“A bond of love.” He finished softly, his beautiful gaze utterly bleak.
A small laugh escaped Layla’s lips; a wretched sob. Her head was shaking from side to side, her cold fury incredulous. She couldn’t even speak. She couldn’t even rage at him for how deeply he’d manipulated her. Layla went to a cold, brutal place as she gripped the cuff upon her left wrist and pulled the silver pin. The cuff dropped into her palm as she took it off, re-setting the pin to close the two halves. Looking up, she met Adrian’s beautiful aquamarine eyes with the coldest look she’d ever given anyone.
And hurled the cuff at him – hard.
Adrian’s hands came up fast; he barely managed to catch it. As Layla stared him down, frigid wrath boiling from her, she finally spoke. “Keep your Hotel, and your money, and your protection, andthat.Keep it all, Adrian Rhakvir – and stay the fuck out of my life.”
Without waiting for a response, Layla swept up her high-heels from the floor and strode to the doors barefoot. Seizing her beaded clutch from the side-table, she walked out of Adrian’s apartment into the main hall. Silence filled the hall, and when the doors boomed shut, Layla knew Adrian wasn’t coming after her. She stood between the red-marble dragon statues with their cruel snarls and knew that he wasn’t going to stop her from walking out on him; he wasn’t going to come for her and wrap his arms around her and beg apology for what he’d done.
Because Adrian believed he’d done right. He believed he’d done what was best all these years, even though it brought Layla’s entire life crashing down now.
It was that detail that broke her. Tears stung her eyes, filling them. She could barely see as she made it to the fourth-floor staircase and stepped quickly down in her bare feet. By the time she arrived at the first floor, walking briskly down the opulent midnight hall with her high-heels and beaded clutch still in hand, she was trying to stop her tears from falling.
She couldn’t.
By the time she arrived at the main Concierge desk, they were spilling hard and fast. The only person still at the desk in the deep midnight hour, Dusk’s head came up with alarm as she approached. He was out around the side of the desk fast as she sped up, sobs hitching her chest. As she fell into his arms, shuddering with rage and heartbreak – feeling his sweet, strong presence wrap around her with the most soothing vibrations – Layla broke. She sobbed on the lapels of Dusk’s immaculate pinstriped suit, burying her face in his neck.
“Shh, easy…” Dusk murmured at her ear as he cradled her close. He poured his soothing vibrations through her like a cat’s purr and Layla sobbed harder. “Layla, my god, what happened?”
“I have to go home, Dusk!” Layla gasped into his neck through her wretched sobs. “I have to go home to Seattle. Tonight. I can’t—!”
“Shh…” he soothed, stroking her back with smooth hands. “It’s alright. I’ll arrange it. I’ll arrange everything. Just leave it to me.”
CHAPTER 28 – SEATTLE
Dusk had arranged everything. Making six calls from the Concierge desk in five minutes, he’d put Layla in a black sedan right from the Hotel and sent her directly to the Paris airport, putting her on one of the Hotel’s private jets that waited on the tarmac. Falling asleep with exhaustion in the private bedroom in the back of the jet, which had been opulent but not Adrian’s style, she’d arrived in Seattle and been escorted to another black car awaiting her arrival. As she slid in to the leather seats, exhausted to her bones and so heartbroken that she shivered with cold in the wet Seattle air, the driver presented Layla with a letter.
A letter from Dusk, which she read through quickly as she hauled a warm chenille blanket from the car around her bare shoulders.
Layla. By now you’ve reached Seattle and my man Carlos will take you home. He is Hotel Guard and one of Rikyava’s best; you can trust him. Everything has been secured here; your things are packed and ready to leave Paris at your word. Even though you were unable to complete your yearly contract at the Hotel, our branch has conferred and you will be granted the regular quarterly deposits for the year, since your coming here was based on false pretenses – of which we are only now becoming aware.
We, of course, wish you would change your mind. Your arrival was a blessing to us at Concierge Services, and many guests are stunned and concerned at your sudden departure. I know a certain cat-lady who misses you dearly, and a barking mad Fumarole who is insisting he get your phone number so he can promise his support for whatever is going on. I have assured him that you are simply taking a hiatus; he is skeptical and causing a ruckus.
Know that we have issued a pause on your employment rather than a termination. Should you choose to return, in a month or in a year, we would gladly welcome you back with your full starting salary and open arms. Please consider it. Of course, if you wish for this arrangement to be final, Carlos will return in a week’s time to accept your final letter of resignation, and all your things will be put on a plane and shipped promptly home to you.
On a personal note, I cannot apologize more for what Adrian has done. He came clean to me with the full truth about your talisman after you left, and it horrified me as much as it must have you when you heard about it. To bind someone into a relationship without their consent via magic – such a thing is far more than egregious. Had I known he was seeking the Hamsa Bind for your talisman, and that this was actually the artifact he placed upon your wrist… I would have torn him apart from the belly up. I still might.
Take your time, Layla. We miss you, and wish you would come back home to us.
Sincerely, Dusk
His letter made Layla cry all over again. Wiping away tears as they pulled up to the house on Capitol Hill, Layla could barely see as the Latino driver rounded the car and opened her door. Still clad in her royal plum dress, Layla had nothing but the high heels on her feet and the beaded clutch in her hand as she stepped out into the low grey light of the dreary Seattle afternoon. Closing the door behind her, Carlos glanced at her with a searching gaze.
“Any word for the Head Concierge, Ms. Price?” He murmured in a vaguely Hispanic accent, a kindly presence issuing from him.
Layla gave him a small smile, still wiping away tears that wouldn’t quit, her mascara for her date with Adrian long gone. “I think I’m done at the Hotel, Carlos. Please inform Dusk to ship my things home as soon as he can.”
“Of course, Ms. Price.” The man didn’t reach out to her, though his smile was kind. “On behalf of the Hotel, I’d like to offer our sincerest apologies. Rikyava asked for me to pass along her rage. She says she’d gut Adrian Rhakvir for you – if you want.”
It made Layla laugh. Even through her heartbreak at everything that had happened, she smiled, shaking her head. “Please tell Rikyava that’s not necessary. And tell her… I’m glad she was my friend.”
“Of course.”
The man’s smile was gentle as he stepped back, allowing Layla a clear path to the house. It was late afternoon and the sky was heavy and dark above, a slow drizzle sifting down through the autumn air. Lights were already on inside, the stout craftsman home, looking solid and normal and cozy. As Layla stared at the porch, the front door suddenly opened. Dressed in jeans and an emerald t-shirt, Luke came out – his green eyes wide as they darted from Layla in her rumpled silk gown to the car and the man waiting beside it.
And then Luke was sweeping down the porch, gathering Layla into his arms as she broke down yet again, holding her close with his good lemon-balm and soap scent and letting her cry.
* * *
