She flew into a frenzy, grabbing her clothes from the floor and pulling them on while I slowly sat up, rubbing my eyes.
“Last night was fun,” she said, wrestling her way into her shirt. “Um, should I leave you my number?”
I got up and pulled her against my chest, resting my head on the crown of hers. “Yes,” I replied. “If you want to.”
She stepped back and smiled at me, and for a moment the world was completely still. “Yes. I want to.”
Then she continued racing around until she was dressed, wrote down her number, kissed me goodbye, and was gone.
I sighed and sat on my bed. I caught a glimpse of red out of the corner of my eye, and when I reached down beside the bed I pulled up a pair of red lace panties.
I remembered seeing them on Gemma the night before and my cock stiffened. At least this was a good reason to see her again. Not that I needed one.
I tossed the panties into my laundry basket and got out of bed, pulling on a pair of boxer briefs before ambling into my kitchen to make some coffee. While I waited, I called the laundry service for a pick up.
I set the pot to brew and was just about to hit the shower when someone knocked on my door. I grinned from ear to ear, thinking it was Gemma, and went to answer it.
I frowned.
“Good morning!” Dex chimed in a high voice, strolling into my living room like he owned the place.
He was naked from the waist up, and covered in glittery silver paint. It reflected dazzlingly in the light and I cringed when he sat on my couch.
“Don’t worry,” Dex said, swinging his legs up and laying across it. “The paint won’t rub off. Not until I want it to. Otherwise I’d be covered in handprints by now.”
Without even so much as a “how do you do?”, Dex launched into the story of his night.
“My friend James—you remember James, right?—well, anyway, he was hosting a performing art piece last night and invited me to play the part of a lonely silver spoon. I’m no Meryl Streep, but that was a role I was born to so of course I said yes. One thing led to another and, well, you know how these things can get out of control.” He flashed a wicked grin. “One moment I was fishing a wandering soul out of the soup bowl of modernity and the next thing I knew I was spooning something else. Or someone, I should say. And you know what they say about spooning.”
I stared at him blankly.
“It leads to forking.”
I groaned. “Dexter, I’ve got a long day ahead...”
“Don’t worry about me!” he declared, fluffing one of my throw pillows and slipping it under his head. “I’m going to sleep like the dead for four hours and then I’m throwing myself face first at a canvas. I’m positively brimming with inspiration.”
I wasn’t sure whether he meant to throw himself at it literally or figuratively and I decided it was pointless to ask. What I really wanted to do was talk to him about Gemma, tell him what happened and unload a little of my stress. What happened was incredible, but it couldn’t last. I couldn’t resist her but at the same time I knew this road only led to pain. I could’ve used my best friend’s advice, but he was already out cold.
Dexter’s snores, I decided, were not cute.
I ground my teeth on the way to the shower, but didn’t confront Dexter like I wanted to. I didn’t have time, and anyway, what would I say? I’d never been good at confrontation. It ran in the family. Sure, my father had no problem calling me up to yell at me about something business-related, my engagement included, but we’d had few personal arguments. He either kept his feelings locked away or they’d died around the same time my mother did.
I turned the shower on and was about to step in when my phone rang in the bedroom. At this point, I’d given up hope that it might be Gemma. It was obvious I wasn’t going to have that kind of day.
Sure enough, my father’s name appeared on the screen. He could be a nasty guy at the best of times, but there was nothing he loathed more than leaving a message, so I answered.
“Good morning.”
Fyodor scoffed. “From where I sit, it is not morning, nor is it good.”
“Perhaps you need a change of perspective.”
“Perhaps you need a good slap,” he shot back. “Why did I have to find out about this latest failure from my assistant? You should have called me.”
“Why bother when you have such capable staff around?”
All I wanted was a fucking shower and some peace and quiet. My morning had shifted considerably from the bliss I’d experienced waking up with Gemma to this.
“You’re a coward,” he accused.
I laughed bitterly. “Not wanting to deal with you and being afraid of you are two separate things.”
“You should speak to your father with a little more respect.”
“I’ll keep that in mind if I see anyone fatherly around,” I snapped. “What do you want?”
I couldn’t say what exactly made me so snappy. Normally I did my best to appease my father without forsaking my dignity, since it was easier, but today I said exactly what I thought.
Bitterness, I realized. Bitterness that the bliss I’d woken up to was an illusion, and Fyodor was the man responsible.
“You’re lucky, my boy, lucky that I’m not there to give you that slap myself,” he bit out. “America has made you soft.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have sent me here,” I said, voice rising. “I’ll ask you again, what do you want?”
For once in his life, Fyodor Orlov backed down. Well, almost.
“You ignorant piece of shit!” he yelled. “You better hope Valentina accepts your proposal this time, otherwise there’s going to be hell to pay!”
Could’ve been worse.
“Good,” I muttered. “At least I won’t be bored.”
