Chapter Twenty-Seven
I wanted to bathe her myself, follow through on my promise to provide aftercare, but as I was preparing her bath, I knew seeing her naked would be the end of my willpower, because I wanted her beyond reason.
After I prepared the bathroom, I left her alone in there.
Within that pristine space made of marble and glass, I had given Willa a towel and invited her to use whatever products she liked.
I sat on the stairs listening out for her call in case she needed me.
Seeing her naked, her nipples peeking through the soapy bubbles, would have been my undoing.
Strange, to have Willa visit my sanctuary, a house where my happiest memories were anchored beside my deepest sorrows—I loved this place as much as I despised it.
Back at Pendulum, I had been driven wild watching Willa, her back to me, as she peered through the lens into the High Chamber. The way she arched her spine, both hands splayed on the wall, unwittingly showing off her thong, damp from her arousal.
My cock ached to be buried deep inside her then, as it did now. I ran my hands over my face to get a grip on my emotions.
But my memory kept dragging me back to that bliss. I’d admired her there, in the private room where submissives changed into whatever they wanted to be.
Had I witnessed Willa morphing into her authentic erotic self?
She’d been obsessed with what went on in the High Chamber. I replayed the sight of the curve of her figure, her long legs poised elegantly apart, ass cheeks seemingly begging for a slap or a caress or even the kiss of a whip. Making her play with herself, seeing her frenzied fingers on her clit as she followed my commands, was like an addiction I couldn’t cure.
But that would never happen again—and no one needed to know about it.
I’d gotten her out of Pendulum. That had been the mission.
She was here for me to debrief—I needed to make sure she understood the importance of never discussing what she’d seen. Scare tactics had no effect on her. Earning her trust and giving her the impression that we were allies would be my next approach—so I could protect her in the best way possible.
Still, it meant I’d broken a promise to Amelia. The one I’d made to her after she’d died. That I would never expose anyone to my lifestyle again.
Expose them to me.
I was a hazard to be around. My reputation, my life, my very existence was under threat and having a Cole near me would be a disaster for them.
Cameron himself had wanted to enter Pendulum to retrieve his sister, but Atticus and I had demanded it was best we go in after her.
Now, seeing her vulnerability, her desire to explore further, I was glad I’d risked returning to the place she’d unwittingly inserted herself into.
I got up and descended the rest of the steps, sensing Willa would soon be done.
Downstairs, I paused for a second to consider if Willa might like my modest kitchen, then shook off the ridiculous thought. It wasn’t like she’d ever come back after today.
I tried to see the kitchen as she might, the sleek contrast of marble and soapstone that elevated the room. High end appliances were seamlessly integrated into the design, their modern efficiency creating a space where function and beauty coexisted.
Spaces, they captivated me, and I’d often wondered if this was why I was put on this earth, to create the sublime.
Still, it wasn’t the same as you’d find in a billionaire’s mansion.
I shouldn’t even be thinking like this.
There were so many unanswered questions surrounding Amelia’s death. Why had she come here? Had she died in my pool while taking a midnight swim? We were still waiting on answers from the coroner—these things took too damn long.
I was haunted by that morning when Atticus and I had found her dead. This nightmare was devouring my every thought, and I felt my stomach twist in agony as I stared out the window at the sprawling lawn and garden and recalled seeing her face-down in the water.
Memories flooded in from when Amelia and I had spent precious days out there in the garden during a calmer time, simpler moments I had taken for granted. We had let the world fade away, finding a kind of peace.
But now, I knew without a doubt those moments had been a lie.
“I never loved you,” I muttered. “Even before I found out you were a lie.”
“What did she do?” Willa’s voice.
I squeezed my eyes shut realizing she was behind me.
When I turned around, she looked apologetic.
“Didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that.”
I drank in her presence, jealous of the moonlight caressing her. I wanted to storm over and pull her into an embrace. More than this, I craved knowing what it would be like to kiss her again. But the moon worshipped her better, dancing upon her skin, illuminating her ivory complexion.
Willa’s expressive eyes revealed her truth, that she was comfortable here with me, even content. She was wearing my white shirt, and the way it hung over her slender frame was endearing. Her dark locks cascaded over her shoulders in luxurious shimmering waves.
