Filthy Beautiful Love, Page 2

  I gather up my belongings, my purse, sunglasses and the Euros I changed over before we left the airport, and follow the group to the elevator. This should be interesting.

  Chapter Two

  Sophie

  The sidewalk café is beautiful and understated. Black wrought iron tables and chairs with fluffy wine-colored cushions, and ivy growing along a little trellis that separates the street from the sidewalk café complete the space. It’s sunny and clear with blue skies overhead, but not too warm, and I find it hard to hold onto my sour mood.

  Colton suggests a white wine from a local vineyard and when it arrives, I’ve never tasted anything quite so light, crisp and refreshing. His impeccable taste is just one more thing that’s easy to love about him. But I can’t go there. Won’t. My body has already betrayed me by springing to life when he’s near, like when he helped me into my chair and his hand brushed against my lower back. It left my skin tingling. And when he slid out the chair across from me, his tall, commanding presence caused a little flutter in my chest. I need to keep myself in check.

  His eyes roam over my exposed skin–my bare shoulders peeking from the tank top–and my chest and neck flush with heat.

  I’m glad our siblings are picking up the slack when it comes to making conversation, because Colton and I remain completely silent. Small talk doesn’t seem to fit my mood and I’d have no idea what to say regardless. They chatter away without a care in the world while Colton and I exchange serious looks.

  "So how long are you guys here?" Becca asks.

  "Depends," Pace says.

  "On?" I challenge. As far as I’m concerned, Colton has made his point, showing up here in some masculine display to claim his property. He can piss off now, thank you very much.

  Colton’s sad eyes slide over to mine. "I want a chance," he says, his voice dark.

  A chance to explain, or a chance with me? I’m thankful for the large wraparound sunglasses that shield my eyes from his.

  "Isn’t that what she gave you all those weeks in LA?" Becca asks, coming to my rescue.

  Thank you, God. The sane and feisty sister I know and love is back. I look over at Becca, communicating my gratitude without needing to speak.

  Colton watches the interaction happening between me and Becca, no doubt wondering what I’ve told her about my time in Los Angeles. I hope he knows me well enough to know I’d never divulge our secret.

  "I fucked up. It was wrong not to tell you…" Colton’s voice is thick with emotion, unlike I’ve ever heard him before.

  "Stella is a mega-beast who…" Pace starts.

  Colton holds up one hand, silencing his brother. "No, Pace. This is my mess. I will fix it."

  I have no idea why, but the sudden urge to ease his pain and anguish flares up inside me. "I’m here aren’t I?" I say, meeting Colton’s eyes. Of course, I’m not brave enough to remove the cover of my sunglasses, but still.

  His sad look dissipates ever so slightly.

  An hour later, we’re on our second bottle of wine before the waitress even thinks to bring the lunch menu. I realize that Colton’s suggestion of grabbing a quick bite to eat is quickly turning into an all afternoon affair. The pace of this country's meal times are nothing like the US.

  "Let’s order some lunch, shall we?" Pace, asks, handing me a menu printed entirely in Italian.

  Our food is finally delivered, and while we eat Becca opens up about her treatment. I can’t help but notice Colton leans forward on his elbows to absorb every word. He knows the hefty price tag for the treatment was made possible by his generous winning bid. And maybe it’s the charitable side to him, but I can see in his reverent expression that something inside of him feels proud to have helped.

  When Becca probes Colton about his work, he makes some offhand remark about investment banking and then launches into a detailed discussion about his charity foundation. They’re close to fulfilling their mission in Africa. The new school he’s built will have their grand opening soon.

  Becca is in awe listening to him – clearly he’s a great catch who just got even better in her eyes.

  "Sophie’s work is missed. She was a big help those weeks spent getting Kylie caught up." He reaches for my hand and I move it under the table.

  Though the conversation buzzes around me, I can barely keep up. My head is filled with questions about Colton’s marriage to a woman he admittedly doesn’t love. Why did he marry her? Where has she been while I’ve been sleeping in their bed? My entire relationship with him now feels tainted.

