Chapter 8

AURORA. It was a little after midnight when my phone rang. Grudgingly, I reached for it on the nightstand next to my bed, squinting my eyes to take in the caller ID. The number was unknown. I groaned sleepily. Why would an unknown number be calling me at this time of the night? It had better not be a telemarketer. It was barely two hours after Justin left and Lola and I had retired to bed. Insisting that he needed to catch up on our lives, he’d kept us awake for far too long. Not that I hadn’t enjoyed his usual snooping around, but I had to be at the office at eight in the morning and all I wanted to do was sleep. Sighing with my eyes half closed, I returned the phone to the bedstand. Whoever it was could wait. I’d return the call in the morning. I was drifting away again when the annoying device rang again. “Ugh!” Who the hell was it? “What do you want?” I almost screamed. “Is this Aurora?” A non-familiar masculine voice filled my ears. I was suddenly half-alert. “Who’s asking?” “Nathaniel’s passed out and he’s been mumbling your name for the better part of tonight. Could you come get him? Or I swear I’ll leave him here.” Of course, it was my boss. Who else would intrude upon my sleep so shamelessly? Inhaling, I said, “Text me the address and I’ll be there soon.” **** In the dimly lit bar, sleek and polished furniture adorned the spacious venue, exuding a chic yet inviting ambiance. The soft glow of contemporary pendant lights illuminated the room, casting gentle shadows upon the tastefully adorned walls. A row of gleaming taps stood tall behind the bar, showcasing an array of craft beers and artisanal cocktails. The bartender, sporting a trendy apron, deftly mixed drinks with the precision of a seasoned mixologist, while electronic beats provided a pulsating soundtrack to the evening. I hesitated at the entrance, my eyes scanning the modern haven as I looked around for Nathaniel before taking the first step inside. I didn’t have to look long. Nathaniel was splayed at the end of the bar, head on the marble counter, arms spread at either side of him. I frowned. He looked awful. I stepped forward, gingerly avoiding some of the patrons who called out to me shamelessly before I got to Nathaniel. “Nathaniel,” I whispered, poking him a little. He didn’t move. “What on earth is wrong with you?” “You’re Aurora?” I looked up to the voice, my eyes meeting a man whose beauty almost gave me whiplash. I blinked, taking him in. Dirty blond mane of hair rested on his head and under it were perfectly carved brows of a darker color. His nose was straight, though crooked at the tip, like he’d been in too many fights. And his lips were the darkest shade of red I’ve ever seen on a man. I wanted to reach forward and run my finger over it, just to be sure he hadn’t applied lipstick or something. Did men wear lipstick? “Yes, I am.” Yet even as I took in this beautiful specimen, I couldn’t help but notice that Nathaniel was more handsome. Unlike this man’s prettiness and soft edges, Nathaniel was hard, rough and all masculine. I swallowed. “You called me?” “I did. My name is Winter,” he said, looking at me like he’d just seen an angel. “I’m his best friend, or at least that's what he tells me.” I nodded. I hadn’t known Nathaniel had a best friend, much less one as beautiful as Winter. “Cheating on me,” Nathaniel mumbled, his eyes closed. “She’s a…” He mumbled the rest at a volume I couldn't hear. I frowned. “What happened to him?” Finally taking his eyes off me, Winter’s gaze turned to pity the moment he laid them on his friend. “Marital problems.” “Oh.” What else was I supposed to say? Maybe his wife hadn’t liked the clothes and jewelry. My heart sank. He’d come here to drink, to forget. Seeing him like this did something to me. I wanted to reach over and soothe the troubled furrow of his eyebrows. “I’ll take him home.” I heard Winter clear his throat but I didn’t look at his face. His gaze was much too intense. “You should,” he said. “I would’ve but I’ve got another engagement. I’ll check up on him soon.” I nodded again, getting out my phone and calling Nathaniel’s driver. I wanted to ask how he’d gotten here but that would mean prolonging my conversation with Winter and I was too disconcerted to process whether the look in his eyes was surprise at Nathaniel having a female personal assistant, or it was interest in me. After calling the driver, Winter left and it was only ten minutes before the driver arrived. In another ten, we were pulling into Nathaniel’s… what the hell was this building? A hotel? “Is this where he lives?” I asked the driver, confused. He nodded, pointing upwards. “The penthouse at the top floor.” “Jesus,” I muttered. The struggle to pull Nathaniel from the car was not one I could win so I enlisted the help of the driver and in a matter of minutes—maybe thirty—we were in his ridiculously huge penthouse. The driver laid Nathaniel on the couch and after I thanked him thoroughly for the trouble, he left. Sighing, I began to undo the laces of his shoes. He was still in his suit from earlier, meaning that he had not changed. I wondered what had happened to make him do something like this. The Nathaniel I was used to was a man who loved order. He was reserved and I knew it would have taken something really serious to get him to drink like this. “You shouldn’t have to see me like this.” **** NATHANIEL. Aurora, sweet Aurora, met his gaze at the words. Then her eyes narrowed and she gave him a look from underneath her lashes. “Yeah? And how come that I am? How come your friend Winter called me by midnight to tell me to come pick you up?” Nathaniel frowned. He was not a man led by his emotions or his temper. What on earth had driven him to drink so much? And why the devil had Winter called Aurora? He could have just as well called his driver and Ramos would’ve taken care of it. Why had he gotten Aurora involved? Nevertheless, he was still her employer and she had no business talking to him like that. “Look here—” “Do you understand how worried I was?” she cut in, her eyes brimming with tears as her hands stopped fumbling with the laces of his shoes to stare at him. Nathaniel blinked, the realization of the moment washing over him like a bucket of ice water. She had been worried for him. Nathaniel stared at her bow-shaped mouth and even though he knew it was foolish, his vexation shifted into something else, something deeper and a thousand times more dangerous because it wanted. It craved. It yearned. A wave of lust engulfed him so violently that his knees nearly buckled. Thank God he was horizontal. Alarmed at the tide of desire dragging him under, Nathaniel shook his head. “I think you should go,” he managed to say. With a shaky breath, he watched with his control barely intact as she got to her feet, met his gaze one more time and left, the silence echoing with the absence of her presence. Nathaniel sighed, feeling his body right itself. What the freaking hell had been in that whiskey?