An Inconvenient Obsession (2 page)

When the presentation drew to a close amid murmured exclamations, she addressed the audience yet again. “I’m confident my father would approve of having his island retreat donated to such a worthy cause, and I am humbled to be part of his mission to help those less fortunate than we. In his memory, and to help save the fragile lives that are so dependent upon us for their survival, I’d like to start the bidding at four million dollars.”

“Four million, five hundred thousand,” offered Mrs. Rutherford.

An elderly gentleman with a buxom brunette pressed against his side countered with, “Five million.”

“Five million, one hundred thousand,” called a mink-draped woman from the front row.

The spirited bidding war continued until the price had risen to seven million. At that point, the bidders had been thinned down to two. They volleyed back and forth, upping the price in increments of a hundred thousand until a deep voice from the back cut through the competition.

“Twenty-five million dollars.”

Silence reigned for several suspended breaths until as one, the entire audience turned to determine who’d offered such an outrageous bid. Cate searched along with them, scanning the dim shadows along the rear of the room as speculation surged.

“Twenty-five million dollars,” she repeated as she exchanged a disbelieving glance with her assistant. “Do I hear twenty-five million, one-hundred thousand?”

No one upped the bid and silence descended yet again.

“Going once.” She scanned the crowd, wishing the candles and tree lighting were brighter. “Twice.” One more pause as she searched the dim periphery of the crowd. “Sold to the gentleman in the rear.”

Murmurs rippled through the attendees, making it difficult
for Cate’s voice to be heard. “Sir,” she said, leaning close to the microphone, “if you would be so kind as to come forward, I’d like to personally thank you for your support.”

From the back of the room, a man unfolded his considerable length and rose to his feet. She could only make out his silhouette’s profile as he moved around the tables and toward the side aisle, but something … something indefinable in his movements had her stomach quivering and the hairs on her arms standing on end.

The smooth glide of his broad shoulders, the loose-hipped momentum of his long legs and the shock of unruly black hair grazing his brow resurrected memories she’d meant to bury ages ago. Memories that snuck up on her when she couldn’t sleep and was curled up alone, staring into the fire and plaguing herself with pointless what-ifs.

But it couldn’t be.

Could it?

So she watched, not breathing, until he reached the end of the aisle and pivoted toward the stage. A pulse of recognition flashed through her veins and for a crazy, endless moment, time stopped.

Then he met her eyes and the past slammed back into the present, colliding against her chest with bruising clarity.

She felt her pulse everywhere: drumming in her ears, throat, head and chest. “Ethan,” she whispered. The light at the edges of the room dimmed to blackness while the damaged legs she’d worked years to strengthen threatened to give way.

Panicked, she locked her knees and gripped the edges of the podium. Forcing herself to breathe, she ordered her slamming heart to calm. She would
not
collapse while all of New York society looked on. She could fake composure. She could feign cool benevolence.

Still clutching the podium’s sharp edge, she mustered her
poise, feeling like a wounded butterfly caught in a net. Here on the stage, her turmoil visible to everyone, she didn’t have the luxury of solitude to gather her thoughts, to corral her emotions. The only thought she could frame, her mind running in a frantic circle of panic, was
Just don’t touch me. I can’t touch you. I can’t, can’t …

He touched her anyway, leaning to curl his fingers around her forearm while his lean body eclipsed her only avenue of escape. Her bare flesh trembled beneath the scorching press of his hand. A terrifying heat, electric and sharp, pummeled her veins, her muscles and her nerves, incapacitating her with a frantic wash of emotion that felt entirely too close to fear.

“Cate,” he murmured. His voice, deep and rich and imbued with an authoritative edge it hadn’t held ten years ago, sent awareness careening through her. “It’s been too long.”

Up close, he was even more imposing than he had seemed from afar. His features, blunt and strong, had hardened over the years. Time had honed the angles of his face: the sharp blade of nose, the distinct ridge of cheekbone and jaw. Too masculine by far, he would have appeared too harsh were it not for the tempering effect of thick black lashes and glossy waves of hair.

