“We pulled in at the same time. He unloaded my parcels.” She didn’t look at him.
“Enrico got with Sandra.” Dean had no fucking idea why he had to say that, except it was true and maybe he didn’t want her to hear it from anyone else. Unless Sandra had already told her.
His comment was enough to make Amy give him her eyes. “You sicced him on her, Dean? To ask about me and he used her? Tell me you didn’t do that.”
Not willing to fight with her on the landing where everyone inclined might listen in, he drew her inside. “I asked him to check with her. I wanted to find you.”
“And you couldn’t ask her yourself?” Amy tossed her purse on the coffee table and wrapped her arms tightly across her chest. Her breasts plumped and rested on that makeshift cradle and Dean tore his eyes away from the enticing sight. He was in the shit. Again.
“I was putting out the fire Burnett ignited, Amy. I couldn’t be in two places at once, and Sandra wouldn’t have given me the time of day. Her loyalty is to you.”
She muttered something sounding like, “You might be surprised.” And walked back to that one person chair to drop into it and stare out the window. Dean stood awkwardly for another moment then set the sacks down beside Amy’s purse.
“You buy some new clothes?”
“With your money.”
He dug deep for patience. “Good, that’s what it’s for.” And was rewarded with a glare. He wondered if this was how she acted when she was a teenager and if an ass whupping then had worked to correct her attitude. He was becoming obsessed with that ass. Not that he’d really raise a hand to her given her condition. Any ass paddling would have to wait until it could be doled out as an erotic spanking—she liked those.
“Do you want to eat here or go out?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Goddamn it!” His voice thundered and echoed in the space and Amy flinched. He modulated his tone as best as he could. “Respect, Amy. Being civil. You might remember how, if you cast your mind back. I’m trusting you. Hold up your end.”
He tugged off his boots and they hit the floor by the door with a satisfying thud. He stalked into the bedroom to change. “Put something on you’ll want to wear to the steak house.”
Bags rustled in the living room and Amy passed through his line of sight to shut herself in the bathroom. Dean sighed. His temper had always been close to the surface, sometimes useful in his line of work, but he could control it, too. Except around his woman, apparently. At least, not when she was displaying this side of herself. He chose a tailored pair of pants and a long sleeved dark shirt, toeing into a pair of comfortable shoes, one eye on the bathroom. Was she crying in there again? Plotting? Shit. He was going to expire with need, but seducing Amy would be highly counterproductive and Dean was a good strategist. Except for losing his temper. But goddamn it to hell, she pushed his buttons. He missed his mostly sweet Amy and had to accept it was his own doing.
“I’m sorry for being rude. I’m ready.” Amy emerged from the bathroom, wearing an amazing dress, the blue patterned material clinging to her high breasts to fall away around her waist before fitting snugly around her hips and thighs. It skimmed her knees, detracting a trifle from the incredibly sexy look. Probably all that saved it from being inappropriate wear outside of the condo. The blue kitten-heels raised her to nearly eye level, if only she’d tip her head back and give him her eyes.
Dean forgot what she said and sifted through his memory bank to ensure he made the correct response, determined to say nothing that could be misinterpreted. “Apology accepted. I’m sincerely offering mine. We should go.”
****
Dinner was an extremely polite, civilized affair. Dean felt like he was on a blind date, or at least what he assumed a blind date felt like. The only animation Amy displayed was related to the couple she worked for in Santa Rosa, and she blithely asserted her intention to visit them in the near future.
“I’ll take you. We’ll find a time.”
Visibly struggling with her response, Amy gave him a grimace he supposed might pass for a smile and nodded.
“Not good enough, Amy. Words.” He didn’t allow non-verbal communication in any important walk of his life.
“Yes, Dean.”
“You can introduce me, sweetheart. Especially if these people are going to be part of your life.” There. He could be flexible.
Amy rolled her eyes. “They don’t need the kind of trouble you can cause.”
“Then we’ll get together someplace neutral. But I want to meet them.”
