I set the phone
back on the receiver and wonder what the hell he has planned for the next two
days. I finish my light make-up and start throwing all my stuff into my
suitcase as asked. At nine I schlep myself and my shit into the lobby and find
Dom leaning against a column looking sexy as hell waiting for me. His tight
fitting Henley hugs his muscled torso and his worn jeans hang low on his hips.
He looks like a normal guy, not a millionaire, and I like it. After staring a
little too long, his lips twitch and he pushes off the column and struts over
to me, taking my suitcase from my hands.

“Did you have a good evening?” he asks, looking me over.

“I didn't sleep well,” I admit.

“I can remedy that tonight,” he grins. “By the way, I’m
sticking to your no-touching policy for the remainder of your stay.”

“What?” I snort.

“I think you were onto something. If you’re going to trust
me we need to slow down. Take things as they come. I need to earn your trust,
Clara,” he says, brushing my hair over one shoulder. The contact makes me
shiver. Dom notices and grins devilishly at me. Two can play this game.

“Okay,” I say innocently and glance up at him through my
lashes before gently biting my lip and brushing against him. He groans low and
deep while ushering me to the car.

“I’m taking you somewhere. We’ll be flying. Wednesday
morning I’ll have you flown back Virginia,” he says cryptically.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” he answers, taking my hand in his and
lacing our fingers together. I look at the hold he has on my hand and narrow my
eyes at him.

“What are you doing?” I quip playfully.

“Ah, no touching means we sleep in separate beds, our lips
do not touch and we definitely do not have sex,” he retorts quickly. “Hand
holding, hugging, and snuggling are all acceptable.”

“Well it sounds as though someone has really given this some
thought,” I chuckle at him.

“Clara, I’d like to do this the right way this time.” His
voice is serious and sincere and I don't know what to say so I don't say
anything at all.

We quietly chat during the short drive to the plane. It’s
comfortable and pleasant and there isn't any tension, which is new for us. The
plane ride is about four hours long and as I look out the window I wonder where
the hell we are. There is a dirt runway in the middle of the forest and it
looks as though that’s where we are landing. Glancing nervously at Dom I ask,
“Uh, is everything all right?”

“Yes. That’s my runway,” he chuckles at me. With my panic
subsiding, I look back out the window. Deep green forest covers the surrounding
land. Near the end of the runway is a lake or pond that glistens in the sun and
at the far side of the lake sits a gorgeous cabin. A golf cart awaits us as we
deplane and I narrow my eyes at Dom.

“A golf cart?” I ask, sniggering.

“Shh,” he whispers. “I’m not pomp and circumstance all the
time. I’m prepared to show you the real Dominic Napoli but you have to keep
quiet. I can’t have my reputation slandered.” He laughs. This should be
interesting. Is this all for show or does he really have a laidback side?

“Well, I promise not to tarnish your ostentatious reputation,”
I say with snark as he straps our bags to the back of the cart. He pats the
seat next to him. “Hop in princess.” His grin reaches from ear to ear and is
infectious. Climbing in next to him, the backs of my thighs stick to the
sun-warmed leather seats.

“Let’s go.” I clap and give him my best “I’m super excited” face.
He chuckles at me and puts the golf cart in gear and starts buzzing along a
well-worn path. The further we drive the more the trees open up, revealing a
stunning mountain cabin that sits on a lake. “Welcome to my retreat,” he says,
pulling up to the side of the house. He grabs our bags and nods for me to
follow him inside.

The large great room has a floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace
adjacent to a wall of windows that offer a breath-taking view of the private
lake. There are three bedrooms, two and a half baths, and the master bathroom
has a corner soaking tub and a view to kill for.

There’s a full cook's kitchen, and a dining room and living
room with wood-burning fireplaces. A large flat-screen TV hangs on the wall
above the fireplace, and built-in shelving houses hundreds of books, board
games, and decks of cards. The kitchen is fully equipped with a stainless steel
refrigerator, microwave, stove, coffee maker, and toaster. The furniture looks
comfortable and worn in, giving everything a homey feel. The great room boasts
a baby grand piano my fingers itch to play. It’s nothing like the suite in
Boston that I saw or his luxurious yacht. I move past him as he follows me
around to the sliding doors overlooking the lake. Sliding it open and stepping
out, there are four Adirondack chairs, a table, and a gorgeous built-in grill.
“Holy shit, Dom. This is amazing,” I breathe while taking it all in. “Where are
we?”

He sneaks up behind me as I look out over the railing of the
deck and wraps his arms around my shoulders. “We’re only forty-five minutes
north of Blacksburg, actually. I had this built three years ago. Contrary to
what the rags publish, I spend most of my time here. This is my home.” I spin
around in his embrace to face him.

“You live here,” I state.

“As much as I can. Yes,” he answers my non-question. My mind
reels with conflicting thoughts. This is peaceful and although large for just
one man, moderately normal. Not at all like the Dominic I know. “Let’s get
lunch going, shall we?” he asks, breaking my train of thought.

“Sure. I’m starved,” I agree. After showing me which
cabinets house what, we move around the kitchen effortlessly together. I make a
garden and pasta salad while he seasons fresh ground beef and shapes it into
patties before bringing them to the grill. The late afternoon sun makes the
lake shimmer and casts a warm glow over the trees at its banks.

“Do you like what you do?” I ask after swallowing a bite of
my burger. Dom gazes at me curiously before answering.

“Why would you ask that?”

“Because I want to know,” I retort playfully.

“I suppose so. I’m good at what I do...at making money.”