“Yes,” she said faintly. His hand skimmed down her forearm to the bones of her wrist and hand. Limp with shock, she didn’t protest as he leaned across her to thank the audience. Nor did she resist when he ushered her from the stage, steering her toward the shadowed sidelines while a thunderous swell of applause shredded what was left of her nerves.

By the time the applause died down, he’d backed her into a corner shared only by a quartet of decorated trees. He caught her other hand before she could withdraw, his eyes trapping hers with the same unrelenting command.

“I’m surprised you decided to donate the island,” he said,
leaning close as if he wanted no one else to overhear. “But then again, I’d expect nothing less from a woman like you.”

She reared back, reacting to the accusatory words delivered in such a low, intimate tone.

His eyelids lowered seductively. “You’re too generous to allow sentimentality to override an infant’s need, aren’t you, Cate?”

Too stunned to answer, she searched Ethan’s face for any hint of the boy she’d loved so long ago. There was none. Beneath the smooth, cultivated charm of wealth and power, no hint of his past self remained. Gone was the boy who looked as if he’d swallowed sunlight, as transparent and uncomplicated as the clear water along their beach. A stranger stood in his stead now, a hard, implacable stranger with no softness to him at all. “Why are you here?” she finally managed.

A sardonic curve lifted one side of his mouth while his eyes dipped to caress her trembling lips. “Don’t you know?”

This Ethan Hardesty was polished, elegant and powerful in a way that intimidated any who dared to intercept his path. Muscles swelled against the seams of his tailored tuxedo, his laborer’s shoulders and thighs brutally contained within the trappings of New York society’s evening attire.

Platinum cuff links, the glint of an expensive watch and the hint of bristle beneath closely shaved skin gave him an untamed, dangerous edge that threatened to unravel her composure altogether.

“No,” she whispered. She’d thought she’d never see him again. Ever. She’d sent him away, hurt him terribly and he’d left without a backward glance. “Why now?”

“To be honest, I hadn’t planned to attend tonight,” he said, his low voice an intimate hum against her cheek. “But then I heard you were auctioning off the island, and I couldn’t resist.”

Unable to bear his nearness any longer, she pulled from his grasp. “But surely you could buy any property you want.”

He granted her no quarter, his gaze ensnaring hers yet again. “Yes.” He smiled faintly, and it was a cold smile that didn’t reach his arctic eyes. “But I thought you, of all people, would appreciate the memories I have of the place.”

She swallowed, feeling the blood drain from her face. Her lips trembled as she remembered the last day they’d spent together on the island.
Their
island. The day that her world had ceased to hold any joy at all. “I don’t.”

“I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but you’re even more stunning than I remembered,” he said, ignoring her reference to the past as if she hadn’t even spoken. “But still no ring, I see.”

Her throat tightened. She’d paid the price for her cruelty, and sabotaged her future because of it. “No.”

His stare, its vivid blue clouded with a skiff of storm, flared with an emotion she couldn’t read. “I can’t imagine you alone.”

She ducked her head to disguise the upheaval the interchange wrought, inhaling sharply before she met his eyes again. “What about you? I take it you’re enjoying the life of an unattached playboy?”

Cold cynicism tugged at his mouth. “You could say it has its … perks.”

His offhand comment should not have made the pulse thrum high against her throat, but it did.

“Dance with me,” he said softly, extending his other hand.

She became aware of the music, of the shifting sounds of the crowd as couples abandoned their seats and moved toward the dance floor. “Thank you,” she lied as she avoided his hand, “but I can’t.”

A black brow rose over flat, blue eyes. “I never took you for a coward, Cate.”

“I’m not.”

“It’s just a dance.” He moved closer to grip her arm just below her elbow, pressing her backward onto the edge of the polished wood floor. “For old time’s sake.”

She tugged against his hold as she searched for escape along the stretch of display tables at the edge of the ballroom. Finding no viable excuse to refuse him, she mustered the courage to meet his gaze and blurted, “But you hate dancing.”

He stiffened, the rigid lines of his body harsh against the twinkling white lights behind him. “Do I?”