In this tranquil moment, I was completely enchanted by her.
“You’re hauntingly sublime,” I whispered.
“What did you say?”
I shook myself from this reverie, from this admiration of her effortless grace. It was easy to lose myself in thoughts of her, especially now that she stood before me wearing nothing but my Ralph Lauren shirt—and nothing underneath.
She was intoxicating.
“You don’t mind?” Her fingers caressed the shirt’s hem. “I have nothing else to wear.”
“Of course not. But I can look for another outfit.”
“This is fine.” She seemed shy. “You have a lovely home.”
“It’s just a house. A place to crash.”
A place to keep my stuff. A place I wanted to leave every second I was here—but I just couldn’t bring myself to abandon it.
Willa came closer and peered out the window toward the pool, frowning as though she could touch my pain.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” she said softly.
I gave her a nod.
“You must think of her every time you look out there.”
“I do.”
She started to say something else and then shook her head.
“Can I get you anything?” I asked. “Hungry?”
“I’m fine.”
“Warm enough?”
She nodded. “You have one of those old-fashioned tubs. I love them.”
It was an antique clawfoot tub, with graceful curves and intricate metal feet, its porcelain surface gleaming.
I hadn’t let Amelia use it.
Because that had been her room. The woman who rarely visited, but when she did, the sun would always shine. Such a long time ago now.
“Let’s pretend the last few hours never happened.” Willa smirked and it looked adorable.
“Do you mean what you saw? Or the fact I had a front-row seat to your voyeurism?”
“Do you have to put it like that?” She blushed wildly. “You really are kinky.”
I wanted to open my arms to her and have her fall against my chest, wanted to lift the hem of my shirt and trace a finger over her delicate folds, exploring her. I imagined lifting Willa up and setting her on the central island, nudging her back, spreading her legs and leaning in to taste her pussy, devouring it completely as she writhed and screamed in my kitchen.
But instead, I said, “You navigate this world with a sense of entitlement.”
Her smile faded, and it hurt me to hurt her.
Fuck.
Why did she have this effect on me, making me want her when I knew that she was forbidden fruit?
She raised her chin. “Tea?”
“Sure.”
She moved past me and began opening cupboards. I pointed to where I kept my packets of Cole Tea, and she nodded with approval. Of course, it had to be her brand or nothing at all.
She beamed. “You have excellent taste.”
“I do.” She didn’t need to know I meant her.
Willa broke down my defenses too easily, left me captivated, entranced by her in a way that had me forgetting to keep up my guard. I was undeniably drawn to her, lost in the pull of her presence.
But then again, any man would be—but most would know she was an impossible match. Willa reflected the elegance reminiscent of female icons who captivated everyone with their effortless charm.
“I can make it for you,” I said.
She waved a hand. “No, I’ll make it. Remember, my entitled tushy comes from an extensive line of tea connoisseurs.”
“I remember.”
She paused for a beat and then gave a nod of resignation, as though reminded that those around her would never forget her dynastic roots.
I should have told her how impressed I was at how she navigated the world so bravely, that I found her mischief admirable.
As a friend, I could say something like that but chose not to.
Just friends. It stung more than it should.
I turned away, trying to resist her captivating eyes.
“Stop overthinking things,” she said, bringing out two mugs. “Don’t be so mercurial.”
“I’m merely keeping my distance.”
She looked amused. “It’s not like you can’t control your obsession for me.”
That made me smile.
She was a little annoying—it was her confidence, not the fact I found her fascinating. She was like one of my complicated designs I was trying to solve, where the answer defied me.
I watched her again, savoring the way she confidently moved around my space, all feminine motion and easy smiles.
Having a Cole, famed for their brilliant infusions, knock up a brew for me was an experience of the ages. If anyone embodied the essence of tea royalty, it was her.
Within minutes, she set the piping hot mugs on the counter. With her approval, I added a splash of milk.
She moved over to the window and peered out, gazing up at the lone house that overlooked mine, her brow furrowing.
Before I could stop myself, I approached her, pulling her into my arms and lifting her onto the central island, then stepping forward between her thighs. From the way she lowered her gaze, she must have thought I was going to kiss her.
“Willa, I admire what you attempted to do tonight. But you must realize Pendulum is not the kind of place you belong. You had your fun. Knock this off your bucket list. Going back is never going to happen.”
