KNOT: A Wake Family Novel (45 page)

When I slipped it over my wrist and locked it, there was no room for improvement. She was right. It was perfect.

My manners fought my ego and won.

“Thank you so much, Nora.”

“Thank
you
. This is my favorite gift ever.” She hugged the box, still covered in cellophane. “I don’t need to open anymore tonight.”

I agreed. She’d already given me too much. It was all I could do to keep from arguing she take the watch back. Then again, I’d never part with it.

I’d die first.

I got up and cleared the presents from the bed, placing them on the couch on the other side of the room where I’d spent most of my day. She had the lingerie and the perfume laying side by side on the ivory sheet and she looked at them both adoringly.

“Put it on,” I requested.

Her brow lifted, she’d misunderstood.

“Not the lingerie. Not tonight. I want you to wear this.
Only
this. For me.” I tapped the box.

I saw the trepidation in her tight brow. I knew she wouldn’t want to, but I wasn’t too proud to attach stipulations to gifts. “You can only keep it if you promise to wear it.”

I leaned against the mattress waiting for a rebuttal. It didn’t come.

She stood, placed the lacy garter and corset set on a chair and then she took off her bra and panties, her eyes locked on me. That was a gift, too.

“You do it.” Handing the package over, she stood there totally bared to me. The watch was nice, but she was precious. Rare. One of a kind.

Standing to face her, I slipped my finger through the plastic at the bottom of the box, and then carefully—as careful as I could with a stunning, naked woman in front of me—opened it with as minimal damage as possible.

She held out her wrists like they were to be bound. I slipped the glass bottle out, gently putting the discarded box on the chair in the corner with her lingerie.

The top of the bottle had the same beautiful crystal cap, like the one she had at home, and I pulled it off. My free hand met her elbow and ran down her arm.

She shivered.

I sprayed one wrist with a less than full spray, it being the first one. She paired her wrists and rubbed them over each other. The scent filling both our lungs, but I knew the smell would improve the closer I got to her skin.

It was a scent I’d only smelled faintly on the near empty spare she had in Chicago. It was much more potent this time. Sweet. Floral. Warm.

She leaned forward and stretched her neck for me to apply the fragrance there as well. I obliged with a much more productive second pump. The mist covered her neckline and chest, much like I would.

I hadn’t planned to come here and see her thriving, but it had been such a mistake. Because now I knew.

She could manage this empire left to her. She could handle whatever she chose to set her mind on. How dumb I’d been to ever underestimate her.

But I had this.
Her
. I’d leave with only her memory.

My senses were full. The sight of Nora, exposed. The concoction of her mixed with the sweet potion I’d sprayed on her warm skin. The sound of her laugh, and the quake of her voice when it was heavy with emotion. The pride in her eyes when she’d walked in.

After capping the bottle and setting it aside, my hand reached behind her neck and pulled her to me, my mouth crashed against her willing lips.

It was a night I wouldn’t forget. If I had any control, I would strive for that. I’d savor every single second while I was with her.

Sometimes when we were together, it felt like a storm. Rocky and rough, destructive and powerful. It wasn’t like those times.

That night was something different. Surreal. I pleased and was pleased. Wet kisses planted remembrances over every inch of our bodies. Fingers and hands roamed freely, and the sounds we made were incoherent, except to us. To the two lovers in that room, they made perfect sense.

A moan. A pant. A rushed breath. A prayer.

I wanted to keep her. I wanted to claim her and make her mine and lock her away so that no one could ever take her from me. I wanted to war and protect her. I wanted to care and tend to her ever changing needs. I wanted these things to be part of my daily life.

Love was so unfair because withholding it felt like the only thing I could give her that was greater than myself.

She didn’t want my power.

She deserved her own, and I knew how wealthy that feeling made a person. I wanted it for myself.

It wasn’t a failure.
It was a draw.

“Oh, Reagan.”

I groaned hearing my name. The one I’d given her to use. The one I wanted to live up to.

After she came, and came again, I let myself join her.

I don’t remember the words I said, only that I meant them. Only that they poured from me in time to my climax.

Men don’t admit to broken hearts so I won’t confess how mine began breaking that moment. The moment I solidified my choice. I won’t admit that a whole new timer started ticking down, like a bomb that would detonate.

No, I’d keep that secret.

It was nearly dawn when she fell asleep. My mind raced in two directions. I was holding her, watching the first flicker of light dance across the snowy peaks outside the window.

Yet, there was a separate part of me preparing. Making arrangements and plans for how I would live without her.

I drifted in and out for a few hours before I finally felt the blanket of sleep cover me.

When I woke up, she was gone, and I reminded myself that I needed to fucking get used to it. My heart was now my enemy. I hated it.

