The Highest Price to Pay (13 page)

Her stomach tightened. “I have.”

“Was that not enough?”

“No. It’s not even close to being enough.”

“It doesn’t matter, Ella.”

“Yes, Blaise, it matters.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked, rolling his powerful shoulders as if trying to ease off stress. As if she was causing him stress.

“Because if it wasn’t a big deal you would tell me about her.”

He opened the top drawer to the armoire and took out a pair of black boxer briefs. He put them on, his body backlit by the sun filtering through the window.

“She was engaged to Luc. About three weeks before the wedding, she and I were alone at their penthouse. I seduced her. She called off the wedding. We had one year together, and then she left me.”

Ella blinked, drawing her knees up to her chest. “I thought…I thought you broke up with her.”

“No,” he said, clipped.

“But you said every word written about you was true.”

“More or less. The important parts are true. And I may as well have ended things. I drove her away. I wasn’t very much fun to be around, since I looked at her and saw the betrayal of my brother.”

“Why did you…why?”

“Why?” he repeated. “Because I loved her, you know. At least that was my excuse. Love conquers all, yes? Even an engagement ring.”

“You loved her?” A sharp tug of jealousy pulled at Ella. He had loved Marie enough to do anything to have her. She’d assumed, all this time, that he’d seduced her, maybe to get revenge on the brother who’d been raised in luxury while he’d been in Africa with his mother.

But love…she hadn’t considered that. Her pirate, with all those walls around his heart, had been open with someone else. Had given his heart to someone else. Believing that he had been callous in his seduction of Marie had almost been easier.

“No. I did not love her. I believed it was love, and what a convenient excuse it makes,
non?
An excuse to be selfish, an excuse to have big, screaming fights, because love is so passionate and the heart wants what it wants. The heart is a wicked thing, Ella.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Because you have not seen it. Have not seen how far it can lead you from everything you believed you were. I prefer to use my mind now. That, I can trust.” He looked out the window. “Do you know why I have this view? Because of her. She begged for a view of the Eiffel Tower, such status, and how wonderful for when she threw parties. One of the many things I did to prove my love for her, an easy way to prove it, because all I had to do was write a check. Tell me, Ella, is that love?”

“No.”

“I thought not.”

Ella’s stomach was tight. Jealousy, sadness, anger, all rolled through her. She got out of the bed, not caring about her state of undress. Not even caring about her scars.

When she’d told Blaise about her family, she’d felt like a bond had been forged between them. She’d thought learning about his past would make it even stronger. But now she felt as if he’d just moved further away from him. As if the tenuous bond between them was fraying.

“I have to go to work,” she said, stiffly. “I’ll just… go home and use the shower there. I need new clothes anyway.”

Blaise shrugged, tugging on a pair of dark blue jeans. “Have you heard back from Statham’s?”

Ella shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Let me know?”

Ella nodded, her heart feeling like it might be breaking in her chest. “Yeah. I’ll call you.”

“H
I,” ELLA
said, stepping into Blaise’s office. The view from there was just as spectacular as the view from his apartment. The thought made her stomach clench tight. She hadn’t spoken to Blaise in twenty-four hours. Not since she’d left his penthouse after his revelation about Marie. And that was what the view reminded her of, the penthouse he’d bought for the woman he’d loved.

“What’s your news, Ella?” he asked, his gaze barely flickering away from his computer screen.

“I just got a slot in a really big fashion show coming up next week,” Ella said.

“Great,” Blaise said, though he didn’t sound shocked. “How did that come about.”

“There was a cancellation, and the organizers of the event called me. It’s going to cost a bit to throw together so last minute, but I can show the line that Statham’s is looking at, my collection for Fall of next year.”

“You have models?”

“I have most of them. I suppose we could trawl your black book if I need any more.”

That got his attention, a wry smile curving his lips. “If you need it, it’s in the vault at my bank.”

“I’m sure it contains State secrets,” she said, smiling back in spite of herself.

“Possible incriminating evidence. Though I’m not sure much more could be done to damage my reputation.”

Not likely. His reputation was well and truly damaged, and he seemed to revel in that. Seemed to wear it like a comfortable coat. She couldn’t figure out why. And she wanted to, so badly. She wanted to know his heart, the heart that he saw as being so wicked. She wanted to know
him.

“Probably not,” she said, her throat tight. “You didn’t…did you arrange for this?”

“No, Ella. I didn’t arrange for Statham’s to contact you, either.”

A little bubble of satisfaction expanded in her chest. She’d appreciated Blaise’s help so much along the way, but to know she’d done it on her own was huge. Because someday, she would be managing without Blaise entirely, both professionally and personally. She had to know she could do this alone. And the good thing was, now, she was sure that she could.

She didn’t want to, but she could.

It was funny that not so long ago she’d been dreaming of the day she could pay him off as quickly as possible and get him out of her life. Now she didn’t want to lose him. It would be funny if she didn’t know it would hurt so bad when he walked out of her life. And he would. Because if he didn’t love her, what would hold him to her? His sexual fascination with her would fade. It had to.

