Chapter Thirteen
Aiden
THE GONDOLA GLIDES beneath a stone bridge. An Italian song is playing softly through the speakers lining the boat as the gondolier navigates the waterways of Venice.
It’s after midnight. The masquerade will go on until two or three in the morning. But after hours spent among the crowds, I found myself craving the quietness of our hotel apartment.
Seraphina is seated next to me, her head on my shoulder, one arm looped through mine. She’s been quiet since we left, contemplative. Every now and then she’ll turn to look at a passing building, but she’s otherwise muted.
“Everything all right?”
She nods. “Just a long day.”
I turn my head and press a kiss to her forehead. Her body relaxes as she utters a soft sigh.
“Thank you,” I murmur against her skin.
“For what?”
“For everything.”
Randolph bought our ruse because of her. Seraphina knew exactly what to say, faced him head-on when men with numerous job titles and fat salaries have cowered before Randolph.
“You’re welcome.”
The first notes of the next song begin to play. Soft at first, with the gentle singing of a choir. I freeze as the familiar strains flow over me, catapulting me back to a cramped, moldy apartment and a scratchy record player on the floor.
I can see my mom so clearly, standing at the window and looking out across the trash-strewn courtyard of our apartment.
Can see the dreamy look on her face as Luciano Pavarotti’s voice swells to impossible heights.
I remember how she reached down and scooped David into her arms and swung him about the apartment, his little giggles filling that wretched space with a moment of happiness.
“Aiden?”
Emotion chokes me. My arm tightens around Seraphina.
“This song.”
She leans into me, wraps her arm around my waist and holds me. Doesn’t push, doesn’t ask questions. Just listens to the music as we drift down the canal.
Pavarotti’s voice crescendos. Crests. I exhale sharply as the song ends.
“My mother’s favorite song.” I shut my eyes, struggle for composure. “She always wanted to come to Venice. Buy a mask and go to a masquerade.”
A long moment passes, filled by the gentle lap of water against the hull, the next song starting to play.
“The masquerade is for your mother.”
Of course Seraphina would make the connection. It matters that she does. I pull her tighter against me.
“Yes. She deserved a far better life than she got.” I hesitate. The words rise up again, the need to tell her. “So did my brother. My biological brother. He’s the reason I want to shut down New Field.”
“I didn’t know you had a brother.”
“David.” Even just saying his name out loud hurts.
Waves of guilt crash over me. “When Mom died, we were put into separate foster homes. I promised him I’d find him, but by the time John adopted me and I had the money and resources to look, he’d run away just like I had.
He popped up every now and then in the juvenile system for shoplifting or getting into a fight.
But he was always gone before I could get to him.
“Two years after I graduated college, I found out he’d stolen a car. He crossed state lines and hit a semitruck, injuring the driver. The driver survived with a broken wrist and a concussion, but David’s crime and his past juvenile record led to a federal sentence.”
“New Field,” Seraphina murmurs.
“Not at first. But after a few years the prison he was at went over capacity. David was one of the ones transferred.” I swallow back the fury, focus on getting the words out.
“I visited him at the first prison. He barely wanted to talk to me. But once he was sent to New Field, he vanished. My letters were returned, my calls went unanswered, and they wouldn’t let me in to see him.
“Six months later, I got a call that David was at a hospital. When I walked in, I couldn’t even tell it was him. He looked like a skeleton.”
Seraphina tightens her grip on me, offers me a physical lifeline I grab on to with both hands as I relive one of the worst moments of my life.
“He’d been caught in a prison riot. Broke his leg and was thrown into solitary for standing up to one of the guards who was beating prisoners. They left him in there for three days without food or water. Didn’t even set his leg.”
“My God, Aiden.”
The horror in Seraphina’s voice matches mine when I saw the extent of my little brother’s injuries.
“He made a mistake. A horrible mistake, and one he had to pay for. But not like that.”
“No,” she echoes softly. “Not like that.”
“They released him on parole earlier. Tried to cover up their mistakes. I paid for his medical bills and physical therapy.” I scoff. “Throwing money at problems.”
“Stop.” Seraphina pulls back slightly. “Do you have any idea how many people wouldn’t have even done that? Where is David now?”
“South Carolina. He works at a horse farm.”
“And I bet you offered him a penthouse in New York.”
