His companion?
Of course the man travels with security. He’s a fucking superstar. In fact I’m surprised he didn’t bring the full entourage.
A shiver of simultaneous relief and stupidity rips through me. Relief I don’t have to watch him parade around my family home with another woman hanging off his arm. Stupidity for thinking he’d book a separate suite for another woman in the first place. And extreme stupidity for caring either way.
His deep sultry voice lowers to barely more than a whisper. ‘When, Sasha?’
‘Does it matter?’ Crossing my arms across my chest, my chin tilts in a defiant stance.
‘It matters to me.’ His tone is almost pleading.
Huffing like Victoria might, I manage to utter, ‘It’ll be ten years next month,’ before turning on my heels and fleeing to the Ryan-free safety of my own private quarters before he can completely unravel me.
The continued attraction between us is inconvenient to say the least, but the man abandoned me. He took my heart, my soul and my ability to trust anyone.
He broke me for anyone that might come after him. No way will I ever fall under the spell of Ryan Cooper ever again. I barely survived the first time.
CHAPTERSIX
RYAN
In the enormous, elaborately decorated atrium, I’m left reeling from both Sasha’s shocking revelation and the intoxicating sensation of being in her proximity after all this time.
The castle has barely changed, but she certainly has. She’s matured into one sophisticated beauty. Exquisite jade eyes are still piercing, but where they were once bright and inviting, they’re now pensively wary.
The urge to grab her waist was barely controllable. My fingers ached to stroke the porcelain complexion of her face, naturally dewy and fresh, a stark contrast to the women I’ve met in LA.
Sasha might be slimmer, but her self-assured, stoic presence makes her bigger than ever, smashing down the carefully constructed shield within my chest, once again stealing my heart from within. So much for being emotionally frigid. Apparently, I was merely on the wrong side of the Atlantic.
Fuck.
I’m under no mad illusion that she’ll ever feel the same. I left her with no explanation, abandoning all our plans. I barely had time to pen a hastily scrawled note, no wonder it didn’t cut it.
And now I discover her parents died, the same month I disappeared. It must have been the worst time of her life and she had to face it alone. There’s no rebuttal. How could there be?
The night my father piled us into a black taxi and ushered us through the airport to his sister’s remote ranch in Texas, every single cell of my body shrivelled and died.
The iniquitous investment he’d championed had gone spectacularly up in smoke, along with the cash he’d acquired from several corrupt sources. He had to flee the country or risk going down for the rest of his life.
Nausea rips through me as I glimpse a hint of the horror that Sasha must have gone through. Losing them and me in the same month. Especially after what we’d done. What she’d given me.
A million questions spark and burn inside of me. Questions I have no right to ask, and less right to be given answers to.
Pierce’s steel-toe capped boots clunk against the mosaic floor, snapping me back to the present and I finally turn away from the recently vacated staircase to check in.
Louise, the girl on reception, stutters and stammers her way through her welcome speech.
At the risk of sounding like a total douche, I tend to have that effect on women. I’m not vain enough to believe I’m irresistible or anything, it’s just the shock of seeing someone you’re used to watching on a big screen in the flesh. It was the same for me and Jayden when we first moved to LA.
A handful of babbling women pass through the grand hallway, slowing to almost a standstill, inquisitive eyes darting between Pierce and me.
Noting the increasing interest, Pierce assumes command. ‘Upstairs. To wherever the penthouse is. I’ll deal with the formalities in a minute.’
Louise slips from her position behind the desk and gesticulates in the direction of the stairs. Good. The penthouse must be near Sasha. The draw to slip away and seek her out is growing with every passing second.
I’ve been back less than three minutes and she has me utterly enamoured with her again already. Though god knows what I’m hoping for. From the way she briskly bolted, she made it quite clear she doesn’t want to be anywhere near me. I can’t blame her. The fairest thing I can do is leave her the fuck alone.
In a matter of minutes I have more inspiration for an album than I’ve had in years. The loss of her burns acutely, as if it was yesterday. The loss of our relationship, of everything that could have been. My soul’s been ripped open and is finally fit to bleed straight out onto a notepad.