I pulled my pants up and tied the drawstring, then followed my nose.

She was making coffee down the hall.

“Good morning,” she said. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail, but most of it didn’t reach, and it hung out in places. It was messy and sexy, and wasn’t that perfect for her? She wore one of the button-up shirts I’d brought and hung in her closet.

“That’s my shirt,” I taunted.

She lifted an oversized mug to her lips and quirked an eyebrow at me. There was another mug already out on the counter, and I poured myself a cup.

“I stole it,” she replied.

“You don’t look like you feel very guilty about your crime.”

“Oh, I don’t.” She hopped up on the counter next to me. There were only a few buttons mated with holes—the wrong ones I should add—and as she leaned forward, I made no attempt to hide the discovery of her naked breasts in view. “They smell like you. Besides, if I dirty them all up you’ll have nothing to wear, and I’ll get to look at you,” she listed. She was proud of her motives.

“If I would have known you wanted an old shirt for Christmas I would have shipped you my laundry.”

She grinned. “I got
everything
I wanted for Christmas.”

I moved between her legs and pressed my hands to the counter, flanking her.

It was easy to ignore the rotting inside me when she smiled.

I kissed her cheek, then her mouth. “I did, too. Merry Christmas, baby.”

Her free arm perched on my shoulder and she sat her coffee down on her leg so she wouldn’t drop it.

“Merry Christmas, bear.”

I gave her another quick kiss and pulled away. I needed to tread lightly and save my future sanity, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“So, I have an idea,” she declared from her roost. “Let’s go skiing today.”

That was a good plan. I could use the release since I didn’t have a gym here where I could run off my stress. I didn’t have my prescription to dull my anxiety either.

Skiing would keep my greedy hands off of her. For the time anyway.

She added when I didn’t answer, “I have gear you can wear. Skis. Everything. Have you ever been?”

I had, and loved the sport. “I’m a good skier.”

“Our slopes aren’t tricky, but they’re fast. We have a lift.”

We? Was she thinking we—like her and the property collectively, or her and me?

Don’t be a fool.

I changed the subject. “Let me make us breakfast first.” I was going to need it.

She ate my eggs, but I could tell she’d had better. Some things I wasn’t good at.

NORA—Thursday, December 25, 2008

H
e was a better skier than me. I should have known. He was good at everything.

The lift hadn’t been upgraded yet, but the old one had been serviced and was running smoothly. I’d used it many times, and although it was older, it hadn’t been used nearly enough for major wear.

It was our last ride. We rode it down the smaller hill to the valley, then back up the other side where it was a much longer run.

“Are your legs sore?” he asked. His arm protectively wrapped around my shoulders tightly as we rode, even though there was a belt holding us in place.

I was out of shape.

Maybe my figure didn’t show it, but I was far from being in any condition to keep up with him. Of course, he spent time in the gym nearly every day, I’d never known a regular person to exercise the way he did. He wasn’t an athlete, but you wouldn’t know by looking at him.

“Yeah, I’m glad this is our last run,” I admitted. I was sore enough that my pride didn’t care. It wasn’t really a competition anyway.

It had been a good day. We didn’t get a chance to talk a lot, but sometimes just being with another person was plenty. If he hadn’t shown up, I would have been by myself. I wouldn’t have skied.

For the first time in weeks, I thought about being with other people. Surely, it would be for all new reasons after this was over. It would take two to distract me from my thoughts of him. Maybe three. Maybe the damn whole country.

The day after Christmas, we soaked in the hot tub almost all day, then slept like the dead.

We spent days being lazy, cooking appetizers and watching movies. He’d bought me the most recent Cosmopolitan, and I shared my silly ritual with him. He didn’t mind because I wore my La Perla gift as we drank a generous amount of cocktails and we flipped cover to cover.

Loris came by to check on us, but we were fine. There was another snow blowing in, and he wanted to make sure we didn’t need anything before New Year’s.

Admittedly, I’d lost track of the days. It only reminded me that we only had a few more left.

It felt sour in my stomach every time I thought about what I was going to say, but I knew he wanted more. A more that I didn’t have, or know how to get. And even if I did, I couldn’t say how long it would last before I’d wear him out and have to move on anyway.

It was better to cut him loose now. Well, after New Year’s, but I still wasn’t sure how.

We had sex in every wing. I showed him our gym, and he chastised me for having a secret. We fucked there, too.

The last day of the year was probably the best one. We barely wore clothes. We ate straight from the refrigerator when we needed to. We drank wine all day.

And we ended up in a heap of blankets in the ballroom counting down the seconds to New Year on his brand new watch.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.