All Good Things (4 page)

His brows raised and he chuckled. "I like Italian too." Oh, good. He could respond like a normal person. "I know an excellent restaurant. I would like to take you."

My heart raced as my mind deciphered the meaning of his words. Was he asking me out? I shook my head. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"I happen to think that it's an exceptional idea, but I'm interested, so please indulge me. Why do you think it's a bad idea?"

I felt as though I were floundering in the intensity of his gaze. "I don't date."

He cocked his head, grinning devilishly. "I don't date either, Olivia."

"Oh," I blushed. "Well then,"

"Is that a yes?"

Was it? God, I wanted to...but I knew better. He was bad! He was the worst kind of bad. Good lord, he would be a devastating danger to the sanity of my mind and heart. "No."

His eyes burned with curiosity. Did he not realize I just rejected him? "So, it's a no?"

Was he dense? "I don't want to go out with you."

"May I ask why not?"

"No." I shook my head.

"Well, I'm going to ask regardless." His gaze swept my face, and I flushed...again. "Why?"

I tried to measure my uneven breaths. "I apologize if this is rude, but I do not associate with men like you."

"Men like me?"

I nodded, feeling bold and a tad frustrated. "Yes, men like you."

"You think you have me pegged?"

"I do."

"Please, enlighten me as to what kind of man you assume me to be." His words were gruff. I had offended him. That had not been my intention, but if that was what needed to happen for him to leave me alone, then, so be it. Offense was unavoidable.

"You're dangerous."

"I am." He confirmed, interrupting me.

I paled, but continued. "You toy with women's emotions and use your looks to your advantage in swaying the resolve a woman places against you. I have no interest in tangoing with a man like you."

His posture was stiff as he took in my harsh words. "I do use women, but not first without their consent. I assure you, if it is my desire, they find equal pleasure in my company, as I do, in theirs. I admit my looks are an advantage, but there are many other compensations I occupy that enable me to possess the women I crave." He lifted his hand from his side before sliding his fingers beneath my chin, tilting my face back, forcing me to meet his eyes. "I crave you."

My heart was beating erratically in my chest. He was so much more dangerous than I thought. The fact that I was turned on by his words was confirmation I could never meet with Jace again. He would destroy me, of that I was certain. "You are impossible," I breathed.

"And for your information, I do not tango." He specified, ignoring my statement.

I pulled my face away from his heated touch and glared hard at him. "It was a figure of speech."

"I assumed." His reply was clipped.

"I think you should go."

He nodded as he stood. I watched as he packed up his sparse belongings before moving to the door of the hospital room. He paused, turning to look back at me, and my heart ricocheted in its cage.

"You will see me again, Olivia." He promised. And then he turned, and walked from the room.

***

It had been a week since I'd walked from the hospital room, leaving Olivia to her own devices. I knew Trisha would be there to pick her up in the morning when she was discharged. I'd even had half a mind to send a car to pick them up, but I talked myself out of it after a long night and half a bottle of whisky. I was not a drinker. That was rare for me, but I had been, and still was, desperate for a release from her memory.

I thought after a few days, I would forget about her, but that had not yet happened. She was the first thing I thought of when I woke. And, the image of her face was the last image I saw when I closed my eyes at night. She plagued my dreams and haunted my days. I didn't know her, but I wanted her. I wanted her in ways I had never wanted anyone else. If only I could have her...if even for a short period of time, I could, surely get her out of my system and move on with my life.

Yes, that's what I had to do. I leaned back from my desk into the plush leather of my chair and nodded at the brilliance of my idea. I would only need a month with her to sate my preposterous infatuation. Only a month...and then, I could move on and forget about her existence.

Caleb had been right in saying I was not good for her. I was, undoubtedly, going to be her undoing, but at this point, I didn't give a shit. She had become my undoing and from my point of view, it was take or be taken from. I had always been a taker and she was not about to change that.

I would find a way to make her mine. I would find a way to break through her armor so I could possess her completely. I would own her, no matter the line I had to cross.

Chapter 3

"Eat." Trisha commanded. She pushed a bowl of oatmeal across the granite countertop of the island.

