I Promise (4 page)

Smiling, Christian sipped her coffee. Last night had definitely been a night to remember.

“Bobby!” Alex squealed. “I can't believe it's you.”

Christian raced to the phone, thankful that the one person she wanted to talk to had called.

Alex finished exchanging pleasantries, then handed the phone over.

“Hello, Bobby? Thank God, you called. I miss you so much.”

 

Sunlight sliced through the venetian blinds and laid thin, white strips across the sleigh bed. The peaceful sound of birds chirping softly in the distance added to the bedroom's tranquil setting. However, nothing soothed the pain that churned inside Malcolm's heart.

He'd made it through the night, made it through the agony. He dreaded the thought of facing his family and friends, of informing them about the broken engagement, especially his mother.

Sheila stirred in his arms.

Her delicate curls covered his chest. Their floral fragrance brought a smile to his lips. Sheila had a body and a sexuality that had been rumored to be the cause of Lucifer's fall from grace. She pressed her lush body against him and lifted her head to smile invitingly.

“You never cease to amaze me.” Her soft, husky voice made him hard with need. “I heard you were getting engaged.”

Malcolm hid his discomfort. “You know better than to listen to rumors.”

“How could I not? I can't remember the last time that you came to see me. You've spent so much of your time chasing after Miss Goody Two-shoes that you haven't had time for any of your old friends.”

“All that matters is that I'm here now.”

“So, Chris—”

He silenced her with a kiss. The last thing he wanted to talk about was his ex-fiancée. The last thing he wanted to do was relive the pain.

He deepened the kiss. It should've been Christian lying softly in his arms. It should've been her body opening up to him. He slid his hand down Sheila's voluptuous figure, but in his mind, he'd envisioned it was another woman's.

Sheila leaned back, giving him better access to her neck, where he burned a trail of kisses. A low moan of excitement urged him on, nearly driving him to the point of madness.

He rolled over to take the top position. His hard body pinned her against the firm mattress. His skillful hands glided up to cup her firm breasts and another moan tumbled from her lips.

Malcolm heard the echo of his own sigh as she whispered his name against his ear. She curled her arms over his shoulders and prepared herself to accept him.

He entered her swiftly, roughly, as if the devil himself had taken hold of him. He didn't make love to Sheila. The name he recited aloud was Christian's.

M
alcolm arrived home dressed in last night's tuxedo. He received the house's entombed silence as a welcome reprieve, however, an unexpected one. Where was everybody? Then again, maybe he shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. He wasn't up to answering questions. His thoughts drifted to his mother, the one person who would be excited over the broken engagement.

He climbed the staircase, slowly and methodically. Already past noon and still he lacked the energy to face the day. Maybe he needed to pack a few things and take a long drive to regroup, clear his mind before deciding his next move.

Twenty-four hours ago, he'd had his whole life figured out. He'd been prepared to announce that he wanted to come aboard the family business. Of course, he would be the second banana to Jordan, but only temporarily. He'd planned to help take Opulence to a new level, to a new generation of consumers.

Reaching the top stair, Malcolm turned toward his bedroom just as Jordan stepped out into the hallway.

Both men stopped in their tracks.

Jordan's guilt attacked his conscience as the memory of last night's fiasco hung in the air. All morning he had betrayed his brother with dreams involving Christian McKinley.

Jordan cleared his throat. “I want to talk to you.”

Mimicking his brother's stance, Malcolm asked coolly, “And what could you
possibly
want to say to me, bro?” Sarcasm edged each word.

Jordan gazed into his brother's bloodshot eyes and his guilt increased. “I'm sorry. There's no excuse for what happened last night.” He held out his hand. “Can you forgive me?”

“Actually, I don't know why I'm so surprised.”

The verbal attack found its mark. Jordan lowered his hand. “You know I would never deliberately hurt you.”

“But you did hurt me just the same. Deliberate or not.” Malcolm turned his back.

Words failed Jordan for the first time in his life.

“As it turns out, she dumped me.” Malcolm paused with his hand on the doorknob. “So, she's all yours.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Or maybe you knew that already?”

“I'm sorry.”

Disgust flashed across Malcolm's features. “I just bet you are.” He shook his head, entered his bedroom, and then slammed the door behind him.

Regret settled on Jordan's shoulders, as he stood motionless in the empty hallway. Why? Why didn't he tell Christian immediately who he was? And why did he ask for that kiss?

