Tempting - Lucian Alex - Страница 15
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“Nathaniel, I can see you’re home,” my father’s voice came from the other side of the door. I cursed under my breath, shoving Adele toward the staircase that led upstairs. He’d never go up there, I don’t think he had since the weekend Diana and I moved in.
“Who’s that?” Adele whispered after hurrying up the first couple steps, pulling her pants back into place while she did.
I clenched my jaw and pointed upstairs. “My father. Now just go into the bathroom, first door on the right and stay right there until I tell you to come down.”
The knocking continued and I pulled in a breath and called out, “Coming!”
“No,” Adele said and leaned her head around the top of the stairs to look down at me, despite the incredulous glare I leveled at her, “but I was really, really close.”
Chapter Twelve
Standing in front of the door, pulling in a steadying breath before opening it for my father, there was a brief, lucid moment of deja vu that swallowed me like a tidal wave. No question that the outcome would be different, obviously Adele was hiding in my bathroom…
Adele was hiding in my bathroom. Fuck.
I’d officially regressed to something akin to a hormonal teenage boy, trying to hide his first boner from his parents after sneaking a peek at a Victoria’s Secret catalog. I shook my head briskly and pulled open the door, scowling at my father.
“What?”
He shouldered past me without actually making contact, which was a true gift, because I backed away as if he had. If there wasn’t a woman hiding about fourteen feet away from us, it might have bothered me more that I’d been the one to move. As it was, I could only focus on looking like I wasn’t on the verge of freaking the hell out.
“My assistant told me that you haven’t RSVP’d yet.”
I sighed, rubbing at my forehead. “That’s because I forgot. I do have other things that I’m responsible for that are actually more important than sitting at that dinner.”
“As much as I love stopping by this godawful house during my free time, I knew you’d just ignore me if I called or emailed again. Your mother wants you there,” I snorted and he continued as if I hadn’t made a noise, “and it reflects positively on our whole family. We’re as much of a legacy at this university as there is without actually building it, and if you plan on continuing your career here as an Easton, then you will be there.”
There might have been another time where I’d push the issue, press back against the way he’d always wanted to plan out every detail of my life. Maybe even tell him that I quit, I’d gladly take my degree somewhere else, even if it meant leaving the Easton name behind. But Adele was upstairs doing God knows what, and I just didn’t have any fight in me.
Shaking my head, I pulled my phone out of the back pocket of my pants and scrolled through my contacts until I found his office number. My father crossed his arms over his barrel chest and leaned back against the wall next to the entryway table. I met his gaze while his assistant picked up.
“Richard Easton’s office.”
“Nancy, it’s Nathan.”
“Well, Nathan,” her voice warmed immediately, but I didn’t smile, unwilling to give him any ammunition against the only employee of his that I’d liked in the last twenty years, “it’s been far too long since I’ve seen that handsome face of yours. When are you going to come visit me?”
“Soon, I promise.” It was a lie. I wouldn’t go near that place as long as I knew he was in the office behind her desk. “Listen, can you put me down for a plate at the family table at the scholarship dinner in a couple weeks? It slipped my mind to RSVP when I received the invitation.”
“Of course, dear. Shall I put you down as bringing a guest as well?”
Then I did smile, getting a vision of Adele sitting next to me at a $1500 a plate dinner, wearing her black leather pants and horrifying my parents. “No, it’ll just be me. Thank you, Nancy.”
I clicked off the call and continued to hold his stare. He broke first, pushing off from the wall and heading back toward the door.
“What? No thank you?” I said when he pulled open the door, showing no intention of speaking to me again. I should’ve just let him leave.
My father paused long enough to spare me a glance over his shoulder. “Thanks aren’t required when you’re fulfilling a familial obligation, Nathaniel. If you had a modicum of professionalism, you’d understand that.”
The door slammed shut behind him and I clenched my teeth together, breathing hard through my nose. I hated him, hated him so much that it sometimes felt like it would burn me alive from the inside out. And yet I was still under his thumb, working where he’d wanted me to work from the day I was born. I braced my hands on my hips, attempting to calm myself down before I went back upstairs to deal with Adele.
And what was worse than anything that had happened since my father knocked on that door was the realization of how right he was. As his parting shot was still hanging in the air about my lack of professionalism, I would still probably be able to smell Adele on my fingers had I lifted them to my nose. I took the stairs two at a time, rage billowing up in my chest. Why couldn’t she just leave me alone? I’d never sought out to be this pathetic cliche, fucking my young, beautiful student because I’d felt terrible about myself for so long.
When I turned at the top of the stairs toward the bathroom door, I steadied myself. It wasn’t Adele’s fault my dad was a prick. Despite her poor judgement in showing up at my house, she didn’t deserve to be the victim of my misdirected anger.
I pushed open the bathroom door, schooling my face, only to find it empty.
Okay. Stay calm. She probably just went into the guest room across the hall because it was more comfortable. Except, that room was empty too. My heart thundered in my chest. Because I highly doubted that Adele was tucked into the linen closet. And my bedroom door was cracked open, like someone hadn’t dared to close it.
For a moment before I pushed the door open, I paused, reminding myself that violence toward women was not allowed. I’d just calmly ask her to leave.
“Adele, you shouldn’t be—” my voice sliced off, the words jamming in my throat.
Skin. I saw so much skin, covered by tiny scraps of black lace. My eyes took everything in at once, like I was reading an entire page of text with one glance. She’d kept her underwear on, but that was it. Maybe she’d wanted me to decimate it like I’d done the first night we were together.
Her legs were crossed, one foot swinging lazily against the backdrop of my blue-striped comforter. One hand rested on her knee, and the other was stroking the skin on the upper curve of her right breast. Her nipples were tight little buds, and as pissed off as I was, I wanted to tug at them with my teeth. Make her wonder if I was close to drawing blood.
I would, too. If I laid a hand on her right now, I’d hurt her.
So I curled them both into tight fists at my sides. But it was her face that made me snap. She was so sure, so fucking sure that I would cave to her. Those green eyes of hers glowed with a sickening level of triumph, not even the tiniest smile curved her lips.
“Get out.” I didn’t point toward the door, didn’t move my eyes from hers. Then she did smile, eyes dropping down to the front of my pants. I wasn’t fully hard, my rage at seeing her sitting in a place that no woman had been in since the last night Diana was alive morphing into something that overrode even the basest reaction to a naked woman. I wanted to hurt her, wanted to wound her in a way that she’d never want to look at me again, let alone touch me.
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