I sank deeper into the water, resting my head against the cool porcelain edge of the tub. I thought of the flush in Aranare’s cheeks when he looked at me, the way he sometimes mumbled or glanced away. A tenderness my broken heart craved.
As I moved the sponge lower, I pictured the protective look in his amber eyes when he’d seen my bruises. I ran the soaked loofah over the place I kept meticulously hairless for Parker, and then lower still, allowing it to offer a hint of pressure, wondering if I made Aranare nervous. I let out a slow breath as I pushed deeper.
A sharp bang jolted me from my fantasy, and I quickly put the sponge on the edge of the bath.
“There you are.” Parker was standing in the doorway, watching me. My heart thundered so hard my chest felt like it might break under the force of its fists. He wasn’t supposed to be back yet.
Instinctively, I crossed my arms over my bare breasts, the tops of them rising just above the water.
“Hey, don’t do that.” He rushed to my side, kneeling on the wet tiles as he clasped my chin in his hand and studied the damage he’d caused.
I took in his bright blue eyes, sandy hair, cleft chin, and the dimples that made their way into his cheeks when he looked at me like that. I still loved him for a moment. But no, it wasn’t love; it was need. I was like a bird whose wings had been broken by this man and believed only he could fix them.
“I’m going to stay at Morgana’s for a while.” I pulled my face away.
“She doesn’t know anything about us, baby. People will tell you not to be with me, but that’s just because they’re jealous of what we have.” Parker jerked my face back to his. That look was there again, the same one he’d worn when he hit me. The same one he always had when he hurt me.
I flinched. Noticing, he sighed and stood up, leaning over me as I covered my breasts again. He bent down, kissing the side of my neck and tangling his fingers in the strands of hair coming loose from my claw clip.
“I said, don’t do that.” He removed my hands from my breasts and gently caressed one of my nipples. “You know I love you, don’t you?”
I didn’t reply, and he moved his hand lower so that it slipped under the water and across my hairless area.
“Don’t you?” he asked again as his fingers brushed the space between my legs and he gently kissed my neck.
He rarely touched me like this. So tenderly. If he touched me at all, it was usually rough and quick, and then he would excuse himself for work or ask if I could make him dinner. This was different.
“Aye, I do love you,” I whispered, and in that moment, I meant it.
He kissed my neck again, his fingers working the space between my legs. “Well then, if you loved me, you wouldn’t leave. Especially not onmy birthday, when I have bought you a new dress.” He continued stroking me, and it felt so good. It was everything I had always wanted from him.
I leaned my head back into him, and he reached around me, holding my breast with one hand while the other moved between my legs.
“I am sorry I hurt you. It will never happen again,” he breathed into my hair as he stroked faster.
“You p-promise?” I whimpered as my eyes rolled back, and a gasp escaped me.
“I promise.” He removed his fingers from inside me, wiping them on the hand towel, his dimples in full effect as a grin split his face. “I’ve left your dress on the bed. The lads and I are going to have a few drinks at the Port House. I will meet you on the docks at 3 p.m.”
He winked at me as he closed the bathroom door.
I climbed out of the water and pulled the towel around me. My cheeks were rosy with pleasure, but a sickening guilt shrouded my joy.
I pushed it aside.He loves me. This will never happen again. He promised.
My guilt disintegrated when I unzipped the garment bag on the bed and saw the black strapless designer dress Parker had left for me. I pulled it on and surveyed myself in the walk-in closet mirror. It fit like a glove, accentuating my curves, and my full breasts heaved with every breath due to the tightness of the bustier.
I powdered over the bruises, swallowing the knots coiling in my stomach at the sight of them. After painting my lips red, I pinned my hair into an elegant bun. Then, I begrudgingly pulled on stockings and a long black leather coat, because it would be freezing on the yacht.
I was about to shut the bedroom door and walk away when my gaze fell on the duffel on the floor. Guilt twisted as I remembered my promise to Morgana. Parker had lied—he’d hurt me. I paused. But he’d said he wassorry, said he’d never do it again, and deep down, some part of me still wanted to believe that.
And what about Aranare? He cared, which was comforting, but he didn’t know me. Parker and I had a history. I owed him one more chance. It was his birthday, after all.
I released a shaky breath, and I shut the door on my half-packed bags.
Parker and his colleagues were clustered on the dock as I approached, a wave of awkwardness tightening in my chest.
Although Parker usually invited me to these things, I always felt like I wasn’t entirely welcome. Plus, now there were bruises on my cheeks and lips. I had tried to hide them, but they were still visible beneath the makeup. At least these short winter days meant the sun would set soon.
