Page 17 of Billionaire's Sins
"Why are you here, Edward?"
7
Edward
That’s the question I’m asking myself. I shouldn’t be here. What the hell am I doing here? I’d walked away from her the last time, determined to stay away from her. Then I’d stayed on after officiating the wedding, and seen her dance.
She’d moved her hips, her waist, bowed her body so gracefully to the music, allowed the notes to take over, had drawn the rhythm into her body and embodied the essence of the music. Hot, passionate, yet deep and soul-stirring. That’s her. When she dances, she transcends the physical. She embodies the melody, becomes one with the tune…the chords…the notes… To see her dance is as much of a spiritual experience as when I pray to Him above. I clench my fists at my sides.
How can I do this? How can I compare what I have with my Savior to how I felt when I watched her? Why did I have to follow her from the performance and into her hotel room?
"How did you get in?" she whispers.
"The door," I jerk my chin toward the entrance to the room. "It hadn’t closed completely."
And I had walked in and invaded her privacy. Why had I thought I could simply barge in here unannounced? More to the point, what had I been thinking anyway? Why had I thought it was okay to push the door open and step in? What's wrong with me? Why is it that when I see her, I seem to lose my head completely?
I squeeze my eyes closed, turn to leave, when she grabs my hand. Sensations vibrate out from the point of contact. I glance down at where her fingers are curled around my wrist.
I glance up at her and she releases me. "Sorry," she mutters, "I… I don’t want you to leave."
And I don’t want to go, and that is the problem. But I don’t say that aloud.
Instead, I stare past her at the open door of the shower cubicle, "Why don’t you finish your shower? I’ll wait out here."
"You sure?" she asks.
I frown at her and she reddens.
"I didn’t mean it that way. I mean, I do want you to wait. It’s not that I wanted you to join me or anything. I mean—" She slaps her hand to her forehead. "Oh, hell, forget what I said. I mean—"
"I know what you mean." I can’t stop the smile that quirks my lips. "Why don’t you go on?" I jerk my chin toward the shower. "I’ll be right outside."
I pivot, then step out and pull the door closed behind me.
I walk over to the window, pull back the curtains, and glance down at the road below. Just two streets up, the tourists and shoppers crowd Oxford Circus. You'd think there would be lots of traffic near the most exclusive hotel in London, but surprisingly, down here there are no vehicles, and almost no pedestrian traffic. Except for what seems to be a homeless man who sits on the sidewalk, almost right below the window. He seems to be holding up a sign as well…the letters of which are hidden from my line of sight. Hmm, given this is one of the most exclusive hotels in the city, it’s strange the hotel allows him to stay there. Not to mention, it can’t be a lucrative spot for him without foot traffic.
The sound of the shower running reaches me. I turn toward it, and of course, my imagination goes straight to her under the water, without clothes, the droplets running down her breasts, her stomach, to the place between her thighs. I shake my head, grab the rosary out of my pocket, sink to my knees and cross myself. Then I begin to pray.
I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of Heaven and earth and in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord...
I repeat the prayer, until all thoughts exit my head and my mind stills. My heart beat slows down, my muscles relax, and my breathing stabilizes.
I stay there until I hear the sound of her footsteps. Then I open my eyes, and rise to my feet.
She walks toward me, wearing a white dress, her auburn hair freshly washed and flowing down her back. Light pours out of the bathroom, turning the fabric translucent, creating a halo around her. I take in the curves of her body. The highlights in her hair that glisten and sparkle as she moves.
She resembles an otherworldly vision, an angel who’s arrived on earth to tease me, to test me…to reveal the error of my ways. She pauses in front of me, tips her chin up.
"Hello," she says softly, "hope I didn’t keep you waiting."
You can keep me waiting forever, for that’s the way it’s going to be between us. I can’t touch you, can’t hold you, can’t allow myself to think of you, but what I can give you is "friendship."I roll the word around my tongue, "You wanted us to be friends. I accept that."
"You do?" She frowns. "I thought you said we could never be friends."
"What I meant was that we could never bejustfriends."
She scowls, folds her arms about her waist. "Then what—?"
