Treasure Your Love (Surrender Your Love #3)

Treasure Your Love (Surrender Your Love #3) Page 15

My eyes moistened again. I wanted to assure him that I understood because I knew that losing his father had been hard on him, but didn’t. Instead I said, “You don’t have to explain.”

“Let’s go out for dinner tomorrow after work. I’ll book us a table wherever you want. You pick.”

Too late.

By tomorrow evening, I’d be in Oregon and Jett would be waiting for me, wondering where I was. He’d call my cell, then Sylvie’s, after which his worry would magnify. How long would he wait before filing a missing person report? Would he hire Kenny again to find me? Probably, only this time there would be no credit card purchases and no flight tickets to show me boarding a plane. Tears ran down my face. There would be many more in a future that seemed blank and depressing without him.

“Baby?” Jett said, jerking me out of my depressing thoughts. His tone was pleading, and I realized he had misinterpreted my silence. “I want to make it up to you. Maybe this weekend. No phones. No work. Just you and me, white beaches, and good food.”

“I’d love that.” I smiled bitterly, meaning every word. Now was the time to tell him all the things I wouldn’t get the chance to say to him in the future. I thought of the one thing I could say without raising his suspicion. “I couldn’t wish for a better boyfriend than you, Jett. Thank you for always being here for me and for loving me the way I am.”

Thanks for everything.

I walked over to the huge corner bathtub and turned on the cold-water stream, and shrugged out of my clothes.

“I’ll be in my office,” Jett said softly. “Call me if you need anything.”

I waited until he walked away. Only when I was completely sure he was gone did I step into the freezing water, knowing that not even the cold could numb the pain. Pulling myself under until my body was submerged with the only sound the beating of my heart drumming hard in my ears, I let my tears flow freely.

Chapter 14

I CONSIDERED MYSELF blessed. I truly did. I had experienced love. I had met that someone special who made my heart flutter and, most importantly, reciprocated my feelings. I had a best friend who’d always be there for me. I was blessed, because I had lived.

Better love and lose than never love at all.

I kept telling myself that every single second of every hour that passed. So why was it so hard to let go when time demanded that we part? Life didn’t always warn us when we had to say goodbye. If we knew when it was time to leave, maybe we’d make more of an effort to spend as many moments as possible with the people we loved. And there lay my problem—even though I knew my moments were counted, I couldn’t deal with it.

I sat in a dark place, on an unknown road, with absolutely no clue where I was headed. Desperation washed over me as I realized I might never experience this kind of happiness again. I’d never meet someone as great as Jett. Knowing I’d lose him brought out the worst in me. A part of me wanted to write a letter to tell him how truly happy I had been with him. I wanted him to know just how much I had looked forward to a future full of happiness. And yet I couldn’t. If Jett thought I had died, this letter would never bring him consolation; it would bring him guilt. I decided to do it the hard way—no letters, no hints, nothing to trace back to this one moment.

By the time Jett finished up work, it was past midnight. Apart from a sliver of moonlight falling in through the pulled curtains, the bedroom was bathed in darkness. The mattress groaned under Jett’s weight, as he lay down gently, careful not to wake me. My eyes remained closed, but I could sense his gaze on me. His arm wrapped around me, barely touching my skin, and his warm breath tickled the nape of my neck. Eventually his breathing slowed down.

Even in the darkness of the room with nothing but the feeling of his arms around me, my mind continued to seek him, as if he was already far away. I lay awake facing the digital watch. With every minute that passed, with every hour that went by, my dread intensified. At 3.15 a.m., Jett stirred and I turned to regard his sleeping features. My heart broke at the sight. Careful not to wake him, I let my fingers trace the contours of his face. But Jett had always been a light sleeper. He opened his eyes groggily and pulled me to his chest.

“Trouble sleeping?”

My throat was so choked with emotion I couldn’t reply. Instead, I just nodded. There were no more words to say, so my lips touched his mouth gently. It was just a brief kiss, but enough to wake him up instantly.

I smiled. It was a bitter kind of smile as my fingers touched his naked chest, marveling at the smoothness of his skin and the warmth seeping into my body. It took him only a second to process where I was heading, and then his hands slid around my head as I kissed him again. I thought crushing my lips against his would help subdue the pain. That it’d bring me relief by stealing that one last kiss. Instead it ate me up from the inside. Breaking me apart.

“I need you,” I whispered against his lips, and climbed on top of him. “Deeply. Whatever you wish.”

“You’re asking for it? In the middle of the night?” He sounded unconvinced. In the moonlight his green eyes shimmered dark, every trace of sleep gone.

“Yes,” I whispered.

I had been wrong. The pain wasn’t breaking my heart; it was killing me. I wanted to have it ripped out of my body. Fucked out of my system. Tomorrow had become today, and I didn’t want to think about it anymore.

