More Than Anything Read online

  So, I’d left, and when she came home after the party, clutching her award and flushed with the pleasure of victory, I’d said the words I still regretted whenever I thought of them.

  I can’t do this anymore.

  How many times had I kicked myself mentally for saying it? At that moment, I’d expected a different outcome, another promise that there would be a change, more reassurance that the rumors were just that—rumors. What I didn’t expect was the small nod, the three damning words.

  Whatever you want.

  Sometimes, I wondered how different things would be if I’d said something else…if I’d whisked her away for a holiday and bought out all her contracts, but I hadn’t. Instead, I’d walked past her, over the shattered pieces of our marriage, and come back to the life I knew.

  And she had gone back to hers.

  Thirteen

  Allie

  I listened to the faint sounds as Braden moved around in the adjoining bedroom. I closed my eyes but was unable to sleep—how could I when he was only a few feet away? It was embarrassing that just being in the same house with him could reduce me to this.

  A quivering mess.

  Standing at the top of the stairs, I’d been so relieved that so far below me, he couldn’t see that I was shaking, couldn’t hear the quaver in my voice or feel the need that pierced me when I looked at him. It had been so long, and all I wanted was for him to come to me, take me in his arms, tell me the last two years had never happened.

  It was crazy—crazy and stupid to forget how much he’d hurt me when he walked away.

  I can’t do this anymore.

  Those words, like a guillotine that severed my heart from my body and sent it tumbling to the ground to be crushed under merciless feet.

  I should have let him go back into the night, back to wherever he’d come from. I shouldn’t have asked him to stay. Now, even the semblance of peace was gone, and I was a wreck.

  I can’t do this anymore.

  I remembered the pain, the panic, the realization that the fears that had marred my enjoyment of award season that year and the sinking feeling that the worry of my marriage ending had finally come to fruition.

  I shared the blame. I’d been so busy that year after our marriage, going from one location to the next. My career was in the early stages, and pulling out of prior commitments would have been suicide. Braden had been unhappy, but he never insisted I change anything, never stood in my way.

  So, I ignored his unhappiness and mine. I worked so hard that in a year of marriage we didn’t spend more than a couple of weeks together, most of which I spent in exhausted sleep, even when he’d traveled halfway across the world to see me.

  In the end, he couldn’t take it anymore. I’d known, the day of the Oscars, that it was the end. Instinct told me I would lose him, and the fear turned to anger then determination to show him I had a life without him.

  Now, two years later, it made no sense to me, how I’d deliberately ignored him that night, how I’d stubbornly refused to listen to the voice inside that told me I was pushing him away forever.

  My pride had won, and by the end of the night, I’d lost him.

  “I can’t take it anymore, Allie.” Then he was gone, leaving me in an empty house with a cold naked Oscar for company.

  It had been pure agony. The headlines had been brutal.

  Wrong timing!

  Perfect match, imperfect timing!

  Quickie wedding, quicker separation!

  They were hilarious, but they hurt. They really really hurt.

  Within a few weeks, he was photographed with another woman, and my team finally prevailed on me to make the announcement that we were separated. The Guylies rejoiced while I cried myself to sleep, and in the months that followed, I buried myself in my career. I worked without a break for three straight years, ignoring the tabloids, the rumors, the stories…until I ended up in the hospital.

  I wiped my eyes and burrowed under the covers, hating the memories and how they made me feel. I spent the rest of the night trapped in my thoughts, and it wasn’t until the darkness outside the window started to turn gray that I finally fell asleep.

  Fourteen

  Braden

  I was up early, mainly because I hadn’t slept at all. The thought of Allie in my bed wasn’t particularly conducive to a good night’s rest.

  After changing into workout clothes, I went to the fully equipped gym and spent an hour working out until I had exhausted every muscle group in my body. As I sat on the bench, Sam appeared with a glass of water on a tiny tray.

  I took the water and downed it. Then I got up and walked over to one of the long glass windows. Outside, it was snowing furiously. I frowned and turned back to Sam, who was waiting for me to say something.

  “I should have been informed that she was here,” I said quietly.

  The older man nodded. “You would have been.”

  “I don’t mean after she’d left. I mean I should have been told as soon as she started making arrangements to come here.”

  He stood straighter, which shouldn’t have been possible as he was already ramrod straight. “I assumed it was still her home, as I haven’t been informed otherwise. Good morning, sir.”

  I watched him walk away. Even Sam, old as he was, was wrapped around her little finger. My staff was supposed to be loyal to me, not to the woman who’d broken my heart.

  Well, she could have them, and the house too, whenever she decided.

  I went to take a shower then walked downstairs, where Colleen was setting up dishes in the breakfast room. There were strings of holly lining the edges of the ceiling and faint Christmas music sounded from the hidden speakers. I’d noticed the Christmas tree in the living room, the mistletoe and holly on the front door, probably all Allie’s doing.

  “Good morning, Mr. Rhodes,” Colleen said cheerily.

  “Good morning,” I grunted in reply. In all the years she and her husband had worked for me, this was the first time I’d had any reason to be pissed at them, and while I couldn’t very well lose them over their fondness for Allie, I wasn’t going to act as if I wasn’t annoyed.

