13. Chapter Twelve Savannah
Chapter Twelve: Savannah
Instead of comforting me with reassuring words about how he’s not planning on going anywhere, Laurent clears his throat. “Really?” he murmurs evasively.
The way his entire body stiffens confirms what I’ve suspected all along—Rhys Laurent is nothing but a player. A good-time guy who has no desire to commit or have a relationship. This shouldn’t come as a surprise to me, but it still hurts.
God, we’re so different. I’ve known since day one that we come from two completely separate worlds.
Yes, they’ve aligned for a brief time, and it’s been wonderful.
But I have no business here in this fancy hotel suite or attending masquerade parties at homes that belong to billionaires.
Rhys Laurent is a worldly and dashing thief without a care, while I’m just…
me. Nobody special. Just a girl who works hard and wants to run a nice restaurant where people can enjoy a good home-cooked meal.
Shit. Tears burn the back of my eyes, but it’s my own damn fault. I knew I was getting in over my head the moment I opened the door at Charlie’s Place and Laurent stumbled in with the greenest eyes I’d ever seen and a bloody knife wound.
I fell for the wrong man once before, and I’m not letting it happen again.
Before a tear accidentally escapes and trickles down my cheek, I pull away and slide off his lap.
I’m deciding how to gracefully make my exit, when he stands up and stretches.
“I’m going to take a shower.” He hesitates, as though hoping I’ll join him, but that can’t happen.
Not if I’m going to walk away. No, it’s time to go cold turkey, and that means no more kissing, no more touching and, definitely, no more showering together.
“I’m just going to finish breakfast,” I murmur, reaching for another strawberry even though I couldn’t be less hungry. He nods, leans down to place a kiss on my head, and strides away. Once he disappears into the bedroom, I toss the strawberry back on the tray and sigh.
I should run straight out the door while he’s in the shower, but I can’t.
There’s a very annoying part of me that doesn’t want to leave yet.
But once he’s finished and comes back in here, we need to get down to business and have a serious talk about his investment plans.
I can’t just hang out here in Denver at the Ritz for an indeterminate amount of time.
I need to get back to Coronado and rebuild what I lost.
In the meantime, my attention lands on the old copy of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. After all the trouble we went through, there’s no guarantee he’ll ever figure out the clues lying within its pages. Whatever they may be.
Me, though? I’ve read this book a thousand times and can recite certain passages word for word.
If something has been changed, I think I’d notice.
Picking up the book, more so to seek out the comfort within its slightly worn pages than curiosity, I open the cover.
The artwork is lovely and it’s in pretty good condition considering it’s over one hundred sixty years old.
Carefully turning to page one, I begin reading and, like always, I fall right into the adventure, getting lost down the rabbit hole just like Alice.
By the time Laurent returns—because I refuse to call him Rhys—Alice just drank from a little bottle and grew as big as a house. Several strange things have jumped out at me while reading—things that have been changed. Clues?
I’m so engrossed in the story, I don’t look at him until the cushion beside me sinks and his hand covers my thigh.
Glancing over, I see his thick, wet hair is slicked back and he’s wearing his robe, staring at me with a look that can only be called scorching.
He’s far too tempting a sight, and I force my eyes back down to the book.
You are not sleeping with him again. You are not putting your mouth on him. You are not—
His hand slides beneath my robe. Touching me where I’m throbbing and already wet. Stroking. The book slides out of my hand, forgotten.
“Savvy?” His velvet voice reminds me of hot chocolate, rich and utterly decadent. And we all know indulging in too much chocolate is not good for you. But it’s sitting right there in front of me. Steaming. Sweet. Calling my name. Playing with my—
“Oh!” A needy gasp tears from my throat and my hips begin rolling all on their own. It’s like my traitorous body disconnects from my mind, telling it to shut up, and pure instinct takes over.
Okay, maybe one more time, and then I go home. I mean, we already fucked countless times last night and this morning, so it’s really not a big deal if we do it one more time. Right?
Because at this moment, Rhys is leaving me no choice but to surrender.
Fuckit. One more time. And then that’s it.
Three hours later, I stretch on the bed like a lazy housecat.
One more time turned into three, but I’m not going to berate myself over the slip.