“Fine.” Dean, like every other man on the face of the earth, knew what that word, spoken by a woman in that particular inflection, meant. But he chose to take it at face value.
The rest of the meal passed with him carrying the conversation. Amy displayed no interest in his comments about the legal side of his business and he avoided any mention of the other part. He figured he should broach the baby issue.
“When are you due?”
“Middle of March. Around St. Paddy’s Day. I saw a GP but I need an OB-GYN soon.”
“I want to go to those appointments with you. All of them. And I’ll take those coaching classes with you for the delivery.” He heard his words ring true, to mirror the feelings in his heart, and Amy’s startled gaze turned to wary acceptance.
“Okay.”
“And you keep me apprised. How you’re doing, feeling, everything. Let me help you, be there for you.”
“As long as you respect my boundaries.”
His inner caveman surged. The urge to put her under him, show her how insane it was for her to deny them both, was so strong, the other diners faded away, the sounds of china and utensils dissipating. Dean breathed through the need and nodded. Absolutely no verbal confirmation was passing his lips, but Amy appeared satisfied. Know thine opponent, sweetheart.
Chapter Fourteen
The next several weeks passed in an interesting mixture of pleasure and torment for Dean. Amy slipped back into her housewife role almost without a ripple, picking up her web design contracting with equal aplomb. It felt eerily normal with the exception of the fact Amy refused to have sex with him. She didn’t refuse the reinstatement of Lois, and he recognized how tired she was such a lot of the time.
Sleeping with Amy, and being in close proximity in the condo, was sometimes excruciating, he wanted her so badly. He took care of himself in the shower, determined to wait until she came around, although the hold on his restraint became more tenuous every day. It helped to accompany her to the excellent doctor he found at Sandra’s hospital, following along with the growth and development of their child, especially at the ultrasound. His possessiveness, coupled with a sense of tenderness he didn’t know he was capable of, cooled his jets. A little. Their baby was cagey, refusing to give up its sexual identity to the ultrasound technician, but everything else was proceeding well. Dean tried to pretend he didn’t tear up at the sight of that little creature curled up within Amy’s womb.
Any morning sickness was confined to the morning, thank God, with the exception of certain smells and foods her stomach objected to. Her occasional retching and suffering because of the fruition of his seed left Dean feeling helpless and wishing he could change places with her. She let him hold her head and wipe her face with wet cloths, and press one on the back of her neck. Caring for her was intimate and gave him hope she would come to trust him again—and let him have access to her body once more, although that was truly secondary.
Amy grew more beautiful with each passing day of her pregnancy, any stomach upset notwithstanding. Her skin glowed and she radiated an inner serenity Dean envied, believing she had fallen into dissociating the sexual part of their history, using the skills honed by earlier survival. He was eternally grateful to have her back in his life, making meals, keeping his house, being there when he came home, her burgeoning belly living evidence of his legacy, and hoped he was doing enough to assure her of his sincere concern for her w
ell being. True to his word they slept in the same bed, and therein lay the rub. Once asleep, Amy snuggled with him just like she used to, but it was simply that. Snuggling. Grinding his teeth and jerking off in the shower was his lot, for now.
They didn’t argue, Amy’s sweet side moved fully to the fore, and he thought he was successful in shielding her from the continuing evidence that all hell was going to break loose, certainly before their child was born. All his meetings with Randy, and the forays into his territory, tracked rumors and other slight indications that someone was sniffing around the perimeter, nibbling on the fringes. His experience taught him that a big push to take over could be imminent.
He soon had to tell Amy the truth and make plans for their future, and include her in that planning. But he wanted all of her before he did so, uncertain if it was because he thought their renewed sexual connection would mitigate the fact he’d withheld some important information, or if he thought she’d withhold forever. She definitely wasn’t getting a prize, but he wasn’t ever letting her go.
