Into the Light (Untwisted series Book 3)

  INTO THE LIGHT

  Untwisted Book Three

  Alice Raine

  Into the Light, the third novel in the highly addictive Untwisted series follows on with the complex and intensely erotic relationship between the dark and domineering Nathaniel Jackson and timid Stella Marsden.

  Passion runs wild as Nathan and Stella continue their illicit 'no-strings attached’ meet-ups, but as Stella begins to fall for Nathan, his jealous side rears its ugly head. After a misunderstanding threatens to end their relationship once and for all, can Nathan move past the engrained behaviours of his past and learn to trust Stella, the only woman to ever tempt him to consider a ‘real’ relationship?

  ‘We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.’

  Plato

  Chapter One - Stella

  It was just before lunch on Monday. I was at my desk staring vacantly at my laptop and pretending to work, but really I was being completely and utterly unproductive as my mind went over and over the events of the last two days. Talk about a busy and heart-wrenchingly stressful weekend. I literally had no idea where my relationship with Nathan stood now, and a huge sigh puffed out of my cheeks at the hopeless mess I’d gotten myself into. I felt the start of a migraine every time I replayed the insensitive and callous way that Nathan had thrown me out of his apartment on Saturday night after the arrival of his brother.

  Shaking my head in exasperation I began to chew on a much-abused fingernail. I understood that family was important, and it was clear that Nathan’s brother had had a crisis of some sort, but still, a little civility on my exit wouldn’t have gone amiss.

  Groaning in frustration at the futility of my thoughts I rubbed my eyes to clear my mind, but only succeeded in intensifying my headache and shifting it to my eye sockets. Now I had white dots dancing in my vision to accompany the throb in my temples. How marvellous, I thought dryly. Heaving out another huge sigh I gave up on trying to ease the ache and instead slumped back in my chair giving up all pretence of work.

  My fingers instinctively rose to the necklace that Nathan had given me, and I began tangling the diamond threads gently around my fingers like a very expensive set of worry beads as I thought about him and all his complexities. Being asked to leave Nathan's so abruptly had left me with a lot of unanswered questions about my relationship with him, questions I still hadn't been brave enough to fully analyse because regardless of how used I'd felt on Saturday, I couldn't deny the fact that I still wanted him. In our admittedly unconventional time together as dominant and submissive, he'd sparked some kind of visceral response in me and I just couldn’t get enough of him.

  Leaving my necklace alone for fear of snapping it, I began twirling my thumb ring anxiously instead as I thought of the last time I had spent with him. It hadn’t exactly been the smoothest of weekends, I thought with a grimace. After being called in to work last Saturday I'd ending up in the office when I should have been spending the day with Nathan, then he unceremoniously chucked me out later that night when Nicholas had unexpectedly arrived. It meant I'd only seen Nathan briefly on Friday and Saturday nights. As a result I was now feeling emotional, pathetically vulnerable, and cranky, not to mention annoyingly horny.

  Meeting his brother had been pretty unconventional too, I thought as I blew some wayward hairs out of my face. No polite family drinks and introductions for us, no, Nicholas Jackson had let himself into Nathan's apartment and then seemingly had some sort of mental breakdown right there in the hallway. Quite frankly he'd seemed more than a little unhinged as he'd ranted about ‘losing it’ and ‘losing her’, whatever the hell that meant.

  As a consequence of my shitty weekend I was now exhausted from the near-constant debate in my head about whether or not I should finish with Nathan. I was in far too deeply now, feeling things for him that were well outside the boundaries of our ridiculous contract, so I knew that either option would ultimately be painful for me. I'd also made the uncomfortable discovery that two evenings of sex with Nathan just weren't enough for me; apparently I needed an entire weekend to get my fill so that I could survive a full week without him. A sordid little realisation that merely added to my foul mood this morning.

  The familiar voices and footsteps of two of my managers floated in the air as they approached my office discussing which restaurant to go to for lunch, so I quickly scrabbled myself upright, stared vacantly at my laptop screen, and then cringed at my own earlier thoughts. ‘Survive a full week without him?’ Christ, I sounded like an alcoholic or something. I rolled my eyes, I had turned into a frigging Nathan-a-holic, and as much as I might try to deny it to myself, I was in desperate need of a fix.