  She went back into the kitchen and returned with a tray and sweet-smelling scones, then coffee. I looked at the spread on the table: Allie’s favorite breakfasts, mine, and realized Colleen knew precisely what she was doing.

  I heard a noise behind me and turned to see Allie walking into the room. She was still wearing the robe from last night, and it fell open to reveal the creamy silk cami and shorts she had on underneath.

  She yawned then saw me and frowned. “I thought you were leaving first thing in the morning,” she sniped.

  One minute my body was hardening at the sight of her beautiful body and her fresh face washed clean of makeup, the next I was so pissed I wanted to walk as far away as possible—or kiss her until we were both out of breath.

  “Am I allowed to have breakfast at least?”

  “Suit yourself,” she fired back.

  “The weather channel is predicting a snowstorm,” Colleen observed quietly.

  I glared at her, but she didn’t even flinch.

  “I think I’ll have breakfast in my room,” Allie declared.

  “My room,” I corrected.

  She gave me a withering look. “Whatever.”

  “I’ll make you a tray,” Colleen said indulgently as Allie flounced away.

  I gritted my teeth but went to the table and sat, pouring myself a coffee before making up a plate.

  Colleen hovered.

  “You obviously want to say something,” I snapped, “and I hope it’s an apology.”

  She pursed her lips. “I’m hoping you might take it easy on her.”

  “Why?” I demanded, “She…” I stopped. She broke my heart was what I’d been about to say. My cell rang, saving me from pouring my heart out to my housekeeper. I grabbed it, almost relieved to hear from my mother.

  “Hello, darling.”

  “Mot
her.” I tried to smile and watched as Colleen started making up Allie’s tray. “How are you?”

  “Tired of my guests. I want them out of my house.”

  I laughed. Her sister and her husband were spending Christmas with her in the Park Avenue apartment she had lived in since she’d dragged my father back into the city from Westchester County, where they’d raised me. I didn’t blame her for her exhaustion with her guests. My mother’s twin, Corinne, was everything my mother was not: snobbish, humorless, and incapable of happiness.

  I listened as she laughed, pleased. She’d hadn’t quite recovered from losing my father, so it was a relief to hear her enjoying herself.

  “Have you spoken to Allison?” she asked.

  I frowned. “Were you a part of this?”

  “Of what?”

  She sounded like she had no idea what I meant, so I let it go. “She’s here, in my house. Was I supposed to speak to her about something?”

  “Oh…that makes sense. It’s the last place anybody would think of to look for her.”

  “Anybody who?” I asked, wondering why she needed a hiding place now after being in the spotlight for so long.

  “You know, the press—they were all in a frenzy after what happened.”

  “What happened?” I was immediately concerned, despite myself.

  “You don’t know?” My mother sighed dramatically. “She collapsed on live TV. She was in the hospital. Nobody told you? I thought you had a security team or something like that dedicated to her.”

  I did; as my wife, estranged or not, I couldn’t leave her security up to chance. “It’s managed by her agency. They don’t report to me. I’m not keeping tabs on her.”

  “No, you’re not.” She was quiet. “Anyway, be gentle with her, and give her my love, okay?”

  After the call ended, Colleen appeared again with a carafe of mixed fruit juice. She set it down just as I searched Allie’s name on my phone’s browser and the results threw up countless videos and gifs. I switched on the TV and connected my phone to view the first video on the large screen, and I winced when I saw Allie’s eye’s roll up as she fell face first onto the carpet.

  Another video showed a picture taken before she collapsed, with her fingers caressing Guy Fletcher’s face, then followed that with the clip of him running to her side after she fell, picking her up and cradling her in his arms.

  Allie Gilbert collapses after a tender moment with Guy Fletcher.

  I swallowed my jealousy.

  “Did you know?” I asked Colleen.

  “It was all over the entertainment news,” she said quietly. “It’s all they’ve been talking about.”

  I scowled, hating the surge of concern I felt. “She wouldn’t be so exhausted if she didn’t choose work over everything else.”

  “That seems to be a common theme around here,” Colleen said, straight-faced.

  “What did you say?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing.”

  I switched the channels to one of the entertainment networks I hated, and as I ate, sure enough, report after report about Allie came on the screen: theories about why she collapsed, replays of her collapse, and speculation about where she was. I switched it off and rose. Of course, she couldn’t leave. The sort of scrutiny she would be exposed to if she so much as showed her face in public now…

  No, I’d leave as soon as the storm abated, let her enjoy her rest and solitude.

  Deep down, though, I didn’t want to leave. Seeing her so vulnerable in front of all those people—it brought back old feelings, old desires. I wanted to take care of her, and I knew I shouldn’t, because if there was one thing Allie had made clear, it was that she didn’t need me.

  I went upstairs to my private office, but I didn’t have any desire to work. Allie was on my mind.

  Be gentle with her.

  God how I wanted to be, in so many more ways than one. Gentle then rough, slow and then fast. I sighed as the sweet ache of arousal turned into a rigid hardness in my groin. The sooner I left and put her out of my mind again, the better.