I did, but I’m not about to admit to it. “He wanted to start over. He wanted a quiet life away from the city. I did what I could to make it possible.”
“Do you still see him?”
“About once a month. We’re both reserved. I think it’s hard for us to see each other more than that and be reminded of our pasts.”
Not to mention the overwhelming guilt I feel whenever I hear his voice.
“What about New Field?”
“I filed complaints, spoke with lawmakers, offered Hale triple what the prison cost. But the sadist likes what he does, and his ties are deep. He has friends in the highest levels of government. He threatened to feed David to the wolves if I went to the media, advertise his record so he’d never have a chance at a normal life while spinning it that I was trying to make money off a prison. ”
“That’s why you went to Randolph,” Seraphina says.
“Yes. Hale backed me into a corner.” I look down at her, anger sharpening my voice. “But he’s not going to win.”
She meets my gaze, an answering anger in her green eyes. “No, he won’t.”
I stare down at her, at this woman who’s now heard the worst of me. Who’s still sitting next to me and looking at me like she trusts me. Like she believes in me.
And God, I want everything she’s offering.
The gondola pulls into the dock outside the Aman Venice. I get out, then help Seraphina, picking up the voluminous folds of her gown so they don’t dip into the canal. After tipping the gondolier and the concierge on the dock, I lean down and swoop Seraphina into my arms.
“Aiden!” She laughs as she loops her arms around my neck. “What are you doing?”
“Carrying you to our room.”
I walk across the tiled entryway and up the stone stairs, passing underneath painted ceilings and grand chandeliers as I make my way to the elevator.
Our ride up is thankfully uninterrupted.
As soon as we get to our suite, I kick the door shut behind me, set her on her feet and press her against the door.
“You look incredible.”
Her eyes soften just before I kiss her. I growl as she kisses me back with a fervor I’ve never experienced before, her hands sliding into my hair.
I lift my head. “The dress.”
She blinks. “What about it?”
“Off.” I reach for the zipper. “It needs to come off now.”
Urgent need churns through me as I unzip the dress, push it from her shoulders and watch it pool into a heap of red and yellow at her feet. She stands there in tiny black panties and nothing else. A phoenix rising from the flames and ashes. So strong. So beautiful. So giving.
You don’t deserve her.
The thought whispers through me. But selfish bastard that I am, I ignore it.
“I need you.” I grab her hips, yank her against me. “Now.”
I slide my hands under her thighs, lift her up. She wraps her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck as I carry her from the living room to my room. I need her, need to feel her wet heat, need to claim her in my bed.
I lay her down gently before ripping off my own tuxedo.
I climb onto the bed, trailing kisses from her ankle up her leg to her thigh, stopping to drop a soft kiss on her core before I continue upward.
I kiss each of her breasts, and then I’m nestled between her thighs, her heat nearly burning my cock.
“Seraphina.”
She reaches between us, wraps her fingers around me and guides me inside. I nearly come right then as her body tightens around me. She moves with me, matching me stroke for stroke as pleasure burns in her eyes. Her fingers roam up and down my back, leaving trails of fire burning across my skin.
Her breathing quickens. The thrust of her hips becomes more erratic as her fingernails dig into my shoulders.
“Yes.” I lean down and kiss her. “Come for me, Seraphina,” I murmur against her mouth. “Give me everything.”
She comes apart in my arms. I drink in her cries, glorify in her body shuddering beneath mine. Pressure builds at the base of my spine as my own pleasure intensifies. I groan as I come, pouring myself into her. As I drift down from my climax, I ease myself onto the bed next to her.
I don’t know how long we lay there, bodies slicked with sweat. I finally open my eyes. And stare. She’s lying on her stomach, her eyes close and her hair a golden tumble around her face. She has a faint smile on her face, like she knows a happy secret she’s not quite ready to share.
Slowly, she opens her eyes. Eyes I’ve met countless times over the last three years. Yet I feel like I’ve just started seeing her, truly seeing her, these last few days.
“I’m going to start a bath.” I reach over and tuck a golden strand behind her ear. I can’t get enough of touching her hair. “Would you like to join me?”
“Mm-hmm.”
I smile and move into the bathroom. I start the water and add a rose-scented bubble mix before dimming the lights.
When I go back into the bedroom, Seraphina is almost half-asleep.
