The Casanova (The Miles High Club #3)(120)

“Yes, you are.” He stands. “It’s all bullshit. All along I thought I had to have signs. I thought that my gut would lead me to my soulmate.”

Oh . . . this man hurts me. I drop my head, unable to look at him.

“Kate, we hated each other for years.” He takes my face in his hand and he dusts his thumb back and forth over my bottom lip. “You can’t blame me for wondering if it was the real thing, or simply a physical attraction. You had to have had the same concerns.”

My heart drops.

Never once.

I force a nod; I just want this conversation over.

He falls to his knees in front of me again and looks up. “I love you.” He kisses me softly. “We can fix this. We can start again, and this time we know it’s the real thing. Nobody makes me feel like you do, Kate.”

More lies.

I pull back from his kiss. “I need a shower.”

He smiles as he holds me in his arms. “Yes, let’s take a shower.”

“Elliot, I’ve had the worst day in history and I’m tired. Can we talk about this tomorrow, please?”

“Okay.” He nods as he pulls me to my feet. “You’re right, we have all the time in the world.”

He leads me into the bathroom and turns the shower on. He slowly undresses me and I get in under the water.

I shower in a daze, somewhere between heartache and relief.

Now, I know.

I get out and he dries me with a towel as he showers me in kisses. “Thank God, you’re here,” he whispers. “I thought I lost you.”

I stare at him in a detached state: is he for real?

He thinks he can say a few pretty words and all is well between us?

I feel nothing . . . I’m dead inside. It’s like I’m talking to a stranger, one that I don’t even like.

Whatever we had is gone.

We get into his bed and our lips touch; his kiss deepens and I pull out of it. “Tomorrow, babe,” I whisper. “I’m not in the mood tonight. Honestly, I’m just too emotionally exhausted.”

“Okay.” He reaches over and turns the bedside light off and snuggles in behind me, his arms around me, his lips at my temple.

“I love you, Kate,” he whispers.

“I love you too,” I whisper back. We lie in the darkness, so physically close and yet I’ve never felt so alone.

If he knew me at all, he would know that.

A tear rolls down my face in the darkness; it’s hot and salty and feels a lot like betrayal.

Elliot Miles isn’t the only one who wanted a fairy-tale ending.

I did too.

And sadly, I know this isn’t it.





Chapter 25


ELLIOT

I wake with a start, a bang in the distance.

I look over to Kate, but I’m in bed alone. I sit up. “Kate,” I call.

Is she in the bathroom?

“Kate?”

I get up and walk to the bathroom, it’s empty. Panic floods through me and I flick the light on. “Kate,” I yell as I look around. “Where are you?”

I march into the living room. “Kate,” I cry with urgency. “Kathryn.” I look around, where’s her handbag?

Her bag is gone.

No.

I run from room to room, screaming her name as my heart races.

She’s not here.

I dial her number, it rings out. I dial it again and it’s switched off.

Anger surges through me and I kick the wall.

I dial security. “Yes sir.”

“Where’s Kate?” I growl.

“Um . . . she’s with you . . . isn’t she?”

“Explain to me . . . how the fuck she got out of here unnoticed,” I yell.

“I don’t understand, sir, we’ve been on the doors all night.”

“You’re fucking useless,” I cry. “Find her!” I hang up and begin to pace back and forth, my chest rising and falling as I grapple for control.

I go to the window and look down over the street.

“Kate,” I whisper. “Where are you?”

I sit in the back of the car and dial Kate’s number; it goes straight to voicemail.

I inhale sharply—I’ve searched for her all night. She simply disappeared into thin air.

Not a trace.

She hasn’t gone home, her phone is off.

“This is the house sir.”

I peer in. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, this is her brother’s house. We dropped her bag off here as she requested.”

I get out of the car and march up to the front door, knock hard, and it opens in a rush. A young man comes into view, early thirties.

“Hello, I’m Elliot Miles—”

“I know who you are.”

“Can I see her?”

“She’s not here.”

“I need to—”

“You’ve done enough,” he snaps, goes to close the door, and I put my hand up to block it, push it open, and barge my way in. “Kate,” I yell. “I know you’re here.”

“You’re too late. She’s gone.” He sighs.

“Where?”

“She flew out first thing this morning.”