Page 120 of Chandelier Enthralled
Cameron was willingly to let me spend time with his sister—which had to mean he knew I was innocent.
“Thank you for the tea,” she said.
“It was a gift from your brother.” I shrugged. “But you’re welcome.”
Willa took a few more seconds to brace herself and then walked out without looking back.
I’d saved her tonight, but she didn’t see it like that. She hurried toward the parked car.
From behind the wheel, Cameron threw me a wave of thanks, his jaw taut with frustration.
Willa climbed into the passenger side of the BMW.
I saw them swap pleasant smiles, but I knew her sitting there wearing my shirt wasn’t a good look.
Finally, when she did look my way, my heart squeezed with relief that she was back in safe hands, relatively unscathed.
As they set off down the driveway, the first tendrils of agony drew around me, darkening my sky, causing my throat to tighten with dread.
This is loneliness.
The stark bleakness of this house has found me again.
This place was already sad, but Amelia’s death had ruined it.
I’d let her close, too close, and now trusting someone again made my heart twist with doubt. I’d poured the best of my soul into her and yet she was never meant to own it.
The woman I had welcomed into my life had ultimately betrayed me and everyone around me—yet when she’d died, the pain still cut me deeply.
It was Willa who had brought a sense of renewal to my damaged soul. All she had to do was stand in my kitchen, in my shirt, and be herself.
She deserved everything a good man could possibly give her—every ounce of love.
Every secret moment we had shared, every whispered promise that danced between us, carried the thrill of the forbidden. But I knew with unshakable certainty that no love could ever be too deep for her.
She deserved the best the world could offer, and I sent out a silent prayer that she would find him—the man who could love her completely.
It was a crisp Friday morning, and I was back in the car with my brother. I knew an unwelcome conversation was looming.
This didn’t feel like a trip out for brunch.
Cameron was seriously quiet, driving his BMW with a steady focus. While I was still having trouble shaking off the effects of Pendulum—andhim.
Greyson was a mystery, and I couldn’t let him go, couldn’t forget the brief but compelling intimacy we’d shared at that sinister club.
Pendulum was so much more than it first appeared. I remained overwhelmed by a mixture of awe and wonder and confusion, thinking of the hauntingly beautiful music of last night that served as backdrop to the vision I’d seen.
I’d become the voyeur.
Memories of the erotic scene stillleft me breathless, as if I’d stepped into a world where time had slowed, and nothingwas real. The performance had awakened something deep inside me, sparking a need to explore my own desires in ways I never thought possible.
Yesterday, while driving me away from Greyson’s Hollywood Hills estate, Cameron hadn’t asked me anything at all, which was strange.
Guilt washed over me for not going into work today. I’d be missed, then probably fired, so this might be his strategy.
So far, Cameron had refused to tell me where we were going, and we’d been driving for an uncomfortably long time. He kept looking at me with an intense expression of concern.
Oh, God, he knows about Pendulum.
