Page 21 of Searching for Hope

She infuriates me and yet all I want to do is be around her. I want to push her away at the same time as hold her close. I crave her, desire her, lust after her but I can’t allow myself to have her. She is the pinnacle of desire because she is out of bounds, forbidden, even if she doesn’t know it. Being with her over the past couple of days has been torture. I burned with jealousy over anyone who neared her. I hated Dominic for the fact that she chose to go to him instead of staying with me. I despised Michael for being the one she chose as her first even though I didn’t even know of her existence then. I loathed Mr Gorman for daring to put his hands anywhere on her.

I should have never kissed her when I did. I should have never allowed myself to touch her, feel her, taste her. It made the temptation of her stronger. A temptation I am weak because of.

I can still feel the pressure of her body pressed to mine. I can recall the taste of her on my lips and the feel of her skin under my tongue. The waves of desire that pulsed when her arms were wrapped around me still surge with every memory of her touch.

I need to stay away from her.

Returning to my office, I shut the door, trying to muffle the sounds from below and then I stare at my screen again. My emails have increased triple fold. People asking for money. People I’ve promised to pay. And my accountant telling me I haven’t got the money to pay them.

I know all this. I’ve known for months. But hunting down a missing, presumed stolen person isn’t something you can do on the cheap.

In the beginning, I poured myself into my work. It was my life. It was a distraction. But a good distraction. Not the sort of distraction with pale blue eyes that are the same color as the ocean. Not a mouth that is full and soft whether curved into a smile or downturned with sadness. Not one that can make me weak merely by offering a smile.

And dedicating myself to my work was for the best. Money started to pour in. One investment here, another there and soon I could afford to travel around the world on a hunch under the guise of opening my clubs. I could spend a week searching a city based on the word of a stranger. But the closer I got, the more it cost. To help a monster escape from prison does not come cheap. Neither does housing him. But it’s all I know. It’s been my goal for years. To give up now would be to admit to Ette I wasn’t going to bring her mother home.

It would be to fail.

My phone rings. It’s the accountant. Again. I swipe accept so she can tell me things I already know, scenarios I’ve already considered and warnings that are all too familiar. I tune out the sound of her voice and stand in front of the window, watching the pouring rain. It hits the glass hard, leaving the world behind it distorted and streaked. Dark clouds cut between tossed branches.

I’m not completely sure how the conversation with my accountant went. I assume I said all the right things. I take phone call after phone call. Solve problem after problem. Listen to the new ones that crop up and offer off-the-cuff solutions which I hope will bring me a little more time. Just enough to find Hope. I don’t care what happens after that. Whether my clubs collapse or survive, I would have accomplished what I set out to do. I would have restored the balance. It might relieve some of the guilt that weighs on me like an anchor, stopping me from doing anything but finding her. Maybe then I would have the time to start living my own life.

It’s the early hours of the morning by the time I reach one of the bank managers. I need to extend a line of credit. It’s not a big ask, for a business of my size it shouldn’t be a problem, but this man has other ideas. He’s talking to me as though I’m a child. Explaining cash flow and profit and loss as though it’s something I’m struggling to understand. To say I lose my temper is somewhat of an understatement.

Berkley comes rushing into the office at the sound of my enraged voice. She clutches onto the door, eyes wides, hair loose and free around her pale face.

“Are you okay?” she mouths.

She’s wearing nothing but her threadbare t-shirt again. The one she sleeps in. She has no idea what the sight of it does to me. Gripping the phone tighter, I turn away, dismissing her. But instead of leaving, I hear the creak of the floorboards as she steps across and curls into the chair opposite me. She watches me intently, her eyes following my every move as I pace back and forth in front of the rain-streaked window. I can’t concentrate anymore. Ending my conversation, I turn to her with a frustrated sigh.

“Is everything okay?” she asks. “There was lots of yelling.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” I snap.

Her knees are tucked to her chest giving me an unhindered view of her thighs. The t-shirt is looped over her knees, but it doesn’t stop me from catching sight of her white underwear. She isn’t wearing a bra and I can just make out the curve of her breasts beneath the material of her t-shirt. I try not to imagine what it would be like to run my tongue over them. I try but I don’t succeed.

Untangling herself from the chair, she walks over to me, stopping just in front of me, close enough for her chest to brush against mine, and looks up at me with those irresistible eyes. Even if I close mine, hers burn in my memory, such is their intensity. Reaching upward, she cups my cheek. I want to melt into her touch. I want to fall to my knees at her feet and cling to her as though she were life itself.

“I’m here if you need me.”

And there she goes again.

Offering me everything I want.

Her.

I take a step back. And then another. “Go back to bed.”

The hurt is plain in her eyes. She blinks, denying me her gaze for just a fraction of a moment, but even that seems too long. I steel myself against her, hardening both my thoughts and my gaze.

I need to get rid of her. “I can’t deal with you right now.”

She takes a step back, rapidly blinking those big eyes of hers. I need her to take another. I need her to turn and keep walking until she’s out of my sight and the overwhelming ache for her lessens just that little bit. Enough for me to be able to stay away.

“I can’t look at you right now,” I say, knowing that my words sound cruel. But they’re all I’ve got. My only defense. It’s my weakness at fault here, not hers. But that doesn’t change the fact that I need to get away from her before I take her in my arms and never let go.

She shakes her head, her eyes darting between mine. “I don’t understand. I just—” She blinks a few more times as though attempting to fight back tears. The sight of her so vulnerable, so open, is like a knife twisting into my heart. Emotion overwhelms. The need to make her leave and the need to make her realize just how infatuated I am with her collide. I explode.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. You know what you do to me. You know how much I—” I groan and run my hands through my hair before locking eyes with her again. “Do you know what it was like for me to stand there and watch that Michael drool over you? And you just stood there, his arm around you like he owned you.” My words are unhinged and cruel, but it doesn’t stop me.

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