  Despite our precarious start to things, I’d started to believe that he’d been brought into my life for a reason. Sent to me like a guardian angel to heal Becca and awaken me sexually. I’d spent two months living with him, growing close, falling for him.

  I wonder now more than ever about why he never slept with me. Was it because he didn’t want to be unfaithful to his wife?

  "Sophie?" Colton’s voice cuts through the one in my head. "More wine?"

  I shake my head. "I’d rather just get going back to the hotel."

  He checks his watch and frowns. "Okay. That should be all right."

  We finish our lunch of insalata, warm bread, white wine and several bottles of sparkling water. After Colton pays for the meal, Pace and Becca rise from the table, looking slightly tipsy and eager to set off on their exploration.

  Colton and I walk side by side in silence all the way back to the hotel. But there are so many new sights, sounds and smells to take in, that I hardly notice the stiff uncomfortable silence that’s settled between us. Just navigating the uneven cobblestone streets in my strappy sandals takes extra concentration.

  When we reach the hotel, Colt opens the door and ushers me through, his warm palm once again settling against my spine and leaving a rush of tingles in its wake.

  A young man dressed in a hotel uniform stops us in the lobby.

  "A new key for you, Miss." His Italian accent caresses the words, making them sound much sexier than they are.

  "I have a key." I hold it up.

  "Yes, but for your new suite. Floor seventeen." He folds the key card in my hand while simultaneously removing the old one.

  I recall Colton stopping to talk in hushed voices with the concierge before we left the hotel. Is this his doing?

  He raises an eyebrow and shrugs. "I just wanted you to be comfortable."

  I bite my tongue to avoid pointing out that I’d been more comfortable before he appeared and started interfering, but deep down inside, I know he’s just trying to be nice, as annoying as it might be. He can’t win me back with thoughtful gestures and sweet remarks. Call me crazy, but I have a rule about dating man who are married: I don’t.

  "You shouldn’t have," I bite out and turn for the elevator, punching the button repeatedly with my thumb. I notice Colton waiting beside me and I give him a pointed stare. "I guess you can wait in the lobby for Becca and Pace’s sightseeing date to end."

  "You promised me we could talk," he says, his tone making clear his displeasure.

  Yes, but that was before the wine and the possessive stares he treated me to all during lunch. I don’t trust myself alone in a room with him right now. "I don’t think being alone in a hotel room with a married man is proper."

  He releases a low growl of frustration just as the elevator doors open and drags me inside.

  Warning bells are going off inside my head. I’m about to be alone with a man who still holds power over my heart despite his unavailable relationship status.

  Be strong, Sophie.

  Colton

  Pinning Sophie to the wall of the elevator, my hands clench into fists above her head. It’s taking every ounce of self-control I have not to push my hips into hers and claim her mouth. I know I’ve lost the right, but my body refuses to understand that.

  I can see her pulse thrumming in her neck as I bend down near her ear. "Don’t push me right now. My emotions are all over the fucking place – something very new for me, I can
assure you."

  She shoves both hands against my chest, pushing me back several paces. "Oh, your emotions are all over the place? Try putting yourself in my shoes." Her voice rises frantically. "I was buck-naked in your goddamn pool trying to seduce you when your wife showed up." The word wife is spat from her mouth like a sour bomb.

  "You ran out on me before I had the chance to explain. You wouldn’t answer my calls and now I’ve flown six thousand miles just to set the record straight with you." I take a deep breath and straighten my posture. Arguing with her won’t get me anywhere. Of course she has a right to be mad. "Listen, Soph. I needed to see you. I'm coming upstairs to talk to you."

  After an intense standoff her gaze falls to the floor as she realizes further negotiation will be pointless. "What floor am I on?"

  "Top floor," I answer. The best suite they have. Obviously.