After all, this is truly it. I’ll be leaving and returning to Coronado and our paths will probably never cross again.
I’m not sure why that makes me so incredibly sad.
He’s a man of the world. You could never make him happy or keep his attention. Let him go.
Neither of us has brought up my departure today, and I’m not too sure why he hasn’t shuffled me out the door yet. To my surprise, he waltzes back in after getting rid of yet another condom, and sends me a sexy, dimpled grin. Yep, I count two indents.
“I’m hungry,” he announces. “Let’s order some food.”
I know we can’t keep hiding out here in the hotel’s suite, avoiding the real world for much longer, so I tell myself one more meal, and I’m going to broach the topic of getting a flight back to San Diego while we eat.
Back in the living room, wearing our comfy robes again, he calls in, ordering way too much food, while I curl my legs beneath me on the couch and pick up the book again.
Instead of reading where I left off, I casually flip ahead, scanning the familiar text, skimming the beloved story.
Searching for anything else that stands out or seems suspect.
I’m about to go back and pick up where I left off, when something weird snags my attention. In chapter seven, the Mad Hatter recites a silly parody of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” And what I’m reading isn’t right.
“Cat.” I touch the word on the page, getting excited.
“What did you say, my little bookworm?” Laurent drops down beside me.
“Twinkle, twinkle, little cat!” I exclaim, and he looks at me like I’m as mad as the poor Hatter. “It should be bat! Twinkle, twinkle little bat!”
“Did you bump your head?” he teases, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.
“The poem is wrong!” I flip the book around, pointing at the text. “Twinkle, twinkle, little Cat! Now I know where you’re at! Up above two continents you fly, like a blue heart in the sky.”
“Blue heart? It actually says that?” He leans down, inspecting the strange poem.
“These aren’t the regular words. It’s been changed. Another poem is different, too, but I can’t make heads or tails of it. They have to be clues though.”
“But what does it mean? A location maybe? Savvy, can you tell me exactly what’s different from the original poem?”
Nodding, I point out the differences. “It should be a bat, not a cat. And instead of wondering where you’re at, it specifically says ‘Now I know where you’re at.
’ The two continents thing? That’s different.
” I tap a finger against my lip. “And, of course, blue heart isn’t normally in there. It’s supposed to be tea tray.”
“You’re a genius.” He plants a kiss on my lips.
“No, just well read.” I send him a saucy smile.
“Do you have any idea how sexy that is?” His voice drops, thigh pressing into mine.
“Focus, monsieur,” I scold. Reaching for my phone, I start a search and type in some of the changed words and phrases.
“Right.” He gives his head a shake and follows my lead, doing the same thing.
While I focus on “Cat,” he keeps talking about the phrase, “Up above two continents you fly.”
“It has to be a location. A place where two continents merge,” he muses, skimming his phone’s screen. “It says here, Iceland is the premier destination where two continents merge and pull apart.”
“How does that relate to a cat?”
He gives me a quizzical smile. “I was hoping you’d figure out that part of the riddle.”
With a chuckle, I keep searching. “The letter C is capitalized. That must be significant. Maybe the city or country starts with the letters C-a-t.” Out of the blue, an idea strikes me. “Two continents. They don’t have to physically merge. Maybe it’s more like… I don’t know, separate cultures.”
“Maybe,” he agrees.
The only place I know where two continents meet and divide a culture is Turkey.
I remember reading a book and it went into detail about how it’s famous for being the only city in the world to span two continents.
I did a little research of my own—well, because I’m a nerd like that—and ended up watching a bunch of videos on social media.
Talk about going down a rabbit hole. There was an especially good-looking influencer who lived in Istanbul and always shared pictures and stories about the city. Including all the cats who live there.
I gasp. “I know where it is!” Laurent just blinks, looking at me like I’m speaking Russian. “It’s in Istanbul, Turkey! It has to be there.”
“What makes you think that?”
“It’s where the East meets the West. The only city in the world that spans two continents. And Istanbul…” I quickly do a search, pulling up the city, “also known as Catstanbul, is home to an estimated 200,000 free-roaming cats.” I give him a triumphant smile.
His green eyes go wide. “Putain! It makes perfect sense.”