  A sudden and shrill ringing broke me from my depressing thoughts, and after a second I dazedly realised it was my mobile phone ringing and vibrating its way across the shiny surface of my desk. Mobiles weren’t permitted in the office, but in my exhausted daze this morning I’d forgotten to silence the bloody thing. Snatching it up I glared at the screen as if it had rung on purpose to get me into trouble, but not recognising the number I frowned, walking away from the main office to answer it. Flicking open my phone once I had reached the safety of the corridor I rammed it next to my ear, ‘What?’ I snapped, flinching as I realised how moody I sounded and praying it wasn't my mother, or an important client.

  ‘Stella, hi!’ My eyes widened as I recognised the male voice on the other end of the line and I immediately felt some of the tension dissipate from my body as a huge grin spread across my face. This was certainly a very well timed, very welcomed interruption to my earlier self-inflicted misery.

  ‘Simon? Oh my God, Simon!’ I shrieked as I practically jumped on the spot, but when I noticed several colleagues further down the corridor had stopped and turned to look at me in surprise I bit my tongue to calm myself down. I was on the phone in an office corridor, not screaming out an Abba classic in a hushed library, for heaven’s sake, so I really didn’t know what their problem was, but I lowered my voice, then gave them an apologetic shrug and turned to face the window with a smirk. I might have been feeling pretty grumpy after my disastrous weekend with Nathan, but hearing Simon's voice was just amazing and so unexpected that I couldn’t seem to calm the jittery excitement coursing through my veins.

  ‘When did you get back?’

  ‘This morning. I've only got four days leave but I was hoping you might be free to meet for a drink tonight?’ he asked expectantly, in that lovely rich baritone of his.

  There was no hesitation from me, ‘Yes! Yes! Just tell me where and when and I'll be there!’ I exclaimed excitedly, deciding that Simon’s visit gave me the perfect opportunity to further delay making any decisions about my relationship with Nathan. If our weekly contracted shag sessions could even be called a relationship, I thought with a self-derisive snort.

  Hanging up, I went back to work with a new energy, and my thoughts of Nathan were temporarily forgotten – not that you could ever really ‘forget’ someone as enigmatic at Nathaniel Jackson – but at least my mind was on more constructive things now, and my depressingly dull and empty Monday evening looked like it would be far more interesting. I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face; a full evening with Simon, I couldn't wait. Glancing down at my rather drab office clothes I scrunched up my nose. With the swanky venue he had chosen I was definitely going to need to go home and change before I headed out. Deciding to skip lunch so I could leave work an hour early I dug in my desk for a cereal bar and then munched on it as I hummed happily to myself, ridiculously glad that Simon had chosen today of all days to call me.

  Twirling in front of the mi
rror in my hallway I dismissed my current outfit with a scowl. This trouser suit made me look like Lady Gaga on steroids. Huffing out an impatient breath I strode back into my bedroom and peeled off the purple material, depositing it on the floor. It was just as well that I’d left work early, because I’d been trying on outfits for my night with Simon for the past 40 minutes and was still undecided. My bedroom now looked like a complete bombsite; there was a vast array of underwear, skirts, trousers, and dresses littering every available surface and my poor wardrobe was looking decidedly bare. Spotting a dress on a hanger towards the back, I grinned; my old favourite - it would be perfect for tonight – providing it still fit me, that was.

  Carefully removing it from the hanger and slipping it over my head I was relieved to find that not only did the dress still fit, but luckily it looked pretty amazing on me too. Phew. Crisis averted, outfit chosen.

  As I gazed at my reflection in the mirror my mind flitted to Nathan. Would he like my outfit? Pausing in my preparations a frown settled on my brows, and my fingers once again sought out the collar around my neck. His collar. It matched the dress beautifully. I’d worn it every single day since he gave it to me, as per our agreement. Sighing, I fingered the delicate stones gently; they were my ever-present link to him, but after the way our weekend ended I wasn’t sure if I should be wearing it anymore. Chewing on my lower lip a little sadly I left the necklace in place for now, I would decide later if it should stay or go, and then padded to the bathroom to apply my make-up.

