A Sip of You(12)

“Just let me know if you change your mind, Miss Kelly.” Parker added.

“Please, it’s Catherine. And I don’t need anything, thanks,” I replied as I kept watching. I didn’t recognize anyone in that group, and then I spotted a beautiful, statuesque, dark-haired woman. I didn’t recognize her either, but she was hard to ignore. She wore a tight black skirt and a matching jacket, with four-inch stilettos accenting her already long, lean legs. Generous cleavage swelled at the V of her jacket, and she had the famous California tan I missed seeing when I looked in the mirror. Her wide, dark brown eyes were fastened unapologetically on me, and she didn’t look away when our gazes clashed. I didn’t recognize her, but William obviously did. He enfolded her in a warm embrace then kissed her on the cheek.

Jealousy stabbed through me and I had to look away. I’d spent years with Jace on beaches all over the world, surrounded by women in bikinis who were more than happy to attempt to entice a famous surfer. But I never worried about Jace and I’d never felt even so much as a twinge of envy when he talked to one of his fawning, flirty fans. But everything between William and me was so new. I never thought I was a jealous person, but I’d already had moments of jealousy with him and now I was having another one. I needed to get a grip, but I had a thousand questions, most importantly: who the hell was this woman and who was she to William?

I returned my gaze to William and watched as he seemed to linger beside her. She was perfectly comfortable touching him, stroking his shoulder and placing her hand possessively on his forearm. In fact, she seemed to touch him as much as possible, even making certain her breast rubbed against his arm when she stood beside him. I shifted impatiently, waiting for William to walk back or call me over and introduce us, but after a few moments, it became clear that wasn’t going to happen. After yet another embrace, she moved away, leaving William to exchange a few more private words with George.

What the hell was that? I thought as I clenched my hands by my sides. My heart was racing and I felt nervous and jittery all over. How could William be so solicitous, so attuned to my every need in the bedroom and then forget something basic like introducing me, his girlfriend, once we arrived? I stood awkwardly and unsure on the tarmac, my face heated with embarrassment and anger.

I tried to be discrete, but I kept looking over at her. She was tall and willowy—I’d bet money that she was a former something, actress or model. I could totally see it.

I tried to reassure myself. William had brought me. He’d said he needed me. Not an hour ago, we’d been pleasuring one another on his private plane. It was me he’d had his mouth and hands on just minutes ago. It was my hand that had made him come. I clenched my hands again and willed all these ridiculous insecurities away. It felt like the Art Institute all over again—my worst first date ever—but instead of Chicago ice princess socialite Lara Kendall, a brunette California version was staring daggers at me from just a few feet away. Great. William still hadn’t spilled the details of his previous relationship with Lara and that still irked me, though he’d made it clear there was nothing and had never been anything serious between them. He’d probably tell me the same thing about this woman. If I asked. But I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

With nothing else to do but stew and imagine the worst, I stood in place, alone, and peered about the airport, inhaling the sweet, familiar air and staring at the mountains in the distance. I’d missed the jagged landscapes of California. Illinois was so flat, the vistas unrelieved except by an occasional glimpse of the lake. But as much as I longed for this home, that ball of dread was rolling around in my stomach. I remembered leaving California. Vividly. It felt like another life, and like I’d been another person. And I had been. I was Cat Ryder then, not Catherine Kelly. So much had changed in the last year.

Finally, William looked as though he was wrapping up. He nodded to George and then strode to me. “Come on,” he said with a smile, taking my hand and squeezing it. “I have something to show you.”

As we walked toward the small terminal, he pulled me close to him, close enough that I could smell the lavender body wash from his quick shower on the jet after our fooling around. I smiled back at him, his anticipation contagious, but as I looked over my shoulder at the plane we’d just exited and at his people now scattering across the tarmac, I couldn’t help but feel that making this trip was a big mistake.

***

“Your luggage is already on the way to the house,” William said once we entered the terminal. Another one of the perks of traveling like the super rich, I supposed.