WORTHY, Part 1 (27 page)

I wanted nothing more than to take the elevator up to Jonathan’s office, to weep into his arms and tell him to fire everyone, to sack and pillage and burn the company to the ground, but that still wouldn’t erase the hurtful thoughts from my mind, the mixture of fascination and horror from Carlos’ face.

I pushed out the doors and onto the street, walking as quickly as I could before I broke into a jog. I had to get away from there, away from all those prying eyes. Besides, the cold winter air and the breeze from the lake were the perfect excuse for a runny nose, for watery, red eyes. I wasn’t crying. I was running.

I darted around people, the fire in my chest and lungs burning out all of the emotions, all of the horror and insecurity. I didn’t care that exertion would make my scar a livid red. I didn’t care that everyone would see it. I would run so fast that they didn’t know what they saw.

Alternately sprinting and slowing down to make sure that I would continue moving at street crossings, I continued my run, my long purge of bad feelings. Collier had convinced me to stay, but I still wasn’t convinced myself whether it was a good idea or not. I was used to living in the wilderness, to not having to explain myself or my painful past to people who were curious about the scar. I knew I couldn’t blame them. People, by nature, were a curious bunch. But it was so painful to have the most horrifying part of my life on full display for the world to see. It made me feel naked and vulnerable.

I pounded down a set of stairs and dashed through a tunnel, sprinting for all I was worth toward a light. When I emerged on the other side, I realized I’d gone beneath Lake Shore Drive and was now by Lake Michigan.

The wind coming off the water was downright frigid, and I knew that I was underdressed for it. I ran on, uncaring, letting the deep blue of the water absorb the hurt I was leaving in my wake. There were other joggers and walkers using the trail, as well as a good number of dog owners. I blew past them, relieved that they were too involved in their own little worlds to notice mine. My face was numb from cold, but I could imagine just how nasty my scar looked.

If I had my smartphone with me, I could’ve listened to some music on headphones as I ran, as so many other people were doing. Instead, I listened to the music of the slap of my sneakers against the asphalt beneath me. I listened to the music of the passing cars on Lake Shore Drive, the honk of the occasional irate driver, the revving of engines as people hurried to get to where they needed to be. I listened to the music of the lake, the wind whipping the water, and the waves lapping the shore. I wondered if I would ever see the spectacle of the frozen lake that Lucy had told me about. I honestly didn’t think I’d last that long here in the city to see it.

It was a day-to-day affair for me. Just get through today and see what tomorrow would bring.

Finally, good and out of breath, feeling empty and pure inside, I jogged to a stop, putting my hands on my knees, sucking air and puffing it back out in white vapor clouds. For better or worse, this was what I needed. I needed some sort of physical outlet to banish all of the little mind games I’d been enduring. Even though it had started terribly, this run was the best thing I could’ve done today.

I turned back the way I’d come, aware that I had gone a long way, and started walking back to the Wharton Group compound, thinking about things. Even though I’d been humiliated in the corporate gym, today was going to be a good day. I’d seen the lake, Jonathan was ending things with Violet, and things could only get better from here on out. Just as he’d told his family, I was his fiancée. It was me. He loved me. And we were going to continue to work toward our future together.

The sweat had wet my clothes, and I was swiftly losing the body warmth I’d generated through exercise. I was sure I was giving off an enormous cloud of steam, and my legs and hands were chapped and red. People were giving me more than glancing stares as I passed them on the sidewalk, and I was sure it had little to do with me being poorly dressed for the weather. I didn’t care, though. My run had emptied me of all caring. Right now, all I wanted to do was get back to the compound, take a shower, and see what Jonathan was doing.

I wished there were an entrance to the house that didn’t require passing through the corporate building’s lobby. I’d have to ask Lucy. I put the hood of my sweatshirt up and walked as quickly as possible, breathing a sigh of relief when I was back out in the cold of the courtyard. There were just a few people braving the frigid temperatures to get their nicotine fix. It was probably past lunchtime.

There weren’t any staff members to greet me when I opened the door, which was fine by me. I eased my aching feet out of my sneakers and carried them up the stairs, each step I took painful but good. I had really pushed my body today, and it turned out to be exactly what I needed. I could do a few flights of stairs before calling it quits.

