Addicted to You Read online

  We’re both silent after that, but I’m aware of him beside me. I wonder what he’s thinking, and if he still believes that Landon doesn’t deserve me. I feel his eyes on me, and I turn towards him. He has a sad and thoughtful expression on his face.

  “What?” I ask gently, unnerved by the depth of emotions in his eyes.

  He keeps looking at me, his eyes searching my face. “Are you happy?” he asks finally.

  There is a false sense of intimacy created by how close we’re sitting, by the familiarity of his features, by the knowledge that he knows me better than most people. For a moment, I’m tempted to open up to him, to tell him my fears about Landon. But I hold back, choosing not to respond to the question. Am I happy? Yes, when I’m with Landon. When I don’t have to think of anything else but the fact that he’s with me, I’m content. But when I allow myself to think of what we are, of where we’re going…

  Jack is watching my face, as if he’s reading my emotions on my features. I look away from his searching eyes, and at that moment, a couple enters the room. The man is the sports lawyer who’d been flirting with me earlier. The woman looks slightly older, with straightened blonde hair and a nice figure. She waves at Jack then comes over to say hi, leaving her companion to find them seats.

  “Sweetheart,” she coos, kissing his cheeks.

  “This is Cecily,” he tells me, after their greeting. “Cecily, Rachel.”

  The woman peers at me as if I look familiar to her. “Hello,” she says,

  “You two have Landon Court in common,” Jack says. He lounges back on his seat. “Cecily lasted about three months, am I right?”

  Cecily’s face clouds, then she shrugs, before giving me a speculative look. “You’re the new girlfriend,” she says. “I thought I’d seen your face somewhere.” Her companion signals to her from across the room, and she starts to leave, then turns back to me. “Word of advice? Don’t ask him about the future.”

  She’s gone before I say what’s on the tip of my tongue, that I don’t need her advice.

  “What is wrong with you?” I hiss at Jack. “You’re parading Landon’s exes just to prove something to me?”

  “The opportunity presented itself,” he says, with a shrug at my annoyed expression. “I care about you, Rachel.”

  “Oh please!” I toss at him, getting up. “I’m obviously not the only one who’s changed, Jack. I don’t remember you being this much of an asshole.” I stalk out of the room, heading downstairs to the bathroom. I waste time in there, reapplying my lip gloss and staring at my reflection in the mirror.

  Don’t ask him about the future.

  He’s been fucking her for years.

  I’m trying, really trying, not to entertain my fears about my relationship with Landon. I’m trying to exist contentedly in the knowledge that at least he wants to be with me too, that for now at least, he needs me as much as I need him.

  But it’s so hard when every minute something comes up to remind me of the heartache that is surely going to be part of my future with him.

  I try to dismiss Jack and his friend, to shrug off what she said, then I see Ava Sinclair’s face in my head. She’s in San Francisco right now, with him. I close my eyes as insane possibilities assault my mind, until it feels like I can’t breathe.

  My phone is in my purse. I retrieve it and type her name in the search panel. I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for, but my greatest dread is that I’ll find something to confirm my fears.

  The first result is a news article from yesterday evening. I click on it. “The brightest and the most beautiful!” the headline screams, then there’s a picture of Landon walking out of a building with Ava Sinclair.

  “He may be taking over the hotel that has been in her family for generations, but it seems that it’s Ava Sinclair who has Billionaire Landon Court wrapped around her little finger. The twice-divorced socialite was spotted with the hotelier at the Fairmont Royal in San Francisco after enjoying a cozy dinner. Sources say they have a passionate history. Is this old romance being rekindled?”

  I study the picture, trying to read everything about their body language and the self-satisfied smirk on her face. It doesn’t help that she looks exquisite even in a candid picture.

  He’s been fucking her for years.

  What was she to Landon exactly? Why was he spending so much time with her?

  I type a quick text to Rafael letting him know that I’m ready to leave. Then I send one to Laurie, telling her I have a headache and Rafael will be back to pick her and Chelsea whenever they’re ready to go home. There’s a crush of people on the way to the exit, and I push past them, willing myself to stop thinking.

