9th January
Switzerland
THE young prince was quite the Renaissance man, I had discovered. He had skills on the slopes, and with the ladies as well. No wonder his grandfather was worried about him. The lad might very well be in some real serious danger here at XT Europe.
Of death-by-fucking.
The screaming shag-party he had going right now on the other side of the wall, fouled my mood even further. I was in sheer hell here—the teenage fuckathon next door notwithstanding. What I needed was to speak to Brynne and to hear her voice. The one thing might make the next days marginally bearable.
We hadn’t parted well at all. A hideous row over keeping secrets. When the photos of her meeting Oakley were sent out in a Tweet, I received the alert straight away. I was utterly shocked of course, but when she got home, and I realized she wasn’t going to tell me why she would go behind my back to meet the man who ruined her life and nearly gotten her killed—I lost it.
Lost. Exactly how I feel right now, without my girl.
I topped off my glass from the bottle of Van Gogh and took a swig. My drink of choice—when I needed it. I surely fucking needed it to get to sleep tonight if the “oh, fuck yes’s” and “yeah, baby’s” didn’t shut off soon. Surely His Royal Highness would be shagged to within an inch of his life soon, and quiet might be a possibility. Please, blessed Christ.
Brynne didn’t tell me anything about her visit with Oakley, during, or even after our row. I still didn’t know why she’d gone to meet him. Maybe I would never know.
She just kept telling me the same thing over and over. I can’t talk about it right now, Ethan, and you’ll have to just accept that until something changes for me.
When I pushed her to tell me, she got angry and bit back with accusations about Sarah and our “private” meetings, saying I was shutting her out in favour of Sarah. Was I? I didn’t think so, but then, when Brynne asked why Sarah had been to the flat to see me that night, I couldn’t tell her. I wasn’t ready yet.
Her face had revealed how hurt she was, but I imagined mine did, too. We’d never quite been in this position before in our relationship. Both of us standing our ground on silent issues that had shaped so much of how we were made. It bloody sucked.
I think we could have worked things out if we’d had more time.
There had been no time, though. I’d had to come to this shitting job and leave her behind, pregnant and sad, and on her own. Well, not totally on her own. Neil and Elaina were keeping a close watch for me.
My girl and I were due some serious attention to our problems when I returned, and I’d said as much to her when I had to leave very early the next morning.
She had tears in her eyes, which were red and swollen, when she nodded and agreed with me.
When I kissed her goodbye, her sweet lips melted beneath mine and her arms came up to hold me tightly against her scented softness. I hated to pull away. I had to though, and it fucking hurt me to have to do it. I had hope we’d solve our differences, and work through the doubts both of us were carrying. I wouldn’t accept any other alternative.
She held my face with her hands and told me, “Come back to me.” I knew her words meant more than just my physical presence. I understood what she meant.
“Nothing could ever stop me from coming back to you,” I said. “Or you, little one,” I whispered against her belly.
And I believed that.
THE banging that woke me was not the nice kind. In fact, whoever was doing it might need a lesson in etiquette, via my fists if they didn’t stop fucking about.
“Ethan! Get up, man! We want to go for a backcountry run!”
I blinked at the bedside clock. 3:12 a.m. Stumbling out of my warm bed, I answered the door to find my young charge geared up and grinning wide.
“Now?” I barked. “You’re going up now, Christian?” I might have hoped I was dreaming him in front of me, but sadly, I knew I wasn’t.
He laughed, “Yeah, man, suit up. It’s a dead day otherwise. We leave now and can be up at the top by daylight. I need to blow off some steam before tomorrow.”
“You didn’t already? What was all the shag-racket from earlier then?” It was a valid question. When the fuck did this kid sleep was another. He had the world at his feet with his money, good-looks, royal status, and celebrity. He had it all going for him. I couldn’t really blame Christian for any of that, but he still managed to annoy the motherfucking shit out of me.
“That was just my bedtime story.” He shrugged happily and teetered on his toes, looking wired and anxious to get going. I highly doubted he was on anything because if he was he’d be DQ’d for doping and his snowboarding career finished. I think it was just his natural exuberance…and being bloody nineteen years old. Good Lord Bollocks. If our child is this hyper, I am fucked. Might as well crawl into an early grave and get it over with.
