Undeniable Page 12

  “I don’t know any wonderful things about you.”

  He gives me a poisonous look, but I only smile wider. “I’m not going to be your wingman here, if that’s what you’re thinking. I thought it was Elaine you were interested in.”

  “I’m interested in all women.” He shakes his head, “In any case Elaine's more interested in the owner of this lovely house than she is in a poor old journalist like me. I don’t think a day has gone by when she doesn’t ask Constance when the guy is coming back."

  “And is he planning to, come back, I mean.”

  “I have no idea,” He says distantly, his mind already on something else. “I should leave you to work.” He leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.

  I don’t care what happens between Jackson and Elaine, I tell myself, as long as it happens when I’m safely away from Halcyon, as long as he doesn’t come back to disturb my peace of mind again. Offering a silent prayer to whatever is keeping him away, I turn my attention back to the picture on my computer.

  I’m still working when the door opens again. “I thought you were going to leave me to finish my work.” I say playfully, mimicking Nick's accent without looking up.

  He doesn’t reply. In the silence that follows, my fingers pause on the mouse, and I feel the familiar tingle going down my spine. Immediately, I know it’s not Nick, but Jackson, that I’ve somehow conjured him out of my thoughts, and he’s back to torment me again.

  Still I don’t look up, I don’t want to see him and acknowledge that he has returned, not when I hope he would disappear, not when despite the fact that I thought I didn’t want him to come back, my heart is pounding with excitement.

  “Are you going to ignore me until I go away?” His voice is smooth, teasing even. I listen to his footsteps as he walks closer, until he’s standing right in front of me.

  I look up at him, my expression deliberately insolent, resisting with all my strength, the urge to gawk at how delicious he looks. He’s wearing a suit, and dark one, with a pinstriped blue shirt underneath. The tie is missing, and the first button at the collar is open, exposing the column of his throat. It’s amazing how much I want to reach for him, how much I want to get up and wrap my arms around his waist, press my lips to the warm skin at his neck. For a moment, I’m filled with a strong urge to forget that we’re separated by this ocean of hurt and memories, to imagine instead that we’re still in love, and he’s come home to me, the woman he loves, who would waste no time in showing him how much she’s missed him.

  However, that’s not how we are, and that ocean of hurt and memories will never go away. I take a deep breath.

  “I didn’t know you were coming back.” I say, dragging my eyes away from him.

  “You hoped I wasn’t.”

  Could he read my mind? “I just assumed you’d rather be far away than be forced to endure my company.” I accompany the words with a saccharine smile.

  He looks amused, and I watch uneasily as he comes closer and drops to an elegant squat in front of me “You’re not wrong.” He states mildly.

  He is too close. I swallow, nervous and excited at the same time. “Then why are you here?”

  His gray eyes are burning into mine. I feel like I’m being held prisoner, part of me would like nothing more than to escape, but the other part would trade a lot to have him so close for all time. I wait for him to say something in reply to my question.

  “Because,” he says softly, his fingers reaching for my hair to move a few locks behind my ear, “There’s also a part of me that wants to be around you.”

  I shiver from his touch and move my head until his fingers are no longer touching me, “Aren’t you a glutton for punishment?” My voice is shaking.

  His brow rises questioningly, and I almost sigh. Why on earth does he have to be so beautiful? “If I am, then what about you?” he asks, “Nobody forced you to come back here.”

  “I already told I didn’t know you’d be here, Jackson.”

  “For a long time I couldn’t bear to be.” There is a small smile on his lips as he looks at me. “You ruined this house for me, Olivia. Did you know that? You turned it from a home into a store of painful memories.”

  Had the events of seven years ago really affected him that much? It’s hard to think so, considering how easily he had abandoned me. After I left Halcyon, for a long time, I hoped that one day he would show up and tell me that he loved me, that he couldn’t live without me, I hoped for an opportunity to vindicate myself, to heal the love that I thought we had.

