“I promised you I would be open to you. I’m being honest.”
“Then why do you dye your hair?”
She stared at him wanting to lie. She wanted to refuse him.
“I don’t want to tell you.”
“You promised me no secrets.”
“I don’t want to lie, so please let me keep this one to myself.” She took a step back, and he followed her until she stood with her back to the wall.
“Don’t be afraid of me, Elle.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why are you stepping away from me?” he asked.
Licking her lips, she glanced up at his face. “You make me nervous, but I’m not afraid.”
“You really don’t want to answer my question?” Isaac tucked a stray curl behind her ear, his thumb resting along her scar.
“No. I don’t.”
“Then don’t answer it, but beware, Elle. I’ll want an answer at some point.” He was so close she was struggling to breathe. His scent invaded her senses, and the feel of him pressed against her was more than she’d ever felt before. He moved down to rub her bottom lip. She gasped as his gaze went to where his thumb lay. Her lips felt dry with the intensity of his stare on her mouth.
“Why can’t I get you out of my head?” he asked.
She refused to say anything. He held her under his spell. Isaac pressed closer, and she felt the press of his arousal on her stomach. He dipped his thumb inside her mouth and rested the digit on her tongue. Without thought, she sucked him inside her mouth. The action was as natural as breathing to her.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me. What I want to do to you should have me shot.”
His words sounded promising. She didn’t understand what he exactly meant by the words. He pulled his thumb out of her mouth and moved away.
“I can’t think when I’m close to you.” He sat on the edge of the bed, his hands running through his hair. Her gaze caught in the different tones of colour. For a forty year old man, his hair had the healthy sheen of someone younger. She walked to the edge of the bed where he sat and ran her fingers through the strands of his hair.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I want to touch you.”
Isaac relaxed. He held onto her waist as she stroked his hair. The soft wavy lengths fascinated her. He stroked her stomach through the fabric of her top. She’d chosen a thick one to beat against the cold outside. His touch moved under her shirt until he was on her skin. She held her breath from the electric. Whenever he touched her, the fire in her veins ignited, and she struggled to think coherently.
“You’re skin is soft.”
“I use good soap. Do you have your hair professionally done?” she asked.
“I have it cut by the only man I’d let near me with a pair of scissors. How do you have your hair cut?” He looked up and touched her hair, one of his hands on her stomach while the other twirled a curl of her hair between his fingers.
“I do it.”
“Why don’t you go to the hairdressers’?”
Noelle blushed. She never thought she would have to look good for anyone. Staring at the strand of her hair he held, she saw the split ends. She used scissors and simply cut bits of her hair until they lay down her arm.
“I cut it myself without looking in the mirror.”
“You don’t look in the mirror?”
She shook her head. Her throat hurt from the lump. She could barely breathe. “I’ve not looked in the mirror for a long time.”
His gaze seemed to look deep into her very soul. Noelle couldn’t turn away as she was captured by him.
“You have no idea how beautiful you are.”
There was no way she could be beautiful. One side of her face was a mess. She recalled spending a great deal of time looking in the mirror when she was younger. One side of her face had been pale, completely unmarked by the accident. On the other side had been the brutal, striking, deep red scar showing the ugliness of what she’d been through. Since that day where she spent most of her day staring at her reflections she’d made it a rule to never seek out her reflection.
The other day when she’d seen herself in the window was the small luxury she allowed herself.
****
Isaac saw the conflicting emotions flash across her face. His heart broke thinking about all that she’d lost. To most men, the scar would be a massive deterrent. He saw past the scar to the beautiful woman underneath. The mark on her face was pale, and he could tell the accident had happened some time ago even without her talking about it.
Her hair was thick and beautiful. The dark red colour she had it made her skin look far paler than if she went back to the blonde in the picture. Sighing out at the unfairness of her situation, he went back to stroking the flesh of her belly. He smiled when he felt her quiver from his touch. She felt the connection as well, the electricity which passed between them. No other woman had made him so energized and desperate to be with her.
Inhaling her lemony scent, he relaxed as she caressed his hair. If he could come home from work every day to her, he knew he’d be a happy man. She gave him peace where no one else could.
He thought about her hair and was determined to see that she got a decent hair cut. By the time he was finished she would be able to look in the mirror and see the woman that he saw. Her kindness should be cherished. Many people would see past her scars if only she gave them time. His thoughts were ludicrous. He knew that if he brought Clark into the situation he would make him feel like less of a man because he wanted a woman who wasn’t perfect.
Closing his eyes, he enjoyed her touch while it lasted. He didn’t have anything else to get back to. The only pleasure he had was in the hours he spent in the small hotel room with her. They’d seen each other twice, and already they were the best two nights of his life. No sex had happened. They were close to each other without the need for physical intimacy, and it was perfect to him.
Was his age making him weak?
Isaac didn’t know the answer and no longer cared. Most of his days were long and hard. If Elle held the key to him being at peace then he would continue to remain in the false position of being an escort to be with her. Seeing her reaction to certain questions had made him aware of the fact she couldn’t survive in his world. They would tear her apart, and he would let them. He lived by a fight or flight code, and if she couldn’t fight for her position then he wouldn’t fight to keep her in his world.