CHAPTER EIGHTY-FIVE

CHAPTER EIGHTY-FIVE
ELENA

"What if everything we know about our family isn't what it appears to be?" quoting exactly what Alexander said to be Margaret's random question.

"She likely learned that she was the sister of Vincent Carter." He was now pacing back and forth, concerned as he concentrated hard.

"Your arch-nemesis? Oh, this is getting bizarre." I tucked my legs up onto the couch and observed as he paced. "Did anything else catch your attention during the discussion?"

Alexander ceased his pacing and held his hands over his eyes. "She was concerned, and the last thing she wanted to know was whether I had ever glanced at the family documents." He removed his hands, appearing fatigued.

Alexander clenched his jaw. "She'd have disappeared if she were aware of the connection."

"Or someone made her disappear," I whispered.

The thought lingered with us like a keen knife. Alexander starts pacing again with tight fists at his sides.

"Hey," I told him as I stood up and blocked his path. "Stop."

"Elena, what if Margaret learned the truth about her parents—"

"Alexander." I grasped his shoulders to bring his head toward mine. "Don't worry. We have no idea what happened to Margaret, and dwelling on the worst will not do us any good."

"But what if it were possible for me to stop it? What if, rather than ignoring the questions, I had responded?"

"You didn't know," I said firmly. "Margaret was a grown woman who did what she pleased. You were acting like a concerned cousin, not someone who foresees the future."

"I should have taken a better look around. I should have—"

I shut him up the only way that came naturally—by kissing him forcefully.

It worked. Alexander returned the kiss, and his hands rose to cradle my face as he kissed me in return with great passion. We were gasping for breath as we broke apart.

"Better?" I asked.

"Almost there." His thumb brushed my cheek. "How do you know how to pull me back from the edge, every single time?"

"You are easy to figure out." I smiled at him. "You are a wealthy man who desires to be a hero and always blames himself for everything. I have read the guide."

"There's a guide?"

"Oh yes. 'Understanding Your Emotionally Unavailable Rich Boyfriend, Third Edition.' It's quite comprehensive. There's an entire chapter on how to cater to and enhance CEO egos."

Alexander's laugh was what I was hoping for—surprised and genuine, breaking the tension like the sun emerging from the clouds.
"I love you," he said in a soft voice.

"I love you, too," I replied. "Even when you mostly worry about things beyond your control."

"Not true."

"For ten minutes, you have been pacing like a tiger in a cage, Alexander. If you were anymore over the top, we would require a band to perform some background music."

"That's a good point." He drew closer, and we were chest to chest. "How can I possibly do without your mind?"

"Relax, don’t worry about it." I approached quietly and kissed him on the jaw. "Lucky for you, I'm here to make things better for you."

"Very lucky," he breathed in his low, raspy voice, the one always capable of weakening my knees. The air between us was now strained. Alexander placed his hands on my waist, and his thumbs caressed my dress in circular motions. That tender touch sent warmth throughout my entire body.

"Alexander," I whispered, not sure if those caresses were a warning to be cautious or an enticement to something beautiful.

"I know," he whispered, moving closer to brush his fingers lightly over the soft flesh next to my ear. "But I need you, Elena. With everything going on with my dad and trying to discover what's going on with Margaret, I need something real."

I leaned back and gazed at him, seeing the desire combined with weakness in his expression. This was not just about the physical desire—it was about a desire to be safe and near when everything else was unclear.

"I'm real," I told him. "We are real."

His lips met mine once more, and this one was a slow, powerful one, full of emotions we couldn't openly express. His hands came into my hair, tugging hard as he drew himself in toward me. He tasted like wine, and he trembled in his hands, revealing his intense emotions.

"God, Elena," he whispered softly onto my lips. "Being around you makes everything better."

"It's my own gift," I told him, though it was more difficult to concentrate as his hands were working wonders on my back. "And I also possess a keen sense of sarcasm and can locate the remaining chocolate in any kitchen."

"Remind me to place enough chocolates in the kitchen, please," he requested, kissing my lips once more.

This was a sensual moment with plenty of emotions and desire. Alexander pushed me back into the wall with his body touching mine. His rapid heartbeat thumped in his chest, and the sound of him taking an air intake was loud in my ears when I lightly bit his lower lip.

Just as things were going to get interesting, the intercom buzzed loudly in the penthouse.

We parted, gasping for breath and in a bit of disarray.

"Don't worry," he murmured, leaning his head on my forehead.

The intercom emitted a loud buzz again.

"Mr. Moretti?" the security guard spoke up. "We have a problem. There's someone attempting to gain access to the penthouse."

Alexander closed his eyes and counted up to three before responding, "Who's there?"

He's insistent he's Marco Moretti, sir, and he's frantic, saying it's an emergency.

I saw Alexander's body tense up beside me. His jaw clenched, and I could practically watch as he shifted from a lover into a CEO poised to protect.

"Marco," he spoke softly. "Okay."

"Are you available, sir?" the security officer questioned.

Alexander gazed at me and indicated he was perplexed. I could see the conflicting desire to spend time with me and his obligations as a family man tugging at him.

"Call him up," he spoke at last with a weary voice.

"Alexander," I said, but he was heading in the opposite direction, tucking his hair into place in preparation for seeing Marco.

"I'm sorry," he continued. "Marco wouldn't have come here unless he was in serious trouble. He always just vanishes without a word and shows up when it is important."

I adjusted my dress and attempted to appear as if I hadn't been roughly kissed up against a wall.
"Well, it looks like our night of romance is over."

"I'll make it up to you," he assured, leaning in for a brief, tender peck on the lips.
"I'll set things right."

The elevator chime was loud, and we looked towards it, assuming our peaceful moment was about to be ruined.