  You decided to be with him for as long as you could, I tell myself. Don’t overthink anything.

  I repeat it as a mantra in my head until I make it outside. There’s still a line of people trying to get in, and I can’t see Rafael yet. So as I wait, I search my mind for all the reassuring things Landon has ever said to me. Everything that makes me sure, deep down, that we have something that’s more than just sex.

  Then I see Ava Sinclair’s smirk, and I forget how to think.

  “Rachel.”

  Jack is walking up to me. He looks as if he ran out after me, but I don’t care what he wants. I blame him, for ruining my evening, and my peace of mind.

  “What?” I hiss at him. “What do you want?”

  He sighs. “I’m sorry, about back there. I just wanted to show you what kind of man…”

  “Oh fuck you, Jack!” I say it loud enough that a few people turn to look at us. “You can’t stand to lose your favorite toy, is that it? You can’t stand that I’ve moved on? For God’s sake, Jack! Get over it.”

  “I can’t.” He closes the distance between us and there’s an intensity in his eyes I never saw there in all the time we were together. “I can’t. Rachel, I… I love you okay? I’m in love with you.”

  I close my eyes, all the anger slowly draining out of me, replaced by confusion and sadness. My first thought is of everything I would give to have Landon be the one standing in front of me and saying those words.

  Maybe Jack takes my silence as capitulation because he steps forward and takes my face in his hands, kissing me with something that feels like desperation.

  It only lasts for a few seconds. I push away from him, just as I see Rafael parking the limo and stepping out, his eyes on Jack.

  “Are you all right?” he asks me, rushing over to insert himself between me and Jack.

  “Yes, I’m fine.” I spare a glance at Jack, hoping that the displeasure in my eyes is enough to communicate that there is never going to be another chance for him, then I follow Rafael to the waiting car.

  LAURIE is asleep when I leave for the airport. I was still awake and thinking about Landon when she came in at about three in the morning. I had planned to ask her how it went with Chadwick, but I can do that over the phone.

  I spend the hours on the plane trying to read, but my thoughts keep intruding, my mind traveling to some imagined future where Landon is no longer a part of my life. I imagine the emptiness, the desolation, and it feels so real…

  …and inevitable.

  Then there’s Jack, and his declaration of love. Love! What the fuck had he been thinking?

  I give up on reading and bury my face in my hands. I see Jack in my memories, the way I used to see him all those months when I’d hung on to him, thinking he was the man for me. Then I remember his petty attack on Landon last night, and that unwanted kiss. It makes me so angry that I wish I never had to see him again.

  He’d never been the man for me. Maybe if he’d been the man I needed him to be from the start, I’d never have met Landon. If he hadn’t rejected me when I told him I loved him, maybe we’d still be together, maybe I’d be happy, satisfied that I had everything I wanted.

  The picture is as lackluster as is usual with all my attempts to imagine my life without Landon. It’s as if he has defined what happine
ss is for me, what satisfaction is, and yet…

  I hear Jack’s voice clearly, inside my head. Are you happy?

  Am I?

  I allow myself to concentrate on the fact that Landon is waiting for me, taking pleasure from the thought. At the airport, an unfamiliar driver picks me up for the journey to the Gold Dust.

  My phone buzzes just as the car starts to move. It’s Landon.

  “Tell me you’ve arrived.”

  “I have.”

  “I can’t wait to see you.”

  My belly contracts. I know what he means. When I think of being in the same space with him, touching him, every other thought disappears.

  “Me neither.”

  Soon we’re at the Gold Dust, and as we approach I realize my error in thinking the hotel had been close to completion the last time I was here. In just a month, so much more has been done. A fountain is spouting near the entrance, the sound of the water muted and almost hypnotic. Blooming shrubs line the path to the main doors, where two uniformed doormen are stationed even though the doors slide open mechanically as soon as I approach.