Although, she doubted the fascination she had for him would ever fade. Even now her body ached for him. Almost as much as her heart.

“I just wanted to tell you,” she said. And she wanted to hug him. And kiss him. And tell him that she loved him.

“I’m proud of you, Ella.”

Her heart stalled. It was the first time she could remember someone saying that to her, and it couldn’t have meant more coming from anyone else.

“Thank you. I’d better go make some phone calls.”

Blaise stood from his desk and crossed to her, putting his arms around her waist. He dipped his head and kissed her, his lips hot on hers, familiar and foreign at the same time.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he said.

She nodded. “Okay.” It might be emotional suicide, but she was willing to take the chance.

Because some things were worth taking a chance on. Blaise was one of them.

The next week passed in a haze. Work filled up her day and Blaise took up each and every night, the passion between them only growing stronger each time they were together.

Ella’s feelings for him growing stronger.

The night of the fashion show was chaotic, the backstage a blur of half-dressed models and screaming stage managers. Ella loved it. She was in her element. And tonight her confidence wasn’t a show.

The woman she pretended to be had finally melded with the woman she was. She wasn’t quite as outrageous as her persona had been, but she wasn’t crippled by insecurity, either. She was happy now. Her makeup wasn’t a mask, her clothes weren’t armor. She was just Ella. And she was happy with that. And she was enough.

The voice in her head was Blaise now, telling her that she was beautiful, that she had talent. She wasn’t bogged down by doubt anymore. She wasn’t living in the tragedy that had happened eleven years earlier.

Ella watched on the monitor backstage as her line was paraded out in front of the audience. Listened to the applause. And, when it was time for Ella to walk out with her model wearing the finale piece, and she grabbed the other woman’s hand and did her turn on the catwalk, confidence surged through her.

When she reached the backstage it was still in complete chaos. Another designer’s work was going on in ten minutes and models and stylists were scrambling here and there in an attempt to get everything done on time.

Ella turned and saw Sarah Chadwick, the head buyer for Statham’s, making her way through the throng of people. “Ella, that was fabulous.”

“Thank you. I’m so glad I was able to participate.”

“I’m glad you did, too. I think you make the kind of clothing that I want to see in Statham’s. It’s wearable, but it has an edge that I love.”

“You want my line in your stores?” Ella knew she sounded a little bit breathless and shocked, but she was.

“I do. And I’m sure I won’t be the only one. But if you can get us some exclusive pieces, I’m sure I can sweeten up the contract.”

“I can…I can do that.”

“I’ll be sending over the paperwork later in the week and I…” Sarah checked the monitor behind them. “I’d better get back out there and watch the rest of this show. I’ll be in touch.”

Ella just stood there, letting the activity move around her. Statham’s had been such a huge goal for her. To have achieved it was almost surreal. And the first person she wanted to share the news with was Blaise. He was the one who’d helped her get to this point, he was the one who’d really made it possible.

And he was the most important person in her life.

She turned and saw him, standing apart from the crowd of people. He was dressed in the suit from her line that she’d fitted to him, and he was holding a pink rose. The crowd faded away and she could picture him standing by a lake in Malawi, rose in hand. The night he’d traced her scars.

She walked over to him, her heart pounding in her chest. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Well done,” he said, handing her the rose. She touched it lightly, the texture of the velvet petals weaving sensual memories around her.

“I got the contract with Statham’s. I just spoke to the head buyer.”

He nodded slightly. “I knew you would.”

“Only because you’re too arrogant to admit otherwise.”

He shrugged. “Or I have great confidence in you.”

“I’ll choose to believe that.”

“When can you leave?” he asked, sensual intent threaded through his rich voice.

“I can leave now,” she said. Because everything had been wonderful, and she’d just experienced a career high, and all she wanted to do was celebrate it with the man she loved.

“It’s beautiful, Blaise.” Blaise watched Ella’s face as she surveyed the apartment. Candles were resting on every flat surface in the bedroom, except for the bed, casting a warm glow on everything the light touched.

“You don’t mind candles?” He wondered if the fire might bother her.

She shook her head. “They’re gorgeous. As long as we blow them out when we’re done.”

“Of course.”

No, they wouldn’t bother his Ella. She didn’t hold on to her fear.

“Thank you. This is special. Tonight was special.”

It had been. Watching Ella’s clothes on the catwalk, seeing her come out and join the models, waving and smiling, taking ownership of her work, had made him feel like his chest was expanding.

And now, seeing her like this, bathed in the dim light, he felt as though he might explode with wanting her. With his desire to see her come to the peak of pleasure at his hands, but more than that, the desire to make her happy. To make her feel as special as she was.

“Come here, Ella.”

Her blue eyes glittered with mischief in the flickering candlelight. “You come here, Mr. Chevalier.”

And he did, because he was powerless to refuse her.