I hung up and tossed the phone onto the bed, stripping down and finally getting into the shower. I knew I shouldn’t have poked my father like that, but the meat of his words stung me more than any slap ever could. The last thing I needed was a reminder about my twisted fate the morning after the best night of my life.
I didn’t care if Valentina rejected the ring again. I hoped she would reject it a million times, because for the first time the thought of marrying her seemed a lot worse than any form of hell or fury my father could rain down on me.
Chapter 12
Gemma
I made it home in record time, all things considered, and found Molly waiting for me at the kitchen table with two cups of coffee. Her orange hair was in vibrant disarray, makeup smudged under her eyes. She still looked gorgeous, of course. I didn’t think she could look anything but.
“Where the hell have you been?” Molly asked. “Did you not come home last night?”
“It’s complicated.”
Frustration sharpened the edges of her reply. “I’m getting that answer a lot from you lately.”
I sank down into the seat opposite and pulled my coffee over. It was still hot, so at least she hadn’t been waiting long. I warmed my hands on the ceramic and tried to think of where to start.
Molly beat me to it.
“I thought I knew you pretty well,” she said. “We’ve only known each other a couple of years but I thought you trusted me.”
“I do trust you.”
Her eyes zapped to mine. “Then why have you started acting like a complete psycho all of the sudden? You’re flighty, flaky, I’m learning shit about you that I should have learned in best friend orientation. It’s like you’re a different person.”
I took a step back and tried to understand the situation from Molly’s perspective. I might have overreacted to seeing my brother the other night, but beyond that I’d also just been all over the map. And she was right. I didn’t tell her anything and it wasn’t fair.
“Let me try to explain,” I said.
Molly sat back, opening her palms to the ceiling. “Please. That’s all I want.”
I took a sip of coffee and mulled over where
to start. I figured the beginning was as good as anything.
“I grew up wealthy, and my family had a lot of expectations that I couldn’t keep up with,” I said. “They wanted me to do certain things, marry certain people. I wanted to be a teacher, but I was a commodity to them and they made sure I knew that.” I paused, brow wrinkling. “What did Justin say about me?”
“Not much,” she said, though I got the feeling ‘not much’ amounted to a whole lot of something with the way he delivered the information. “He said you ran away from home after you graduated university, never gave any of them the chance to even say goodbye.”
“I was afraid they’d talk me out of it.” I looked down at the mug, the scent of shame mingling with coffee. “All my life they talked me in and out of things, manipulating me. I didn’t think I’d be strong enough to fight back, that I’d end up folding again.”
“They couldn’t have been that bad,” she reasoned.
I looked up and saw how much she wanted to believe that, because if I were telling the truth, that meant bad tidings for her new love interest.
“It was a long time ago, and maybe I’m oversimplifying. Maybe it was never as bad as I thought. All I know is that one day I realized if I didn’t break free, completely cut ties and start fresh, I might never get the chance again. That feeling was strong enough to send me out into the real world, which I didn’t know a damn thing about.”
She chuckled. “You sure didn’t. I still remember teaching you how to use the subway.” She cleared her throat and the humor paled. “I always knew there was something iffy about your past, and I kept waiting for you to tell me about it. I’m hurt that it took this confrontation with your brother to do the trick.”
“I don’t blame you.” I sighed and took another sip of coffee, trying to find the right words. “I never talked about it because I thought if I ignored it long enough, I’d get to move on.”
Molly raised a sardonic brow. “You ran out of a bar crying the other night at the mere sight of your brother,” she said. “You have, in no way, moved on.”
“I know.”
“And Justin? What’s his role in all this?”
I sighed. “He’s friends with the guy I was supposed to marry. Niles. And he also knows me inside and out, knows which buttons to push and when. Justin has always been the best at getting his way, with me and others around him.”
“You’re afraid of him,” she surmised.
“No.” I shook my head, realizing something for the first time. “I’m afraid of the person I might revert to when I’m around him.”
I thought about the girl I used to be, the girl dying for the approval of her father, who believed the only worth she held was in the flick of her hair and the swing of her hips. When I left, it was because I knew I wanted to be more than that, but part of me doubted I ever would be. Part of me still did.
Molly adjudicated silently, twisting the mug in her hands. Did she think this was all some massive overreaction? Was I too much of a nuisance? Would she be done with me now?
“I want you to tell me things from now on,” she said finally.
“From now on? You’re not kicking me out of the apartment?”
She nearly spat out her coffee mid-sip. “Are you kidding? We’re best friends, Gemma. We work things out. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not going anywhere, right?”
I chuckled and shook my head, relief sagging through me. I knew it wasn’t logical to assume that as soon as I presented even a slight inconvenience to Molly she’d be through with me, but I still struggled to block my father’s voice from my head after all those years of telling me how little I was worth.
“I’m not.” I blew out a sigh. “Couldn’t afford to if I wanted to.”
“Welcome to the life of a pleb.” She held her coffee mug up and I clinked it against mine.
A long silence settled between us and I shifted in my seat. I didn’t know where to go from here.
Molly must’ve sensed my discomfort.