His life seethed with uncertainty despite Amy’s serene and apparent acceptance of hers, and it was taking its toll. Dean was becoming increasingly concerned, anticipating the move from that shadowy crime lord, but he was unable to do anything further to guard against it. He worried about Amy, and he worried she would pick up on his anxiety.
They went to have dinner with Francine and Harold, and Dean made an immediate attempt to disarm their cautious and slightly hostile attitude by expressing his earnest appreciation for taking care of Amy during their temporary separation. After fielding a variety of arch comments from Francine, he made good progress as the older woman dissolved into giggles and flirtation.
Harold was a tougher nut to crack. The man listened and withheld his judgement and Dean was concerned he hadn’t made his intentions clear, but after one particularly piercing stare, apparently accepted Dean’s sincerity. However, he didn’t miss Amy’s wistfulness when they bade the couple farewell and resolved to keep in contact with his woman’s saviors. They might well play that role again in the near future. He’d send her to stay with them if he thought it in her best interest, depending on what happened in the next while with the shadow man.
****
Amy wasn’t certain she liked this state she was living in, kind of a floaty, beatific frame of mind. It was like she was drifting, and nothing really made an impact. She suspected it was primarily because she was pregnant, the soup of hormones simmering and making her calm and acquiescent. It helped that she was living with a man who took very good care of her without any expectations other than wanting to spend time with her. Oh, she knew he wanted to have sex with her. The evidence of that poked her backside each and every morning and each and every night when they were in bed. And she caught him looking at her like she was lunch. Of late, Amy battled a resurgence of physical need she could only combat by thinking loving and sweet thoughts about her baby, and sometimes morosely wondered at the veracity of her thinking—that a relationship without hot sex with Dean was indeed what she wanted. Her painful memory of his treatment of her that day had begun to fade in the face of his caring and respect of her wishes, and that damned feeling of hope had set roots in her heart again, wanting to believe he wouldn’t pull the same shit.
“Everything going okay, Amy?”
She pulled herself from her musings and smiled at Sandra. “I’m good. Really good. Hardly any more morning sickness and I feel—content. Best way I can describe it.”
“You look it, too, like a Madonna or something.” Sandra smiled back and Amy was struck by how pretty her friend looked. Her skin wasn’t so pale, and she moved with more confidence somehow… Amy couldn’t put her finger on it.
“Are you seeing Enrico?” She had no idea where that came from.
“Off and on.”
Well, shit. What was that about? She thought they were friends. “Nice that you thought you could share.” Amy heard the hint of tears in her own voice. Damn hormones.
“Oh, honey. Sorry. It’s just that … well, Enrico and I…”
Amy shook her head. “It’s okay, Sandra. I’m hardly someone you want to ask for relationship advice.”
Her friend pushed up from the couch and went to the fridge, returning with the pitcher of lemonade. She topped up their glasses, then set the jug down with a thump on the coffee table. She didn’t use a coaster, totally not Sandra.
“I thought he was fucking me to get information on your whereabouts. And he’s a criminal.”
“Holy shit.” Amy had absolutely no idea what more to say. Sandra’s brown eyes were downcast, and her hair fell forward to mask her face.
Her next words were muffled. “I was attracted to him that night at Grand Masters, but dismissed it. Blamed it on the booze. I was determined not to go there. Determined not to feel any kind of attraction. And then he was assigned to follow you and just seeing him was like … it made my heart beat faster and it was hard to breathe.”
“Oh, Sandra. That’s chemistry.”
“How am I supposed to know what chemistry is, Amy? There was no chemistry in my experiences on the street. Just a lot of abuse and being used. Disgusting. Men were pigs. But Enrico is so assertive yet polite, and he’s so good-looking. And I’m not.”
It was Amy’s turn to be fierce. “Don’t say that. Looks aren’t everything, but you play yours down. You know you do.”
Sandra raised her eyes at that slightly convoluted piece of reasoning. She laughed a little. “You’re biased. Anyhow, when you took off, Dean sent Enrico. I didn’t know anything and thought that was the last I’d see of him, but he kept coming around, and one thing led to another.” She paused, clearly out of breath.