His blood ran hot and fast through his body, a fire raging out of control. He looked at Ella’s body, skimmed his fingertips down the scar on her neck. That was the damage left by fire.

He tried to turn on his practiced seducer persona. He was a pro at it. He knew how to reduce a woman to a mass of quivering need while keeping his own desires in check, not taking his pleasure until the very last moment, after she had reached the peak several times.

But there was too much urgency in him, too much need. His body throbbed with it, his brain closed off to everything but the feel of her silken skin beneath his fingertips, everything but the ache in his hardened erection. Everything but the driving need to be in her. To make her his.

His woman. His Ella.

Ella did the seducing, her hands, her lips, her tongue. His muscles shook with the effort of keeping himself from falling over the edge.

She was beautiful like this. Wild. Abandoned. Confident. Allowing her body to be bathed in firelight, unashamed, unafraid.

“Let me have you, Blaise,” she whispered as he laid her back on the bed. “All of you.”

The need in her voice, the desperation, pushed him past the point of return. If Ella hadn’t placed the condom in his hand, he would have forgotten. Never, in all his life, had he forgotten about protection. He rolled it on with unsteady hands and thrust into her body, teeth clenched tight as pleasure poured over him like warm oil.

His mind was blank. Desire clouding everything, blocking out his usual reserve, his slow, practiced rhythm. All he could do was chase his satisfaction.

Ella arched against him, her tight nipples brushing against his chest. She gripped his butt, her fingers digging into his skin, soft, smooth legs locked around his calves as she moved against him, an active participant, as wild and out of control as he was.

“Blaise,” she said hoarsely, her internal muscles clenching around him, pulling his own response from him.

He let out a harsh groan as he came, his body trembling in the aftermath of the intense release.

He rolled to the side, bringing Ella with him, his brain in a fog, his entire body heavy. Satisfied in a way he never had been before, and at the same time, hungry for more of her. He would always be hungry for more of her.

He was losing his control, could feel it slipping from his hands even now, the walls inside of him crumbling, leaving him exposed, allowing him to feel. He took a breath, and her scent filled him. His heart clenched tight.

It was unacceptable. He could not allow it.

Ella felt like she was walking on a cloud. The fashion show had been a success, her clothing line would be featured in one of the world’s largest upscale department stores and she’d spent the entire night making love with Blaise.

Blaise. The man she loved.

She smiled as she pinned the sleeves on the jacket she was working on. She’d had to send some of her patterns out to sample makers since the workload was increasing, but there were a few key pieces she wanted to make sure she had a hand in, and her pink and gray trench was one of them.

The door to her studio opened and Ella turned sharply as Blaise strode in, his expression blank, his jaw tight. “You should lock the door,” he said, his voice low.

“Sorry,” she said, her stomach clenching. Everything about Blaise’s body language spoke of intent, not of a casual visit. After last night, after the past week, she expected him to greet her with a kiss, not to stand with five feet of blank space between them, arms crossed.

“We have something we need to discuss.”

Her stomach dropped. “Oh.” It wasn’t like she hadn’t known it would happen eventually, wasn’t as though she hadn’t realized that a man who didn’t believe in love wouldn’t believe in commitment…but just because a prisoner knew the execution date was coming, didn’t make it easier to bear.

And she’d thought…she’d thought it had changed. His walls had been coming down. He didn’t treat her like an anonymous sex object; he treated her like a prize. Surely that meant something. She didn’t say that, though. She didn’t say anything. She couldn’t.

“I’m ending our business association,” he said tightly, handing her a stack of tightly folded documents.

She took them, fingers numb at the tips as she tried to grasp them. She was certain he could see her shaking.

“But…my business…my…I have contracts. The Ella Stanton label is poised on the brink of making it,
I’m
poised on the brink of making it.”

“I am not calling the loan in. I am gifting you the amount of the loan, and the amount of the investment.”

Ella shook her head. “I don’t…I don’t understand. Is it because we’re in a relationship? Because that doesn’t make it feel right, either. I can’t just take money from you.”

“You didn’t seem to mind taking favors from me, connections, but if you’ve suddenly become above that, don’t worry. We will end our personal association as well,” he said, his voice flat, echoing in the expanse of the room.

She felt like the walls were closing in on her. “Why?”

“I’ve told you why. In truth I’m shocked you didn’t end things when I told you about Marie. So now, I will do it for you.”

“Why is that, Blaise?” she asked, her voice low, anger surging through her. “Because you couldn’t chase me away with the revelation of what a bad, bad man you are? And now you have to do it by being more direct? Because you were counting on that to get rid of me weren’t you? Counting on your reputation to chase me away.”

“It would get rid of anyone sane,” he said, flatly.

“And this would, too? Right? This act you’re pulling now, you standing there cold and flat when we both know how passionate you are.” She could see it for what it was, she could see through him, and even though his words hurt, she knew they weren’t real. She knew he was trying to protect himself. Because last night had cut deep, had forged a bond between them that was nearly frightening to her in intensity.