I was noiseless in my sock feet, shivering from my sweaty clothes, the heat in the house making my face feel like it was on fire. I didn’t hear a single sound and started to strip off my workout wear, peeling off my sweatshirt and T-shirt in one movement and leaving myself in my soaked-through sports bra. My nipples were so hard that they practically poked holes through the stretchy material, but I didn’t care. I was so sure I was alone.

When I pushed open the bedroom door, the only thought in my mind being getting in the shower, I was surprised by Jonathan.

Jonathan with his lips attached to Violet’s lips.

Jonathan with Violet’s arms thrown around his neck.

Jonathan and Violet kissing. My husband to be kissing his former fiancée.

I didn’t belong here. I didn’t belong here. I tried to back out of the room again, to flee the way I’d come. I stumbled in my shock and haste, dropping my sneakers with a thump against the wood floor.

I looked at the spectacle in horror, just in time to see Jonathan pull away, bring his hand to his mouth, and look at me.

I actually laughed. I didn’t know whose face was worse—mine or his. We were equally horrified.

“Michelle,” he gasped. “This isn’t—I didn’t—fuck!”

I shook my head, my entire body quavering. I was always going to be the third wheel in this triangle. I couldn’t compare with Violet. She had it all. And her lips had just tasted what was supposed to be mine. Wasn’t Jonathan supposed to tell her not to try anymore, that it was over? Was that his way of communicating the fact?

The blonde stared at me, calculating, gauging my reaction. She was smarter than she looked and had probably orchestrated this entire thing. Jonathan—the way he was now, anyways, robbed of his memories—was too guileless to understand what she’d meant to do.

But I understood everything. Everything.

“Michelle, I’m sorry,” he said, the look of horror intensifying on his face. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, for you to see—for any of this.” He was babbling.

“I think it’s good that you saw,” Violet said smoothly. Her voice was so falsely innocent, but I could hear the cold undercurrent beneath the words. She had planned everything. She was used to getting what she wanted, and she wanted her fiancé back—no matter if he was supposed to marry me.

“What?” Jonathan demanded, fisting his hands in his hair. ”How can you say that? This was a mistake, Michelle. A mistake!”

“We’re meant to be together,” Violet urged. “We are. I know we are. You might have lost your memories, but you didn’t lose your heart. Search it, Jonathan. I know I’m in there somewhere. That’s why you haven’t told me to go to hell.”

I remembered suddenly that I was standing practically naked in front of this horrible confrontation, a sweaty bra and pair of leggings the only armor I had. I was sure that my makeup had melted off long ago during my run.

Despite my obvious disadvantage, despite the cuckoldry, despite my vulnerability, I was calm.

“I think you’re right,” I said. “I think you’re both right. It is a mistake, and it is good that I saw.”

That shocked both of them into silence, and I knew I had their full attention.

“We’ve said and done lots of things so far,” I said. “But I think now is the best time to make some final decisions.”

I looked at Jonathan and had to struggle to keep my composure. Tears glistened in his eyes, and he looked utterly gutted. I had to stay strong, though, and I set my shoulders. I couldn’t simply stand by anymore and watch Violet try to sink her claws into the love of my life. No matter how badly I felt for her situation, Jonathan was mine now. She just needed to understand that.

“I need you to make a choice, Jon,” I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

“I already have, baby,” he said brokenly, but I shook my head at him.

“It needs to be final,” I said. “Right here, right now, I need to know. Do you want to marry me? Or do you want to marry Violet? We both need an answer.”

It was a long, ugly silence, weaving around us like something alive. Violet looked somewhere between triumphant and terribly desperate, her head held high. Jonathan, on the other hand, could barely look at me. My heart twisted as one tear wet a trail down his cheek. It was all I could do to stand still, to keep myself from rushing across the floor to comfort him.

This was it. This was my last stand. I couldn’t play this game anymore of Violet always waiting in the wings for something to happen, for something to go wrong between Jonathan and me so that she could swoop in and take advantage of it.

This ended now. This ended here. Life was difficult enough as it was with Jonathan’s memories gone as he tried to navigate his former life. Neither of us needed Violet’s scheming to add to the equation.

