But Tatiana couldn’t stand the thought of being that girl who hid, who cried under the covers. She might not have the answers yet to any of the questions she’d been asking herself. But how would she ever figure things out if she didn’t keep facing the situation head on?
Hoping everything would seem clearer after a shower, she was heading for the bathroom when she saw the invitation sitting on the corner of the small desk in her bedroom.
The Seattle Family Foundation event was tonight. She’d promised to go, and though she felt like a truck had run over her, there was no way she was going back on her word.
Maybe, she thought, this was exactly what she and Ian needed—to be forced to see each other again before he could retreat even further into himself. She’d picked out a dress to wear earlier in the week—black and white silk, belted at the waist and fluttery at the knees.
But that had been before.
After, though she wasn’t nearly as angry as she’d first been when he’d deliberately tried to push her away in his kitchen with his harsh words, she was still hurt...and just human enough that she wanted to push Ian back in some way, if only to show him that she wasn’t the only one who cared.
Flipping on the light in her walk-in closet, she scanned the clothes hanging in front of her, running through them with her fingers. They were all pretty, elegant, sexy even. But none of the dresses were exactly right.
She wanted to dazzle Ian tonight, wanted his eyes to pop out of his head and his brain to turn to mush when he saw her.
The rational part of her knew that she shouldn’t use her looks, or his attraction to her, to prove that she mattered to him. But the hurt voices that were shouting a heck of a lot louder than the rational ones told her in no uncertain terms that she should do whatever she could to prove that she did.
Any way she could.
She pulled out a dress that a new designer had sent to her agent, asking if she’d consider wearing it. Slinky and gold, it fit her as if it had been made specifically to her measurements, but when she’d tried it on three weeks ago, she’d felt as if she were playing dress-up in a much sexier woman’s clothes.
Now, as she drew the thin, shimmering fabric over her naked curves and looked into the mirror, she finally realized why wearing the dress had never before felt right.
Three weeks ago, she hadn’t understood her own sexuality, how deep it ran, or how sweet it could be.
Now she did.
Her eyes, the glow of her skin, even the way her body moved—all of it felt new now that she’d learned about pleasure.
And—whether Ian wanted to believe in it or not—love.
Regardless of how harshly he’d reacted this morning, Tatiana knew deep in her heart that the hours they’d spent in each other’s arms had been special. Unbelievably precious and beautiful.
Carefully taking off the dress and hanging it up, she wrapped herself in a robe, then finally found her phone tucked halfway beneath a pillow on her bed. Hoping to find a hairstylist and manicurist somewhere in Seattle who would be able to squeeze her in at the last second, after typing in her password on the screen saver, she was shocked to find forty-six voice mails and text messages waiting for her. The top few that showed on her phone’s screen all said one version or other of CONGRATULATIONS with a special text from Mia saying she and Ford were hoping Tatiana would be free the following Friday night to celebrate her and Smith’s nominations with the Seattle Sullivan crew.
She couldn’t believe she’d completely forgotten about her Best Actress nomination. She hadn’t called Smith back, hadn’t called her sister, hadn’t even spoken to her agent. Instead, she’d jumped into Ian’s arms, kissed him, and forgot that anything or anyone else existed but the two of them.
As she stood raw and hurting—and utterly, totally in love with Ian Sullivan—in her bedroom, Tatiana had never felt less equipped to deal with the Hollywood circus than she did right then. But at the same time, she’d also never needed the distraction of it more.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Tatiana!” Joyce, the head of the foundation, looked surprised—and thrilled—to see her that evening at the entrance to the swanky downtown hotel’s grand ballroom. “Ian told us you weren’t going to be able to make it. And after we heard about your Oscar nomination, we weren’t surprised to hear you were too busy.”
“I wouldn’t have missed this for anything.” Not even a broken heart.
“We’re all so happy for you, and your nomination is so well deserved. I absolutely loved Gravity. My husband did, too, and he normally falls asleep in a movie unless there are a dozen car chases. I’m positive you’re going to win.”
“Thanks for saying that,” she replied with a smile, “although just getting the nomination was such a shock that I’m thinking actually winning would be completely overwhelming. Honestly, even thinking about what I’m going to wear that night is too overwhelming, at this point.”
Tatiana hadn’t been able to reach her sister or Smith, who were in Ireland scouting locations, and she’d guessed it was because Smith’s Best Actor nomination had made them as busy as she was. But while it felt funny not immediately sharing everything with her sister the way she always had since she was a little girl, in a way it had been a blessing.
She still wasn’t yet ready to talk to anyone about what had happened with Ian as she continued to work through her thoughts and emotions about all of it, reeling back and forth from hurt to angry to embarrassed...but always, throughout everything, still desperately in love. And utterly convinced that she was right to do whatever she could tonight to shake him up just a little more.
Still, during the ride here in the taxi she’d been more than a little nervous about the dress she was wearing. Even now, she had her trench coat wrapped tightly around her. But since her bold outfit wouldn’t be worth a thing if she didn’t project confidence along with it, she took a deep steadying breath as she undid the tie at her waist and slid it off her shoulders.
“Wow,” Joyce said, “that’s a gorgeous dress.”
“I love yours, too.” Noticing that the photographers were already pointing their cameras her way, Tatiana asked, “Where would you like me to go? Maybe I could stand over there, in front of the foundation’s logo?”
“That would be amazing. Thank you so much for doing this.”
“I’d like to do more, but hopefully this will be a good start.”
Joyce took her coat and Tatiana smiled for the flashing cameras that immediately surrounded her. She’d never stood in front of the press in quite so revealing a dress, and she could still feel the flutter of nerves inside, but amazingly, instead of wishing she could hide or cover up, she realized with some surprise that she felt beautiful.
Truly beautiful.
She’d posed for photographers a hundred times at premieres and other industry events and fundraisers, but she’d never felt quite so radiant, as though she could look down and find her skin sparkling.
Because despite the words they’d thrown at each other that morning, nothing could erase the beauty of the night she and Ian had shared. Every moment they’d been together—kissing in his office, making love in his bed, seducing each other in his bathtub—Ian had made her feel radiantly beautiful.
As a little girl Tatiana had been cute. As a teenager, cute had shifted to pretty. But now that Ian had made her his, she finally felt like a woman, inside and out.
Ian looked up from his conversation at the sudden commotion. All the invited members of the press were leaving the main ballroom at the same time to head out to the entrance hall. Instantly, he knew why they were all so excited. So thrilled.