  But he never came. I went through the worst period of my life alone, and he went on to be a rising star in the business and investment world, eventually conquering it, and multiplying his family fortunes while dating high profile women who appeared with him in society columns.

  If he had cared enough about me to abandon Halcyon because of memories of us, then why had he never tried to find me?

  “One more reason for you to hate me then,” I say flippantly, dismissing my train of thought. There was no use obsessing about the past. “My offences are many aren't they, if seven years haven’t been long enough to dull them in your memories.”

  He laughs, surprising me. “You’re so nonchalant about the past.” He says mildly, “Does it really mean so little to you? or are you just pretending?” His eyes move down to my lips, then back up to hold my eyes again. “That’s why I came back here at all, the thought of you coming to Halcyon as if you don’t care, as if the past means nothing. I had to come and see for myself.”

  “And now you’ve seen.” I say, trying not be affected by his nearness. I remove the laptop from my lap and set it on the coffee table by the chair, just to have something to do to keep my hands busy while he’s so close. “The past are just that, past, it means nothing to me, and it shouldn’t mean anything to you either."

  He rises to his feet, taking hold of my arms and pulling me up with him. Now we’re standing toe to toe, and it’s definitely much too close for me.

  “I know you’re lying.” He says softly.

  “No, you want to think I’m lying because it’s so impossible for anyone to get over the unsurpassable Jackson Lockewood. Well guess what, I'm not Lindsay Gorman, and I don’t want anything to do with you.”

  My outburst seems to amuse him. “Really?”

  “Yes,” I sigh, “I don’t care anymore about what happened in the past. I’ve moved on.”

  “That’s the thing,” He says. Why is his voice so soft? "I don’t believe you.”

  “Believe what you want.”

  We’re still facing each other, eye to eye. I pour all the indifference I can muster into my expression, and hope that he will back down. He doesn’t. Instead, he keeps looking at me with that small taunting playing on his lips.

  “I will.” His hand moves along my arm, his fingers drawing a teasing line down to my wrist, and against all my control, my body trembles.

  His lips quirk in a smile of triumph. “See, Olivia, that’s me proving that you’re lying.”

  “That’s you proving nothing.”

  “Okay,” He pauses. “So if against all my better judgment, I decide to kiss you now, you won’t feel anything.” His eyes dig into mine, “right?”

  “What I feel, is that you shouldn’t go against your better judgment.”

  “Someone should have said that to me eight years ago, before I ever laid a finger on you. Think of all we could have avoided.”

  “Yes.” I say. Why do I feel so unreasonably hurt that he would wish that what is still the happiest time of my life never happened?

  “My better judgment didn’t stop me then, and it won’t stop me now either, Olivia. I want to kiss you and watch you feel nothing in my arms. Maybe then I won't be consumed by the thought of what it would be like after all these years.” His eyes drop to my lips, “What do you think?”

  I’m not thinking anymore. My lips are tingling with anticipation. I run my tongue over them, only realizing afterwards, w
hen I see his eyes follow the movement hungrily, that I shouldn’t have. “I think you shouldn’t.” I whisper. Why am I so conflicted? I should storm out of the room. He could block my way, but I doubt he would hold me against my will. So what am I still doing here, standing in front on him, watching him while he drives me to uncontrollable lust?

  A finger moves underneath my chin, lifting my face up to his. “You’re not afraid, are you?”

  I shake my head. “What is there to be afraid of?”

  He laughs softly, “Yes, what?” he says, moments before his lips descend on mine.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I resist the urge to moan and relax against him. That’s what he wants, for me to let down my guard and give away the fact that I still want him, but I’d rather die than give him the satisfaction. I’d rather let the fire raging inside me, the need growing like hot flames in my core, to burn me to ashes rather than give in to it. I’m no longer the seventeen year old girl who didn’t know any better than to say yes to her body’s desires. I can say no.

