tired. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been hurt by Sam’s silence when he’d left for Europe five years before. How much he still hurt. It felt like an enormous weight had lifted. He was looking forward to spending time with Sam.
He opened the door to the hotel and headed for the elevator. “You’ve been hiding from me,” he heard Alexandria say from behind him. Before he could respond, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him, moving one arm up his shoulder to comb his hair with her fingers. She wore a short dress with silver sandals that accentuated her long legs.
“I told you I was having dinner with friends.” He pulled away from her and struggled to mask his irritation.
“Of course you did.” She imitated his serious expression. “But I thought you’d be back by now.” She pushed him into the elevator and pressed a button.
“Alexandria—” He forced the elevator door back open with his foot. “—this isn’t going to happen.”
She reached for him again and he pushed her away.
“Alexandria.” He tried to keep his voice down, but he was at the end of his patience. “I don’t fuck married women. Go home. Please.”
There was cold fury in her eyes, but Aiden didn’t flinch. He expected her to yell at him, but instead she simply laughed as if she didn’t care. She flicked her long hair with one hand and she strode out of the hotel without looking back.
Aiden released the elevator door and leaned against the wall of the cab. It would be another long night; he was sure of it.
Chapter 9
A
IDEN finally fell asleep around four that morning. When he awoke with the sunrise, he lay in bed with a particularly stubborn morning erection and thought about Sam. He weighed his options: jerking off or getting some exercise. Since he was pretty sure he wouldn’t get Sam Ryan out of his head with just his hand, he decided on the exercise. He’d work out and clear his head. He didn’t need to be a basket case when he went to meet Sam. He’d be nervous enough anyhow.
God, but he’d made so many mistakes. He pulled on sweatpants and a T-shirt and headed out the door a few minutes later. It had all seemed so black and white back then. He’d either have Sam or his career. But it hadn’t been that simple, and it stung to realize it now. Who was to say they couldn’t have found a middle ground for their relationship to survive?
When Aiden returned to his room an hour later, breakfast was already on the table, along with the morning newspaper. He opened the window to the cool morning air and peeled his sweaty shirt off, then sat down to read. He’d never been a big fan of newspapers, but he made a point of reading them in French to improve his command of the language.
He sipped his coffee as he read through the arts section, smiling at the interview with David Somers on the front page, which discussed the opera Aiden would be performing in a few weeks. Not surprisingly, the reporter made it a point to compliment David on his impressive career successes. David, of course, was charmingly dismissive and steered the conversation back to Aiden and the other singers as well as the modern sets that had been painted by a popular French artist.
Aiden had just poured himself a second cup of coffee when he saw it. A photograph, toward the bottom of the society page. A photograph of him and Alexandria, locked in a passionate kiss. Well, at least it looked passionate. His face was mostly obscured by hers.
Oh fucking hell!
He stood up and gritted his teeth, stormed over to the window, and looked outside. The photo had been taken the night before, when he’d come back from dinner at Jules and Jason’s. He struggled to recall the hotel lobby. He hadn’t seen anyone when they’d walked in, but then again, he hadn’t been paying attention.
His cell phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pants. Alexandria. Great. She’d obviously seen the photograph too. He let the call go to voice mail.
Not like
He opened the door to the hotel and headed for the elevator. “You’ve been hiding from me,” he heard Alexandria say from behind him. Before he could respond, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him, moving one arm up his shoulder to comb his hair with her fingers. She wore a short dress with silver sandals that accentuated her long legs.
“I told you I was having dinner with friends.” He pulled away from her and struggled to mask his irritation.
“Of course you did.” She imitated his serious expression. “But I thought you’d be back by now.” She pushed him into the elevator and pressed a button.
“Alexandria—” He forced the elevator door back open with his foot. “—this isn’t going to happen.”
She reached for him again and he pushed her away.
“Alexandria.” He tried to keep his voice down, but he was at the end of his patience. “I don’t fuck married women. Go home. Please.”
There was cold fury in her eyes, but Aiden didn’t flinch. He expected her to yell at him, but instead she simply laughed as if she didn’t care. She flicked her long hair with one hand and she strode out of the hotel without looking back.
Aiden released the elevator door and leaned against the wall of the cab. It would be another long night; he was sure of it.
Chapter 9
A
IDEN finally fell asleep around four that morning. When he awoke with the sunrise, he lay in bed with a particularly stubborn morning erection and thought about Sam. He weighed his options: jerking off or getting some exercise. Since he was pretty sure he wouldn’t get Sam Ryan out of his head with just his hand, he decided on the exercise. He’d work out and clear his head. He didn’t need to be a basket case when he went to meet Sam. He’d be nervous enough anyhow.
God, but he’d made so many mistakes. He pulled on sweatpants and a T-shirt and headed out the door a few minutes later. It had all seemed so black and white back then. He’d either have Sam or his career. But it hadn’t been that simple, and it stung to realize it now. Who was to say they couldn’t have found a middle ground for their relationship to survive?
When Aiden returned to his room an hour later, breakfast was already on the table, along with the morning newspaper. He opened the window to the cool morning air and peeled his sweaty shirt off, then sat down to read. He’d never been a big fan of newspapers, but he made a point of reading them in French to improve his command of the language.
He sipped his coffee as he read through the arts section, smiling at the interview with David Somers on the front page, which discussed the opera Aiden would be performing in a few weeks. Not surprisingly, the reporter made it a point to compliment David on his impressive career successes. David, of course, was charmingly dismissive and steered the conversation back to Aiden and the other singers as well as the modern sets that had been painted by a popular French artist.
Aiden had just poured himself a second cup of coffee when he saw it. A photograph, toward the bottom of the society page. A photograph of him and Alexandria, locked in a passionate kiss. Well, at least it looked passionate. His face was mostly obscured by hers.
Oh fucking hell!
He stood up and gritted his teeth, stormed over to the window, and looked outside. The photo had been taken the night before, when he’d come back from dinner at Jules and Jason’s. He struggled to recall the hotel lobby. He hadn’t seen anyone when they’d walked in, but then again, he hadn’t been paying attention.
His cell phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pants. Alexandria. Great. She’d obviously seen the photograph too. He let the call go to voice mail.
Not like
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