Chapter Three #3
Vic lifted a hand to her face and brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek, his touch as light as the brush of a feather.
‘But you are beautiful.’ His voice had a gravel and honey combination that sent a shiver racing over her flesh.
He was standing almost toe to toe with her, and it made every cell of her body tighten with awareness.
And a tingle of anxiety. She wasn’t used to being the focus of someone’s attention.
She wasn’t used to intimacy of any kind.
It was a battle inside her, a war between two wants—one to get away and the other to come close.
But she hardly knew Vic. He was a playboy, a man about town, and she was a homespun, boring, and bland and shy woman who had zero experience.
Even though a part of her loved hearing Vic’s compliments, she didn’t for a moment believe them.
How could she? They were just words. And she had heard them before on the night of The Incident.
She was told by her boyfriend a whole heap of compliments and she had basked in them like someone who had never experienced the warmth of sunshine on their body.
But there was the kicker—once he saw her naked body, he began comparing it to her mother’s and the truth came out.
He only wanted to sleep with her to crow about it to his mates.
She licked her dry lips and tried to disguise a swallow. ‘Your jet lag must be far worse than I thought if you think I’m beautiful.’ She injected a note of self-deprecating humour in her tone.
He gently tipped up her chin and her heart did a jerky somersault.
She had always secretly dreamed of someone doing that to her—touching her so softly, so tenderly, their gaze focussed on her as if she was the most captivating person in the world.
But how could she be sure Vic was really captivated by her?
She was nothing like his casual lovers. They were flamingos like her mother. She was a barnyard fowl.
‘Everything about you is beautiful, not just your looks. You have a sweet and kind nature too.’
‘But you hardly know me. How can you tell what my nature is like?’
Vic was still holding her chin between his thumb and index finger.
The warmth of his touch surprised her, delighted her, excited her.
But a flicker of fear still lurked in the back of her mind.
She wanted to be wanted for her . Heat seeped from his skin into hers, stirring her flesh into a deep longing for more of his touch.
She stared at his mouth, the sculptured contours mesmerising to her.
She wanted him to kiss her. She needed him to kiss her.
She wanted to taste him, to feel those sensual lips moving against her own.
But she had not been kissed in years. She had forgotten the moves, the cues, and she didn’t have the confidence to ask outright.
And what if he kissed her and it was a disaster?
What if she pulled away out of fear and anxiety?
‘I don’t have to know someone for long to know what sort of person they are.’ His hand released her chin, but his index finger moved in a slow stroke across her cheek.
‘Making a quick character assessment must be part of the skill set of a playboy,’ she said, trying to keep things light.
A frown appeared on his forehead, his mouth tightened a fraction and his hand fell away from her face. ‘I’m not trying to get it on with you, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
Her eyes opened wide. ‘I—I wasn’t thinking any such thing. Mostly because no one like you could ever be interested in someone like me.’
There was a pulsing silence. All she could hear was the sound of her breathing and the soft humming of the French door fridge.
Vic’s eyes moved back and forth between each of hers, searchingly, searingly. ‘Why do you say that?’
‘I’m too ordinary. Plain, boring, conservative.’ She swallowed and added in a lower, barely audible tone, ‘Inexperienced.’
A flicker of shock passed through his gaze and his frown deepened. ‘How inexperienced?’ His voice was so low and deep it sounded like the bass chord of a pipe organ.
She turned to pick up her cup, mainly for something to do with her hands and her mouth before they got any further out of control.
There was only a sip left in the cup and it was lukewarm, but she drank it anyway.
Yuck, and it had tea leaves in it. Maybe she should have read them instead of swallowed them.
Vic’s hand came down on her right shoulder, gently turning her to face him again. ‘Are you telling me you’re a virgin?’ His expression was so incredulous it made her feel even more of a gauche fool.
Her mouth twisted. ‘Isn’t it funny that one hundred years ago, I would’ve been considered the ideal, the norm. Now I am a pariah. A misfit.’
Vic’s hand released her shoulder, but he didn’t step back from her. He stood looking down at her with a grave expression on his face. ‘Is your inexperience by choice or circumstance?’
She let out a breath in a slow stream and shifted her gaze from the penetrating heat of his. ‘A bit of both.’
There was another beat of silence.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Vic’s voice had a raspy edge that made her flesh tingle.
She turned away again, this time to clear away the cups. ‘I think it’s time I got some sleep. I’ve already told you more than I’ve told anyone in years.’
‘Yeah, well, same goes.’ There was a wry note to his tone.
She stopped stacking the cups and glanced at him. ‘About your stepfather, you mean?’
He gave a grim nod and rubbed at the back of his neck with one of his hands. ‘I think it’s being back here. It brings up a lot of things I’d rather forget.’