  Nothing good can come from rekindling what we had in the past, I think, desperately holding on to my control as Jackson’s lips draw a sensuous path over mine. Already my nipples are stiff, my core clenching with need, and I can feel moisture gathering between my legs. I could just give in, the traitorous voice in my head says, enjoy the pleasure, once, twice, as many times as I can in the two days before I have to leave, or even after, as many times as it takes to get this insane desire for him out of my system.

  Only I know that no matter how many times, it would never be enough. It won’t assuage the hunger that has been building for years, the hunger that has now exploded in my body. Instinct tells me that Jackson will not be satisfied with just my physical surrender to him. He won’t be satisfied until he had fulfilled his desire to prove to himself that he left a mark on me that can’t be erased. If only he knew

  My thoughts keep me from falling victim to the slow, seduction of his kiss, the helpless desire I feel as his tongue licks over my lips, slipping inside my mouth to caress my own, the heat from his hands as they moves slowly up and down my arm, around my waist, and up to my breasts. I let him kiss me while I hold myself still, swallowing every moan growing in my throat and battling every ache of desire that urges me to respond.

  Even the memories I’ve tortured myself with all these years do not do him any justice, I think through my fog of arousal, as his fingers find a pebbled nipple through my clothes. I have to bite back a sigh when he brushes his finger back and forth over it, causing a persistent, sweet ache between my thighs, a pulsing need for nothing more than to take this pleasure to the end.

  He releases my lips, and his eyes are triumphant as he looks at me. “You may pretend all you want, but your body can’t lie. I know the meaning of the flush staining your skin, Olivia. I know why your heart is racing.” His fingers brush over my nipple again, then he pinches it lightly, just enough to send a sweet pulse of pleasure to my brain, and this time, a moan escapes me.

  “You’re not as uninterested as you pretend,” He continues, “Whatever you’ve convinced yourself in your head, your body hasn’t forgotten.”

  “It’s only sex,” I say, lifting my chin, trying my best to keep up an appearance of dignity, pride even. I try to sound as dismissive as I can, "and I’ve discovered since I left here that there are any number of men with hands and mouths that can make my skin flush and my heart race.

  The tightening of his jaw is almost imperceptible. “Are you trying to make me jealous?”

  “No, I’m trying to make you leave me alone.”

  “Hmmm.” He draws out the sound, and when I’m not expecting it, he lowers his head and kisses me again, this time, a soft kiss at the corner of my mouth. "It’s not working.” He says, his warm breath warming the skin of my face. “I still want to do this." He kisses me again, using his tongue to caress my bottom lip before delving inside to taste my own. “And this,” He releases my lips to trail kisses across my cheeks, my eyelids, making me so weak I can barely stand. "I still want to take off your clothes and bury myself in your sweet, responsive body. I still want to indulge myself in you, until I’m no longer haunted by the scent of your skin in my nose everywhere I go, the memory of the feel of your body, your breasts that fit so perfectly in my hands." He pauses to place one last kiss on my lips, “after seven years of carrying all that around, I deserve some relief, don’t I? I deserve a chance to find out if the reality lives up to the memories."

  “Well you’re not going to.” I manage shakily. The images he has conjured in my head are so graphic, I can hardly keep myself from tearing off his clothes. I need to get away, I think. I need a cold shower, because at this point, I’m one step away from stripping and spreading my legs right here in the library so he can give me the relief my body is dying for

  I push away from him and pick up my laptop, holding it like a shield between him and me. “I’m not interested in making myself available so you can prove to yourself that I still want you.”

  “I don’t have to prove anything, sweetheart. I already know. You can run all you want. It doesn’t change what your body wants."

  I manage a shaky laugh. “I’m not running away, I’m staying away from you, because I have better things to do than to argue about what my body does or doesn't want.”

  “Arguing is the least of things I want to do with you, Olivia.” His smile is charming and persuasive, “Let me give you what you want."

