Page 39 of The Temptation
“And I don’t need you taking care of me like I’m a fucking child!” I exploded. The words and broken emotions couldn’t be held in any longer. I’d never wanted Pierce to see me like this. He wasn’t supposed to see the imperfect me, the broken me. He couldn’t see the shattered, jagged edges that didn’t quite fit back together, but at least I could hide them in the daylight. This shit was supposed to be revealed only after he’d fallen in love with me. If he loved me, there was a chance he could love this ugly part too.
But now it was too late. I’d exploded like the petulant, troublesome child I really was, and there was no chance he could love the good, worthy parts of me, because he now knewthislurked underneath.
“I don’t think you’re a child. You look like someone who needs some help. And maybe I enjoy taking care of people.”
His words were so gentle and sweet, I wanted to weep. My arms tightened on my violin case, pressing it more into my chest until something creaked. I wasn’t sure if it was the case or my bones. My eyes burned with unshed tears, and I was afraid that if I tried to speak, sobs would burst from my throat.
Pierce murmured something in a low voice to the woman I assumed was his housekeeper as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. I could have sworn I heard something about cheese, but I was too deep in my misery to get excited.
“I’m sorry for my outburst. I didn’t mean it,” I mumbled the moment we were alone.
“You’re forgiven,” he replied as he guided me up the stairs and down a long hallway to a set of double doors. We stepped into the master bedroom, and it was like walking into someone’s apartment. There was a full sitting area with a large couch with the most comfortable-looking cushions I’d ever seen, along with an oversized chair that could fit two people and a matching footrest. Behind the furniture, bookshelves stretched over two walls. But these weren’t the snooty leather-bound law books I’d expected to find. No, these were actual novels. Fictional stories with colorful covers.
Beyond the quiet nook was a king-sized bed with an evergreen duvet and a mountain of pillows. A fire flickered in the fireplace in one corner while a selection of lamps glowed throughout the space, giving the room a cozy atmosphere.
“Wait here for a second.”
Pierce removed his arm and left me standing in the middle of the room as he darted through a door that was either the bathroom or the closet. When he returned less than a minute later, he was carrying a pair of soft, dark-blue pajamas.
“Would you like to take a hot bath? Will that help? You can borrow a set of pajamas. These would be more comfortable than what you’re wearing.”
Anything would be better than this stuffy, restrictive suit. A hot bath sounded heavenly, but I was afraid of melting away in that bath. I’d never be able to get back out once I got into it.
“The pajamas are enough. I’ll just splash some hot water on my face.”
Pierce nodded and led me into an enormous marble bathroom with a giant round tub and a shower with enough space and heads to accommodate at least two people comfortably. Pierce put the pajamas on the counter and retreated.
“I’ll be right outside if you need anything,” he murmured before slipping away. He didn’t close the door completely, leaving it open a tiny crack so he could hear me if I called out.
Without thinking, I glanced up and caught my reflection in the mirror. I was ghastly pale, and my blue eyes were blown wide. I seemed more phantom than human right now. And Pierce had seen me like this. Fuck, he’d stuck by me despite my messy appearance. Any sane person would have run for the hills.
As I stared at my reflection, I realized I was still clutching my violin like a security blanket. Pierce had asked to hold it only once—when I’d needed to remove my coat. He hadn’t attempted to take it from me again, as if he’d known it was the one thing helping me to hold myself together.
But I didn’t need it. I was safe. Pierce would always keep me safe. Even if he didn’t love me, he felt obligated toward me because I was Sawyer’s brother. It might not be the reason I wanted, but it was enough that I didn’t have to worry.
Loosening my hands and arms, I laid the violin case on the counter and changed out of my dark suit and into Pierce’s pajamas. I lifted the shirt, pressing the cloud-soft material to my face, and breathed in the clean scent. It was the same clean scent I’d smelled on him a thousand times. There wasn’t any of his cologne, but it was enough to make me think of Pierce.
Of course, the pajamas were ridiculously large on me. I was drowning in the shirt, and the waist of the pants had to be tightened and rolled to remain on my narrow hips, but I didn’t care. The fabric felt luxurious on my skin. I closed my eyes and imagined being wrapped up in Pierce’s arms.
I was feeling a little more pulled together after I splashed some water on my face. My violin in one hand, I stepped out of the bathroom, leaving my clothes in a pile on the black tile. It was obvious I was at least spending the night here. My suit was a problem for tomorrow. I was all out of fucks to give.
My feet stopped after I’d traveled a short distance to take in the many changes that had taken place in the short time I’d been in the bathroom. The lights were even dimmer now, but I could make out that a platter had been added to the table, holding a delicious assortment of cheeses, crackers, and fruit. All of it bite-sized. A folded blanket rested at the end of the couch, and it looked even softer than the pajamas I was wearing. And there was the sound of rain.
Tipping my head to the side, I turned, taking in the soothing noise. It was too crisp and clear to be happening outside. Pierce had turned on a recording of a soft rainstorm with a low, distant rumble of thunder, and it was now burbling out through hidden speakers around the room. How had he known that as much as I loved music, it would be too much right now? No matter how tired my brain was, it would inevitably attempt to analyze and criticize anything he would have selected to play. But rain? It was soothing white noise. Nothing to analyze or think about. It just was, and that made it perfect.
Pierce stepped out of the closet wearing a pair of dark-green lounge pants and a pale-gray long-sleeved cotton shirt. It was the most relaxed I’d seen him since he was in college. It was as if I were finally seeing beneath the suit he wore as protective armor every day. My brain had him sorted into two categories—wealthy, high-powered lawyer and sexy temptation. But like this, with his defenses lowered, he became more vulnerable and friend-shaped.
“Better?” he inquired, not yet taking a step toward me.
I nodded, and with my free hand I motioned at the table. “You got me cheese.” My voice wobbled, and I swallowed hard to keep from embarrassing myself further.
“Yeah, well, I was told by a very knowledgeable person that cheese is essential to life. You want to come have some?”
I didn’t bother to nod this time. I shuffled to the couch with him. With no prompting from me, Pierce sat with his back pressed against the corner and stretched out one leg along the cushions before extending his arms. No need to ask me twice. I put my violin case on the table and practically threw my body at the poor man. In the blink of an eye, I was lying on his chest, my ear resting over his heart, as he draped the soft moss-green blanket over us and pulled the table closer. All I had to do was sneak a hand out from under the blanket and snag a piece of cheese.
This was heaven. It was better than anything I could have come up with to help me heal from the past few days. The hollowness inside me disappeared as warmth and peace filled me up, rain in one ear and Pierce’s steady heartbeat in the other. He didn’t talk or ask questions. He would hand me a piece of cheese or fruit, then get a piece for himself, as if these were his original plans for the rest of the night. No one had ever made me feel so content.
When the cheese and fruit were half-gone, I felt clear-headed enough to speak.