Who knew how long Malcolm would be angry with him? His brother carried a grudge like their father: forever. What kind of excuse could he offer for his behavior last night? He'd never seen his brother so deflated, so hurt.

He went to Malcolm's door, but hesitated at knocking. He had so much to say and yet, didn't know where to begin.

Despite being twins, they were as different as night and day. Jordan had always been considered the left brain, business-conscious one who knew exactly what he wanted in life. After all, when you fail to plan, then you plan to fail, right?

Malcolm was the right brain, the creative joker, and the charmer. He had a natural disdain with responsibility that had always rubbed against Jordan's grain. In high school, Malcolm had been voted most popular, particularly with the ladies. He could always be counted on to show everyone a good time. Jordan wasn't fooled by Malcolm's elaborate schemes to underscore his own intelligence and he didn't understand why Malcolm hid behind this jovial mask.

Jordan moved from his brother's door. Maybe he should just give him some time alone, time to sort things through. Heavyhearted, Jordan descended the staircase and wished he'd never met Christian McKinley.

The doorbell rang as he reached the front hall.

He groaned but forced an artificial smile in place as he went to answer the door. His face dropped. “Christian.”

Positioning her purse strap over her shoulder, she smiled politely. “Hello…Jordan, right?”

He nodded. Suddenly, last night's emotions sprang to the surface. She was simply beautiful. The afternoon sunlight radiated behind her. He caught the way it kissed and enriched her dark skin, and highlighted her hair with reddish streaks. Her dark, sultry eyes locked with his and the world ceased to exist.

“May I come in?”

He remembered his manners and widened the door. “Yes. Please do.”

As she stepped into the foyer, he caught the soft scent of jasmine. The floral fragrance suited her soft, yet exotic, aura.

“Is Malcolm in?”

Reality crashed in, and once again, he was ashamed of where his romantic thoughts were leading him. “Yes.” He closed the door behind her. “I'll let him know you're here.”

She placed a hand against his arm.

He stopped.

“How is he?” She searched his eyes for an honest answer.

His heartstrings pulled at the sadness in her eyes and the gentleness of her touch. “He's hurt.”

When she removed her hand, he instantly missed its presence.

Nervously, she twirled her purse strap. “Maybe I shouldn't have come,” she murmured.

Was she having second thoughts? Was she in love with his brother? Jealousy curled inside Jordan, taking him by surprise. The emotion made no sense, he realized, but he couldn't deny the feeling.

She turned back toward the door. “Please don't tell him I came by,” she said, then rushed outside.

Jordan raced behind her. “Wait!”

Christian stopped. When she faced him, tears shimmered in her eyes. “The last thing I wanted to do was to hurt him,” she whispered.

He moved forward, then stopped when she stepped back with a firm shake of her head. “I appreciate what you're trying to do, but it's not necessary.”

A quiet strength radiated from her and for the first time, he realized that there was more to her than what met the eye.

“May I ask you a personal question?” Jordan slid his hands into his pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet.

Christian ignored the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach and pretended that his penetrating gaze didn't affect her. “Sure.”

“Why
did
you come?”

It seemed like a simple question, but she couldn't explain why she struggled for an answer.

Their eyes met.

He moved forward.

She couldn't move. She couldn't think. Her body reacted to him against her will. Desire twisted inside her as her eyes lowered to his lips. Her mind transported her back to last night. She remembered the taste of him and a strange hunger stirred within her.

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. “Why did you come?” he repeated.

Christian hesitated and closed her eyes. “To say…goodbye.”

“Goodbye?” His hand enclosed hers.

Her breath caught in her throat. She forced herself to ease her hand from his grasp, but continued to hold his questioning gaze. “I'm going home tomorrow.”

Jordan crossed his arms. “I see. And where is home?”

“Amarillo.”

“Texas?”

Crossing her arms to match his stance, she smiled. “Is there something wrong with Texas?”

“N-no. It's just—” He laughed.

“It's just what?”

“It's nothing personal.” He grinned. “I just wouldn't have thought you were the cowgirl type.”

Christian shook her head. “You're kidding me, right?”

“Nawww,” he answered in his best Texas drawl and looped his thumbs in the front of his pants.

“Actually, I
was
raised on a ranch.” She laughed at his pose.

“You have a beautiful laugh.” He hadn't meant to say that.