  Inside, the lobby seems to be gleaming, with shiny walls and floor, beautiful furniture, plants, and creative light fixtures. I’m barely inside before a familiar face approaches me. Tony, Landon’s assistant.

  “Miss Foster, welcome to the Gold Dust. I trust you enjoyed your flight.”

  “Yes, I did.” I’m a little disappointed. As if a part of me had been expecting Landon to be waiting for me instead of his assistant. I smile at Tony as a bellboy wheels my luggage in from the trunk of the car. “It was smooth. How are the preparations?”

  “Fine,” he grins. “Actually, it’s kind of crazy,” he continues with a small laugh. “But that’s okay. If there’s anything else you need…? Mr. Devin will be here any moment to take you to your suite, but anything else, let me know.”

  I shake my head. He looks like he has a lot on his plate. “I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me.”

  He smiles. “Then I wouldn’t be doing my job.”

  I see Claude approaching us. The Frenchman breaks into a broad grin. “Welcome back, Miss Foster!” His accent is a delight as always.

  “Everything looks lovely,” I tell him as Tony takes his leave, “How is it going?”

  Claude gives an exaggerated shrug. “What can I say? It is a delight to see your lovely face.”

  He starts to lead me towards the elevators and I follow him, looking around. “I’m sure things are hectic.”

  “Insane,” he agrees with a nod. “But Mr. Court is here, so he solves problems as soon as they occur. He has instructed that I attend to your every need, so let me know if there’s anything you require.”

  “Nothing at the moment.”

  He nods. The elevator opens directly into one of the penthouse suites. Claude stays to give directions to the bell boy while I go to the balcony to admire the view.

  “Would you like lunch sent up?” Claude is hovering.

  “No,” I already ate something light on the plane. “Don’t worry about me, I’m sure you have a lot to do.”

  He nods and leaves me. I fetch myself a glass of juice from the kitchen in the suite, when I return to the balcony, my phone is ringing. It’s Landon again.

  “Are you settled in?”

  “Yes,” I smile. “The hotel is beautiful, Landon.”

  He sighs. “Thank you.”

  “Where are you?” I ask.

  “Downstairs,” he pauses. “Do you have everything you need?”

  “Yes!” I laugh. “Everybody keeps asking me that.”

  I hear him breathe. “I want to see you,” he says. “I have the press conference in about half an hour. After that, I’m coming to you.”

  “Are you sure you have the time,” I ask, even though I want nothing more than to see him.

  “I’ll make it,” he says determinedly. “I’m so fucking hot for you.”

  I pull in a breath, instantly responding to his desire. He’s not done, “Just so you know, I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’ll feel it for days.”

  My body clenches in arousal. “You have a hotel to open.” I tease, breathless, “and homeless people to raise money for. Are you sure you should be thinking about sex at a time like this?”

  “Can you blame me?” He laughs. “I have a hard-on just from the knowledge that you’re here, and it’s not going anywhere until you take me inside your hot, delicious pussy.”

  A small moan escapes my lips. I love it when he talks like that, about the things he plans to do to me. “You’re making me so hot.”

  “Stay that way. I’ll be with you as soon as I can manage it.”

  When our conversation is over. I go to the main bedroom in the suite. My things have been unpacked in the walk-in closet, beside Landon’s clothes. In the bathroom, his brands of toiletries are placed alongside mine. I freshen up, loving the feeling that our lives are intersected, that we’re a real couple.

  Back in the living room, I switch on the TV and flip through the channels. I doze off while listening to the local news, then wake up when I hear Landon’s voice.

  I see his face on the TV. He’s answering a question, his self-assurance and confidence, coupled with his fierce masculine beauty, hypnotic to watch.

  Most of the questions are expected. How does it feel to add a new hotel to your brand? etc. etc.? Landon replies them, inserting a joke here and there, deftly putting everyone at ease.

  “How are you dealing with the rumors about your unlawful acquisition of property?”

  The question is followed by silence, I see Landon pause, his eyes measuring the reporter who asked, an older woman, nondescript in a brown suit.