“You know what you should do?” she said. “I think it’s time for you to start working on your dream. You always said you wanted to teach. Why don’t you?”
A different kind of shame this time. “I don’t think I could,” I admitted.
Molly frowned. “You serious? You’d be a great teacher.”
“I want to believe that, but you’ve gotta understand... My brothers are fancy lawyers. Anytime I brought home a grade anything less than exceptional, my father used it as another example of why my only worth to the family was the kids I could bring. I’ve thought about going back to school to get my teaching certification a dozen times or more, but every time I actually get close to it I freeze up with self-doubt.”
Molly’s eyes softened and she lay her hand over mine. “I understand. And I promise you, you’re not going to have to worry about that anymore. If you’re feeling low or self-conscious, just come talk to me and I’ll give you a dose of how awesome you are.”
A fluttering warmth spread through my belly and I smiled. “Thanks, Molly.”
“It’s what I’m here for.” She sat back, grinning. “I’m more than just a pretty face, after all.”
I laughed and took another drink of my coffee, now cool enough to allow me a whole mouthful.
“There’s one more thing I need to tell you,” I said. “Buckle up.”
Both her eyes and smile widened. “Go on.”
“Do you remember me mentioning that hot businessman who came into Tiffany’s a little while ago?”
“What about him?”
“As it turns out, we had sex.”
Molly jumped a little, sending coffee sloshing over the sides of her mug. “You what? But he’s got a fiancée!”
“I know, I know...” I rubbed my forehead, trying in vain to soothe some of the ache building behind my eyes. Every time I smiled at a nice memory of Nik, the reality of his fiancée smacked me in the face like a cold fish. And there was nothing less sexy than a cold fish face slap.
“Here’s the thing,” I continued. “He’s never met the woman he’s marrying. It’s some sort of business arranged marriage thing, and she keeps rejecting the ring so technically they’re not engaged quite yet.”
“You’re skating on thin ice with all those technicalities...”
I winced. “I know. It’s complicated.”
“Complicated,” Molly repeated, delight dripping over her features. “Babe, it’s one coma away from a soap opera.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Tell me more about Mr. Complicated.”
How to sum it up? His touch was fire. His voice was honey. He made me feel so good I had withdrawals when he wasn’t around.
“He’s a good man,” I said finally.
Molly rolled her eyes. “But how is he in bed?”
A red-hot blush coated my cheeks at the mere thought of his naked body pumping into mine. Molly cackled triumphantly.
“That good, huh?”
“Maybe it’s just been a long time since I’ve had sex and I forgot how good it is.”
She shook her head. “If only every session in the sack gave me that kind of blush. You had it good and I’m happy for you.” Her hand found mine and she squeezed. “I’m also proud of you for getting back out there. You’ve been struggling with it for so long, it’s good to see you take the leap.”
“But did I have to leap right into somebody’s marriage bed?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Don’t think about it like that. Like you said, he’s not technically engaged. Will he be? Yes. But you won’t be in the picture then.”
“I won’t?”
I hadn’t thought much about how Nik and I would proceed, and the cold realization that our night might have to have been a one night only thing settled into me like a glacier, carving a jagged path down my ribs.
Molly didn’t answer for me. She could see the conflict on my face.
“I won’t,” I said a second later. “Ah, crap.
I really like the guy.”
She nodded. “Think of it this way—you’ve got the good memories without any of the bad. It’s a warm memory for you to cling to on cold winter nights, but only until you find somebody else to warm those nights.”
But could I just cut Nik off? Never see him again? I barely knew him but the thought of doing so stung.
I shifted in my chair as I thought, and remembered something else.
“Shit,” I muttered.
“What?”
I grimaced in mortification. “I left my panties at Nik’s house.”
Molly let out a bark of laughter. “You saucy minx! You’ve gone from boring librarian to leaving your silky secrets at a man’s house in one fell swoop. You make me proud.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”
She shrugged. “Hey, me neither.” She grabbed my mug, now mostly empty, and walked over to the coffee machine. “I’m going to make more coffee, and the two of us are going to spend the morning together. Okay?”
I smiled. “That sounds wonderful.”
Chapter 13
Dominik
I grabbed my phone and keys on the counter, trying to remember if I was forgetting something. It felt like I was but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I took another lap of my bedroom, eyes catching on the riot of red on the top of my freshly laundered clothes. Gemma’s panties stood out against all my monochromatic clothes. Maybe that was what I was forgetting.
I knew I should return them, and I did want to see her again. I just didn’t know what to say. Thus far it had been a helluva lot easier to keep putting the conversation off. The longer it had been since the last time I saw her also meant the longer it had been since I’d heard anything from Valentina.
Which could mean that I was now engaged.
After our tryst, it was an easy given to me that I would see Gemma again sometime soon, but now the idea stuck in my throat.
I brushed the thought away for now. I needed to get to work.
The first thing I noticed as I approached my office was my assistant’s tight, anxious expression. Bertie forced a smile when she saw me.
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