She pushed my hand away, disappointment in her eyes.
“The story will never be written,” I added. “This evening must be forgotten. Never speak of what you saw.”
“Didn’t see anything.”
“Good girl.”
Her mouth parted at hearing those words, as though my endearment had lit her on fire with lust. Her eyelids fluttered, thighs spreading as she softened before me.
I had unwittingly stepped between her open thighs to get close enough to make my point, but that had been a mistake.
Her intoxicating scent affected my senses. I steadied myself against the shock of those sensations and unfolding emotions, making me feel I could finally breathe again.
“Are you still angry?” she asked coyly.
No, never that.
I’m not sure what made me do it, but I pulled her into a hug, and she rested her head against my chest. It was easy to wrap my arms around her, feeling as if an unspoken understanding had bloomed between us.
I breathed her in, smelling subtle vanilla, and something else, too, a bewitching perfume, her natural scent.
We were surrounded by a stillness, as though we’d stepped inside the center of a hurricane, and all the floating chaos and debris couldn’t touch us, not while we were in this embrace.
“I care about you,” she said softly, her face buried in my chest.
I smiled even though she couldn’t see it. “I can tell.”
“Shut up and enjoy the hug.”
“I’m not really a hugger…”
“You are now.”
“I’m more of a—”
“I know, I’ve seen what you like.”
“Actually, you haven’t.”
She made a quiet noise of approval and then chuckled.
She wasn’t grand or ostentatious, she was like that tea she’d made, a warm cup of sweetness on a chilly afternoon. A beacon of hope on a roiling ocean that had capsized me.
“I’m not going to fuck you,” I whispered.
“I’m not going to fuck you either.”
I eased us apart. “Okay, then.”
“Pass me my tea.”
I stepped back and found the space between us too cruel to bare, but I made sure not to show it.
Reaching for a mug, I offered her the side with the handle in case it was still hot.
She wrapped her palms around it and blew on the surface of the tea to cool it, causing the liquid to form ripples.
Watching the undulation of her tea, I recognized that gentle flow mirrored the balance of structure and fluidity in design. The curves and movement inspiring a thought, sparking the idea of a building that blended the same dynamic form with grounded stability, the simplicity sparking a vision.
“Greyson?” She called me back to the moment.
“Yes.”
“Where did you go?”
“Just thinking.”
“About?”
I smiled at her. “Everything inspires me.”
“I inspire you?”
“More than you know.”
She gave me a sweet smile. “You’re so talented and have such vision, I’m curious about something.”
“Go on.”
“You live in a house you didn’t design.”
“Fond memories.” The kind I was afraid might slip away if I walked away from this house.
“It’s beautiful, truly, but it’s not quite the kind of place I pictured you in.”
“I’m sure the right place will come along when it’s time.”
“Time for what?”
For me to let go…
I shrugged, refusing to answer.
“I want to talk about Pendulum,” she said.
I sighed. “Willa.”
“No, you don’t. Not when I have two brothers who are more than capable of patronizing me. This is important to me.”
“I respect that.”
This was clearly not just my problem. This was a conversation for another Cole. The one good at mind games and getting answers.
“Okay, talk to me.” Even though I knew someone was better equipped, I needed to watch out for her. “Why were you there? What are you working on? Did someone send you to cover a story?”
“It was my idea. No one else knew I’d be there.”
“What were you hoping to achieve?”
“I want to know more about Jewel Hadley.”
I lowered my gaze, hiding a grimace, hating that Jewel had any influence on Cole’s sister.
“You can’t go back to Pulse360, either,” I reasoned.
“Not so fast,” she said.
What did I have to say to keep her away from Pulse360?
“What is Jewel’s position at Pendulum?” she asked.
“Her brand of evil runs deep,” I said, my tone grave.
“What can be done?”
“We are on it.”
“I want to help.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Then what are you doing? Because from what I saw tonight she’s going about her life like nothing has changed.”
“What do you know?”
“Cameron filled me in.”
I guessed she was bluffing. “Her poison affects everything around her. Stay away from that woman.”
“Tell me more?”
“No.”
“Then why should I leave Pulse360? Give me a good reason to leave a job I deserve to have.”
