Standing up from the bar, he paid the bill for the glass of scotch and left. Drinking was not an option. He walked the small distance to his apartment. When he entered he knew Noelle would be out with his brother. He hoped he’d done the right thing.
Chapter Six
Noelle sat in the hotel room, her palms sweating and her heart beating rapidly. She had made a mistake. There was no way she could phone an escort with the idea of spending time together. Shaking her head, she fumbled round the room, grabbing her purse and sweater. The mistake had been all hers. She went for the door, opened it and collided with a hard male chest.
His arms came round her, stopping her from falling flat on her face.
Her hair covered the scar on the right side of her face as she looked up the long length of body to find the most amazing dark brown eyes staring back at her.
“Where are you running out so fast?” the mystery man asked.
“I’ve got to go.”
“What are you doing in this hotel room?”
“I reserved this hotel room.”
He hadn’t removed his hands, his thumbs rubbing circles where they lay. She felt the heat pool inside her body from the smallest of contacts.
Get over yourself. He’s a hot man who wouldn’t want anything to do with you.
“Then you must be Elle.”
“Noelle,” she said, correcting him. He placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head back. He stared into her eyes stopping her from breathing from his intense scrutiny.
“I want to call you Elle.”
Her hair had fallen away from the scarred part of her face. She pulled out of his hold and back into the room. Her heart pounded from the contact of a man while she panicked in case he ran out screaming. She felt like a monster with the way her face was.
“Don’t hide from me,” he said. She watched as he closed the door turning the lock. The sound echoed around the room making her shiver.
She was alone in a hotel room with a man she didn’t know.
Bad move. Bad f**king move. Next time, Noelle, think of what you’re doing.
“I promise I won’t hurt you,” he said. She noticed he didn’t move away from the door. They stared at each other. Her hair had fallen back to cover one side of her face. “You look scared.”
“I’m fine.”
He moved away from the door and sat on the bed. Noelle couldn’t get over how handsome he looked. He was older than she. She saw it in the lines on his face and the easy way in which he carried himself.
His dark hair looked thick and silky. She wondered what it would be like to touch him and feel him against her. He had dark eyes, darker than anything she’d ever seen. His whole presence spoke of power and wealth. She didn’t know why she thought that, but looking at him he fit the wealthy role.
“Do you like what you see?” he asked.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”
“Look as long as you like. You may come closer if you wish.”
She shook her head. “I’m fine standing here.”
He smiled which lightened up his whole face. She had the sudden instinct to draw him. She wanted to capture the beauty of the moment. He looked so at ease with himself.
Gazing down the length of her body, she was drawn to the strength of his arms. The white shirt he wore was tight around the muscles of his upper arms. Everything on him looked thick and sturdy.
“Do you work out?” she asked.
“Sometimes.”
“You can tell.”
“You don’t work out,” he said. Noelle blushed as she gazed down at her body. She enjoyed eating, and her body showed her love of food. Her dress sizes were in double figures. The last time she checked she was well into a size sixteen with some skirts being eighteen. Her body was full and rounded. Exercise never appealed to her. Running outside would never happen for her, and running in one place was not an option.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I love the way you look.”
She frowned and lifted her gaze to him. He was looking up and down her body. “This feels awkward.”
“Then come closer, and we’ll get to know one another.”
With small movements, she walked to where he sat on the bed. He took her hand and set her down next to him.
“What’s your name?”
“Isaac.”
His name played in her mind. She liked the name. It suited him.
“Do you have a last name?”
“Just call me Isaac while we’re here.”
Isaac hadn’t let go of her hand. She found herself staring at the connection they shared. His hand was darker, sun-tanned, which was a complete contrast next to the pale untouched colour of her skin.
He reached out to touch the side of her face that was covered by her hair. She stopped him capturing his hand in hers. Both of their hands touched. His heat penetrated her cold palms. He represented everything she wasn’t, hot, sexy, warm, and many wonderful feelings she could only wish to think about.
“You’re cold,” he said.
“My hands always are.”
“I want to see you, Elle. Trust me. I’m not like other men.”
Tears filled her eyes as panic erupted inside her. Most men ran away from her. By holding his hands she felt a need inside her to be close to this one man. What if he ran when he saw her scars?
“I’m afraid.” She bit her lip to keep the tears at bay. For too long she’d let her tears fall and given into the fear that claimed her.
“Then fight it. You’ve already won half the battle in being here with me. You could have given in and not come at all. You’re here. Slowly, you’re fighting for what you want.” He pulled out of her grip and placed his palm on the right side of her face over her hair.
She found herself breathing hard and staring into his sinfully dark eyes.
“Trust me.”
She nodded her head as he moved her hair out of the way. Her breathing stopped as her hair went behind her ear, the right side of her face exposed for him to see. Noelle closed her eyes. She couldn’t bear to see the disgust on his face. The bed moved, and she expected to hear the sound of the door.
“You really went through some pain during this.” Opening her eyes she watched as he settled on the bed, facing her. He cupped her cheek and tilted her face up for a better look. His thumb touched the line from under her eye, down her check and neck to settle under her shirt at her collarbone.
“Don’t you find it ugly?” she asked.
“No. You went through hell during this, and these scars are your own war wounds. Most people’s scars are on the inside where no one can see them. You should be happy with them, Elle. You’ve lived through what caused them.”