  Realizing we’re just standing in the stationary elevator that hasn’t yet moved from the ground level, she gingerly reaches out and presses the button. My mouth lifts up in a smile. Progress.

  Per my instructions, Sophie and Becca’s luggage has been moved into the suite. There’s a moderately sized living room, two separate bedrooms, each with its own washroom and a tiny balcony overlooking the courtyard fountain. She takes a minute to navigate the rooms, lightly running her fingers along a gilded antique credenza and bending at the waist to smell the fresh arrangement of white blossoms on the coffee table.

  I take every second I can to just drink her in. Even though it’s only been three days since I’ve seen her, held her in my arms, slept with her warm body next to me, it feels like much longer. The privilege to touch her has been ripped away, and my body riots in silent agony, my heart aching and my fists clenching uselessly at my sides. I fucking hate this.

  We need to talk like civilized adults, but fuck if I know how to start.

  "Soph…" I begin.

  "Colt…" She says at the same time.

  We share an awkward smile.

  "Come sit down." I gesture to the sofa – neutral territory and she obeys, slipping off her sandals and curling her legs underneath her as she sinks into the cushion farthest away from me.

  "Ask me anything you want to know. No more secrets," I promise.

  Bouncing one knee up and down, she twists the ring on her thumb. "How long have you been married?"

  I release a heavy sigh and push my fingers into my hair. Much longer than I want to admit.

  "If you try to hide things…if you’re going to be evasive…" She swallows.

  "Anything you want to know. Even if the truth is hard to hear," I confirm. As much as I’d like to protect her from the ugly truth, I won’t. Not if that’s not what she wants. "I’ve been married for four years. For the past two we haven’t lived in the same state."

  "Why was she at your house that day?"

  "Who the fuck knows with her. We've been trying to settle our divorce for a long time. But neither of us can seem to agree on anything."

  She licks her lips, thinking over this information. "Is she the reason you went to New York?"

  "Yes, Stella lives in New York with her boyfriend. I went there to try and talk to her about the terms of our divorce in person. That didn't work."

  Her forehead creases. "She has a boyfriend?"

  I nod. "Our former gardener. I found out they started fucking after we got married."

  Her mouth tugs down in a frown. "Oh."

  "It turns out that she never loved me, and even though my family warned me about her motives, I couldn’t see it. I wanted a woman in my life, and I don’t know..." I rub my temples absently. "Maybe it had to do with losing my mother at such a young age… But I liked the company, the companionship of someone by my side. Someone warm and loving to share my life with." I sound like a complete pussy, but that was how the twenty-four year old me saw the world.

  And Stella was the perfect trophy wife, accompanying me to work functions, dressing in the latest fashions and always a happy smile on her lips. Too bad it had all been fake.

  "What happened?" Sophie asks, her tone softening.

  "Things changed as soon as we got engaged. I thought it was just stress over planning the wedding–she wanted it to be the affair of the decade, something the Los Angeles elite would be buzzing about for years to come–she put way too much pressure on herself planning it. I didn’t see at the time that it was all for show. It was more about the dress and the party and French champagne than it was about me and her."

  Sophie chews on her lip, listening intently. I have no fucking clue why I’m unloading all this…but something tells me if I have any hope at salvaging things between us, I need to bare my soul.

  I clear my throat and continue. "And even though my brothers tried to talk me out of it, I had convinced myself that it was all going to be fine. I wasn’t going to call off my wedding simply because my fiancé was turning into a bridezilla. I figured it would all settle down after the wedding day."

  "But it didn’t?" Sophie asks softly.

  "No. She was distant, and cold. Not at all like the smiling, charming girl I fell for in the first place. Once the rock was on her finger and the ink on the marriage license was dry, she turned into a completely different person. The one I suspected she’d actually been all along. She’d played me. Married me for my money and I’d fallen for it like a lovesick fool."

  "I’m sorry, Colt…" she starts.