I shook my head. Eating was the last thing I wanted to do. My nerves had been a jumbled mess since the night I watched Jace walk from the hospital room, leaving me alone and confused. His promise lingered in my mind, demanding prominence over all other thoughts. As each day passed without him making good on his promise, I realized I wanted to see him again.

My mind knew he was wrong for me. Oh, I knew he was wrong for me...but I was past the point of caring. I wanted him to reappear in my life in all his godly splendor. If all I ever did was appreciate his body...well, that would be enough.

"You are eating whether you want to or not." She reached across the counter and plucked the spoon from the bowl, holding it as though she expected me to allow her to feed me. "I made it just the way you like it. Even though all that milk in there disgusts me. How you eat it like that, I will never know."

"Trisha, I'm not hungry."

"I don't care." She continued to hold the spoon. "You haven't eaten a full meal in four days."

"It's my nerves!" I exclaimed in a whine. "You know how I get when I'm nervous."

She nodded. "I do. That's why I'm going to force you to eat, because I know if you don't, you will starve."

I narrowed my eyes, glaring at her over the spoon. "I will not starve."

"You need to forget that Jace ever existed. I don't know what he was hanging around for anyway." She sighed, finally lowering the spoon. "It wasn't like it was survivors guilt or anything."

I had been waiting for this talk, and quite frankly, I was humiliated it had even come to this point. I'd spoken to the guy for a few hours. We exchanged awkward words and heated moments...well, they were heated on my part. Regardless, I had no excuse for my obsession of him. Trisha was right, I needed to move on and forget Jace and all his glory, ever existed.

"I'll eat." I mumbled. I didn't want to continue with this conversation. It was too much.

"You are beautiful and brilliant. A man like him would only dull your light, honey. You need someone who isn't so...haunted." She shivered as she thought of Jace and my heart sped up.

"Haunted?"

"Yeah, while you were in the hospital," she paused at the memory. "He just seemed like he needed you to live so he could live. It was weird. I didn't like him from the moment I met him."

"Oh,"

She continued and I took another bite of oatmeal in hopes she would continue talking if I continued eating. "It's obvious he is a man in power. I mean; no one called him Jace, but me. They all referred to him as Mr. Rush," she laughed. "And when I called him by his first name, people looked at me like I'd sprouted another head."

"Really?" I needed her to continue talking. I hadn't known his last name before now. I decided then, I would Google him as soon as I got a minute away from Trisha's worry-filled eyes. For now, I was soaking up every miniscule tidbit of information she threw me. I was a woman possessed.

"I know, right? Who goes by their last name?" She shook her head. "It's so cold."

"Totally." I agreed, in hopes she would give me something more.

"Anyway," she shook her head. I felt my heart sink into the pit of my stomach. Suddenly, the half bowl of oatmeal I gorged didn't make me feel so hot. The nerves were back. "I thought we would go visit the site for your café bookstore today. You should really get back to work or you'll never get it open."

I nodded. She was right. My dream of opening something simple and homey was being stomped on by the memory of a brutally egotistical man. Opening a café bookstore had been a dream of mine since I was a little girl. My parents tried relentlessly to dissuade me from the idea over the years, but I adamantly refused to be swayed. It was a feat I was proud of.

My parents had wanted me to partner with my brother in hopes the two of us would take over my fathers practice. But, law had never held a smidgen of interest for me. It was so stuffy, and serious, and well...it was depressing. I wanted to find happiness in my life. As a child, there had been little to no joy available.

I was well aware that a café bookstore wouldn't offer me the kind of lifestyle I had been raised to desire, but I knew first-hand what money did to a family. I hadn't decided for certain if I even wanted a family. I was only twenty-two and in my opinion, that was far too young to bring a child into my life. But, I knew what I did want. I wanted to wake up everyday with the knowledge that I was fulfilling a deep routed passion. I wanted to be happy.

I pushed away from the island counter and stood. "I'm going to get into the shower."