I gently lift her into my arms again. But this time it’s tenderness that fills my chest as she curls into me and sighs happily.
I step into the tub, ease us both in. Once the water’s turned off we lie there, her body cushioned between my thighs, her back to my chest.
“This is nice,” she murmurs.
It is. I’m flirting dangerously close to the edge of that cliff. But I can’t seem to stay away.
We lounge in the tub for almost half an hour, dozing off and on until the water cools. I carry her back to my bed and lay her down. She wakes up enough to glance around and frown.
“This is your room.”
I pull back the sheets on the other side and slide under the covers. “It is.”
“But…” Her voice trails off. “You like to sleep alone.”
“I do. But I’d like to sleep with you tonight if you’re okay with it.”
Her sleepy smile hits like a punch to the chest. “I’d like that very much.”
I slide my arm around her waist and pull her close. Her naked body curves into mine, fitting as if she were meant to be there. As my eyes drift shut, I have the fleeting thought that I could get used to falling asleep to the sight of her face next to mine.
I wake to a stray sunbeam lighting up the room. Seraphina is still in my arms, her face peaceful. I watch her for a moment, smiling as she lets out a quiet snore.
I’ve never spent the night with a woman, never woken up next to her. I didn’t want to invite too much intimacy.
But as I watch Seraphina, I’m glad I broke my rule for her. I’m not sure what to do about the emotions she’s stirring to life. Something I’ll have to sort through eventually. For now, though, I’m simply going to enjoy.
My phone rings. I throw back the covers and ease out of bed, grabbing my tuxedo pants off the floor and slipping into the living room so the ringing doesn’t wake Seraphina. I manage to pull my phone out of my pocket, anticipation building when I see the name on the screen.
“Good morning, Randolph.”
“Morning, Hawke. Did I wake you?”
I glance at my watch and grimace. Nearly eleven.
“I woke up a little bit ago.”
“Hell of a party last night.”
I smile. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
The hesitation on the other end of the line is my first clue that something’s wrong. My fingers tighten on the phone as cold slips into my chest.
“Everything all right?”
“Look, Hawke, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I can’t move forward with New Field.”
For a moment, there’s nothing but the thud of my own heart against my ribs.
“I see.”
“I want to keep my account with Hawke Financial. But that proposal isn’t a good fit with the campaign coming up.”
I start to argue, to reiterate all the reasons why now is the perfect time to move forward and capitalize on his stance on prison reform. But I can hear the conviction in his voice. He’s already made up his mind.
Should I tell him about David? Explain why this is so important?
No. There are plenty of stories in the files Seraphina and I compiled. Plenty of reasons why that place needs to be shut down. One more story isn’t going to change his mind. I’m not trotting out my brother’s pain and my failings just so Randolph can turn me down yet again.
“Thank you for letting me know.”
“You’re welcome.” He pauses. “I’m happy for you, Hawke. You and Seraphina.”
“Thank you. I’ll see you when we get back to New York.”
I hang up. Resist the urge to cross the room, throw open a window and chuck the phone into the canal.
There are other people. Others I can talk to, work through to bring Victor Hale to his knees and either destroy or restructure New Field.
But that will take time. More time, more money, more risks on people who might do what Randolph just did and pull away at the last minute. The happiness I’ve found the last few days vanishes, replaced by a cold ache. It’s an empty feeling but familiar. Empty is better than rage, than pain.
A soft creak sounds behind me. I turn to see Seraphina standing in the doorway, dressed in my tuxedo shirt.
“Aiden?”
“Randolph said no.”
She starts toward me, then stops. I see the indecision, the concern.
I want to reach out to her, to tell her its okay.
But I can’t. If I don’t keep myself calm, in control, the anger will take over.
So will the pain of knowing that, once again, I have failed my little brother, just like I did all those years ago.
“I’ll contact my plane, notify them there’s been a change of plans and we’re leaving his afternoon.” I walk around her and start toward the bedroom. “You’re welcome to stay if you want, make use of the hotel.”
“I’ll come with you.”
I hate that that makes me glad. That a part of me is already so attached to this woman that her presence on the plane makes a difference.
“Be ready by noon.”
I’m shutting down. Pushing her away. But failure plays on a loop inside my head. It was only a matter of time before our little getaway ended and reality came calling.
I don’t look at her as I walk into my bedroom and close the door behind me.