“We decided to have lunch here,” Jonathan said, wringing his hands. I wanted to thread my fingers through his, but I forced my own hands to stay still. “The chef made us soup and salad.”

I was perversely relieved that he hadn’t taken her to the restaurant he and I wanted to go to. That had to mean something, right? Of course, I’d just stumbled upon Violet trying to suck the lips clean off his face, so something else was clearly afoot.

“We came up here because she said she wanted to show me something in one of the boxes,” Jonathan continued, looking sick.

“That’s a lie,” Violet said. “He invited me.”

Jonathan shook his head, his jaw set. Brock’s words echoed in my head. I never should have pitied Violet. She had been dangerous this whole time, waiting for a chance to step in when we both had our guards down. It had been very well played. I had to give her that.

“She kissed me,” Jonathan said brokenly. “She kissed me, Michelle.”

“You liked it,” Violet said, tossing her blond hair. “Admit it.”

“I don’t care who liked what or not,” I said. “I asked a question, and I need to know the answer. Jonathan, do you want to marry me? Or do you want to marry Violet?”

“That’s easy,” Violet cut in as Jonathan opened his mouth. “He wants to marry me. He always has. You’re just some ugly, gold-digging slut. Who would ever want you?”

“Enough!” Jonathan roared at her, making us both flinch. “That’s enough! I could never love someone like you, Violet! Never! I’m ashamed of the man I used to be! What man could fall in love with someone as manipulative and shallow as you?”

I didn’t know whose mouth had dropped open farther, Violet’s or mine. I fully expected for her to turn on the waterworks, but her eyes stayed suspiciously dry. There was some light of hope for me. Maybe she only cried if she thought there was a chance of winning.

“Michelle, it has always been you,” Jonathan said, breaking my heart and shoring it up at the same time as two tears rolled down both of his cheeks. “It has always been you, and it will always be you. I—I’ve started thinking that maybe I was meant to be in that accident, that I was meant to lose everything just so I could find you. You are my everything. Please marry me. This idiocy is over. I’ll find a judge. We can be married tonight if you want. Just say you will. Say you will.”

“Of course I will,” I said, running to him, pressing my cold, sweaty body against his suit. He crushed me to him so tight that I couldn’t breathe, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to breathe if I couldn’t be with him. He was everything to me.

When we finally broke from our embrace, Violet was still there, staring at us.

“I think it’s time for you to leave,” I said, happy that I could finally voice my thoughts aloud.

“I’m sure you remember the way out,” Jonathan added pointedly.

“I will never forget this,” Violet raged, her pretty face turning pink in her anger. “I will never, never forget this.”

“Some things are worth forgetting,” Jonathan said, kissing me as Violet left in a huff.

“Do you think she’s gone forever?” I asked, enjoying the feel of Jonathan’s arms around me and the new knowledge that I would never have to worry about Violet falling into them again.

“Well, I think my mom likes her,” Jonathan said. “And Jane hangs out with her a lot. But I don’t think Violet will be bothering us otherwise anymore.”

“Please, God, let that be true,” I said, sagging in his arms.

“Why are you all sweaty and cold?” he asked, seeming to notice my state of undress for the first time, rubbing his hand over my bare chest and my breast, lingering over the nipple.

“I tried to go work out in the office, but decided to go for a jog outside instead,” I said, not wanting to go into my reasoning for doing so. Everything had fallen—temporarily—into place. I didn’t want one asshole trainer ruining our moment of peace, no matter how brief it might be.

“You went running outside?” Jonathan asked. “But it’s freezing.”

“I wasn’t cold when I was running,” I said, shrugging.

“You should get in a hot shower,” he said. “Come on. I’ll help.”

“I can bathe myself, thank you very much,” I said, my teeth chattering in spite of my bravado.

“Michelle, I want to do this,” Jonathan said. “Please let me.”

“Aren’t you going to be late getting back to work?” I asked, wrapping my arms around myself and following him to the bathroom.

“Fuck work, and excuse my language,” he said, turning the shower on. “I’m spending the rest of the day with you.”

