Only Ever Yours, page 14
“Sounds good.”
I watch as she saunters away and then head into my office to finish up a few last-minute things, since I’ll be out of the country for the next few days. Once I’m done, I shut everything down and lock up, turning on the alarm system. After what happened at the marina with the fire, I’ve upped my security and cameras. It needed to be done anyway.
When I get down to the marina, I head straight into the warehouse and to my office, where I find Noah and Adrian Burgrov, a business associate of mine, waiting.
“Isaac, how are you?” Adrian asks in his thick, Russian accent, extending his hand to shake my own.
“I’m well.” I gesture for him to have a seat. “How are you? How’s Patrice?”
“Spending my money as always,” he says with a laugh, but the smile on his face tells me how much he loves his wife and is perfectly content with her spending however much she wants. I’ve only met her once in all the years we’ve been doing business, but it was clear how in love they are.
“Noah, here, tells me that you’re off the market as well. I told him I won’t believe it until I see it for myself.”
I mentally roll my eyes at my best friend. Fucking asshole has to make sure everyone knows I’m no longer a bachelor.
“It’s true. We’ll have to make time for a double date at some point.”
Noah groans under his breath, making Adrian chuckle. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. My Patrice will love that.”
I pull out the folder I need and open it, pushing it toward Adrian, so we can switch into business mode. “Here’s the details of what you requested and the prices.”
He’s already seen all of this, but I always show it to them before the transaction takes place, so they can double-check.
“That’s perfect, my friend.” He signs on the line and then pulls out his phone. A minute later, he says, “Funds have been wired.”
I quickly log into my account to confirm—because I don’t trust anyone completely—and once I see they’re there, we head out to the equipment, where his order is waiting to be loaded into his vehicle.
I nod toward my men, giving them the okay, and they start loading as Adrian double-checks the merchandise, making sure everything is to his satisfaction.
Everything is about loaded into the vehicle, when there’s a screeching sound from somewhere, and then the baritone voice of one of my men. Before I can go check it out, several of my men, as well as Adrian’s, draw their weapons, preparing for whatever’s to come.
A few seconds later, Camilla comes stalking toward me with Xavier, one of my guards, chasing after her. “You can’t go in there,” he barks, but she ignores him, her focus only on me. Her eyes are red-rimmed and her cheeks are stained with tears. I’m so concerned about her, I forget what’s happening behind me, until her gaze darts to the men with their weapons aimed at her.
“Oh my God!” She shrieks. “What’s going on?” She raises her hands, her eyes filled with fear, and the men all stand down, putting their weapons away.
“Sir,” Xavier says, no doubt about to explain how he let a woman half his size get past him and interrupt my meeting. We’ll be having words later.
“Camilla, what’s wrong?” I ask, walking over to her. “Why were you crying?” I lift my hand to wipe a tear that’s resting on the top of her cheek, but she moves out of my touch, her eyes landing on the merchandise.
“Forget me,” she says. “What’s going on?” Her hands go to her hips, and she juts her chin out in defiance—if it weren’t for her walking in on something she wasn’t supposed to see, I would be laughing at how adorably stubborn she looks right now. “Are those all guns?”
There’s a throat clearing and then Noah steps forward. “Let’s go upstairs while Isaac finishes, and then he can speak to you afterward.” His hand comes down on her shoulder, but she dodges him.
“No, tell me what’s happening here.” Her eyes dart back and forth between me and the vehicle that’s housing a few dozen illegal firearms.
“I take it this is your girlfriend,” Adrian says, breaking through the tension that’s surrounding us.
“I am,” she says slowly, turning her attention on him. “But if someone doesn’t tell me what the hell is going on, that might be changing.”
“Cam,” I growl under my breath. She has no idea who she’s speaking to like that.
Luckily, Adrian chuckles. “Go, my friend.” He pats me on the shoulder. “I know a thing or two about a pissed off woman.” He winks at me, and I sigh in relief that he’s a married man. “Everything looks good. We will speak soon.”
“Thank you.” I shake his hand, then give Noah a quick look. He nods once, letting me know he’ll finish up so I can speak to Camilla. Adrian is one of my biggest customers, and I’m always present for our exchanges. When someone spends millions of dollars a year with you, you make it a point to handle it personally—and you don’t piss them off.
“Let’s go,” I say to Camilla, grabbing her hip hard enough that she understands I mean business, but not too hard that it hurts her. I guide us outside, glaring at my guard, who looks a mixture of pissed and scared. As he should be. Camilla is maybe one-thirty soaking wet. There’s no reason she should’ve been able to get past him.
God knows what could’ve happened had I been with someone not as understanding as Adrian. I should’ve made it clear to her how my life works, but I’ve been too busy getting lost in her, in our own little bubble. She could’ve been seriously hurt, if not killed. Men in my world don’t fuck around. They shoot first and deal with the fallout later.
By the time we get upstairs, I’m so worked up at Camilla for putting herself in harm’s way, the moment we’re through the door, I have her backed up against a wall with my body caging her in.
“Do you have any idea what could’ve happened?” Our bodies are close, but far enough away, I can look her in the eyes. “You could’ve been shot. I told you I would meet you when I was done.”