“He didn’t force you.”
“God, no, Amy. Does he look like a man who has to force a woman?”
“How a man looks doesn’t necessarily determine the kind of sex he wants,” Amy said darkly. “Dean told me you and ’Rico had something going on, but I didn’t want to think it.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought you would have told me. And because he’s a criminal, too.”
Pushing her fingers through her hair, Sandra sighed deeply. “I put him out when Dean came to see me right after you called. I knew Enrico told him. His first loyalty is to his boss, and I didn’t want that, and I didn’t want the risk. I wanted to be someone you could come to if it all goes bad with Dean’s business.”
“You broke off a relationship with Enrico in order to be a safe haven for me?” Amy burst into noisy sobs, the first emotional outburst since she’d accepted some of Dean’s terms, and he’d agreed to hers. “You can’t do that.”
“I can’t,” Sandra agreed, scooting over to put her arm around Amy’s shoulder. “He wouldn’t give up, and sometimes I’m weak.”
Drying her tears on her sleeve, Amy touched Sandra’s face. “Do you love him?”
Sandra turned away, pulling her arm back to her side, shaking her head. “Don’t know what love for a man is, either, honey. Enrico can get any pussy he wants at any time and probably does when I won’t open the door to him. I’m going to move as soon as your baby is born and I know you’re okay. But I took my own advice to you when Dean brought you back—I’m going to take anything Enrico will give me until I leave. There’s no happily ever after for the likes of me but I’ll pretend awhile.”
Despite the shock and the penetrating sense of loss, Amy made herself nod. Sandra’s fear of intimacy was such a big part of her, and if her instincts were telling her to run, Amy wouldn’t argue. She was terrified for her friend. She asked one last question.
“Does he love you?”
“He says he does, which makes me question his sanity and his motives.”
They sat quietly, lost in their thoughts for a long time, and Amy wondered if Sandra’s sadness was a profound as her own. Her cell rang, Dean’s ringtone, and she answered.
“Where are you, sweetheart?” Was there a hint of somethi
ng other than loving interest in his tone? Annoyance? Concern? She couldn’t detect any, and part of her, a part asleep for some weeks, woke up and flexed.
“At Sandra’s.”
“We have reservations for six.”
“Oh, shit. I’ll be right home.”
“Do not rush, Amy. If we’re late, it’s no big deal.”
He was allowing her to drive the Audi, despite grave misgivings, making her promise to drive sedately. Given her hormonally regulated state, it wasn’t an issue, and she definitely didn’t want to drive the now repaired mommy’s van. At least, not until after the baby was born. She wished she hadn’t made such a big deal about it.
On the one hand, she recognized the fact Dean was worried about her driving the sporty convertible, concerned about her safety. On the other hand it ticked her off that he didn’t think she’d be sensible.
“I’ll be home in twenty.”
Hugging Sandra, who looked back to normal, Amy grabbed her purse. “We’ll talk again soon, Sandra. Who knows what the next few months will bring?”
Giving a tiny shake of her head, Sandra pursed her lips and didn’t respond. She walked her to the door and hugged her back, hard. “See you soon, honey.”
****
Amy drove home with care and caution. She had no doubt one of Dean’s men was in the traffic behind her and knew Dean would do something like take away her keys if he got a report she wasn’t being sensible. He met her at the door, pulling her inside, bending to kiss her cheek.
“I put that new dress out for you. Do you need to shower first?”
Amy never dreamed that Dean would become a lady’s maid and nearly giggled. “Nope. Had one before I went to Sandra’s. I’ll hurry.”
She hustled out of her maternity pants and loose shirt. Baby was really making an appearance now, all out in front. She looked like she’d swallowed a watermelon. As she smoothed her hands over the bulge, she saw Dean watching from the doorway. The look on his face made her heart ache, all tenderness and caring. He crossed to her and gently rubbed her belly.
Forever (Eternity #1) Page 23