  But first, my mother and Colleen were right: I needed to apologize.

  I went out to find her. I knocked on the door of my bedroom, feeling ridiculous, then after three knocks with no answer, I opened the door.

  She wasn’t there.

  For a moment, I panicked, sure she’d up and left without telling me. I saw her robe hanging on the hand-carved accent chair by the dresser and was ashamed of the flood of relief I felt.

  I went downstairs, started to go to the kitchen, but then I walked past and made my way to the indoor swimming pool.

  She was in the warmed pool, doing laps. It was how she expended excess energy and emotions. I still knew that about her. I still knew everything. Every piece of knowledge I’d ever discovered about her was a pearl I’d never allow myself to let go.

  I watched her swim, back and forth, her concentration unbroken until she was done. She climbed out of the water, a goddess in a dark blue two-piece, her hair wet and plastered to her back and water sluicing down her body.

  I stared, unable to look away.

  She walked a few steps then saw me and stopped. She had picked up a towel, and now, as if self-conscious, she wrapped it around herself.

  “What do you want?” Her voice was meant to be angry and dismissive, but I could hear the quaver beneath.

  “To apologize,” I said softly.

  Her breath hitched as her green eyes softened. “You didn’t know?”

  “My mother called,” I said. “She told me just now.”

  The softness in her eyes faded. “And now you feel sorry for me.” She frowned. “I don’t need your pity. I don’t need anything from you.”

  I closed the distance to where she was standing. “And yet, here you are.”

  Fifteen

  Allie

  Heat, warmth, desire—all the reactions to him standing so close. My fingers clutched the towel, and I tried to concentrate on how soft and fluffy it was instead of on the man standing right in front of me making me want nothing more than to take one step forward, into his arms.

  I lifted my eyes to his face, his perfect face. I knew how every plane and angle felt under my fingers. I knew the taste of his lips, their firmness, their softness, their skill at taking me to almost unbearable heights of pleasure. Steam rose from the pool, and inside me, desire burned, making my nipples harden.

  “I didn’t come here for you,” I whispered.

  His eyes lowered to my lips, and he expelled a soft breath. “Of course. Damn if I don’t know how little my presence or absence means to you.”

  You have no idea. I wished I could say the words, but to what end? He had moved on a long time ago, and once we faced the potential nightmare of our divorce proceedings, we would become strangers again, just like we had been before that magical night when we met.

  “I don’t pity you,” he continued, his voice gentle.

  “Then why do you care?”

  He shook his head. “I just…” His blue eyes held mine for a long moment. “I want you to get better. For now, I can’t leave, but I don’t want you worrying about me being a dick to you while I’m here.”

  “I’ve been a dick too,” I admitted.

  He chuckled then lifted his hand as if to smooth some of my hair out of my face. My breath hitched, and I waited, wanting that touch more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life, but he stopped. His hand hung in the air for a moment then he brought it down and thrust it in his pocket. He stepped back from me, and I almost followed him.

  “I’ll stay out of your way,” he muttered roughly before walking away.

  I waited till the door closed behind him before I pulled in a long breath. I was shaking as I walked over to one of the benches beside the pool and lowered myself.

  Was the privacy really worth this emotional upheaval? I was hot, aroused, and just a little more temptation away from throwing myself at Braden.

  And then
I’d have to deal with the utter heartbreak that would follow his abandonment all over again.

  It had already happened once before. It was another memory I tried to keep suppressed—his father’s funeral and the pain that came with it.

  I couldn’t let the same thing happen now, no matter how much I wanted him.

  Still shaking, I toweled my hair and put on a robe, going up to my room and hoping to God he would do as he promised and stay away from me.

  Sixteen

  Braden

  Why do you care?

  I heard the question again in my head as I walked away from her, needing her, aroused in a way only she could inspire without even so much as a touch.

  My body was straining, my fingers aching to touch her. I wanted nothing more than to crush my lips to hers.

  And yet, I was walking away.

  Why do you care?

  I shouldn’t have. I wished I didn’t, but I wasn’t blind to the fact that the way I’d felt about Allie, the way I still felt was something that happened once in a lifetime, and it wasn’t something that just went away.

  I locked myself in my office, tempted to make everyone else’s Christmas Eve as miserable as my own. I could call up my team, set up a conference, be the Grinch.

  I checked myself and instead read all the business news, studied financial forecasts, and tried to get Allie out of my mind.

  Why do you care?

  I chuckled bitterly.

  Because you’re in my blood, Allie. Forever and always. You’re a part of me.

  Even if I told her that, it wouldn’t matter to her, or it would only matter until she found another reason to work herself into exhaustion with as many movie projects as she could.

  I remained in the study all day and ate my dinner from a tray Colleen brought to me.

  I worked till close to midnight. When I finally went out into the hallway, the house was dark and silent. I went downstairs to the living room, where Christmas decorations twinkled in the tree. At the bar, I poured myself a scotch. After downing it, I took the whole bottle and started back toward my bedroom. If work hadn’t helped, maybe a drink would make me forget the woman whose presence was rendering me unable to concentrate on anything else.