Page 199 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
When a creak sounds through my ears a few minutes later, I crank my head to the side. Hugo’s large frame is blocking the doorway. His arms are folded in front of his chest, and he has a pleading look in his eyes. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
When he nudges his head to the corridor, requesting privacy for our talk, I nod before shifting my focus back to Isabelle. She looks even more peaceful now that the tears on her face have dried.
After tracking my index finger across the cupids bow in her top lip, I meet with Hugo in the hallway as requested. He rubs at a kink in his neck as his anxious eyes float up from the ground. “I think Izzy needs to talk to someone about what she witnessed on the weekend.”
Even with a stabbing pain hitting my chest hard enough to knock me backward, I nod. Since I can’t be by Isabelle’s side to aid her through this, I agree that seeking professional assistance is the next best thing.
Relief washes over Hugo’s face from my approving gesture. “The visual of him hanging…” His shudder will send earthquake warnings across the continent. “It’s easily in the top five most horrific things I’ve witnessed, and you know that’s saying something. I saw a shitload of horrendous things during my time in the Air Force.”
I nod again. “I’ll organize an emergency appointment tomorrow morning.”
Like my mood could sour any more, Hugo injects a second dose of annoyance. “Ah… unless her appointment is for tomorrow, it’ll have to wait until we get back.”
I still can’t believe Regan convinced me that Isabelle going away with Brandon for a long weekend was a good idea. The only reprieve I have is that Hugo agreed to stand alongside Isabelle the entire time. His aversion to Brandon will assure Brandon will never get Isabelle alone. Hugo doesn’t dislike many things. Brandon James is not on that list.
“I’ll see if Avery can squeeze Isabelle in tomorrow. If not, I’ll organize a telephone conference.”
Hugo nods as the apprehension in his eyes clears.
“I’ll also email you the information for the hotel you’re staying at this weekend. Catherine organized side-by-side suites at the Wiltshire for you and Isabelle. The gala is being held in the ballroom of a hotel one block over, but they were fully booked.”
As a broad grin stretches across his face, Hugo waggles his brows.
I jerk my chin to Isabelle’s temporary abode. “I’m going to stay with her for a couple of hours.”
Hugo nods. “No worries. Since you’re here, I’ll head out for a few hours and come back in the morning. What time do you have to leave for your appointment?”
I check my watch. “I need to be out of here no later than six. I have an early flight to Vegas.”
His lips twist as he struggles to hold in his real retort. “Okay, I’ll be back before then.”
After lifting his chin in farewell, he strolls out of the hallway. For how fast his pace is, I have an inkling he isn’t going home to catch up on some sleep. With Regan nowhere in sight, and her bedroom door shut, I shrug off my jacket before re-entering Isabelle’s room.
Once my clothing is removed, I slip into her bed. My heart hammers my ribs when her beautiful scent invades my nostrils. I flatten my hand across her stomach before yanking her back until my dick is nestled in the grooves of her perfect ass.
Even with my cock as hard as a rock, and the events of the past week replayed on repeat through my head, I soon fall into a peaceful sleep. Only Isabelle has this power over me. Only she can make it seem light when the darkness of gray shrouds me.
CHAPTER18
ISABELLE
For the first time, I wake up minus the headache that’s been plaguing me the past week. My mind is clear, my body is warm and comforted, and I feel atpeace?After pulling my arms out of the comforter, I have a long, leisure-filled stretch. My muscles are tender, but they are indisputably not as bunched as they were last night. When I glance at the bedside table, my eyes widen when I notice it’s nearly ten o’clock. I slept for over twelve hours.Wowzers!
Although grateful to catch up on some sleep I lost the past week, there’s a reason behind my new fondness of shuteye. The horrifying image at the barn jolted me awake a little after one this morning. It was more intense than any I’d had previously because it meshed together my greatest fears, including my most paramount one—the fear of losing Isaac. My nightmare wasn’t a re-creation of the event that occurred in the barn. My mind switched my fears by replacing the man dangling from the wooden beam with Isaac. The dream was so realistic, I literally couldn’t breathe through the tears streaming down my face.
In a state of panic, I called Isaac. His husky voice suppressed my anxiety, but since fear was curled around my neck asphyxiating my words, I couldn’t explain the panic scorching through my veins. Before I regained the ability to talk, Hugo kicked down my door and gathered me in his arms. Not long after that, Regan handed me two small oval pills she said would help me sleep. Through shaking hands and Regan’s encouraging words, I washed them down with three mouthfuls of expensive, fruit-tasting wine. I don’t recall much after that.
With my suspicion high, but my worry on the down-low, I throw off the covers before scampering out of bed to gather my satin dressing gown from a desk across the room. When a delicious fragrance engulfs my senses, I snap my eyes shut and suck in a giant whiff. The manly scent of Isaac has my heart leaping. His smell is faint since it’s mingled within the freshness of the crisp near-winter morning, but still enough to awaken my libido.
Forgoing my gown, I rush out of the splintered door hanging precariously by its hinges. From following the trail of Isaac’s mouthwatering scent throughout the apartment, my sock-covered feet skid to a halt at the entrance of the kitchen. My shoulders sag when my search for Isaac comes up empty-handed. I was so sure it was his scent I was following, I’m left a little stumped as to why I haven’t found him.
When the aroma of coffee overtakes Isaac’s inviting scent, I pad deeper into the kitchen. Regan is sitting at the island reading a paper and drinking a large mug of steaming hot brew. She must have woken not long before me as she’s still wearing a vibrant red robe that barely contains her cleavage. I cringe when I glance down at my three-quarter cotton galaxy printed pants and dark gray cami that’s incapable of holding in my heavy breasts with its unsexy built-in bra.
Shrugging off the fact that I look like a slob, I help myself to a mug of freshly brewed coffee sitting on the marble countertop in the far corner of the kitchen. Regan’s eyes lift from the paper when she hears my feet shuffling across the tiled floor.
“Morning.” Her groggy voice confirms my assumption that she’s only just awoken.
“Morning.” I hobble to the fridge, praying a shopping fairy delivered some milk overnight. I love coffee—nowhere near as much as Isaac—but it does come a close second, but not when it’s unsweetened and black. “Was Isaac here last night?”
