Finding Him: Second Chance Billionaire Romance (Finding Love Book 1), page 28
“I don’t know why you’re telling me this.”
“In the hope that you’ll understand things a little better.”
Nothing he can say will make this okay. Even if their relationship was just one of convenience, they were still married. He didn’t just deceive my mum; he betrayed his wife as well. That is inexcusable.
He lets out a long breath before continuing. “This is going to sound completely shallow, but our marriage was more of a business arrangement. I was young and very career driven when I met her. She pursued me, God only knows why, but she was relentless. Even back then she was a master manipulator and she stopped at nothing to get what she wanted.”
“You still married her though.”
“Only because I loved my job. Her brother was my boss, and she made me feel like I didn’t have a choice.” He pauses for a moment. “My life was quite miserable until I met your mother. Please believe me when I say, I never planned on deceiving her. I fought my attraction to her for as long as I could.” A smile spreads across his face before he shakes his head. “Maree had the power to leave me breathless. She was an absolute stunner, but it was her inner beauty that captivated me the most. She was like a breath of fresh air … I’d never met anyone like her.”
I see Jill enter the room out of the corner of my eye. After placing the cup of coffee in front of me, she makes a hasty retreat.
“Right from the very beginning, I was utterly mesmerised. That’s why I never mentioned my relationship with Kathleen—I was afraid she wouldn’t understand. It was wrong of me, and completely selfish, but I didn’t want to lose her. The deeper I fell, the harder it became.” He pauses again before bowing his head. “I never knew a love so deep was possible, but I loved your mother with every fibre of my being.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Really?” Sarcasm lines my voice because the way he treated her, in the end at least, wasn’t with love.
“Can I show you something?”
I shrug. I can’t think of a single thing that would make any of this okay.
Reaching under the table to the chair beside him, he produces the wooden box I saw him holding last night when he arrived.
“I’ve held onto this box for twenty-seven years,” he says. “It was all I had left of her.” I sit up straighter in my chair as an uneasy feeling settles over me. I hold my breath as he removes the lid. The first thing he pulls out is a strip of photos, the kind from a photo booth. “These, apart from the one in my wallet, are the only images I have of her.”
He’s grinning as he looks down at them, but I can’t miss the sadness in his eyes. It reminds me of how my mum looked whenever she spoke of him.
He passes the photos to me, and immediately I’m overwhelmed with emotion. My mum looks so happy. There’s a sparkle in her eyes, one I don’t remember ever seeing.
“I miss her so much,” I whisper.
“I do too.” Something about his response warms my heart. Is it a sense of camaraderie I’m feeling? I thought I was the only one who felt her loss. “This is the watch she gave me for my birthday,” he says, reaching back into the box to retrieve it. “As you can see, I wore it to death.” He places the watch on the table, sliding it over to me. The band is broken, and the face has a crack across its centre. “I dropped it a few years ago, and it hasn’t worked since. I was going to get it fixed, I just haven’t gotten around to it. Read the inscription on the back.”
Turning it over, I see the engraving—I’ll love you till the end of time. Tears fill my eyes as I read her words to him.
“I think she did,” I admit.
“Did what?” he asks.
“Loved you until the very end.”
“Not a day has passed that I haven’t regretted all the things I said to her.” He reaches into the box again and pulls out a pile of letters. “After she left, I was lost. I couldn’t function for weeks. I wrote to her often, begging for her forgiveness and pleading for her to come back to me. Even years later, I still continued to write to her.” I hear his voice crack as he speaks. “I never gave up hope that one day I’d get to see her again and make amends for all that I’d done. I guess that’s why I held on to the letters.” He lifts one shoulder. “But know I’m thinking maybe I kept them for you … so you can see that everything I’m saying is genuine.” He places the letters back into the box and pushes it towards me. “I want you to have these. I hope you can find it in your heart to read the letters one day. There’s a few at the bottom that your mother wrote to me when we were together. If nothing else, it will allow you to see that what we had was real. We loved each other very much.” I see tears brimming in his eyes as he uses the table to help him stand. “I’ve missed out on almost twenty-six years of your life,” he says, and his bottom lip quivers as he struggles to hold himself together. “I’d hate to lose another second of my time with you.”
With that, he turns and heads towards the stairs. I just sit there dumbfounded as a myriad of emotions run through me.
I’m putting the finishing touches on my makeup when Logan appears in the doorway of the bathroom. I’m almost ready—all I need to do is slip into my dress. My hair is slicked back into a low bun since I didn’t have time to get it done professionally.
I watch him eye me from head to toe in the mirror. I’m dressed in skimpy black lace underwear.
“Fuck, baby,” he says, closing the distance between us and rubbing himself against me from behind. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Never.” I turn to face him, placing my flattened palms on his chest.
His fingers dance over my hips before his big strong hands move down to cup my arse. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
“If it’s anything like what you do to me, then yes.” I fist his tie in my hand as I speak.
“I have a good mind to cancel our plans for tonight and have my way with you now.”