  My heels click-clacked loudly on the spotless black and white tiles as I made my way self-consciously past the top-hatted doorman and started across the sumptuous foyer of Claridge’s Hotel. Yes, that’s right, I was in Mayfair, attempting to act as if I were perfectly at home in the surroundings of one of the most exclusive hotels in London, if not the world. Everything, and everyone around me seemed to be effortlessly elegant and stylish, but I felt nervous, clumsy and out of place in the formidable surroundings – especially with my high heels rudely disturbing the peace – and was immensely glad when I finally reached the door to the bar without having fallen over or embarrassed myself.

  Approximately sixteen seconds after I entered the smaller, slightly less imposing bar, simply titled ‘Claridge's Bar’, I found myself wrapped up in two strong arms and being swung around several times by a huge hunk of man, causing me to yelp excitedly as I clung on to Simon for dear life. Gosh, he felt taller than I remembered and if anything his biceps were even bigger. Life with the Royal Navy obviously suited Simon down to the ground.

  The surroundings of the wine bar blurred in front of my vision until finally Simon stopped swinging me and I could re-align my focus. Wow, this place was am-az-ing, my internal design radar couldn’t help but be hugely impressed. Done out with soft beige walls, the floors were a pale wood, and smart red leather stools lined the long bar that ran the length of the room. The bar even had a marble fireplace standing proudly at one end, but instead of an open fire it was lit with several pillar candles and had great plumes of white flowers lining its mantle. All in all this place was gorgeous. I had never ventured into Claridge's before; it was just a tad out of my usual price range, but it was typical of Simon to book somewhere ridiculously pricey when he was visiting.

  Depositing me on slightly wobbly legs Simon grinned at me boyishly, landed a sloppy kiss on my lips, then winked before slipping an arm around my waist and steering me towards a group of people I instantly recognised as his close friends. Even though I only saw them when I was with Simon they still welcomed me with broad grins, hugs, and air kisses to my cheeks before depositing a glass of champagne into my hand with relish.

  Posh champagne in Claridge's hotel, brilliant. It really doesn't get much better than this, does it?

  ‘Simon, it's so good to see you.’ I beamed up at him happily, causing Simon to drape his arm around my shoulder and pull me close for another affectionate squeeze. It had to have been at least nine months since I’d last seen him and I sighed contentedly as I snuggled against him, ridiculously pleased to be with him again. I knew he loved the Navy, and I knew he had his reasons for signing up, but there wasn't a day that went by that I didn’t miss him.

  ‘Likewise, Stella. You look great by the way,’ he said with a grin as he leaned away to check out my outfit. Smiling back I felt myself relax, the forty minutes trying to plan what outfit was suitable for such an upmarket hotel clearly hadn’t been wasted. The old favourite that I’d finally settled on was a pale gold cocktail dress and matching high heels. Apparently I had chosen well.

  My shared grin with Simon was broken when Jessica, one of Simon's friends, leant forwards and furiously tapped my arm to catch my attention. ‘Oh my God, Stella, don't look now but there's an unbelievably handsome man staring at you!’ she whispered frantically, her eyes wide with excitement as she glanced over my shoulder to somewhere behind me.

  I'm a naturally inquisitive person, always have been, so when someone says ‘don't look now’ it just makes me practically itch with curiosity and want to look even more. So I did, swivelling my neck to see across the bar before my stomach plummeted sickeningly to my boots when I saw Nathan at the bar looking over towards us. Nathan was here? Suddenly I couldn’t breathe properly; my chest felt as if I had a band around it and my heart had sped up so rapidly that it now pumped furiously in my ears as I stared at him. Standing next to Nathan was his brother Nicholas, who had bags under his eyes and still looked decidedly rough. Obviously whatever the ‘personal situation’ was, it still hadn't been resolved, but Nicholas wasn't the focus of my gaze, Nathan was – or to be more precise, the deathly glower that Nathaniel Jackson, my bad-boy bed buddy was sending my way.

