Page 200 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
My inner vixen lifts herself off the floor when my eyes zoom in on a carton of milk in the fridge door. After a quick sniff to ensure its freshness, I pour a generous dash into my mug before dawdling to the island.
After bracing my hip on the island, I nurse the warm mug in my hand before seeking Regan’s gaze. She failed to answer my question, which means she is most likely hiding something. She’s only evasive when she’s deceitful.
After a short deliberation, she briskly shakes her head. “Nope, Isaac wasn’t here.”
My brows furrow. I could have sworn the scent infusing the air was Isaac’s tempting smell. Wearily smiling, Regan rises from the barstool, bumps me with her hip before dumping her empty mug into the sink and sauntering out of the room. If that isn’t a clear sign she’s not up for her first interrogation of the day, nothing is.
She stops by Hugo, who is lounging on the reclining chair in the living room before entering the hallway. Guilt smacks me in the chest when Hugo’s tired eyes glance my way. My terrified screams were so loud, I woke him up even with him sleeping on the opposite end of Regan’s imposing penthouse.
“Coffee?” I jingle my half-empty mug in the air. I can’t return the sleep he missed last night, but I can help to ease his tiredness by supplying him with an unlimited amount of caffeine.
Smiling, he nods before joining me in the kitchen. I make his coffee with the three large teaspoons of sugar and milk he requests before handing it to him. He gobbles down two big mouthfuls as if it isn’t scalding hot.
“How did you sleep?”
I blow on my second cup for the day to cool it down before shrugging. “After the whole…incident, I slept well.” After peering at him over the rim of my mug, I give him my best ‘sorry’ face. “I’m sorry if I startled you.”
Hugo smiles against the rim of his mug. “Your screams scared the fucking shit out of me, but don’t apologize for something you can’t help.” He lowers the mug from his mouth. It’s almost half empty. “But from now on, can you sleep with your door unlocked?” In true Hugo form, his eyes dazzle with cheekiness during the last half of his request.
Feeling playful, I poke out my tongue. “I was just ensuring you worked off all that junk you ate yesterday.”
His chuckle has me wondering how stable the footings are in Regan’s building. One more rattle like that might have us toppling to the ground. When his laughter dies down, I ask, “Did you talk to Isaac last night?”
“Yeah. He was kind of shaken up.”
Pain claws at my chest. I was so worked up, I didn’t comprehend how my panic would transcend to Isaac. I didn’t mean to scare him. I just wanted his voice to jolt me back into reality. Hearing his voice affirmed my dream wasn’t real. It was wrong of me to do, but I don’t know how else I could have dragged myself out of my nightmare.
When Hugo spots my forlorn look, he tries to soothe my guilt. “Isaac isn’t upset you called him. He just hates that you went through it alone. No one should have witnessed what you saw. It was…” Instead of finishing his thought, a shudder surges through his body.
The coffee I’ve only just consumed threatens to resurface when the image from my nightmare last night rushes to the forefront of my mind. Having a wondrous imagination can be great except during times like this.
When I brush off a rogue tear spilling down my cheek before I can make an excuse for my senseless babying, Hugo wraps me up in a warm embrace. Because he’s so big, I’m literally suffocated by him. No words spill from his lips as he comforts me. He just runs his hand soothingly down my back, his consoling done in silence. It doesn’t weaken its effect. If anything, a lack of communicating makes it even more compelling.
I don’t know how much time passes before Hugo grumbles, “If you tell Isaac I had my arms around you, I’ll be a dead man walking.”
I inch back before raising my eyes. “It’ll be our little secret.”
A stretch of silence crosses between us. It doesn’t feel uncomfortable. It just feels right. Hugo is undoubtedly attractive. His vibrant blue eyes and ruggedly handsome face would have most girls’ panties moistening long before they take in the rest of his package, but I don’t get the slightest rush of the excitement I get when Isaac is nearby. Hugo’s like the big brother I never had. He’s fun to have around, more annoying than endearing, and more than capable of beating senseless any guy who dares mess with me. It’s kind of cool having a big brother. I just wish my real brother had someone looking out for him as Hugo looks out for me. I’m sure he’s fine. In Vladimir’s world, men outrank women tenfold, but I still can’t help but wonder what happened to Enrique.
When Hugo drags his index finger over his brow, removing tiny beads of sweat formed there, I watch him peculiarly. He looks petrified. I find out why when he says, “Isaac scheduled an appointment for you to… umm… talk to someone today.”
“Jesus, I must have really scared him.”
“It was my idea,” Hugo jumps in, quick to defend his boss. “There’s no shame seeking assistance in a crisis, Izzy.”
The assertiveness in his tone has me wondering if he sought similar assistance when his sister and nephew were killed. The event that led to their deaths was haunting enough, but with the justice system failing to protect the innocent, it made the entire situation extremely prickly.
Taking my silence as confirmation I’ll attend the session Isaac organized, Hugo dumps his empty mug into the sink before hot-footing it out of the kitchen. “Your appointment is in an hour. With how bad traffic is, we should head off shortly.”
I nod. Although I’ve never spoken to a shrink, I agree there’s no dishonor in seeking help when needed. A therapist may help me ensure Isaac isn’t left harboring the brunt of my anxiety. I’ll do anything to lessen the heavy burden he’s carrying.
With time not on my side, I forgo a morning shower, instead throwing on the Levi jeans and dusty pink cashmere sweater I wore the morning I left Isaac’s apartment after we became an official couple. When I pull the sweater over my head, Isaac’s mouthwatering scent activates every one of my hot buttons. It’s been laundered, but not even a hefty dry-cleaning bill could remove his scent from the cuddly-soft material.
After snagging my satchel off the bedside table, I dart out of the room, narrowly avoiding a second catastrophe by leaving my cell phone on the bedside table.
CHAPTER19
ISABELLE
