~ ~ Beatrix ~ ~

Bursting through my apartment door, coat dripping, my bag slipped to the floor.

Finally... it was good to be home. The day had been a weird one, dragging on for much longer than I'd hoped—but at least one of my personal projects had paid off and the reward had been worth it.

Pausing, my eyes narrowed as the hairs on the back of my neck prickled.

Shit!

Typical, I get an unplanned visit when I'm not exactly looking my best.

Closing the door with my foot, an all too familiar smell of Creed cologne swept up my nose, bringing fourth in glorious colour the recollection of his birthday.

Now, that was an amazing night.

A smile kicked up the corner of my mouth. There had been many amazing nights, the three of us together. Thighs clenching, a familiar tide of excitement tightened my nipples at the recall of our last time - me flat on my back with my feet against my ears whilst his cock ploughed into me... ah, good times.

Shaking that memory away, my stomach's excitement shrivelled and the niggly feeling I'd woken with this morning and carried throughout the day amplified—tying itself in loops, pushing out the way my achievements.

I couldn't smell her perfume... and the scent of Creed was never without Chanel's Gardenia... her signature perfume.

Fuck!

If he was here alone, this all but screamed the shit was about to hit the fan.

Dropping my keys on the table, I slipped my damp coat from my shoulders, hanging it up before lifting my bag from the floor and sat it next to my keys. I looked in the large antique mirror on my freshly decorated hallway.

Urgh... My normally sleek hair had reverted to its crazy kinked curls as the rain had caught me by surprise leaving the office. No time to do anything about it. But then again, I doubted it was a visit that would end up with me on my knees, naked and begging for release.

Looking around me, a different kind of gloom filled me. I loved this apartment, but just like everything else in my life, it didn't belong to me.

It was only borrowed.

For three years, this apartment, my job, hell, parts of my heart belonged to Sean Peterson and his wife Sadie since that first crazy night we'd spent together. He had promised to free me from my heartbreak and open up parts of me which I never knew existed.

He hadn't exaggerated.

I'd foolishly believed it was fate that I'd met the married couple, but now I was sure just like everything else in Sean's well-ordered life—it was orchestrated.

His twin sister, Olivia, had warned me to steer a wide path around Sean and his wife and an entire year they had pursued me and I'd either been brave or too stupid to heed her advice.

Officially, or rather formally, I'd met Sean a little over four years ago. Fresh from Oxford University, it was my first interview for Peterson House Publishing.

Knowing full well my dreams of becoming a writer was simply that—a dream. I'd decided I still wanted to live and breathe the world of literature.

I'd been so nervous during my ten-minute presentation to two stuffy old guys and one stuck up woman on the interview panel and little did I know Sean had been watching my cringe worthy performance via camera. Sadly, I didn't get the position I'd applied for in their London office. But Sean must have seen past my nervousness and instead, I was offered a job in Canada and the rest is, as they say, history.

It didn't matter that both of them were older than me, Sean more so than Sadie, and as promised my eyes had been opened in more ways than I ever could have imagined. Gone was the innocent, shy girl they had seduced, replaced by a woman of sexual desires I'd barely touched on when I'd left London.

But that was then. And today was the first time I'd seen him for over a week. He and Sadie had left on vacation—alone. A break to reconnect, they'd said.

But I knew better.

Slipping off my shoes, I walked down the long hall to the open sitting area. I was right. Sean stood alone staring out onto the Vancouver skyline; the dark clouds were lit up with a slash of lightning. He didn't flinch, his beloved scotch in hand, neither moving nor acknowledging my approach.

Once again, it did nothing to ease the tightly wound knot growing inside.

From the back you would never have guessed his age. Broad shoulders, dressed immaculately in his tailed designer suit, holding himself with a confidence I'd seen few others project. Seriously handsome, dominant, with a lean tanned muscular body. They had built the man for fucking... he was sin in walking form.

Gravitating toward him; each step closer was a shift away from him... from Sadie.

Was I ready for this? It had always been inevitable. It was the one thing he'd always promised to me, never lying.

... Nothing lasts forever, Beatrix.

Slipping my hands around his waist. I rested my cheek against his back, inhaling deeply, wanting to imprint his smell to memory. He neither stiffened nor relaxed as his free hand settled over mine, sipping the aged scotch from the thick glass tumbler. It was odd to think this was only the third time he'd stepped inside the apartment.

"What kept you out this late, Beatrix?"

"I got Adrian Mackavoy to sign." Adrian was an up-and-coming author, snagged by Halls Publishing who were suffocating his potential. His latest written word masterpiece had been nothing short of breathtaking, and I'd often wished for an ounce of his talent.

"That's not your job, Beatrix."

Lifting my cheek, I forced myself to smile. "Perhaps, but you know I wouldn't leave until he'd signed the dotted line." Thanks to me finding a get-out in his contract with Halls.

"We need to talk." His tone did nothing to alleviate my unease.

But did we? Not really. I didn't need it spelled out for me. "Let's just pretend that you're not here to break me into small pieces and I'll pretend it's gonna be okay."

He unclasped my hands, moving away, towards the nearest shelf where he placed his glass tumbler.

My eyes followed his hand, biting my lip. I hated anything being placed directly onto the bare wood. It would leave its mark. Biting my tongue, instructing myself it wasn't my concern. I wouldn't live here for much longer.

Stepping up to me, he lifted my chin forcing our eyes to meet.