  Bloody hell. Swallowing loudly I registered with trepidation that he looked immensely pissed off, so much so that I felt myself taking a small step backwards, which was ridiculous seeing as he was a good ten metres away from me. I felt a prickle on the back of my neck as a nervous sweat broke out, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t seem to tear my gaze away from the depths of his piercing blue eyes.

  This was certainly unexpected – not to mention terrifying. I'd never seen him outside of our allotted dates, how the hell was I supposed to act? Especially given the uncomfortable way that last weekend had ended. With my eyes still glued to his I found myself twisting my thumb ring frantically as a frown settled on my own brows – I certainly wasn't calling him Sir in here, that was for sure. And on top of that, what the hell was he doing here? Although actually, as I thought about it I realised it made perfect sense; the posh interior of Claridge's bloody hotel was probably just like a local pub for someone as rich as Nathan. Before I had a chance to disengage Simon's arm from my shoulder and give Nathan an attempt at a ‘hello’ wave, Jessica had leant forward and gripped my arm again.

  ‘Oh my God, Stella, I think he's going to come over!’ Jessica gushed excitedly, ‘Do you know him? Is he single?’ The slightly squeaky tone of her voice told me that Jessica was interested in Nathan, probably more than interested in him – but then what straight woman wouldn’t be? He was sexiness personified, with a heavy handed dash of broody and intense thrown into the mix for good measure. Instead of feeling jealous at Jessica’s possible interest though, all I could think about was how the hell I was going to explain this all to Nathan before he combusted on the spot.

  ‘Uhhh …’ The rest of my explanation was lost as I busied myself shrugging guiltily out of Simon's arm before looking over my shoulder again where I saw Nathan still at the bar, but now talking heatedly to Nicholas, his knuckles blanched white with tension and his brows as low as I’d ever seen them, practically hiding his top eyelids. A loud, nervous swallow escaped my throat when I caught the look in Nathan's eye as he turned towards me – murderous. Crikey, he clearly wasn't bothered about eye contact tonight because he was full on glaring at me with a fearsome glint in his icy blue eyes – which was enough to make my legs weaken below me. Biting my lip anxiously I vaguely regis
tered that my body’s instant response to him was partly from concern, but also from intense arousal, because boy, did Nathan look hot when he was bristling with dominance like this; it was simultaneously hitting me in all the right places and making me feel decidedly needy.

  Managing a limp, watery smile I was about to go across and try to explain to him when I watched in horror as Nathan muttered one final thing to Nicholas, before swiftly stepping away from the bar and striding purposefully towards me with his usual easy gait. Gulping loudly I couldn’t help but notice that Nathan had gone for his knock ’em dead corporate image; light grey three piece suit, white shirt, and a burgundy tie. He looked utterly stunning. Masculine, powerful, and controlled. He drew almost every female eye in the place with his elegant grace, and a few of the men too, but his eyes never left mine as he glided towards me with his frown still well and truly in place.

  Oh bloody hell. In other circumstances I would have been thrilled by his eye contact and undiluted focus, but not tonight, because he really looked positively freaking furious. My palms suddenly felt clammy from the nervous energy bouncing around my system and I was twirling my thumb ring so fast I was surprised it wasn't giving me a burn.

  By the time he reached my side I think it would be fair to say that my heart was well and truly in my mouth – no doubt along with several more of my internal organs if my inability to swallow was anything to go by. I fully expected him to scream at me, or demand an explanation about who Simon was, or perhaps just start a fight with him, but he did none of these. Instead Nathan simply stopped, loosened off his neck with an audible click, then grabbed my hand in a painfully hard hold and began dragging me towards the exit.

  ‘Hey, what the fuck?’ Within seconds Simon was barrelling towards us with an equally thunderous look on his face, but I desperately wanted to keep him out of this; Simon might be in the Navy, but Nathan was still bigger and stronger and if his laboured, speedy breathing was anything to go by, way, way, way more pissed off.