He stripped his suit off, letting it fall to the floor, and helped peel me out of the remainder of my clothing. Once we both stood in the shower, it was divine. Jonathan rubbed me gently as I gradually stopped shaking. I didn’t know what felt better—his hands all over me or the hot water. Together, they were like heaven.

“Will you ever forgive me for Violet?” Jonathan asked softly. I looked up at him and saw, with alarm, that his face was full of anguish.

“Hey,” I said. “It wasn’t your fault. I told you. She’s a grand manipulator. I’m just happy that we’re finally free of her. I don’t blame you. You were just trying to do what’s right by giving her a chance. She’s the one who took advantage of you.”

“I’d like to take advantage of the rest of our day together,” he said, soaping my body up and massaging away all the aches and pains. “Are you all right with that?”

“Oh, yes,” I breathed, leaning into him as he kneaded my shoulders and back before moving down my spine to my buttocks. He kneeled behind me, caressing my thighs and calves, then lifting my feet one by one and rubbing them thoroughly. I either wanted to collapse on the floor of the shower and take an immediate nap, or pounce on Jonathan and have my way with him.

Some late burst of energy made me choose the latter, and I sank to my knees, hugging Jonathan to me.

“Make love to me,” I whispered, not sure he’d hear me over the patter of the water falling around us.

He heard me, all right, leaning me back until I was half reclined against the warm tile floor, propped up on my elbows. From there, he drew my legs up and around his waist and positioned the tip of his hardening member just at my entrance. Jonathan locked eyes with me before plunging slowly in, way too slowly for what I wanted. I moaned out my arousal and my discontent, hoping I could egg him on.

But Jonathan was not to be rushed. He built a leisurely pace, quickening only after every ten strokes or so, drawing out my pleasure, forcing me to be patient.

“Fuck me,” I groaned, trying to grind my body against his fruitlessly. My position made it hard to contribute to the momentum, and Jonathan only grinned at me as he continued his slow, torturous onslaught.

“I want to have sex for the rest of the day,” he said, dragging his tongue over my collarbone. “Do you think we can manage it?”

“I might have to take a nap at some point,” I moaned, staring at him from beneath my heavy eyelids. “And if you don’t fuck me hard and proper, I might just do so right here.”

“Language, language,” Jonathan tittered, slamming into me just as hard as I’d been wanting him to do all along. “If you keep that up, you’re going to get punished.”

“Is that what I have to do to get a good lay around here?” I teased. “You should’ve told me the rules to this fucking game a lot fucking earlier.”

If I hadn’t already been so turned on, the next few thrusts would’ve been brutal. As it was, I was ready for them, mewling and crying out and squeezing Jonathan’s rib cage between my sore thighs.

“You’re a naughty girl,” he said, grinning lecherously before kissing me deeply. The warm water felt so good—like we were having sex in the summer rain. I hoped that, one day, we would be able to actually do that back at the cottage. Here, the shower was the next best thing.

I lost track of just how long Jonathan had been pumping in and out of me. The one good thing was that the water stayed warm. I imagined that the water heaters for the Whartons’ house were enormous to the point of never ending.

But we couldn’t do this forever. One of us had to quit.

In the end, it was me who gave out. After one particular thrust sent me flailing over the edge, everything seemed to fall into place. I had a long, rolling, screaming orgasm that went on and on for so long that Jonathan finally saw fit to cover my mouth with his hand, even as his eyes rolled back in his head and he shouted his release.

We rested together, limp, with fingers and toes wrinkled, as the water continued to fall.

“Well, I think everyone in the house knows you’re taking the rest of the day off,” I said. “Sorry about that.”

“Never apologize for how awesome our sex is,” Jonathan said, kissing me before staggering to his feet and turning the shower off. “There is absolutely nothing to be sorry about.”

I struggled so much to get up that Jonathan finally scooped me into his arms and carried me to the bed. We napped and made love for the rest of the day, a gentle rhythm that healed all wounds. Around dinnertime, Jonathan called down to the kitchen and had them prepare dinner in bed—a luxurious affair that led to drinking wine and even more lovemaking.

If only every day could be like this. We’d never leave the room, never see anyone, never get anything done, but remain in utter bliss.