They were the first thing that attracted me to him. He had the most beautiful shade of brown eyes, like melted chocolate with flecks of amber. Sean was touching forty-five, nineteen years older than me... four years older than his wife.

"You know I don't want this... right?"

My suspicions were confirmed. This was Sadie. I had to remind myself we didn't always get what we wanted, or what we deserved. "You're here. So, I think we both know that's not true Sean."

He let go of my chin. "Damn it, Trix!" He sighed, his brow furrowing with building frustration.

I almost smiled at him shortening my name. It had only taken him four years to call me by my nickname, Sean being the only person to refer to me as Beatrix. Another sign my world was about to be rocked.

But Sadie was his wife. Of course, he would choose her. I was always the third wheel, knowing full well my place in their relationship. And that had suited me fine.

Nonetheless, rejection is a cruel master no matter how it's spun - It bloody hurts.

Sean grasped my shoulders, shaking his head. "I don't want this." His eyes dropped as a grumbled sigh followed. "Would you be willing to renegotiate our agreement?"

Ah yes, our agreement. The one that gave me this apartment. Access to all the perks I'd become so fond of and bought them their privacy and wicked desires.

His eyes lifted. "I don't want to let you go. We could—" The wheels of his mind churned. "Sadie doesn't have to know." He didn't believe his own words. His hands threaded through my damp hair, holding my head in place as his lips crashed onto mine. Desperation, as his tongue demanded access to all parts of my mouth. His lips weren't soft, almost dry like sunburn, rough but not displeasing. This would most likely be the last time we kissed.

He pulled away, stepping back. "Fuck!" he cursed, drawing in a ragged breath.

His face was awash with conflicting emotions, but it would change nothing. I'd seen the change in Sadie on her birthday. Turning forty had brought about some profound realizations for her. She'd talked of her fears of growing older, feeling less of a sexually desired woman. I'd never thought she would suffer from such worries. She had always been as confident in herself as Sean. And it was one quality I'd admired in her. That, and she knew what she wanted, never denied her own sexuality. I had been her lover as much as Sean's.

But now she feared I would steal Sean from her. Not that I ever would. I cared for each of them deeply and the last thing I would ever consider was going behind her back, without her consent.

That was cheating, and I didn't cheat. I was upfront.

A straight shooter, as my dad had always said.

"We can't. We agreed when one of us wanted out. It ended for all three." The words tasted bitter as my heart pounded.

Sean scrubbed his hands across his face. I knew this wasn't what he wanted; he was fond of me, I was sure... but he loved Sadie.

I stepped up to the large glass doors that led out to an open balcony.

"I'm not sure I can let you go." His statement was said more to himself.

It didn't warrant a response. Opening the doors, I breathed in the rain's scent. The thunder was moving east but rain continued to downpour. The clouds hung heavy as I wrapped my arms around myself. I loved the rain reminding me of home. But today it just reminded me how far away from home I was—not that I had anything back there anymore. Even my only living relative, my brother, Sebastian rarely bothered with me. Having never visited once.

"I want the London office." A position had opened up. The chief of publishing, Mark Duffy, was retiring. It was common knowledge they were in the middle of recruitment. It was also unheard of for a twenty-six-year-old in such a demanding position—but fuck it! He owed me this opportunity.

And although I may have slotted into my current job role. I'd be damned if anyone said I'd not earned it every single day since. Working both the legal side and the publishing, signing more new and successful authors than anyone else. And that didn't include all the extra time I worked in editing. I knew the ins and outs when it came to Peterson House Publishing.

This was my shot. I'd worked damn hard to prove my worth for the position.

His head shot in my direction; pain and dismay pooled in his eyes. "You want to leave Canada?"

A clean break. If I stayed, I knew Sean would not give me up easily. Perhaps Sadie had spotted the signs earlier than I did. "Yes, it's time I head back to London."

"I thought you would never go back?" He moved to stand behind me. I could feel the heat of his body as his hands landed on my hips with an almost desperate grip as I leaned into him, sinfully aware of the hard press of his hips against my lower back, his erection beneath his trousers.

My mind flicked to Cameron Harte. The man I'd left behind without a word of where I was going, threatening my brother to never tell him.

I cursed my own weakness for thinking about him. He hadn't deserved to know. I'd given him my heart and trust and he'd burrowed in and exploded it from the inside, leaving a hole I doubted would ever be filled.

"If I stay, it will get messy. I won't do that to Sadie. I will stick to our agreement."

He dropped his hands, stepping away as if I burned him. He reached for his glass on the shelf, emptying the last mouthful.

I turned to face him, a shade of sadness settled across his face and for the first time he looked his age, and I knew if he asked me for one last night, I wouldn't refuse him. I would give him that. If I was honest, I wanted that too.

But he didn't. He was silent for a long moment before he finally committed to the inevitable. "You can have London. I'll get the contract drawn up by the end of the week." Grief stretched through his words.

And that was it. It was over.

Turning away, pressing my lips tightly together to fight back the pain knowing if I kept looking at him, I would cry.

No time for tears. I had to think of my future. The start of a new contract, but this one was mine to own. Twelve months was all that I needed to head up the London office and then I could move out of the shadow of Sean Peterson. "Thank you." Lifting my hand to reach out to him but withdrew it just as quickly. "I will be gone by the end of the month."

I stepped barefoot on the patio out into the open, the rain was drenching, coming down in sheets as it soaked through my clothes in seconds, spreading my arms wide I lifted my face to the sky closing my eyes.

I was going home.