Cate swallowed, too many memories rushing to fill the excruciating silence. Memories that still held her thoughts hostage whenever she lowered her guard. Memories that no longer reflected reality. For the Ethan who’d stayed with her like a ghost, haunting her dreams with futile adolescent hopes for happiness and love, didn’t exist anymore. She’d seen to that.

His expression cleared beneath a confident flash of white teeth. “A lot has changed in the last ten years, Cate. You’ll find I’m not the same boy you once knew.”

She stared at him, awash with a blend of both dread and fascination. Despite the risks, she wanted to hear about all the changes wrought by the years between then and now, to understand the trials and successes that had shaped him into the man he’d become. She wanted to explore the complexities of this stranger she’d sent to his fate so long ago, to test the waters of his forgiveness and to assuage the layers of her guilt. “All right,” she conceded. “But just one dance. Then I have to oversee the auction payments.”

The curve of his mouth hinted at the triumphant smile of his youth while he reclaimed her elbow. “Done,” he promised.

With one warm palm against the small of her back, he guided her toward the center of the dance floor. She felt his heat, searing her, making her feel hot and cold all at the same
time while the other patrons parted before him like supplicants before royalty.

A detached part of her brain catalogued the difference between his reception now and what it might have been had he accompanied her to the annual auction ten years ago. But then he rotated her to face him and stepped close, his thigh bumping high between hers and the wide command of his fingers against her spine claiming her full attention.

She couldn’t think. Couldn’t speak. The rhythmic pulse of the music throbbed through her veins, sparking along her nerve endings and electrifying her skin.

“Amazing that we still fit so well, isn’t it?” Ethan’s penetrating gaze remained on hers as his warm hand splayed beneath her shoulder blades. Heat licked along her nerve endings again. She sucked in a labored breath, the air heavy and thick within her lungs.

His hands against her shouldn’t have fractured her breathing so completely, shouldn’t have rattled her composure to the point that she swayed against him, her fingers brushing the outline of thick chest beneath smooth layers of silk and wool. But she swayed nonetheless, her legs unable to support her weight any longer.

A band of color darkened his cheekbones as he adjusted her weight against his. “You’re as graceful as ever, Cate.”

If he only knew.
Staring into his blue eyes, she felt herself tumble headlong beneath his spell. Again. His rugged features, taut and intense, focused solely on her. His expression made her feel as though they were the only two people in the world, as though she was the only person in
his
world. The noise of tipsy auction attendees dulled and the music blurred into a steady, rhythmic thrumming that matched the tempo of her pulse.

Ethan slid his hard arm lower against her waist and hitched her up onto her toes, eliciting a jolt of pleasure when her groin
aligned intimately with his. His other hand lifted hers, gentle despite the implacable hardness in his eyes, and he slowly, expertly guided her into a tight circle.

It felt right. So, so right, to be held by him. Overwhelmed, she closed her eyes and allowed the moment to wash over her, remembering the time spent together so long ago. Like listening to a song she’d once memorized and then forgot, the music they made together came filtering back, a sweet, haunting echo of the past.

When the song drew to its bittersweet end, Cate dragged her eyes open and met his unfiltered gaze. She sucked in a breath, her heart rising to slam hard against the base of her throat. For whether he’d wanted her to or not, she recognized the hatred he’d intended to conceal.

Oh, God.

She only saw it because once, she had loved him. Because once, she’d known him better than she knew herself, and he’d been unable to hide anything from her.

Now, despite the passage of time, despite the practiced mask of charm he’d donned, she could read the suppressed anger beneath his veneer of sophisticated command. She could read it in his coiled muscles and the firm grip of his hands against her back and wrist.

Just as she knew he would, he despised her for what she’d done. The emotion limned the bright blue of his eyes, creating a razor-sharp edge to his focus.

Oh, Ethan,
she thought with a dizzying wave of regret.
I did it for you. Only for you.

An innate sense of self-preservation urged her to flee, to put as much distance between them as possible. But she could hardly sprint off the dance floor, hair flying and her shoes clattering behind her. Forcing calmness, she extricated herself from his arms. “Thank you for the dance.”