Love Beyond Words (City Lights, #1)(23)



Natalie sat back in her seat, her hands twisting in her lap.

“What?” Julian demanded into the phone by way of greeting and then listened for a moment, his beautiful features twisted by irritation. “What? Why would they think…?” She saw him glance at her, and then he turned away, lowering his voice. “Yes, of course it’s my charge. This is ridiculous.”

Natalie’s stomach twisted, feeling certain Julian and his assistant were talking about her. She quickly turned her gaze on the quiet street. Today…it had been so perfect.

“Authorize it, David,” Julian snapped into the phone, angry now. “Authorize it.” He hung up and sat with the phone turning over and over in his hands, his expression stony, his voice tight. “Natalie, I’m so sorry. This isn’t how I wanted today to end, I promise you.”

She forced a tremulous smile. “It’s okay.” Her fingers blundered over the door handle. “I understand,” she added, though nothing could be further from the truth.

“No, Natalie, wait—”

“I should go,” Natalie opened the door. “Maybe we’re not ready yet…or I don’t know. Thank you for the lovely lunch and…for everything,” she managed before tears choked her completely, and got out of the car, fumbled her keys into her own door and disappeared behind it without looking back.

Upstairs, in her empty place, she stared about vacantly. She worried that she had overreacted by getting out of the car; but she couldn’t withstand the crushing confusion a moment more, not when things between her and Julian had seemed to be progressing—finally—toward something more. His kiss, his magnificent kiss, was like a promise that her loneliness was over; a bright and shining gift dangled before her and then vanishing the moment she touched it.

Below, she heard the angry squeal of tires on concrete, and the roar of a high-powered engine that quickly grew distant and faded away. She touched her fingertips to her lips, where Julian’s mouth had swept over hers so sweetly, one question turning over and over in her mind.

Why had it all gone wrong?





Chapter Ten


With a satisfied smile, David Thompson pushed “end” and dropped his cell phone into his jacket pocket. He got out of his car and jogged to the elevator, pushing his brown flyaway hair out of his eyes, his footsteps echoed hollowly in the cavern of concrete of the underground lot. He keyed in a security code that allowed the elevator to take him up, past the lobby, to the residences. At the fifteenth floor, he keyed in another security code that granted him access to Julian Kova?’s penthouse apartment and stepped inside. A cold, gray light illuminated the living area, ushered in from the immense windows that overlooked the city and bay. The sky was leaden. He flipped on a light.

The apartment was stark. Elegant. Cold. Just as David liked it. No sign of the holidays anywhere to ruin the perfect, stylish aesthetic. Why bother with tacky decorations, David had hinted carefully to Julian, when he would be alone?

But Julian had countered that by taking that Natalie woman out. She hadn’t any family and Julian didn’t want her to be alone. What about me? David thought. He’s my family; my true family. After six years you’d think he’d realize that. But lately, Julian’s thoughts revolved only around Natalie Hewitt.

David’s ulcer had flared on that summer night last August when Julian confided in him about the coffee shop in the Sunset District and the girl behind the counter. Julian had discovered what he thought might be the perfect place to write his next book, but it was clearly the girl he was intent on. When he began going to that café four or five days a week, the acidic burn in David’s gut burrowed deeper—the same sort of anxiety he’d had when Julian brought his last girlfriend, Samantha, home for the first time.

But this was worse.

Julian hadn’t spoken about Samantha in the same way, or as warmly as he talked about this Natalie woman. He hadn’t worn strange, funny smiles, or tuned out of conversations with faraway expressions on his face. Over the last few months, David had done his best to subtly caution Julian not to get involved, to remember the disaster that Samantha had turned out to be. But time and again Julian said, “I think this could be different,” in a soft, blissful way that made David very nervous.

Now Julian was on a date with the girl. The fact that it had taken him nearly five months to arrive at that event was David’s sole consolation. That and an ill-timed phone call or two. A small triumph, but it was time to get down to the serious business.

He went to his office off the hallway behind the kitchen, and turned on more lights and the computer. He thought about brewing coffee, but decided he wouldn’t stay long enough to need it; his true purpose for being there wouldn’t take but a moment. His gut twisted at the notion as it had every month for the last eight months. And again, he had to quell the queasiness by reminding himself that there was no other way to keep Julian safe.

No other way.

David checked the security console. There was one mounted in every major room of the apartment. Above the keypad were three lights, two of which were dark. The third light shone orange. It meant the system was armed but someone authorized—himself—was in the residence. It would flash red when someone approached the front door and then green if they had the code. No other lights came on; he was alone. At the computer, he opened up Julian’s bank accounts and investment holdings, keyed in usernames and passwords. He dragged the screens so that they were side-by-side, their activity and totals all before him.

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