Hudson never did tell her what had happened after he dropped her off at the penthouse, but whatever it was had been bad. Really bad. And knowing how Hudson felt about his brother, the responsibility he bore, she knew it was tearing him up inside. Was that what brought on his nightmare? The haunting image of him writhing as he fisted the sheets filled her mind. Allie had never witnessed a nightmare like that firsthand. It had been excruciating to watch him in so much pain, his legs tangled in the bedding, his face contorted, his chest heaving.
He wouldn’t talk about it in bed last night. No big surprise there. Hudson was always so guarded about his life, particularly his past, but Allie planned to bring it up the first chance she had. If they were going to build a life together, she wanted to be a part of all of it. The good and the bad. But more than that, she wanted to help him if she could. It was obvious from what she’d witnessed that he kept something buried deep inside, something that surfaced when he slept, gripping him when he was most vulnerable, when he had no control. She would do anything if it meant never seeing him in that kind of pain again. Anything.
At her apartment Allie quickly showered and changed into a chocolate-brown jersey dress, pairing it with the hoop earrings Hudson had once said caught the gold flecks in her hazel eyes. She left her hair in loose curls, just the way she knew he liked it, and at the last minute decided to leave her panties in the drawer. A shiver ran through her at the thought of his reaction when his questing fingers discovered her lack of lingerie.
Anxious to get to the penthouse, she grabbed a few outfits for work and threw them in a bag. She was halfway out the door when her phone rang. The screen read “private caller.” Hudson. Her lips curved into a wide smile as she answered the call. “Missing me?” she purred.
There was silence on the line, then a heavy exhale. “Oui, of course.”
“Julian?” She glanced at her watch, quickly adjusting for the time change. “What are you doing up so late? Isn’t it almost two in Paris?”
“I’m in Chicago. Actually, I’m stuck on the fucking Kennedy.”
“You’re back?” Her voice sounded much louder than she’d intended.
“My business concluded sooner than expected so I—how do you say?—caught a flight.”
Oh shit. She wasn’t expecting to have this conversation until next weekend. She needed time to prepare, time to sort out what she wanted to say. Maybe she could stall, at least buy herself one night.
“You must be exhausted. Get some sleep and we can meet for drinks after work tomorrow. The Peninsula, say six o’clock?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” There was a brief pause as he took a drag off his cigarette. “I told the driver to drop me at your apartment.”
She glanced around her apartment, but for what she had no idea. “How far out are you?”
“Je ne sais pas—fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. Sooner if these fucking imbeciles would learn to drive.”
What? The ride from O’Hare was always a nightmare. Just her luck tonight would be the exception.
“Great. I’ll see you then.” Allie tried to keep her voice light as she rushed him off the phone. She needed to collect herself. She needed to call Hudson. He was expecting her to meet him at his penthouse. Crap. This was not a conversation she wanted to have over the phone.
The call went to voice mail and Allie breathed a sigh of relief. She knew he would have pressed her for answers, and right now she just didn’t have the time. Hudson’s outgoing message was gruff, to the point, and for some bizarre reason, made her smile.
“Hi, it’s me. Um . . . Julian just called. He’s back in town and headed over here.” She paused, debating how much more to say, and then simply added, “I need to talk to him. I’ll call as soon as I can.”
***
When Julian arrived, he went straight to the kitchen to fix himself a drink. And if his bloodshot eyes were any indication, it wasn’t his first of the night. Or second, for that matter. If Allie had to guess, he’d probably had more than a few on the transatlantic flight. Had he always drank so much?
Glass in hand, he leaned against the counter, casting a leering glance down her body.
She felt her palms grow damp. There was no easy way to do this; might as well get it over with. “Julian . . .”
“Wait.” He strolled toward her, oozing arrogance. “Forgot one thing.” He leaned closer and the sour stench of alcohol mixed with the sweet scent of his cologne. Allie’s empty stomach churned. What had she ever seen in this man? Just as he was about to kiss her, she turned her head a fraction, offering him her cheek instead.
“We need to talk,” she whispered.
Julian snorted and tossed back the rest of his vodka. “Talk? Tu te fous de moi? I’ve been traveling all day; the last thing I want to do is talk.” He set his glass down on the end table and slid his hands around Allie’s waist.
“I can’t do this.” She tried wriggling out of his arms, but his hold on her tightened as his lips found her neck.
“I’ve been gone almost two weeks, ma chérie.” He was everywhere at once. His long hands roaming down her back; his wet lips moving across her skin; his hardening erection digging into her hip. She flattened her palms against his chest and pushed, but he didn’t budge.
“I’m serious, Julian. Stop.”
“Let me guess, you have a headache?” His hands slid to her backside, feeling his way over her body and holding her tight against him. “I thought those excuses started after the ceremony?” he said, letting his tongue dip into her ear.
“I can’t marry you.”
He lifted his head. She’d expected shock, even anger, but Julian’s eyes blazed with raw fury. “The hell you can’t,” he said through clenched teeth.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t love you.” Her voice was small but firm.
“Love?” He sneered at her. “This has nothing to do with love, Alessandra.” Julian released her and she exhaled the breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. “It’s an arrangement. Part of the deal.”
Allie’s wide eyes darted to his. She was part of a deal? What deal?
“Don’t act so surprised.” The smile he gave her sent a chill down her spine. “You’re one hell of a trophy wife.”
And there it was, the cold truth.
Julian picked up his drink and beelined for the bottle of Grey Goose he’d left on the kitchen counter. Allie watched as he poured a hefty shot over the ice, making himself at home in her apartment just as he had in the rest of her life. She felt like such a fool. None of it had been real. The whirlwind romance, the impulsive proposal, not even the tender words whispered across a pillow. Allie’s eyes drifted shut as a wave of nausea rolled through her, and for a moment she thought she might be sick. Everything had been a means to an end, all part of his plan to worm his way into Ingram Media.
Ice cubes rattled against cut glass and she opened her eyes. Julian was staring at her, his lips curled into a smirk. “You haven’t learned a damn thing from your mother, have you?”
“I’m nothing like her.” Tears of anger and frustration threatened and she wiped them quickly with her hand.
Julian’s eyes flared over the top of his glass. “Where’s your ring?” he asked, leveling his stare on her left hand. Before she could answer he slammed the glass down on the counter and stalked toward her. Allie stepped back but he grabbed her with both hands, his fingers digging into her arms to the point of pain. “What the fuck have you been doing while I was gone?”
“You’re hurting me.”
He gave her a hard shake. “Answer me. Where the fuck is my ring, Alessandra?” His nostrils flared and his face twisted with rage. Allie had never seen him like this. Angry over a botched dinner reservation? Sure. Impatient with a valet? Absolutely. But the man standing in front of her was volatile and wild, totally out of control.