I shook my head at him and rolled my eyes. “Give me a minute to get my kit together, would you?”
“Sure thing, man.” He grinned again, and for the first time in my life I felt rather old.
CHRISTIAN and his entourage of four compatriots chose deep snow not far off-piste, but I didn’t let that give me a false sense of security because I was well aware there were risks to doing it. I told them straight up before we set out, to have their shovel and probe kit in their packs and their beacons on them. I’d seen how people become euphoric in the backcountry, and lose sight of danger. Snowpack could change so quickly, and a span of just a few feet could have different conditions. I’d witnessed skiers on slopes right next to avalanche slides like it was a completely normal thing to do. Some of them ended up dead eventually, from just that sort of mentality, too.
“Remember what I said—aim your board towards any trees or the ridge of the mountain if you hear a roaring sound behind you.” I eyeballed each one. “And don’t slow your ride. Keep going no matter what.”
Christian snickered, his eyes laughing at me. “Yes, Dad,” he said. I noticed the colour of his eyes was like Brynne’s—they changed with the light, and with different hues of clothing. It made me miss her even more.
“I’m serious. You do not fuck about when it comes to an avalanche.”
THE third off-piste they chose was not a good prospect. I told them no. Too much fresh powder, with little time to settle, equaled too much risk.
The lads didn’t agree and were hell-bent on going down. Lukas and Tobias called first-tracks and were off before I could call them back. Jakob and Felix started out right behind them. “Huck it, Ethan—if not now, when?” Christian shouted gleefully before he sailed down, his neon green jacket in my sights.
My choice was made for me at that point and I had to follow him.
I’m not sure who triggered it, but I heard the roar before I saw the cloud.
Bad news.
I cut toward a scrub of trees and grabbed the biggest one I could find and held on. A churning rush of snow blasted me off the tree and sent me arse-over-tit down the mountain. I lost sight of anything, or anyone, and could only pray the lads were riding off the sides to safety.
Jolted violently below the waist, I heard a snap. No pain, just an awareness of coming to rest on a rock outcropping. An overhang which saved me from being buried by the second wave that followed about a minute later.
WHEN I opened my eyes I could see the sky, which was a good sign. Meant I wasn’t buried under feet of snow. I could breathe. I looked down and discovered what the snapping sound had been about. My left boot was turned 180 degrees. I knew it was quite probable I’d sustained a compound fracture. Fuck. I struggled to sit up and take stock of my location.
I’d been pushed so far off the main slide, my field of vision offered nothing beyond swaths of white. Bright drops of red spattered in the snow. I felt a tickle along the side of my face, but couldn’t tell through the gloves where the blood was coming from.
First order of business was to activate the beacon, so I did that, and then checked out my leg. Fucking thing was so bashed. Hiking out was not going to happen. Board was long lost from my cartwheel down the mountain.
I took a deep breath and gripped my calf. I counted to three, and twisted it to where it was supposed to be…and passed the fuck out.
SO very cold. I registered the icy temperature, but had no idea how much time had passed. Could be minutes. Or hours. Probably not hours, though. Hours up here would kill me from hypothermia. Was I dying?
No. No! I refused to believe I was. My body could withstand more than this, and had in the past. I was strong. I couldn’t die. I had to get back to Brynne…and our baby. I couldn’t leave them alone. They both needed me. I promised her I would come back. I wasn’t going to die up here.
All I needed was to get warm. Warm. Brynne was warm. The warmest place I could imagine was Brynne wrapped around me when I was making love to her. Brynne was my warm, safe place, right from the very first. And even if my conscious mind didn’t know it at the time, my heart most certainly did.
I went to where I could feel her warmth…
…I knew the moment when she stepped into the room. The real Brynne Bennett was even more captivating in the flesh than in her portrait—which gratefully, now belonged to me. She sipped from a glass of champagne and studied her image on the gallery wall. I wondered how she saw herself. Was she confident? Unforgiving? Or somewhere in between?