  "No, don’t." She shouldn’t be the one apologizing to me. The headache I’d felt coming on earlier was full-on throbbing in my temples. I continued, "After the game Stella pulled on me, it made it hard to even think about trusting another woman. Being separated for the past two years, I tried dating causally. I didn’t want to, but my brothers occasionally set me up with a woman. Behind every sweet smile and every flirty look was someone only interested in my bank roll and the lifestyle I could provide. I wanted a genuine connection, not a trophy wife. But I realized with my status and my wealth, real love wasn’t going to be something easy to find."

  "Then why go to that auction?" Her confusion is etched between her eyebrows as she waits for me to answer.

  "To put it bluntly?" I smirk.

  She nods for me to go ahead.

  "A man has his limits. The pent up sexual frustration of being celibate for two years…I was horny as fuck and needed to get laid."

  Her mouth twitches in a smile.

  "That’s the complete truth. I knew exactly what I was paying for and that there’d be no chance of feelings or false promises."

  "Why not just hire an escort?"

  I shrug. The thought had crossed my mind a few times. "I guess I’m not the kind of guy to hire an escort. I wanted something more discreet. I couldn’t have that information getting leaked. CEOs who get caught hiring prostitutes usually end up on the evening news."

  She nodded in silent understanding.

  "With the auction, I liked the medical testing, non-disclosure agreements and confidentiality promised to me. Plus the companionship angle we covered before."

  "But you never…we never…" She pauses.

  "I never fucked you," I finish for her.

  She lifts her chin in indignation. "Why not? Is it because you would have felt like you were cheating on her?" she asks, her big blue eyes locked onto mine.

  I reach for her hand, pulling it into my lap, unable to resist the physical warmth it provides. "No. It’s because I would have felt like I was cheating on you. You deserved more and I knew it."

  Her bottom lip trembles and the urge to suck it into my mouth flares up inside me.

  Pulling her hand away, Sophie rises to her feet. "You can’t say things like that." There’s anger in her eyes and I’m left speechless. I can’t even begin to imagine all the thoughts and emotions running through her head. So I won’t try. She moves to the window and looks out solemnly.

  Rising to my feet, I stand behind her, resisting the urge to pull her close. "I can’t lose you," I whisper. "Not when I feel li
ke my life is finally falling into place. You were the missing piece. You were the cheese to my macaroni." I smile lightly, hoping she remembers.

  She turns to face me. Her soft gaze is pinned on mine and I can tell we’re both remembering the time we spent together. It just felt right. "I can’t do this, Colton. I was developing real feelings for you."

  Was? I know I’m falling for her, terrifying as it fucking is. I shake the thought away, once again trying to convince myself that my interest in her is only about seeing the arrangement through.

  "You’re married," she reminds me.

  Tramping down my emotions, I swallow. "Only legally. And if I can just get her to agree to the terms, I’ll sign off on the divorce…"

  "Wait. You’re the one holding up the divorce?" Anger flashes in Sophie’s normally calm blue eyes. The change in her is unmistakable. It’s like I’ve inadvertently tripped some wire and a bomb is about to detonate. I take a hesitant step back.

  "Yes."

  "But…I don’t understand…"

  Fuck. How do I explain this without further upsetting her?

  "If I divorce her, she wins. She’ll take half of everything, plus I’ll be ordered to pay her spousal support." It’s not about the money – well, I guess it is, because splitting up my millions will put my investment into the Africa project at risk. It means I’ll have fallen for her game, hook, line and sinker. Stella one, Colt zero. But worse than that, the funding for the school, hospital and all the projects I had planned would be stopped dead in their tracks as my money is tied up in a legal battle. I won’t let my personal fuckup be the cause of so much destruction. I’m funneling every bit of money I have into this charity and I won’t sacrifice a single dollar to keep Stella in Manolo Blahniks while children go hungry. Fuck no.

  "You…" Her eyes widen and then slam closed. "You didn’t have a pre-nup, and now your male pride is too damn stubborn to take the hit financially." She blinks up at me and something twists deep inside my gut.