“It kind of does,” I agree, and he pulls me into his arms, kissing me hard. Before it can turn more heated, I come up for air, placing a hand on his chest and looking deep into his vibrant eyes. “Being a bookworm pays off,” I joke.
“Come with me,” he invites, voice silky.
“What?” My eyes must go comically wide.
“I want you to come with me to Turkey,” he enunciates more slowly. “Let’s find the sapphire together.”
The temptation is nearly overwhelming, and I’m on the verge of caving when he adds, “There must be more clues in the book. We’ll figure it out together. We make a great team, non?”
Oh. My heart sinks and disappointment floods through me. He just wants me to go so he can use my knowledge of the book.
Trying to move out of his arms, I shake my head. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” His hold on me tightens, but I manage to pull free and stand up.
“Because…”
I search for the right words, the numerous reasons why, and fall short.
Because the stupid truth is I want to go to Turkey with him and continue this crazy adventure.
But that would be suicide for my poor heart.
I just freaking know it. I’m already falling for the dashing man before me, and if I don’t bail now, he will soon enough.
Then I’ll be left with nothing but the pieces of my broken heart. Again.
No. It’s better to walk away now with my head held high while I still can.
“I’m not like you, Laurent. I don’t have endless money in the bank, and I can’t just flit from one heist to the next. I want different things.”
“Like what?” His intense stare holds me hostage, and I can’t look away.
“For one, I want to rebuild Charlie’s Place.”
“And I’m going to help you do that.”
“Are you, though? Really?”
His eyes narrow. “Yes. I already told you that. It was a part of our original deal. You don’t believe me?”
“I don’t know,” I say, choosing to be as honest as possible.
“Men have made me promises before and then broken them. What makes you any different? Right now, you’re talking about going to Turkey.
Gallivanting off on some grand adventure to find a hidden gem.
But I just want to go home and hang out with my sister and my niece.
To be a good aunt and take Sienna to Disneyland.
I want to sit down on my patio and read my book with a glass of wine.
Maybe a Kir Royale.” My lips lift in a sad smile.
God knows, Brighton has me hooked on the sweet drink.
“I’ve been wanting to get a puppy. A little fluffy rescue who I can walk to the beach.
” I heave out a hard, truthful sigh. “I don’t want to run around the world chasing after shiny objects, and I don’t need a sapphire as big as my fist. I’m simple. And you’re…not.”
When he doesn’t respond, I know I’m right. I could never make such a worldly and sophisticated man like Laurent happy long-term. I’m a homebody, and simply not enough to satisfy his lust for adventure.
“If that’s what you want,” he finally murmurs.
I don’t miss the flash of disappointment on his face, but then he musters up a charming smile.
It doesn’t feel entirely genuine and his dimples remain hidden.
“I only want you to be happy, chérie.” In true Laurent fashion, he lifts my hand to his lips and brushes a kiss across my knuckles.
Our eyes lock, and I’m on the verge of throwing myself against his chest, when he lets my hand go and pushes up off the couch.
“I’ll have a private jet take you back to San Diego.”
“That’s not really necessary—”
“Give me your account number, and I’ll wire three million over to get you started on rebuilding your dream. When you need more, let me know.”
Stunned, my mouth drops open. I snap it shut with an audible click. That’s far more money than I was expecting. Suddenly, he’s all business, and this feels like a seedy transaction. But what can I do? The time to go our separate ways is here.
“So, this is it?” I can’t help but ask, sadness piercing my soul.
“Unless you want to board the jet bound for Turkey.”
I clasp my hands together, looking down at them.
It’s time to leave Wonderland and wake up.
It’s been a lovely dream, but… “I think I’ve had enough adventure.
” I dare to look up at him, trying to memorize the exact shade of his green eyes, the cut of his sharp cheekbones, the indent of his dimples.
“I’m not cut out for it like Harper or Alice. I’m just me—a boring ol’ homebody.”
“There’s nothing boring about you.” He places his fingers under my chin, lifting it.
“You’re an amazing woman, sexy and so damn smart.
Spending time with you has been a privilege and an honor, ma chérie.
I’ll never forget it.” His lips brush over mine.
Soft. A goodbye kiss. “Time to go,” he whispers.
Yes, time to go. As sad as it makes me, my adventure with Rhys Laurent is officially over.