“I don’t think so, Mr. Cavanagh. You promised me a night out, and that’s exactly what you’re going to give me. Besides, good things come to those who wait,” I say, placing a chaste kiss on his lips before slipping out of his embrace and stepping around him. “If you want to leave by six, you best jump in the shower.” His eyes are glued to my backside as I exit the bathroom. “And you better make it a cold one.” I’m grinning to myself when I hear him mumble something under his breath.
I lay Logan’s tuxedo out on the bed before re-entering the walk-in robe to slip into my black dress—the one he requested I wear. I’m smiling as I admire it in the mirror. The dress has an off-the-shoulder neckline with an intricate lace bodice and a full-length flowing satin skirt. It’s even more beautiful than I remember.
I’ve been in a strange mood all day: somewhat happy—lighter even—but still deeply confused. I haven’t been able to bring myself to read the letters John gave me this morning, but my opinion of him has definitely softened since our conversation. Too much has happened for us to ever share the close father/daughter bond I once yearned for, but hopefully one day we can have some kind of a relationship.
Walking towards the dresser, I reach for my favourite perfume and spray a small amount behind each ear and on my wrists.
I spin around when I hear Logan exit the bathroom, the towel is draped low on his hips and my eyes drink him in.
“Wow!” he says as a huge smile explodes onto his face. “Look at you.”
I spin, giving him a twirl. “You like?”
“I don’t just like, I love,” he replies, approaching me. “You look … breath-taking, but there’s something missing.”
“Huh?” I’m confused. He reaches around me to open the top drawer where he keeps his ties. He slides his hand towards the back before pulling out a large, square velvet box. “What’s this?” I ask.
“A gift, for you. Open it.”
My hands slightly tremble as I do what he asked. “Hot Stuff,” I gasp.
Inside is the most exquisite jewelled necklace I’ve ever seen. It reminds me of something that would adorn the neck of royalty.
“It’s a choker. The dark stones are black diamonds. I took a photo of the dress with my phone and gave it to my jeweller.”
“It’s beautiful,” I say, “but it’s too much. Way too much.”
“Turn around.” He removes the necklace from the box, unclasps it and slips it around my neck. “You deserve all the beautiful things,” he whispers into my ear. “I’d give you the world if only you’d let me.”
“I have no words,” I say as tears well in my eyes. Facing him, my fingers delicately run over the stones. “You don’t have to buy me beautiful things.”
He places his finger over my mouth. “I know. But I want to.”
“Do you know how much I love you?” I ask as my hand comes to rest on his cheek.
“I love you more.”
“I don’t think that’s possible,” I say with a smile.
“It is. I love you the most—the end, I win.”
“You don’t play fair,” I say, laughing.
“When it comes to you, my love, never.” He slides his hands around my waist, drawing me closer. When he runs his nose over the skin on my neck, he inhales deeply. “You smell just as delicious as you look.”
“It’s Opium.”
“Mm,” he hums, peppering kisses across my bare shoulder. “Like the drug? No wonder you’re so addictive. I’m going to be walking around with a hard-on all night, especially now that I know what you’re wearing under that dress.”
Chapter 44
Logan
“We’re heading out,” I say to John as we walk towards the lift.
He uses the side of the sofa to help himself stand as we approach. It pains me to see how much he has changed since that night. I’m hoping he continues to improve.
His face lights up as soon as his eyes move to Brooke. I know it’s hard for her with him here, but I really feel it’s best for them both. I want them to get to know each other. She needs a man like him in her life. I had the pleasure of growing up with him, and he was always such a positive influence on me.
“You look beautiful, sweetheart.”
“Thank you,” she says, and if I’m not mistaken, the smile she reciprocates is genuine.
Last night at dinner, all of her interactions with him seemed forced. Something has changed between them since then.
“I hope you two have a great night.”
Brooke hooks her arm through mine, and I can clearly see the love in her eyes as she looks up at me when she speaks.
“I still don’t know where he’s taking me, but I’m sure we will.”
“How comfortable are your shoes?” I ask as we step into the lift.
“They’re fine, why?”
“We are going to start off our evening at the Bennelong restaurant in the Opera House, I’ve booked us a table for dinner. I can drive, or we can walk, whatever you prefer.”
“Oh, we’re starting at the Opera House, so there’s more than one component to our evening?”
“Nice try,” I say, chuckling.
“You’re no fun.”
“I’m plenty of fun. Just wait until I get you back home and strip you out of that dress. Then you’ll see how fun I can be.”
Sometimes the depth of my feelings for her are so overwhelming they frighten me, but I refuse to let my mind go there tonight.
“Can we walk? It’s such a beautiful night.”
“Of course,” I say, placing a kiss on the top of her head.
All eyes are on my date as we walk hand-in-hand along the harbour-front. Surprisingly, the desire I see in the other guy’s faces as we pass doesn’t upset me in the slightest. I’ve changed since she came into my life. My ex robbed me of trust when she betrayed me as she did, but things are different now. I am proud to have Brooke on my arm, and I know with all certainty that she loves me just as much as I love her. I trust her implicitly.