“That’s hardly an answer. Do you like it? Are you passionate
about it?” I push, wanting to know more about this mystery man with a million
different layers. He stares out over the water and sets his burger down.

“No. I’m not passionate about it. I was groomed to be a
leader. I followed suit in that regard. I love travelling. Hotels seemed like a
natural fit. The club scene is just a bonus money maker, really. I like the
benefits that come from the work I do,” he answers hesitantly.

“If you didn't care about salary what would you do?”

“I don't know. I’ve never really given it much thought,” he
says honestly.

“Okay, well, what are you passionate about?” I try.

“You,” he answers without hesitation, making me laugh.

“Besides me, stud.”

“Hmm...I love music, although I can’t play a lick or sing. I
love my motorcycle and taking long rides through the mountains. I love the way
the human body works. Maybe in another life I would have been a personal
trainer. I have a strange love affair with working out,” he chuckles.

“Well it’s working for you so keep at it,” I flirt.

“What about you, Clara?”

“Isn’t that obvious? I love art, drawing, creating. I have
my dream job. It doesn't make me millions and it’s far from traditional,
especially as far as moms go, but it pays the bills and satisfies my creative
side.” The words leave my mouth like a well-thought-out speech but it’s the honest-to-God
truth. I adore my work.

“You must be telling the truth. Your eyes light up when you
talk about it. That’s a very lucky thing...not everyone gets to follow their
dreams and make ends meet,” he says softly.

“I’m not saying it was easy. It was incrementally harder having
Allie to feed, too, but I managed. And then Sawyer came along and we managed
together. Allie’s been hanging out in tattoo parlors since she was born.
Sometimes the only way I could get her to stop crying was to turn on the gun.
The sound of the buzz soothed her. I couldn't afford daycare so she just came
with. I’m sure later down the round that will end up scarring her, but it is
what it is,” I ramble, remembering how she used to sleep in a laundry basket
next to my stool while I worked.

“Allie seems to be just fine,” he says gently. “What exactly
is the story with Sawyer?” he probes. I take a deep breath and decide to just
shoot straight.

“We met when Allie was four, and ended up dating. It fizzled
out fast but he stuck around as a friend and we’ve been a threesome ever since.
He’s all Allie knows of a dad. Going home is going to be torture. Allie adores
him. I don't want to hurt him and he adores us. I don't know what will happen
when I tell him it’s over...like really over,” I lament, wondering if he’ll
stay in the house or move out or if he’ll kick me out. This is going to be a
giant shit show. How will we run the shop together? I rake a hand through my
hair and sigh. I can feel a tension headache coming on just from thinking about
what happens next. Dom appears at my side. “Don’t think about that right now,”
he breathes in my ear and moves behind me. His hands come to my shoulders and
he starts to knead the tension from my neck and upper back. It feels heavenly.
I moan from the sheer pleasure his strong fingers are bringing and suddenly his
hands are gone.

“Don’t stop,” I whine and tilt my head back to look at him.

“I can’t just rub your shoulders when you moan like that,” he
says, looking a little sheepish. I can't help the laughter that rolls out of me
as he takes his seat across from me again.

“I had no idea I affected you so strongly,” I giggle. Jesus.
I don't giggle, it’s lame. What is wrong with me?

“You are bewitching, Clara,” he says seriously as his eyes
beam lust at me. I suck in a sharp breath and look out over the water.

“I’m a lot of things, Dom. Bewitching isn’t one of them.”

“What are you then?” he asks.

“I’m a bitch. I’m a liar, and I’m horribly selfish,” I
admit.

“I can see two of those things, but they aren't turn-offs
for me. Explain the lying,” he pushes.

“I can’t.” My defensive walls close in around my heart,
violently urging me to shut the hell up and change the conversation. “What card
games do you know? I saw a deck of cards, shall we play a drinking game?” I
offer.

“A drinking game, alone in a house with you? I’m not sure
that's a great idea. How about a walk around the lake instead?” he offers.

“That could work too, I suppose.”

Dom shows me to the room he set my suitcase in. I change and
pull my hair into a ponytail before heading back downstairs to meet him. When I
get there he’s in board shorts and a tee shirt and looks delicious. This is
going to be a long forty-eight hours. “Do I need a suit?” I ask, taking in the
way his suit hangs from his hips.

“You might want one,” he replies. I dart back up the steps,
pull my clothes off, and slip into my bikini before redressing and meeting him
at the kitchen door.

“Okay. Ready,” I state as he opens the door for me. Dom
leads us to a path that circles the lake. It’s dusk and getting dark out but I
trust that he knows the way. Once we’re about twenty minutes into our trek he
stops and strips off his shirt. Without a second thought he barrels towards the
shore and cannonballs into the water. I stand gaping at the ripples that he
left behind. Who is this guy? His head pops up and he beckons me to join him in
the water. His abandon is contagious and I find myself stripping off my
clothes.

“Are you sure it’s not freezing?” I ask standing at the edge
of the lake. Dom swims up eyeing me heatedly. I knew I liked this suit. “It’s
fine. Get in,” he quips. I take a step back and jump into the water without
further thought. The water is freezing as I plunge in. My head breaks through
the surface and I sputter.

“It’s freezing!” I squeal. His laughter booms from the
shoreline. The jerk is already out of the water. I swim quickly to the edge and
take his hand as he reaches it out to me. He tugs roughly and sends me flying
onto the grass landing on top of him. Our slick skin slides against each other.
He’s warm and soft and I want to do dirty things to him.