The compliment caught her off guard. Her cheeks flushed a deep burgundy. “Th-thank you.” She smiled awkwardly.

Silence cloaked the space between them before she heard the soft rustling of the estate's trees. The afternoon's breeze picked up speed, but she felt no chill. Jordan's gaze warmed her. “I really should be going,” she said.

“Are you sure you don't want to talk to Malcolm? I can run up and get him for you.” He started toward the door. “No!”

He turned back. “I mean—it's probably better this way.” Jordan nodded. “I understand.” He smiled to lighten the mood. “I'm glad I got the chance to meet you before you left.” He extended his hand.

She slid her hand into his firm grip, and another wave of shivers coursed down her spine. Her skin tingled beneath his touch. Impulsively, she leaned up and kissed his cheek. “It was nice meeting you, too.” She stepped back and shared another smile before leaving him at the front door.

 

On the top floor of the house, Malcolm watched Christian as she drove away from the house. Anger boiled in his veins as he turned away from the window. It was the second time he'd caught Christian and Jordan together. The second time he'd been betrayed.

 

Sheila Barrett pushed back her long blond hair and peered into the brightly lit vanity mirror. She smiled at the perfect recreation of the Barbie doll image that she worked so hard to maintain.

“Don't you look like the cat's meow,” Alex joked, joining her at the mirror.

Sheila turned her powder-blue eyes toward Alex. “Maybe I did.”

“That good, huh?”

“Better.”

Alex dropped her bags on the counter and took her place in the makeup chair. She removed the plastic clip from her hair and let it cascade around her shoulders. “Well, I'm all ears.”

Two makeup artists entered the room and immediately started working on the women for the photo shoot.

“I don't think I should tell you. I don't want to put you in the middle of anything with your friends.” Sheila replied with a fake pout.

In the year and a half the models had worked together promoting Opulence, Alex knew Sheila too well, and she had every reason to be on guard around the woman.

“In the middle of what?”

“You know—Christian and Malcolm.”

Alex's hackles rose. “What about them?”

“Oh, nothing.” Sheila continued to smile to herself. “I mean—I heard that maybe she and Malcolm were having some…problems.”

“Chris and Malcolm were never an item.” Alex stated in a firm voice.

“Oh.” Sheila shrugged her shoulders and dropped the subject.

Curiosity ate at Alex and after a few lapsed minutes, she couldn't help but ask, “So what was your big news?”

“Oh, nothing. Forget it.”

Alex grew uneasy.

Sheila shrugged. “I was just surprised when Malcolm came over to see me last night. That's all.”

“That's impossible.” Alex laughed with relief. “Malcolm threw a party at his home last night. There's no way he was at your place.”

“Ah.” Sheila's eyes gleamed. “I wondered why he was wearing a tuxedo. Of course, he didn't keep it on for long.” She leaned over and elbowed Alex's arm. “Whatever the story was between Miss Goody Two-shoes and Malcolm, I'm grateful that it's over.”

Alex felt sick.

Sheila rubbed her lips together for an even coat of lipstick, then puckered into the mirror. “I'm starting to believe that age-old saying.” She hopped out of her chair. “You know—once you go back…” She wiggled her brows to emphasize her meaning, then left the dressing room.

Jaws clenched, Alex sat rigid in her chair while waiting until her makeup artist finished. Once alone, she stared at her reflection.

Minutes later, a knock at the door jarred her from her reverie. “Five minutes, Ms. Cheney.”

She stood and moved methodically to the clothes rack by the door. Her emotions twisted into a knot and settled in the pit of her stomach as imaginary pictures of Malcolm and Sheila lying in bed together flooded her mind.

Alex slid into a slinky red dress, then checked her appearance once again in the mirror. Her gaze roamed over every detail with a critical and approving gaze.

Sadness enveloped her. Why couldn't he notice her?

Another knock sounded at the door. “Two minutes, Ms. Cheney.”

Her hand clenched at her side and in a burst of fury, Alex grabbed the crystal vase perched on the vanity counter and hurled it across the room to shatter against the wall, then cupped her face in her hands and cried.

 

Noah stood at the wet bar and poured himself a stiff drink. A merciless migraine throbbed at his temples as he stared at the legal documents for Opulence's latest acquisition. Overwhelmed by the day's events, he wondered why he even bothered. His disappointment over his sons' desertion robbed his every thought.

The private study's door burst open and, for a split second, he feared that Rosa was about to catch him drinking again.