  What I want is for him to love me. That’s all I’ve wanted since I first met him. That’s all I’ve wanted even in the years I’ve spent without him, trying to get over him. I want him to listen when I tell him everything that’s happened, to offer me the comfort I’ve wanted for years that only he can give me, to banish all the ghosts that still haunt me.

  But he doesn’t want to give me comfort. He wants to take, to subjugate my body until the anger he’s carried around all these years is spent. Will I enjoy the subjugation? Probably. But then what? A new cycle of hurt and pain?

  “You can’t give me what I want.” I tell him.

  He takes a step towards me. “Try me.”

  Why does he look so earnest? The smile is gone, and looking at him, I can almost convince myself that he means something more than just sex. I swallow painfully.

  “Olivia...”

  I don’t hear what he’s about to say, because, at that moment, the door opens, and Elaine walks into the room.

  “Oh, Jackson!” She exclaims, practically simpering. “I had no idea you were back.”

  When he turns to her, the intense expression leaves his face, replaced by the charm that is the face he shows to the world. “I only just arrived.” He tells her.

  She frowns. “Really, I was right outside, I didn’t see you come in.”

  “That’s because I brought my boat.” His smile at her is almost indulgent, “and I came in through the back.”

  Her eyes widen as the sophisticated mask drops. “A boat! Wow! Do I get to see it?”

  “Of course.”

  I tune out of their conversation after that. He walks towards her and they keep talking and laughing. I may as well not be in the room.

  I leave them and go upstairs to my room. Outside, the day is turning to twilight, and the light from the setting sun is creating some beautiful effects with the few clouds in the darkening sky.

  I should take a picture, I think, but I don’t. I don’t reach for my camera. Instead, I keep looking outside until the sun is nothing more than a faint grayness in the west.

  Soon it will be dinnertime, and I’ll have to go downstairs and make conversation regardless of the turmoil bubbling inside me. I’ll sit at a table with Jackson and try to be civil even though I hate him so much and yet love him even more.

  How could I have thought that I could come here without any consequences? That Jackson would let me do my work in peace without using his many advantages to revert me to the helpless girl who left here sev
en years ago.

  How could I have thought I was over him? That’s the biggest lie I’ve told myself through the years, because I’ll never be over him. I'm always going to want him. To lose hold on all my senses whenever he’s near because whether he knows it or not, he did leave a mark on me.

  I wish I could leave, abandon my assignment and run away from Halcyon like I did seven years ago, but I won’t give him that satisfaction. For two more days, I can look him in the eye and pretend, yes pretend that he means nothing to me.

  Maybe it’s the memory of the first time I left Halcyon, but I’m suddenly seized with a desire to see my old room. I go outside to the corridor and make my way towards the other wing, where the master suite and the other family room are located. The door to the room is unlocked. I push it open, expecting it to have changed in some way, to have been redecorated to match any one of the other unused room in the house.

  But it’s exactly the same. It’s almost as if I only just stepped out, and my eighteen year old self will return at any moment, to her books, her posters, and her bed.

  I close my eyes as the flood of memories engulfs me. All the scenes from all those years ago, and Jackson, always Jackson, making love to me, teasing me, and talking about his plans, for himself, for us. In here, the memories are alive.

  I push them away and continue inside. It’s surprisingly clean, with none of the dust one would expect from a space that hasn’t been used in a long time. I go to sit on the bed, feeling the soft mattress gives way underneath me. Again all those bittersweet memories from a lifetime ago fill my mind.

  Will I ever forget, I wonder. Will there ever come a time when I’ll remember Jackson and feel nothing? When I’ll find happiness in the arms of some other man who will make me forget that I ever loved Jackson Lockewood.

  It doesn’t seem likely, not when even the idea of giving my heart to someone else feels like a betrayal of who I am and what I know I want.

  There is a small creak as the door opens fully, and I look up, half expecting to see Jackson again, conjured as usual from the act of my just thinking about him, but it’s only Constance.