“There’s my girl.” Clarkson said, hugging her from behind. “It’s smashing isn’t it? And you have the most beautiful feet of any woman on the planet.”
“Everything you do looks good, Ben, even my feet.” She turned around and asked him, “So, you sell anything yet? Let me rephrase. How many have you sold?”
I could hear everything they said to each other.
“Three so far and I think this one’s going very soon,” Clarkson said. “Don’t be obvious, but see the tall bloke in the grey suit, black hair, speaking with Carole Andersen? He’s inquired. Seems he’s quite taken by your gorgeous naked self. Probably going to go for a good palm session soon as he can get the canvas all to himself. How’s that make you feel, Brynne luv? Some rich toff pulling his pud to the sight of your unearthly beauty.”
I fucking wish. They get to keep it for six long months.
“Shut up, that’s just nasty. Don’t tell me things like that or I’ll have to stop taking jobs.” She shook her head at him like he was daft. “It’s a damn good thing I love you, Benny Clarkson.” “It’s true though,” Clarkson rambled along, “and that chap hasn’t stopped eyeballing you since you glided in here. And he’s not gay.”
“You’re going to hell, Benny, for saying such things,” she told him as she looked over and checked me out. I could feel her eyes on me, but I kept to my conversation with the director and played it cool.
“I’m right, huh?” Clarkson asked her.
“About the jerking off? No possible way, Benny! He’s far too beautiful to have to resort to his hand for an orgasm.”
Oh, fuck. I couldn’t help my stare then. Impossible to look away when I’d just heard those words come out of her mouth. She likes what she sees. References to my cock and getting off—from her—and a whole new game plan reorganized itself in that moment. I had to meet her tonight, and that was all there was to it.
But she got spooked and gulped down her champagne, and said goodbye to her friend.
Wait, don’t go yet.
I watched her contemplate whether to hail a cab or walk. Her legs were long and fucking gorgeous, anybody could see that, and when she turned towards the station I knew she’d made her decision. I couldn’t allow it. If someone was after her they’d have the perfect opportunity as she walked alone, and the thought of anybody wanting to hurt her did something to my insides I’d never felt before.
“It’s a very bad idea, Brynne. Don’t risk it. Let me give you a ride.”
She froze on the pavement, and turned stiffly to face me. “I don’t know you at all,” she said.
You will, beautiful American girl…you will.
I smiled at her and gestured toward the Rover, not even very much aware of what the fuck I was doing. I just needed to get closer.
But she took a deep swallow and a defensive stance, and called my bluff. “Yet you call me by name and—and expect me to get in a car with you? Are you crazy?”
Barking mad. I came closer and offered my hand. “Ethan Blackstone.”
“How do you even know my name?” God, I loved the sound of her voice…sexy as fuck all.
“I just bought Brynne’s Repose from the Andersen Gallery for a nice sum not fifteen minutes ago. And I’m fairly sure I’m not mentally impaired. Sounds more PC than crazy don’t you think?”
She tentatively reached out her hand. I took it. I grabbed hold of her and covered her hand with mine. The instant our bodies touched something happened inside my chest. A spark, heat—I don’t know what, but something. God, her eyes were unusual. I couldn’t say what their colour was precisely. I didn’t care though, I just wanted to look at them for a long fucking time and figure it out.
“Brynne Bennett.”
“And now we know each other—Brynne, Ethan.” I gestured with my head toward the Rover. “Will you let me take you home?”
She swallowed again, her lovely throat moving in a slow pull. “Why do you care so much?”
Easy answer, that. “Because I don’t want anything to happen to you? Because those heels look lovely at the end of your legs, but will be hell to walk in? Because it’s dangerous for a woman alone at night in the city?” I couldn’t help looking her up from head to toe to make my point. She must know how fucking hot she was. “Especially one that looks like you, Miss Bennett.”
“What if you’re not safe?”
If she only knew why I was here. I wonder what she would say to me then.
“I still don’t know you or anything about you, or if Ethan Blackstone is your real name.”
Miss Brynne Bennett was a smart girl. I admired her honesty and pluck in not giving in to ride with a complete stranger, with no fuss at all. She was Tom Bennett’s daughter all right.
