“Ah, I see what this is about.” Nigel grinned and nodded. “You miss Allison. Granted, she is a lovely girl. Cheers, Trev. Very pleased for you.”
Paolo’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Tette?”
“Hold your horses,” Nigel said.
Trevor jerked his arm from his father’s grasp. “I don’t know what you’re on about.”
“You and Allison, Son. You’ve finally got hit by Cupid’s arrow, eh? Love is a beautiful thing.”
Trevor’s face became void of emotion. “I’m leaving.” He strode out of the bar, through the casino. The laughter, chatter, and sounds of slot machines faded into the background. Nigel was clearly a mental case. Trevor wasn’t in love with Allie. He didn’t believe in it—silly, sloppy emotion. Just another word for wanting to shag someone. And that’s what he wanted to do with her, shag. That was all. She was just a girl, really. A beautiful girl with an amazing smile and a spectacular pair of tette, but just a girl.
He rubbed his chest as he stalked out of the casino. He didn’t love Allie. Period.
Chapter 20
Allie kicked off her shoes and made her way up the stairs. Tonight had been exhausting. Mags was a handful, but add Pixie into the mix, and they became unhinged. Karen was a quiet, dark cloud who would have cast a pall over the evening if Mags and Pix hadn’t been so enamored of their waiter—a young student named Matt. They fawned over him, quizzed him about his girlfriends, and Pix groped his ass. The sake had gone straight to her libido. Paolo had better be up for the challenge.
Allie went to her own room first, a little disappointed that Trevor wasn’t already naked and in bed, waiting for her. She tugged off her dress and slipped into a sexy nightgown and robe before she headed to Trevor’s room.
When she heard the shower running, she stepped into the bathroom. A wet room with no doors, her view was unhampered. He stood facing her, his head tossed back, his eyes closed as streams of water ran over his broad shoulders, down his muscled chest to his lean hips. His legs stood slightly apart, his cock jutted out, long and hard. Allie grew damp and aroused just watching him.
His gray eyes popped open. Her heart thundered at the sight of naked, beautiful Trevor.
“Come here.” He held out his hand to her.
Entranced, she untied the knot on her robe and slipped it off. Her nipples hardened as his eyes raked her body. Slowly, she brushed the straps from her lacy nightgown down her shoulders and let it flutter to the floor.
Trevor’s chest heaved as he took her in, his gaze lingering on her breasts. His stormy gray eyes traveled to her face. “Allison.” His voice, deeper and huskier than usual, shot a bolt of desire right through her.
Without hesitating one more second, she walked toward him. He scooped her up, pressing her back against the wall, and kissed her. The warm cascade of water hit her from all sides, and soon she was slick with it.
Wrapping her legs around his waist, Allie kissed him back, bit his lip, sucked his tongue, thrust her own in his mouth as she grabbed a handful of his sopping hair. She pulled back and looked into his eyes. His eyelashes, even darker when wet, spiked together and framed his fierce eyes.
“I don’t love you,” he said through clenched teeth. “Do you understand? I don’t love anyone.” He thrust inside her, hot and hard. His fingers dug into her hips as he ground himself into her. “Allison, oh God, Allison.” With each thrust, he chanted in her ear.
Allie buried her face in his neck, her tears mingling with the water.
***
She awoke in his bed the next morning. She knew without having to look that he was gone. After his declaration of unlove, he’d finished inside her. It was the first time they hadn’t used a condom. Then, carefully, as if she might break with the slightest pressure, he dried her off and carried her to bed. Not a word was spoken between them as he curled his body around hers, one hand holding her breast, his leg thrown possessively over her own.
He didn’t speak in the middle of the night when he stroked her body to orgasm before sliding into her. Nor earlier in the morning, when he woke her by flipping her over and burying himself inside her as he leisurely fucked her senseless.
Now she lay in sheets that smelled like him, a clean, crisp scent that made her grab his pillow and inhale deeply. When she realized how pathetic she was, she tossed the pillow aside and sat up.
Plunging her hands through her long, still-damp tangles of hair, she sighed. He didn’t love her. Why did he say it? Did he suspect her feelings? Had she revealed herself somehow? Oh God, how humiliating.
With a hurting heart, she climbed out of bed. Her nightgown and robe had been folded on the small bench at the end of Trevor’s carved bed. She quickly dressed and went to her room to take a shower.
Allie stepped into the en suite, and as she shrugged out of the robe and nightgown, the outer door clicked. With a towel clutched to her chest, she poked her head out of the bathroom. Trevor stood, dressed in a dark, expensive suit, a bright blue tie perfectly knotted at his throat. Hands thrust in his pockets, he leaned his back against the door.
“I went to my room, but you were gone. How are you this morning?”
Her fingers tightened on the towel. What was he really asking? If she understood that he didn’t love her, didn’t care about her, that it was still just about sex? Or did he really want to know how she felt this morning? All the progress they’d made over the last few weeks, all the closeness had fallen away, and she was back to square one. A fuck toy.
She shrugged. “Fine.” Her eyes rose to meet his.
“Good.”
They stood in silence for some moments. “I’m going to get a shower,” she said, biting her lip to keep herself from bursting into tears.
“Yes, of course. I’ll get out of your way.” He was acting weird and formal.
When he left, she sank to the cold, tiled floor and sobbed. She cried until she didn’t have any tears left, then attempted to pull herself together.
After she’d showered and dressed, Allie crept downstairs, hoping like hell she didn’t run into Trevor again. She couldn’t handle the awkward tension between them. And she was determined not to fall apart in front of him.
Once she was in the foyer, she heard voices raised in the drawing room. Allie ran toward the commotion and met Frances running through the hall from the opposite direction. Together, they stood in the doorway and watched Mags storm around the room.
“I can’t believe you, Nigel. You are unbelievable.” There were no darlings, dearests, or sweets to punctuate her sentence. She must really be angry. And she was repeating herself.
“Darling, I don’t see what the problem is.” Nigel stood next to the drinks cart, a quizzical look on his face. He watched her roam about the room.
Mags, her agitation growing by the minute, began walking faster and waved her hands over her head, like Mussolini. “Of course you don’t, you stupid git.”
“Watch yourself, love.” He wagged a finger.
Mags threw her head back and laughed. “Watch myself. You should watch yourself, you bastard.”
“I’ll not put up with your name calling, my dear.” Nigel crossed his arms, and his face took on the same cold, expressionless mask that Trevor assumed when he became angry.
“I’m not your dear. How dare you invite that woman to my wedding?”
“We’re mates now, love, that’s all.” Nigel held up his hands in a pleading gesture. “Please be reasonable about this.”
All of the fire seeped out of her and her body, rigid with anger a moment before, became relaxed. “Reasonable?” She raised a brow. “How’s this for reasonable?” She picked up a small bronze statue of a goddess and hurled it at Nigel’s head.
He shifted to the side, narrowly escaping the projectile. “Now, Mags, that was Aphrodite. Not the thing, ducks.”