‘Which is why you want to redevelop the place.’
‘Yes.’
‘But don’t you have good memories too? Of living here before your father died?’
‘The good memories have been tainted by the years that followed my father’s death. This is not a family home, not any more. It’ll do far better as a hotel.’
‘What does Isabella think of your decision to turn it into a hotel?’
A flicker of tension moved across his face—a tightening of his jaw, a flattening of his mouth, a stubborn light hardening his eyes. ‘It belongs to me, not Isabella. It’s my decision and my decision alone what to do with it.’
She frowned. ‘But why then did Isabella and Marcus ask us to mind Katerina here until they get back? Was that their decision or yours?’ She still hadn’t had a chance to talk to Marcus or Isabella herself due to travelling and time differences.
‘They were planning to come here for a summer holiday after their friend’s wedding. They’ve holidayed here a few times even before Katerina was born. Isabella wanted Katerina to enjoy her childhood home one last time. She’s far more sentimental about the place than I am.’
‘And yet, you’re still going to redevelop it?’
The intractable set to his features made her realise that once he had decided something, it was final.
There would be no backing down, no matter what.
‘It was left to me by my father. It was the one thing my stepfather couldn’t take away from me.
I’m going to make it into the most successful hotel in my company. ’
She was in no doubt of that, but was his decision the right one?
Vic held her gaze for a long beat. ‘You don’t approve?’
‘It’s none of my business to approve or disapprove.’
His mouth quirked. ‘Don’t be too mad at me, tesore . This is purely a business decision. I never allow my emotions too much involvement.’
His casually delivered Italian endearment sent a wave of heat cascading down her spine.
She needed to build up some immunity to him and fast. She couldn’t allow herself to melt at his feet in a pool of longing.
‘I—I think I’ll go to bed if you don’t mind.
I want to be in a reasonable state to look after Katerina when she wakes. ’
‘I’ll walk you up.’
‘No, please,’ She held up both of her hands like twin stop signs. ‘I can find my way.’
‘As you wish.’
Her exit would have been a whole lot more dignified if she hadn’t bumped into one of the kitchen stools as she went.
She swore under her breath and righted the stool, glancing back at Vic, but he wasn’t even looking her way.
He was staring out the windows at the golden rays of the sun coming up over the horizon with a brooding frown on his forehead.
Vic stared at the view without really seeing it.
His mind was reeling with the shock of Addie’s revelation.
A virgin? Not that there was anything wrong with that if it was a personal choice, but he suspected there was more to her situation than she had let on.
He had lost his so long ago he could barely remember the circumstances other than it was rushed and awkward, especially as his partner had far more experience than he.
But what was holding Addie back from exploring her sexuality?
Was it her shyness? Her introverted personality?
Or had growing up with an extroverted and undoubtedly sexually active and stunning mother made her feel inadequate?
Vic had read enough about Solange Featherstone in the gossip pages over the years to realise Addie was nothing like her.
Marcus hadn’t told him much about his childhood, but Vic had picked up enough to realise it hadn’t been an easy ride for either Marcus or Addie.
But Marcus was more outgoing and had lived life in the fast lane until he met Isabella.
Vic had unintentionally been the matchmaker and while he was happy for them that they were building a life together, married life wasn’t for him.
While divorce had not brought about the destruction of Vic’s parents’ marriage, death had come out of the blue and destroyed the stability and happiness that had defined his childhood until the age of seven.
The finality of it, the cruel hammer blow of grief that had consumed him haunted him to this day.
There were no guarantees in life and love.
Love didn’t always last, but death was an inescapable certainty.
There was no avoiding it. It would find you eventually, either in early years or later ones.
He figured the longer you waited for it to claim those you loved, the more damage it did to you.
He had only had seven years with his father and yet he still missed him and always would.
There were so many milestones his father had missed, so many things he never got to experience because fate had swept in and taken him away.
But Vic hadn’t just lost his father, but his mother too.
His stepfather had taken her away, changed her focus so it was trained on her new husband and not on her grieving son, essentially leaving Vic to cope alone.
Vic didn’t want to love someone only to lose them.
Loving someone was asking for immeasurable, incurable pain and he wanted no part of it.
Which was why he had no business showing any interest in Addie Featherstone.
She was the sort of young woman who deserved to be valued and loved and appreciated.
He was the last person who should be thinking about her, much less feeling flickers, and spine-tingling pulses of desire.
He wasn’t into breaking hearts, and she was exactly the sort of woman who would get hurt if he took things further.
In a strange sort of way, he felt like he would corrupt her by taking away her innocence.
He considered her as forbidden and it had to stay that way.
It had to otherwise… He blinked hard and shook his head, trying to reprogram his thoughts, but somehow his body and mind were at war.
His mind said no but his body said, why not?