“You have a point in that. And it’s one I can rectify easily.” I showed her my driving licence and handed her a business card. “You may keep that,” I told her. “I’m very busy at my job, Miss Bennett. I have absolutely no time for a hobby as a serial killer, I promise you.”
She laughed.
It was the most beautiful fucking sound I’d ever heard.
“Good one, Mr. Blackstone.” She put my card away, and then she said something that really pleased me. “All right. You can give me a ride.”
Oh yeah, baby, I can. Thoughts of just how I could give her a ride made my cock sit up and take notice. I couldn’t help my grin. Miss Bennett had absolutely no idea what she was doing to me with her innocent comments. If I ever got the chance to give her a ride in my bed, it would be a long and memorable one for sure, because I didn’t take women to my bed. I think she could be the exception to my rule though.
What in the mother fuck is wrong with you?! I thought, as I put my hand to her back and steered her towards the Rover. I liked how she allowed me to do it. And I could finally smell her. Flowery, feminine, and fucking amazing. I wondered if the scent was perfume or something she used on her hair. Whatever it was, I wanted to bury my nose up against her neck and get a lungful of it—she smelled that good to me.
I settled her into her seat and felt a thrill once I’d shut myself in with her. I had this beautiful girl alone in my car with me. She was safe and nobody was going to get to her while she walked alone in the dark. I could also talk to her, and listen to her voice. I could smell her, and look at her, admire her long legs folded in the seat beside me, and imagine how it would be having those beautiful legs split on either side of my cock…
I asked her where she lived.
“Nelson Square in Southwark.”
Not the best location, but could be worse. “You are American,” I said, thinking of nothing better.
“I am here on scholarship at the University of London. Graduate program.”
I knew that of course, but I really wanted to know about her other job. “And the modelling?”
My question flustered her. Understandable, I suppose. I knew what she looked like naked. Fucking spectacular. “Um, I—I posed for my friend, the photographer, Benny Clarkson. He asked me, and it helps pay the bills, you know?”
“Not really, but I do love the portrait of you, Miss Bennett.” I kept my eyes on the road.
She did not like my questioning her. It made her defensive. I swear, she literally sizzled in her seat before letting me have it.
“Well, my own personal international corporation never came through like yours did, Mr. Blackstone. I resorted to modelling. I like sleeping in a bed as opposed to a park bench. And heat. The winters here suck!”
Oh, fuck, yeah, she’s amazing. “In my experience, I’ve found many things here that suck.” I glanced over and pegged her glittering eyes, moving down to her lips, imagining them wrapped around my cock, thoroughly enjoying winding her up by my reply.
“Well, we agree on something then.” She rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes.
“Headache?”
“Yeah. How did you know?”
I got the chance to take another long, leisurely look at her. “Merely a guess. No dinner, just the champagne you gulped back at the gallery, and now it’s late and your body is putting up a protest.” I tilted my head. “How’d I do?”
She looked at me as if her mouth had gone dry.
“I just need two aspirin and some water and I’ll be fine.”
That’s no good at all. “When did you last eat some food, Brynne?”
“So, we’re back to first names again?”
Yes, we are, baby. I didn’t like her not taking care of herself. She needed to eat like everyone else. After a moment she said something about making food when she got home. At this late hour? For fuck’s sake, that will simply not do, Brynne.
I pulled into a corner shop and told her to stay in the car, I’d be right back. I got her a bottled water, a packet of Nurofen and a protein bar that looked palatable. I just hoped she would accept them from me.
“What did you need to get in the store—”
Not a worry. She took the water as soon as she spotted it and started drinking. I removed the pills from the packet for her and held them open in my hand. She took those too, and gulped them down, draining the bottle quickly. I set the protein bar on her knee.
“Now eat it—please.”
She sighed, a long, shuddering breath that made my cock twitch again, and opened the bar slowly. But something changed in her demeanor as she took a bite and started chewing. I sensed melancholy from her when she bowed her head and whispered, “Thank you.”
“My pleasure. Everyone needs the basics, Brynne. Food, water…a bed.”
