Deciding to make the most of her trip despite the unsettling shift between them, she looked out the window as their taxi wove its way through traffic. New York was loud and busy, completely unlike the quiet beauty of Wilmington. Everywhere she looked there was asphalt and rushing pedestrians and flashing lights. Sirens and shouting. She wondered how Alec got any writing done here, even in his apartment. How did people breathe here?
The taxi pulled to the curb of a massive structure where doormen were waiting to be needed and concrete lion statues perched at the entrance. The building looked old and pristine among the chaos of the city.
“This is it,” Alec said, as if asking approval.
Unsure of what to say, because this apartment didn’t seem to suit him any more than the city, she forced a smile and made to exit the car. Alec grabbed their bags and nodded to the doormen, who addressed him by name.
Inside the lobby, which was full of white marble and brass, she followed Alec to a bank of chrome and glass elevators and waited. He had yet to make eye contact. The ride upstairs was just as tense as in the cab, and by the time they stepped off the elevator to the door of his penthouse, Faith was ready to catch a flight home.
Though she didn’t know him all that well, and though they had just arrived, Alec seemed like a different person here. Tense and abrasive. Not at all like the laid-back, gentle man she knew in Wilmington. She wondered if this was how he wrote about such darkness, by living in this place and feeding off its energy. He’d written countless bestsellers, after all. Something besides his gift had to fuel the stories.
He set their bags down and unlocked the door. “Listen, I have to warn you. I made a terrible choice in interior decorators a while back.”
She stepped into the foyer. “I’m sure it’s not that . . . bad.”
It was that bad. No, it was worse.
The walls were dark gray. The leather furniture red. And was that a . . . yes. A life-sized sculpture of a claw. Glass-top tables and horror movie posters.
“Wow,” she whispered.
Alec dropped their bags by an entry table and groaned. “I warned you.” He glanced around, as if trying to see it through her eyes. “It’s nightmarish all right. I keep intending to have it fixed.”
“Can it be fixed?”
He laughed. “I’ll call someone after Jake’s wedding.”
After the wedding. When he’d be moving back.
She shook her head and forced the unpleasant thoughts away.
To her left was the kitchen. Pretty spacious, considering. Black appliances, granite counters. To the right was a short hallway with three doors.
“Come on,” Alec said. “I’ll give you the grand tour.”
The office was clean and sensibly organized. Surprising, because she figured most authors had Post-it Notes and clutter. A plush corduroy sofa lined one wall. Several bookshelves stood against the other. Under the window and facing the door was a large L-shaped desk made out of what looked like mahogany. She didn’t get a good look at any of his pictures because Alec was already moving on to the next room.
“Bathroom,” he pointed out, striding past. “And this is the bedroom.”
At his insistence, she stepped inside. Hardwood floors. Four-poster bed. Private bathroom. The walls were a smoky blue, darn near close to his eye color. The curtains and bedspread were a navy striped pattern. This room suited him. Masculine and easygoing.
She walked to the bay window and looked out at the view. Thirty floors below them, the city bustled and jived, but this high up they were above the noise. Part of her unease settled and released from her shoulders.
Alec came up behind her and set his hands on her hips, pulling her back flush with his chest. His lips settled over her ear, causing her to shiver.
Inhaling, he moaned. “I couldn’t wait to get you alone. It’s been hard keeping my hands to myself.”
She curled into him like a cat. It felt like forever since he’d touched her. The heat from his body and the scent of him caused her heart to flutter. Her breathing uneven, she made herself ask, “Why did you keep your hands to yourself?”
“I wanted to give it a little time. You’re not the kind of woman I’m used to, Faith.”
She couldn’t tell if that was a compliment or an insult. She wondered what he saw in her at all, besides convenience. Did she have anything in common with his other affairs?
She settled on a ploy of humor. “What did the other women you were with think of your apartment? Were they a little scared of the decorating, too?”
His fingers dug into her hips. “I’ve never brought a woman here. You’re the first.”
Her heart pounded against her ribs. Turning in his arms, she looked at him. “No one?”
“No one. Trust issues.” He shrugged. “You’re the only woman I’ve met in ten years who seems to want me for me.”
How . . . sad. Didn’t people realize a soul-deep connection was ten times more powerful than money and fame? She’d take her new friends and contentment over all the money in New York any day.
Alec leaned in and brushed his lips over hers. “I want to make love to you in that bed. Been thinking about it nonstop since we got to the airport.” Easing back, he smiled. “But I should show you around the city before the party. We’ll never get out of here if we start now.”
Okay. Wow. A resounding ping of happiness hit her square between the eyes. Just an hour ago she was wondering what had happened between them. But now he’d just told her what he wanted, and it was her. Alec still found her attractive.
She would rather stay here in his arms, in the bed they had yet to climb into, than head out and see the sites, but there would be time for that tonight. A little tease to get him excited about their own after-party couldn’t hurt, though. Maybe saying something sexy would keep his mind on her. “Lacey helped me pick out some panties to wear under my dress. I can’t wait for you to take them off.”
He sucked in a breath, and with narrowed eyes trailed his gaze down the length of her as if trying to imagine the details. With a groan, he kissed her deep, pulling her against him and pressing his pelvis into her belly. “What color?” he asked, nipping her lower lip.
Locking her knees to stay upright, she looked into his gray-blue eyes, relieved to see unadulterated want in them. “You’ll have to wait to find out.”
Verbal foreplay didn’t come naturally to her, but she found she liked it. Liked the effect it seemed to have on him. Grabbing her bottom, he squeezed and let go before taking two steps backward and shoving his hands in his pockets.
Watching her mouth, he asked, “Where would you like to go? In the city, I mean. As a tourist.”
She smiled at the nervous tone of his voice, relieved he was unnerved, too. “Where would you suggest?”
He glanced at the bed and sighed. “Statue of Liberty? The Guggenheim? Empire State Building?”
“What about the 9/11 Memorial? Can we do that first?”
He rocked back on his heels. “Sure. I know a great Jewish deli not far from there for lunch.” He held out his hand. “Come on.”
chapter
sixteen
Alec had been surprised by Faith’s request to visit the 9/11 Memorial, but he shouldn’t have been. Someone like her would want to pay homage to the lives lost and pay her respects. That was just the way she was built. Sure, she’d have an interest in fine art or other attractions—she’d be interested in anything—but it said a lot about her that she wanted her first stop to be a place of such terrible loss.