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Chapter 19

19

E LIZABETH

David: I have a surprise for you.

Crumpled in a chair at the kitchen table, I read his message twice before typing my reply.

Me: I hope it’s good.

David: It’s always good, baby.

Smiling, I move my fingers.

Me: Why aren’t we on the phone then? Talking about it?

A few moments pass.

David: Because it’s a surprise. And I’d give myself away.

Hmm.

Me: What do you want from me?

My eyes go to the window as the snow keeps falling like feather sheets blown by the wind.

I’m not sure I want to go out.

The idea of getting all dressed up and spending the night in a restaurant or a club doesn’t sit well with me right now.

It’s been a long day, and honestly, seeing him now stresses me out because I could give myself away, too.

I don’t want to be weird about things and offer him hints here and there.

I went too far with digging up information and learning stuff about his past that, in the end, might not do either of us any good.

How could I explain the letters Sylvia gave me?

I know how I feel about these things when I want to forget about my past.

We all have the right to bury these things in our memory and forget about them.

My phone pings.

David: Dress comfortably and pack a few things for the weekend. I’ll send my driver to pick you up.

I stare at his message, frozen.

Another one arrives shortly.

David: I’ve got good food and wine and pies.

I start to type.

Me: Okay.

I don’t send the message, though.

It sounds like I’m not excited about it, and it truly gives me away.

I might have mixed feelings, but there’s no need to telegraph it to him.

I need to clear my head first.

I erase the message and type another one.

Me: How much time do I have?

A few seconds pass, and the headlights of a car sweep my street outside.

David: I think you know the answer.

A shred of optimism tears into my numbness.

Me: Is that you?

He answers right away.

David: No. I have to light a fire at my cabin.

My eyebrows shoot up.

Me: So it’s not your hotel suite.

I pull out of my seat when his message arrives.

David: Absolutely not. Besides, I don’t sleep with my employees.

My smile broadens as I go to the bedroom and head into the closet, typing all the way there.

Me: Allegedly.

He sends me a laughing emoji and a text.

David: Hurry, baby.

I toss my phone on the bed, shower, and change my clothes in record time before picking up a few things, shoving it into my pocket, and leaving my place.

The driver is waiting for me outside.

He greets me, holds the door for me, and reclaims his seat before steering the car away.

Music plays on the radio while I slump back, press my head against the window, and look outside.

The afternoon events slowly pull away from me while I take in the falling snow.

Once snow arrives, this place is magic. I’ve never seen something more beautiful. Roads and trees decked out in silver dust.

We quickly leave the town behind and head to the mountains. The road is scenic, and despite how much I love the area, I rarely get the chance to see it.

There’s always something else to do.

A few hotels flicker with lights in the distance, but we follow the road to a private area with log homes, cabins, and a large lake.

Once we enter the woods, it’s like stepping into a fairy tale.

Large branches sift snow in the wind while we travel below them.

Here and there, lights peek through the trees, and snippets of life flash inside the window frames.

A few more minutes pass, and the homes become more scarce and scattered.

Before long, a cabin looms in the distance, and I can only imagine this is his.

Who knew I’d spent the night in a place like this?

The car comes to a stop next to David’s ride. A truck is also parked in front of the cabin.

We barely pull in and the door to the cabin opens. David climbs the few stairs. He wears jeans, boots, and a sweater. He looks nothing like the man I know.

A genuine smile colors his gaze when he opens the door for me.

I can’t be anything but sincere when I pull out, read his eyes for a second, and wind my arms around his neck.

Everything that happened this afternoon belongs to the past now. Whisked away. Hidden. Forgotten.

I don’t need to make an effort to pretend I hadn’t learned about his past before I came here.

There is no space in my head for that story.

His lips are warm. His cheeks are cold. We kiss before I have the chance to get my bag. The driver stays put, wise, and solemn.

“How was your trip?” David asks, yanking my bag from the back seat.

“It was good,” I say.

He seems exhilarated and nervous at the same time. Happy to see me yet tense like a rookie.

It’s like he has dug up some information on me and not the other way around.

He thanks the driver, and we both watch the vehicle pull away.

His hand locks mine before his eyes come to mine, a dome of silence falling over us.

It’s like we’re stuck in a cathedral.

The silence is beautiful, and the snow whispers like the silk brushing a patch of skin.

“It’s only us?” I murmur.

“Only us. I thought we’d celebrate,” he says, pivoting and walking me to the entrance.

“What are we celebrating?” I ask when he pushes the door open, and a cozy interior fills my sight. “Oh. It’s pretty,” I exclaim, unable to contain my enthusiasm.

My eyes move over the wooden floors, bare walls, comfortable sofas, fireplace, and pillows while his stare burns my cheekbone.