“I’m sorry. I needed to talk to you.” Her voice is small, filled with emotion and regret, and it hits me like a ton of bricks. This is my fault. I’ve never had someone serious in my life. Someone who needs to know everything. She might’ve put herself in harm’s way, but it was only because she doesn’t understand how my world works—because I’ve yet to open up to her about it.
“Xavier told you not to go into the warehouse,” I say with a softer voice. “Next time, you need to listen.” I close my eyes and burrow my face into the crook of her neck, inhaling her sweet scent, thankful she’s okay and safe. If something had happened to her… fuck, I don’t even want to think about that.
“Why were you giving that man all those guns?” she asks. “Is it true, then? Are you a criminal?”
My hackles rise at her accusation. “Where the hell did you hear that?”
“I asked you a question first.” She pushes me back slightly and crosses her arms over her chest. “Are you a criminal?”
I sigh and take her hand, pulling her over to the couch. “Did someone tell you I’m a criminal?”
“It’s been said in gossip, and when I told my dad about you, he said to be careful because you were involved in illegal activity and he didn’t want me to get hurt.”
I raise a brow. “And yet, you’re still here.”
“Because I didn’t believe whatever you were doing would hurt someone else. But then I walk into your warehouse and have a dozen guns aimed at me, men are loading what looked like illegal weapons, and you’re speaking to a man who I’m almost positive has a Russian accent. Are you like in the mafia or something? Aren’t you Armenian? Is that the mob?”
I chuckle in amusement at her innocence. “That’s a hell of a lot of stereotyping. Yes, my father was Armenian, and my mother was Brazilian, but no, I’m not in the mob or mafia, and neither is that Russian man you saw.”
“Then tell me what I walked into.”
“First, tell me why you were crying.” I pull her into my lap. She’s reluctant at first, but quickly gives in, because even when she’s upset, she likes it when we’re touching.
“My dad called and asked me not to come see him tomorrow. He said he won’t be available. When I told him that’s perfect because I’ll actually be going to visit him today, he asked me not to come. He gave me some stupid reason and I knew something was wrong. I refused to accept his excuse and he finally gave in and told me he was beat up. He said he’s okay, but his face is black and blue and he didn’t want me to worry.”
Fresh tears fill her eyes. “I didn’t think stuff like that happened there. I mean, it has a golf course and a tennis court.” A tear slides down her cheek and I catch it with my thumb.
“Anything can happen anywhere.” The question is, who’s responsible? That’s what’s important. Fights happen all the time in prison, but in a federal prison it’s less, and they only happen for a reason. I don’t mention that to her, though. I’m planning to speak to her father today anyway, so I’ll ask him then.
“Did he say you can visit?”
“I am,” she says. “He tried to argue, but I told him there’s no way I’m not seeing for myself he’s okay.”
“Good. We’ll leave soon. Have you packed?”
She backs up slightly, shooting daggers my way. “Don’t think you’re getting out of telling me what I walked in on. I’m so sick of everyone keeping me in the dark. You know that’s a hard limit for me, especially after what happened with my dad. What’s going to happen next? I’ll come home one day and find out you’re going to prison too?” She swipes several tears that are falling. “I can’t do that. I can’t be in the dark. Either we’re together and I’m standing by your side, or we’re not.”
Fuck, this gorgeous, strong, stubborn woman.
“Of course we’re together.” I run the backs of my knuckles down her cheek. She means the world to me and I won’t lose her over secrets. “How about this? Let’s get on the road, so we can visit your dad and make our flight on time…” Technically we can leave whenever the hell we want. It’s my company’s plane. But I want to arrive on time, since our time is limited. “We can talk on the plane.”
She looks like she wants to argue, but instead nods and climbs off me. “Fine, but don’t think I don’t notice you’re pushing to have this conversation during our twelve-hour flight on our way to another country, where I can’t escape.” She quirks a single brow and glares before traipsing down the hall.
* * *
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Camilla asks her father for the dozenth time since we arrived and she saw the black eye and busted lip he’s sporting. With only the patience of a father, he nods and tells her again that he’s fine.
The guard announces we have ten minutes, and I place my hand on Camilla’s leg to get her attention. “Can you do me a favor? Can you give your father and me a few minutes to talk alone?”
She huffs, glancing from me to her father and back to me again. “I don’t like being in the dark.”
“I know, but there’s something I would like to speak to him privately about.”
“That you can’t say in front of me? No.” She shakes her head. “Whatever you guys need to talk about, I want to hear.”
“Cam…” I groan.
“No,” she insists. “We’re together.”
I curse under my breath at her stubbornness. I both love and hate it, and right now I really fucking hate it. But fuck it. She wants to know… fine.
“Okay.” I turn my attention on her dad. “I’m in love with your daughter. I fell for her the first moment I saw her and I’ve been falling every day since. I know to some, it might seem like it’s too soon, but she’s the one for me, and I’d like your permission and blessing to ask Camilla to marry me.”
Camilla gasps, her hands flying up to her mouth, and her dad snickers. “I-I didn’t… know…” she stutters.