  He smiles easily before he starts to reply. The smile assures me, and I suspect most of the people in the room with him that he has nothing to worry about, and neither do they. “I should clarify that the rumors are not about the unlawful acquisition of property. They are merely speculation, driven by gossip, about the reasons why people feel confident enough to entrust their properties to the Swanson Court brand. If you take a look at the Gold Dust today Miss…

  “Hader.”

  “Miss Hader.” he pauses, “compared to the Gold Dust of say, two years ago, the reason should be obvious.”

  More questions follow after that. I remember the article I read, what had it talked about? Use of coercion. Landon told me about having difficulty in purchasing a property in Europe. He’d spent an afternoon convincing the seller, who’d suddenly changed her mind about selling to him. Why? Could it have been the rumors? Who would hate him enough to spread such stories?

  My mind goes to Evans Sinclair. His board had made him sell his hotel to Landon, and apparently he thought that was a good reason to hate him. Could he be the one feeding the rumors?

  My eyes go back to Landon on the screen, watching his calm demeanor. How far would he go if he really wanted something? Far enough to stretch the boundaries of the law? Did ‘convincing’ mean the same thing to him as it did to other people? Would he put them in a position where they couldn’t, or didn’t want to say no like he had done with me?

  I shake my head. Landon isn’t a bully. He was the kind of man who identified opportunities and followed them. He showed people the advantages of working with him, rather than bend them forcefully to his will.

  At that moment, he walks into the suite. It’s strange, seeing him on TV and in the room at the same time. He’s looking at something on his phone, a frown on his face. He looks up at me, an indecipherable expression on his face.

  “Hey.” I smile at him.

  He shoves the phone into his pocket and looks at the TV screen. “I hate press conferences,” he says, shaking his head.

  “You handled that one well enough.”

  “I had to.”

  “I read about the rumors,” I tell him, ashamed now that I had forgotten, and instead chose to concentrate on the picture of him with Ava. “Is it a problem?”


  “Not really.” He shrugs. “I know who’s behind them, and he’s bound by contract not to slander me directly. So he’s planting the gossip with the help of his social circle. They have gotten out of hand, but they only damage public perception. The banks and investors don’t care. Most business people would rather cut off their ears than stop doing business with me.”

  His confidence reassures me. He shrugs off his jacket and tosses it on one of the chairs. Then, instead of joining me on the couch, he goes over to the glass walls, loosening his tie as he walks. He looks out at the spectacular view, which stretches from the balcony outside, to the bay and the horizon beyond. It’s majestic, but nowhere near as perfect as him.

  I get up to join him, drawn to him as if by a magnet. He turns to me, his hand rising to linger on my check.

  “Are you worried?” I ask.

  “No.” He shakes his head. “Have you had anything to eat?”

  “I’m not hungry,” I whisper, leaning into his hand, “Not for food anyway.”

  He sighs, his eyes sliding away from mine. Is he keeping something from me? My fears rear their ugly heads again but disappear when he takes my face between his hands and rests his forehead on mine. The gesture is unexpectedly tender, and I close my eyes.

  I love you.

  As if he heard the thought in my mind, he draws in a breath and releases my face, pulling off his tie and tossing it in the direction of the couch. Then, he reaches for me, one hand curving around the back of my neck to pull me in for a kiss. It’s a soft one. Light and sweet, making my body quiver as his tongue gently tastes my lips.

  I sigh, and he leans back to study me for a moment. Frowning, I reach for him, placing my hands on his chest and feeling his warm hard body beneath. I’ve missed him, his body, his touch… it has been two long days after all.

  “You said something about fucking me so hard I would feel it for days.”

  He tilts his head slightly, his eyes still on mine. “Yes, I remember.”

  I frown, wondering what he’s waiting for. I trail my hand down his chest, over the hard board of his stomach, and down the front of his pants, feeling his erection, a hard thick pressure against my palm. I drop a kiss on his still clothed chest. “I’m so ready,” I whisper.