“I want it rough,” I said. “I want you to fuck me like you don’t care about me. Like I’m just a stranger.”

The air between us was charged with questions unspoken. I could feel Jett’s hesitation, his doubts, his confusion.

“I can’t do that.” He sat up and pushed me away gently but definitely. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Rejecting me when I needed it the most was the last thing I expected.

I was so furious, I slapped him. Not hard, but hard enough to make him look up. I tried slapping him again, but this time he caught my wrists, pulling me close to him.

“Brooke, no,” he said, determined. “I’m not that kind of person.”

I yanked my arms away, but he didn’t let go.

“I need you, Jett. I need you right now,” I whispered. I bent forward to kiss him again but he withdrew with a confused expression on his face.

“Back in the Hamptons you said you’re not into rough sex.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” I whispered. “It’s what I need now. Please. Don’t you see that I’m asking you? I want you to fuck me hard.” I rocked my hips against his groin, not wanting to give up. “Please.” He didn’t pull back, which showed me his resolution was weakening.

I inched closer again to kiss him, and this time he responded the way I expected him to. He let go of my hand and flipped me back on the bed, positioning himself on top of me. His mouth hit mine with such ferocity, it knocked all the air out of me. I looked up, suddenly scared. His eyes shimmered with a dangerous glint, and there was just the hint of a smile on his lips.

“You want it rough, baby? If that’s what you need, you’ll get it.” His knees squeezed between my legs, parting them. “But I’ll have it my way.”

Chapter 15

JETT MAYFIELD WAS the first one to reciprocate my love and set my heart on fire. He was my summer love, and my feelings for him were real. I knew because I couldn’t stand the thought of him being with someone else. My mind kept seeking him whenever he wasn’t with me, and my heart trembled just hearing the sound of his name. Intermingled with my love and the happiness I felt around him, there was sadness—a black heavy sadness coming from a sudden but ugly awareness that not everything in life is meant to last. To taste happiness in pieces and then have it taken from you, leaving behind nothing but jaded memories that are like bullets, tearing you open, wounding you, scattering you into a million fragments—I wasn’t sure I was ready for that just yet.

I wasn’t sure if I could face a future without him.

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and stroked my hand over my belly, as if the motion could protect my unborn child from the knowledge that I was about to break the trust of the one I loved. I was doing it for us. It was better for us. If he knew what I was about to do today, that I’d break my promise and leave him, he’d try to stop me. I just knew. I couldn’t risk anyone hurting him. I’d rather it was me who ended up hurt.

At five a.m., I dressed in the bathroom, grabbed my bag, and left. I didn’t even bother to take a shower or put on makeup. Fuck my appearance. There were more important things to take care of.

It was a new dawn—a dark dawn—as I took a taxi to Mayfield Realties and told the driver to stop a block away. He wasn’t thrilled to let me walk the distance but didn’t argue. I paid and stepped out into the chilly morning air, wrapping my jacket around me as I headed in the opposite direction. In a little more than five hours I’d be driving to the airport. If I wanted to initiate changes, I had to do it before anyone noticed.

Maybe Robert Mayfield thought he could remove me from Jett’s life, but he couldn’t take away my dignity or sense of justice. He’d get the book he desperately wanted, but I had no intention of giving him the disk, and I sure had no intention of making him aware of its existence.

I stepped into the self-service kiosk of a hotel lobby and jotted down Sylvie’s address on a prepaid flat-rate envelope and sealed the disk inside. Angered by the ugly awareness that I could never tell Sylvie what really happened, nor include a letter, I paid with the only prepaid credit card I owned and left the kiosk, hoping the envelope would arrive safely; hoping that somehow Sylvie would understand the silent message. I knew she’d feel the urgency. She’d know what to do. They might never find me, but with Kenny by her side, maybe they could still unravel the secret of the Lucazzone estate.

Leaning against the cold wall of the building, I felt better. Hopeful almost. Not about my future, but about the fact that Robert Mayfield hadn’t won. I wondered what would happen to the beautiful Italian mansion once the lawyer realized the heiress was gone. Would Alessandro Lucazzone sell? Would Jett still be inclined to buy?

With the sun rising, the streets began to fill with life. I walked the short distance to my office and let myself into the foyer. The morning security guards exchanged glances as I showed them my ID.

“Busy day,” I mumbled by means of explanation. I ignored their chatter and headed for the elevator, ready for the second part of my plan.

I had every intention to make my last day in my job as painless to everyone as possible—even if that involved keeping people at a safe distance and, in Jett’s case, breaking up with him. It was a necessity, and the only way he’d move on with his life sooner rather than later. If only I could find a way to make him believe I didn’t care about him, I knew I’d feel better knowing he wouldn’t be hurt by the way I’d suddenly disappeared from his life forever.

I was about to finish sorting through the papers for the first conference meeting and placing files back in the cabinet when I heard Jett’s voice down the hall.