“Wait to see the bedroom,” he says, setting my bag on a chair in the open kitchen and helping me to take my jacket off.

He drapes it over the back of the chair while I look at him, stranded, like a particle suspended in an ocean of surprise.

“What are we celebrating again?” I murmur, enthralled with his eyes.

Flashing a dazzling smile, he pivots to the kitchen.

He removes his sweater on his way over, and I stare at the slim-fit T-shirt stretching across his muscular torso and chiseled arms that almost look photoshopped.

“You getting a job,” he says, amused.

He nearly killed that man last night. Keith. And we all forgot about Keith. And then he offered me a job that was not a job, only a pretext to have me with him––although we can’t blame my presence here on that job either.

We forgot about that as well.

We will face a lot of people next week, but right now, we look like two people in love.

I don’t know what makes me say this. The warmth curled up in my chest. The glint in his eyes. This beautiful cabin that is even more fascinating than his house on Long Island.

The suits that are gone––we forgot about them too.

The fact that he is James Sexton’s business partner and Ed Preston, who is my cousin’s husband.

For fuck’s sake, I’m related to Thea’s twins. We forgot about that, too.

Not to mention that we forgot about Anna.

I did, for sure. And he probably did, too.

He hands me a glass of ruby wine that catches the light trickling down from the ceiling and looks like blood.

Things happen so fast for us, the memories created at such a high speed and just as quickly stacked away, that a sense of dizzying surreality hovers over me.

We clink our glasses, but I set mine down. The tension in my body is too dense and hard to ignore.

“What are we doing, David?” I ask quietly with a shred of concern in my voice.

His eyes become pools of dark water.

I read surprise and genuine worry. He briefly struggles.

“What do you mean?”

His voice is forged in apprehension I never thought he had in him. If there was one man who feared nothing, it would be him.

Everything he does oozes confidence.

He was so sure I’d like this place––and I do––that he just sent the car to pick me up.

This is David Moore. The billionaire. The man with an untouchable heart.

But this––the man I have in front of me––is not the man Rain had portrayed in her book.

This is not the man who exchanged cash for bedroom activities, showered her with gifts, and treated her like a queen.

This man is different.

He treats me like a princess and gives me gifts and his attention.

But he also gives me something else.

A shot at learning who he is. Touching his humanity.

And for whatever reason, he is so real tonight,vulnerable and powerful at the same time.

He is someone else.

Someone no one has seen before.

He reads my eyes before handing me my wine again.

“Let’s talk,” he says curtly, collecting his drink and showing me to the couch.

The fire crackles and the light is tender like a hug.

I sit next to him, holding my wine.

“What bothers you?” he asks, more in control and stern this time.

I shift my gaze to him, my emotions slowly swirling.

Like him, I’m nervous.

Unlike him, I can’t hide it.

“I am a little afraid,” I say.

His coldness dissolves into a soft smile.

He studies me before tossing his head back quietly, chuckling and rubbing his hand over his eyes.

“Do you think you’re the only one who is afraid?” he asks, and I notice relief in his voice.

He finally focuses on his wine, takes a few sips, and sets his glass down. I do the same, mirroring his moves before shifting my eyes to him.

“What scares you?” he asks, and my chest tightens.

“Things getting out of control.”

Luminous tenderness sparkles in his eyes.

“That’s it?”

I softly nod.

“Yeah…”

He takes my hands and brings them to his chest before lifting them to his lips.

They’re both wrapped in his touch.

“You know what scares me?” he asks, his eyelids sliding down, his gaze tilted to my hands for a second.

“No.”

He shifts his eyes up.

“Not liking the real me…” he confesses, and my heart stumbles in my chest.

He reacts at the astonishment on my face with a slow nod.

“Yes…” he says as if ashamed by his admission.

“How could I not like you?”

He lowers his hands and mine and places them on his lap.

“What do you know about me, Elizabeth?”

More than you think. I wish I could say.

I say nothing, though.

“You don’t know who I am.”

“You told me a lot about yourself. And I’ve seen a thing or two.”

“Yeah… And everything was true. But that is only a part of me.”

A few moments pass.

“You know…” he says, leaning back into the couch. “Meeting you in secret was way more convenient than I thought. It wasn’t only about not going public with you, although that could’ve screwed things up fast. I have no doubt about it. Something else was at play, and I didn’t even know what it was at the time. I liked that we played a game. It helped me get to know you. It also helped me introduce some parts of myself to you. Reading Rain’s book also helped hide who I really was. Talking about convenience. That was way more than I had hoped for. So I liked that game. It bought me time and helped me figure things out for myself.”

My hands soften in his grip.

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