She didn’t respond to my subtle reprimand.
“What’s your actual street address?” I asked.
“41 Franklin Crossing.”
I headed back on the road and in a moment, heard her mobile chirp. She responded to a text and seemed to relax a bit after that. A few moments later, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.
Having her comfortable and feeling safe with me flipped some kind of switch inside my head. I couldn’t say what exactly, because it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. I just knew I fucking liked the feeling. I did something reckless then. I wasn’t proud of what I did, but that didn’t stop me from doing it. I carefully took her mobile from her lap and called my number with it.
“Brynne, wake up.” I leaned in and touched her shoulder, speaking close enough to smell her natural scent. Her eyelids twitched erratically, the long lashes sweeping down onto creamy skin with just a hint of olive to it. Was she dreaming? Her lips were full and dark pink, barely parted as she breathed. A few loose strands of her long brown hair fell over one cheek. I wanted to lift it to my nose and smell it.
Her eyes fluttered open, flaring wide as she became aware of me.
“Shit! I’m sorry I—I fell asleep?” She grappled with the door latch frantically, the sound of panic in her voice.
I covered her hand with mine and stilled her. “Easy. You’re safe, everything’s fine. You just drifted off is all.”
“Okay…sorry.” She panted deeply, looked out the window, and then back to me warily.
“Why do you keep apologizing?” She seemed very rattled, and I wanted nothing more than to soothe her fears, but at the same time—I was annoyed with the strange sensation of which I had absolutely no purposeful reason to be feeling.
“I don’t know,” she whispered at me.
“Are you okay?” I smiled, hoping I wasn’t freaking her out. I didn’t like the idea of her being afraid of me, but I did want her to remember me after tonight. I wanted her to trust me, too.
“Thank you for the ride. And the water. And the other stu—”
I interrupted her, knowing I had to take charge so there would be another opportunity for me to meet her again. “You take care of yourself, Brynne Bennett.” I unlocked the door. “You have your key ready? I’ll wait until you’re inside. What floor is it?”
She retrieved her key from her bag and put her mobile into it. “I live in the top studio loft, fifth floor.”
“Roommate?”
“Well, yes, but she’s probably not in.”
What was she thinking? I so wanted to know what she thought of me, if she was interested in finding out anything more about me. “I’ll look for the light to come on then,” I said.
She opened her door and stepped out. “Goodnight, Ethan Blackstone,” she said to me before she shut the door.
I followed her with my eyes as she made her way to her door, used her key and went inside. I waited until I saw the light come on in her fifth-floor loft before I pulled out.
I didn’t know exactly what I felt, or what might happen when I drove away from her place. But I did know this: I would be seeing Brynne Bennett again. Most definitely. There was no other option I would accept on the matter…
I smiled to myself because I didn’t feel the cold anymore. My leg hurt, but I knew it really didn’t matter now. I felt warm, and I was in my safe place with my memories of Brynne, where everything was good and right. She was my light and had been from the first moment I looked upon her beauty. She’d loved me, and held me together, when I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to work that miracle. We were going to have a baby soon. Thinking of our baby made me happy, but very sad at the same time. I couldn’t see my child in the place where I was going. He or she wouldn’t ever know me. But Brynne would tell our son or daughter about me. She would be such a wonderful mother. She already was. Brynne was good at everything she did and motherhood was no different. I knew there wasn’t much time left for me. I couldn’t keep my promise to her. That ripped into my heart worse than anything could. I’d promised I would come back to her. I’d said that nothing could ever keep me from coming back to her.
I desperately wanted to tell her how much I loved her, and how happy she’d made me in our time together. How I could go away, knowing I’d been loved by the most perfect woman in the world? That she was the only person to ever really see inside my dark soul to find me—and still made me feel like I’d won the fucking national lottery of life. It didn’t hurt me so much knowing my life would be cut short. The joyfulness was in knowing she’d been a part of it.
Brynne was my life. The last piece of my puzzle that had finally completed me.
I just needed a way to tell her somehow, so she wouldn’t worry about me. I wanted her to know how happy I was at the end of my life…because I’d been blessed with the rare and precious gift…of loving her.