I let the silence stretch between us. “Speak to your brother about her.”
“I told you I already have.”
Yeah, she didn’t know everything, and I doubted Cameron had told her the extent of what that woman was capable of.
I motioned for Willa to come down off the counter. “Come on, I need to get you something else to wear. You can’t leave the house like that.”
“I can’t stay?”
“He won’t let you.”
She looked horrified. “Is my brother on his way?” Her tone expressed betrayal. “I thought when you ran that bath, I was going to become…”
“My submissive?” I asked. “You don’t belong in our world. You have trouble managing yours.” I looked away, realizing how that sounded. “Willa, I’m sorry.”
She set her mug down and leaped off the island, knocking my hand away when I went to help her. “It’s good to know exactly what you think of me.”
“I respect you, but clearly that isn’t enough.”
“No, you don’t.”
The thought of her kneeling before me sent a shiver up my spine. To boldly control this woman, protect her, would be the ultimate achievement.
I had the urge to demand she kneel before me and let me take my place where I belonged, as her master, a man who would adore her.
I would keep her safe, keep her out of Pendulum.
“Just tell me why,” she said. “Tell me why it’s impossible for us…”
The sound of a car approaching the house caught our attention. Her brother was seconds from taking her away, and I couldn’t decide whether to be relieved or destroyed by Willa slipping through my fingers.
This is what’s best for her.
You are not.
I was going to have to be diligent so that Cameron couldn’t read my expression and see the truth…that I’d fallen for his sister.
We both stared at the kitchen tile as though it might offer up answers.
Finally, she looked up. “Let me help you find out what happened that night.” She pointed toward the pool. “In turn, you help me get the story that helps my career.”
“Absolutely not.”
Disappointment showed on her face.
Before she could object, I said, “You should go upstairs and change. There’s a pair of sweatpants in the guest room’s dresser.”
In silence, she left the kitchen, and I heard her climb the stairs.
A few minutes later, she returned downstairs, and we walked together down the hallway toward the front door.
Willa tilted her head to look up at me. “You have security.”
She’d seen me deactivate it on the way in. “Yes.”
“Well, you have a camera at the back door, in the kitchen. Doesn’t that tech record if you go out during the night? If you didn’t deactivate it that’s your alibi.”
My mouth went dry, it was so obvious. Atticus and Cameron had to have considered that, too. In my sad fugue state, I’d not considered this because I had not felt like I needed an alibi.
Should Atticus and Cameron explore the security data, they’d have the answer they needed. Was this why they hadn’t asked to see it. For fear they’d see proof it was me who’d harmed Amelia?
Either they were protecting me or trying to solve this case themselves.
Cameron was willingly to let me spend time with his sister—which had to mean he knew I was innocent.
“Thank you for the tea,” she said.
“It was a gift from your brother.” I shrugged. “But you’re welcome.”
Willa took a few more seconds to brace herself and then walked out without looking back.
I’d saved her tonight, but she didn’t see it like that. She hurried toward the parked car.
From behind the wheel, Cameron threw me a wave of thanks, his jaw taut with frustration.
Willa climbed into the passenger side of the BMW.
I saw them swap pleasant smiles, but I knew her sitting there wearing my shirt wasn’t a good look.
Finally, when she did look my way, my heart squeezed with relief that she was back in safe hands, relatively unscathed.
As they set off down the driveway, the first tendrils of agony drew around me, darkening my sky, causing my throat to tighten with dread.
This is loneliness.
The stark bleakness of this house has found me again.
This place was already sad, but Amelia’s death had ruined it.
I’d let her close, too close, and now trusting someone again made my heart twist with doubt. I’d poured the best of my soul into her and yet she was never meant to own it.
The woman I had welcomed into my life had ultimately betrayed me and everyone around me—yet when she’d died, the pain still cut me deeply.
It was Willa who had brought a sense of renewal to my damaged soul. All she had to do was stand in my kitchen, in my shirt, and be herself.
She deserved everything a good man could possibly give her—every ounce of love.
Every secret moment we had shared, every whispered promise that danced between us, carried the thrill of the forbidden. But I knew with unshakable certainty that no love could ever be too deep for her.
She deserved the best the world could offer, and I sent out a silent prayer that she would find him—the man who could love her completely.