Brooke’s eyes are everywhere when we enter the restaurant. “It’s so beautiful in here.”
The high cathedral ceilings that create the shape of the opera house sail, and the curved wooden beams that run parallel down each side of the interior, make it a spectacular sight. The large triangular windows adorning three sides, giving us a panoramic view of Sydney’s beautiful harbour, only enhance the space.
“I have a reservation for two, under Cavanagh,” I say to the maître d.’
“This way, sir.”
“You’re so lucky you get to see this kind of view every day,” Brooke says to me once we’re seated.
“You have the same view as me at the Penthouse.”
“I know, but you live there. Technically, I’m only staying with you.”
“We could always rectify that,” I say as the waitress lays the crisp white napkin across her lap. “You could officially move in.”
“Don’t you think it’s a little early in our relationship to be making such a huge commitment?”
I try to hide my disappointment, since that wasn’t the response I was hoping for.
“Normally, I’d say yes, but things are different with you.” I lift one of my shoulders. “When your heart knows, it just knows.”
Reaching across the table, she places her hand on top of mine, but says nothing. I decide to leave it at that. I don’t want to do or say anything that’s going to ruin this night for her.
“I still can’t believe you got tickets to the ballet,” Brooke says, bouncing on her feet, as we enter the Joan Sutherland Theatre.
“Best seats in the house too.”
I must remember to send some flowers to Claire as a thank you. We’re in private box seats, next to the stage, and the view from here is better than I anticipated.
“I’ve wanted to see a real-life ballet performance since I was a little girl. You have no idea what this means to me, Hot Stuff.”
Her arms slide around my waist, and although she’s smiling, there are tears brimming in her eyes. Seeing this reaction means everything.
I take my seat, but Brooke remains standing as she grasps the rail and looks around the theatre.
“It’s so beautiful in here.”
Her eyes are wide as she takes it all in, and the delight on her face reminds me of a small child in a candy store. It’s so endearing.
“You’re talented enough to perform here. Have you ever considered dancing professionally?”
“I entertained the idea for a while, but honestly, my passion is teaching. Dancing was my life when I was little, my escape from …” She bows her head but doesn’t finish her sentence. From what she’s told me about her upbringing, I’d say it was her escape from the loneliness she felt due to her somewhat absent mother or possibly the poverty. “If I could just give one little girl what I got out of dancing … I can’t even begin to tell you what that would mean to me.”
I reach forward and drag her onto my lap, placing a kiss on the side of her forehead, right beneath the scar on her hairline. It’s more visible tonight with her hair pulled back.
I blow out a long breath as images of that night flash through my mind.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m perfect,” I lie.
Brooke’s hands are trembling with excitement when the curtains finally open. I fucking love her purity, and how the smallest things mean so much to her. I barely watch any of the performance; I’m captivated watching her take it all in. She sits forward in her seat the entire time, and the smile on her face warms my heart. I even witnessed her wipe a tear from her eye on a few occasions.
It’s not until the intermission comes that she finally leans back in her chair.
“I take it you’re enjoying the show.”
“That’s the understatement of the year,” she says, making me chuckle. “It’s a dream come true.” I bring her hand to my mouth before placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. “When I was young, my dance troupe was invited to tour The Australian Ballet—like an excursion,” she says. “I was so excited when I took the note home to my mum, I thought I was going to burst.”
“That’s sweet. Was it everything you hoped?”
“I didn’t end up going,” she says, averting her gaze to her lap.
“Why not?”
“It was a tough time for my mother. Her car registration was due, and she needed new tyres. I understood because it was necessary for her livelihood; she couldn’t get to work without a vehicle.”
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugs her shoulders. “I knew my mum was disappointed we didn’t have the money, so I lied and told her I didn’t really want to go anyway. That night I cried myself to sleep. The truth was, I was utterly heartbroken.”
“Fuck, babe.”
My heart hurts for that little girl. Her life would’ve been so different if John had been present. The hardship she faced growing up helps me understand some of her resentment, and why letting him in is so hard for her.
As soon as the second half of the performance begins, Brooke slides to the edge of her seat, resting her chin on her forearms against the banister. Once again, I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s far more entertaining than anything that’s happening down on the stage.
When the ballet finally draws to an end, she jumps to her feet and applauds loudly. I’m so glad I could give her tonight. I knew she’d enjoy it, but I had no idea how much.
She’s quiet as we leave—I think she’s still trying to digest it all. That is, until we step out into the night air where she stretches her arms wide and turns in a circle. “I have no words for how incredible that was.” I chuckle at her theatrics.
I’m pretty sure I got more out of tonight than she did. “So, I did good?” I ask, pulling her into my arms.
“You did better than good. It was the best night ever.” Her flattened palms rest on my chest as she speaks. “Thank you for taking me to the ballet, and for dinner, my dress, my necklace … for everything. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you, but not a day passes where I’m not thankful for having you in my life.”