Trisha clapped her hands excitedly and a high-pitched squeal of self-satisfied excitement echoed behind me as I made my way down the hall to my bedroom. Our condo was nice, but it was nothing spectacular. There were two bedrooms, each with their own bathroom attached. I'd had enough money from my grandfather's inheritance to lease the apartment for one year. I paid my half and Trisha's parents paid hers. I spent the rest of his money opening my café bookstore. I hoped to God my risk paid off, because I really could not afford to live in New York any other way. And, I could not ask my parents for a dime. I hadn't spoken to them since moving across the globe. They disowned me when I decided to follow my own dreams rather than obliging to theirs. I knew it was going to be hard, but I was determined. Nothing worth it in life ever came easy.

I closed the door of my bedroom before twisting the lock on the knob. I rarely ever locked my door. There was nothing I desired to hide from Trisha...but I wanted to hide this.

I folded my arms over my chest as I stared through narrowed eyes at the silver laptop that sat untouched on my desk. I hadn't fired it up since the accident. I still didn't remember the accident. The only thing I remembered was waking up and seeing Jace and his glistening chest.

I shook my head, trying to shoo away my nerves as I crossed the distance from my door to my desk. I opened the laptop, clicked the Google icon I had stored on my desktop and typed in his name. Jace Rush.

Oh. My. Goodness.

This man was a God in every sense of the word that mattered. I would swear over my grandfather's grave he owned half of New York. I scanned through image after image of Jace, and in each picture there was a different beauty on his arm. This man had it all. The cars, the clothes, the looks...the life. He didn't appear to want for a single thing. I didn't even know if he knew what wanting entailed. It's not like I was born into a life of poverty, and I was no expert on the aspects of yearning for something physical. But, regardless of the materials I'd had lavished on me throughout my life, there had always been something missing. I realized, as I grew older, it was affection. In my home, dreams didn't exist, and in their place, sat cold, hard cash.

Jace didn't look as though he wanted for anything and from what I'd read he'd only ever lived through one tragedy. The suicide of his father. My heart felt heavy as I read through clippings of the businessman who had raised Jace. He appeared to have been a hard, determined man. He didn't seem a thing like Jace. He looked almost like my own father. And, I couldn't help but wonder, if he too had been haunted by his need to succeed.

I read further, clicking on another article with Jace's name printed in bold. He had taken over Rush Industries when his father passed, expanding the company far beyond any reach his father ever could have dreamed. I didn't really understand companies like Jace's. But, they bought companies that were struggling to thrive against the challenges presented by the world and broke them into smaller divisions and somehow made a profit off it. In my opinion, it was gambling of the most lethal kind. A risk like that...well, it was just unfathomable. My little café bookstore was enough to give me an aneurism. I couldn't imagine how he slept at night with the pressure he had weighing down on him twenty-five hours a day, eight days a week.

I thought of the man I'd met in the hospital room. Confidence oozed from him by the gallon. If anything, the pressure of his responsibilities built him up rather than weighing him down. How, I would never know.

My eyes caught sight of another headline and my heart raced. It was dated two days ago. My fingers slid over the mouse-pad as though they were possessed. The article came to life on my screen, halting my heart. He was at an event, and like always, there was a beauty on his arm. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the photo of Jace with the red head at his side, but I had read enough of the article to know he was at a grand hotel opening. The hotel was his. It shouldn't have surprised me, but it did.

I felt sick to my stomach as I studied his picture. His beauty was magnificent; it was unearthly. His black hair was purposefully disheveled, giving him the 'just fucked' look. I hated myself when my stomach muscles clenched in desire just from looking at him. I wondered if Red ran her fingers through his hair earlier. My throat closed at the image I'd conjured in my mind. I knew I could read the article and probably locate her name, but Red suited me just fine. I didn't want to give her a name. I already hated her.

I powered off the laptop and sat back in my chair. I felt numb. Who was this jealous girl possessing my body? This was so unlike me. If I was being honest with myself, there was nothing about Jace that should appeal to me. He had money and fame and everything my parents had back home. He was the kind of guy my parents would pressure me to date and like the times before, I knew Jace would hurt me. I had never bothered to give my heart to anyone and, in my opinion, no one I'd ever spent any time with was ever good enough to be given such a precious gift.