“No shit,” I say dryly, mock glaring at Camilla. “That’s how it works. The man asks permission before he proposes.”
She groans, dropping her face into her hands, muttering something that sounds like, “Kill me now.”
I reach for her face, not caring that we’re in front of her father, and tip her chin up. “You can’t die.” I give her a chaste kiss on her lips. “I’d miss you too damn much. Even your stubbornness.”
Daniel chuckles, and I turn my attention back on him. “It’s clear from our short visit today how much you two love each other, and while I hate that this is being done from inside prison, I’m grateful my daughter has you to protect and love her.” His eyes gloss over, and I feel for him. Having to watch his daughter from behind bars, only seeing her once a week for an hour. And all while knowing he doesn’t deserve to be here. “You have my permission and blessing to marry my daughter.”
“Dad,” she chokes out, shaking her head. I pull her into my side and kiss her temple, vowing to make this shit right. “I can’t do this…”
He reaches across the table and takes his daughter’s hand in his own. “Yes, you can, Cam. It would break my heart for you to stop living your life because I can’t live mine. I live for seeing you every week, hearing about your life, and it’s been killing me inside to see you so unhappy and hurting and struggling. Last week, when you walked through the door, I could tell something was different, and when you told me you’ve met a man, I could tell it was love. The way your face lit up reminded me so much of your mother.”
He smiles softly. “You have no idea how happy it makes me to know you’re safe and protected and being loved.” He looks at me. “Thank you.”
The guard lets us know our time is up and Daniel envelops his daughter into a tight hug, telling her how much he loves her and to have a good birthday. When they’re done, he extends his hand, then pulls me into a half hug. “Take care of her, please. James is—”
“I know,” I tell him, not needing him to explain. “I got her.” I back up and look into his eyes, hoping to silently convey what I want to say to him but can’t. I’ll kill anyone who fucking tries to hurt her.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CAMILLA
Isaac asked my father’s permission to marry me. He wants to marry me. In the visitor room of the federal prison, he told him he loves me. I’ve been in shock ever since, having no idea what to say or think or feel.
Isaac’s been giving me space, focusing on his phone instead of me, and once we arrived at the airport and boarded his lavish company jet, he’s been talking with Noah about work-related stuff. The entire time I keep replaying what happened in my head. It feels as though my life has become a whirlwind of emotions and I can’t keep up.
He loves me. He wants to marry me. This shouldn’t surprise me. I mean, he’s flat out said I’m his and he has every intention of knocking me up. But love…
Noah’s phone rings, since apparently the plane has full service, and he excuses himself to take the call. The second he’s out of earshot, and Isaac looks my way, I blurt the first thing that comes to mind.
“You can’t possibly love me!”
He doesn’t react to my outburst. He closes his laptop and sets it, along with his phone, on the table, then turns to face me, since we’re sitting on the same couch.
“I do love you,” he says matter-of-factly.
“You can’t. It’s too soon.”
I was with James for months and neither of us ever spoke those words. And looking back, I now know why. It wasn’t love. What we had was wrong and fake and so stupid.
But Isaac… He’s right and perfect and—
“A heart doesn’t know time,” he says, pulling me into his lap like he always does, making me instantly relax. I don’t know why, but when he’s holding me or touching me, my entire body goes calm. “It knows what it feels.” He places his palm against my chest, right over the area where my heart is. “I’ve felt it since I saw you coming out of that building, in that black dress, with your hair down around your shoulders, walking toward the limo. My heart clenched tighter, pumped harder, it beat faster, and I knew you were the woman I was going to spend my life with. I love you, Camilla Hutchinson, and I will show you how much every single day for the rest of our lives.”
His words of admission have my head spinning, because what he described, I felt it too… I still do. Every kiss, every touch, I feel what he feels, but that can’t mean… “I… I don’t know…” I’m trying to form the right words, but they’re not coming to me.
“Shh, it’s okay.” He presses two fingers to my mouth. “You don’t need to say anything back. I’ll be right here loving you until the day comes when your head catches up to what your heart already knows… that you love me too.” He hits me with a lopsided grin that causes butterflies to explode in my belly, and I know what he’s saying is true.
“My head has already caught up to my heart,” I tell him, encircling my arms around his neck. “You love me… and I love you. And what we have is so rare, it’s almost hard to believe. My feelings came on so fast and hard that you’re right, sometimes I think this can’t be real…”
“But it is,” he says with conviction in his tone. “Our love is real. I love you.”
“I love you too,” I say back without thought, making him grin like a crazy person.
“Say it again.”
“I love you.”
His mouth attacks mine and my body goes warm, my insides tingling. I tighten my hold on him and am about to suggest we take this to the bedroom, when a door opens and I see Noah in my peripheral vision walking out.
I pull back, about to slide off Isaac, but he grips my hips tighter and lifts me. “I suggest you use noise canceling headphones,” he calls out to Noah as he carries me toward the back of the plane. “My girl just told me she loves me, so it’s about to get loud in here.”
I half-groan, half-laugh at him in embarrassment, but I’m too happy, too in love to really care.
