by Dani Collins
“It’s fine. Perfect,” Theo said, straightening into his hotel-controller role. “I appreciate your loaning him to me. As I said, just call my personal number when you’ve decided where you’d like to stay. Two weeks, any Makricosta resort. Room and meals on me. Thanks.”
“That’s awfully generous for such a penny-pinching bastard,” Demitri said as the woman walked away and the baby quieted.
Theo ignored that and only said, “Adara is worried about you.”
“Really? Weird, because she sounded more worried about the reputation of the hotels when we last talked.”
“She doesn’t deserve the silent treatment. Text her and let her know you’re alive.”
“Take a look, Theo,” Demitri said with a wave at his mostly naked, semireclined form on the lounger. “I’m a grown man. Why don’t you two stick to playing mommy and daddy with your actual children?”
“Why do you always have to make things harder, not easier?” Theo muttered, crossing his arms and shaking his head with disgust.
It might as well have been one of those backhands Theo had been talking about, only for once, it had landed on him. You have to be good, Demitri. Yet being bad had been the only way he’d known to defuse their father’s lashing out.
The guilt that had always sat in Demitri for getting away with so much, setting him apart from his siblings, slithered in him like a venomous snake, sinking fangs behind his heart. He’d always known in the darkest corners of his soul that Theo must blame him. Must secretly hate him. That was why he hadn’t asked all the questions he had about Nic, fearing the answer would be, because you’re not one of us.
“What do you want from me, Theo?” He wasn’t going to beg for their acceptance. Adara had made it pretty clear what she thought of his ability to contribute to family. Did their tolerance of him hinge on his doing as he was told? “Do you want me to toddle on back to my room? You know he’s dead, right? You’re not going to get belted this time if I stay here and do whatever the hell I want.”
It was too far. He saw the same look come over Theo that Adara had worn when he’d made his brash claim that Natalie had been trying to move in on Gideon. He hadn’t been aiming for Theo’s internal organs, but that was where his sarcasm had landed.
“Damn it, Theo,” he said tiredly. “You started it—”
“No. You’re right.” Theo blinked once and revealed a gaze that was so devoid of emotion, Demitri knew he’d been wiped from his brother’s short list of people he’d die for. “You do whatever the hell you want. Sit here and drink like him and act like him and don’t give a damn about anyone else. We’re better off without you if that’s your attitude. I’ll let Adara know she’s wasting her time being concerned. I look forward to not receiving your calls.”
“You look like a waiter,” Demitri wanted to call at Theo’s white shirt and black pants as his brother retreated.
He didn’t trust his voice, though. When he reached for his glass, his hand shook and the taste of it made his gut churn hard enough he thought he might throw up.
If they had just left him alone about Natalie...
But he knew who had really caused this chaos. They all thought they knew about protection, but for years he’d done everything he could to keep his sister from getting knocked around and his brother from being beaten.
They didn’t need his high jinks anymore, though. They were settled and happy with their little families. He only had a place among them on their terms.
He hadn’t felt alone with Natalie. Not that he’d ever considered himself reliant on anyone. Until her, he’d always felt one step removed. Different from his siblings, not like other people.
But he’d had Adara and Theo. He’d always had their back, and he’d always wondered what it would take for them to turn theirs on him. It had been his secret fear: losing them.
Which was why their picket-fence marriages grated. He could trace all the twists and turns starting pretty much from when their father had died and Adara had looked up Nic, bringing him into their lives as if he had a place there. But those were just steps that had led to this moment, when his siblings not only didn’t need him anymore, they didn’t want him.
Natalie had wanted him. Not the way that other women did. Not because of his money. Maybe because of his proficiency in bed, but also because he’d made her laugh.
She’d made him laugh. She’d been a bit of a feminist, quite a history buff, quick to weigh in on current affairs. She’d been thoughtful and sensitive, and he’d wanted more time with her.
God, he hated himself for hurting her.
Pushing his thumb and forefinger into the corners of his eyes, he tried to quell the pressure there, wishing futilely for someone to sort out this mess he’d made.
No one was going to show up this time, though. He was exactly where he’d always feared he’d wind up.
Completely alone.
CHAPTER SEVEN
AFTER LEAVING LYON, Natalie had managed to avoid going into any of the hotels for more than a month, thanks to a snowstorm that had turned the company Christmas party into a bust.
The whispers and stares had been pretty bad by the time she’d left France, but she’d taken it on the chin and powered through her assignment. Adara had defused some of the gossip by making a statement that Natalie’s special contribution working with high-level management would ensure all employees, regardless of obligations at home, would be given the same opportunities in future.
This, along with a statement that Demitri had left the company to pursue his own interests, had all become old news by the time Natalie was required to show up for the quarterly departmental meeting at the Montreal location.
The meetings were as predictable as clockwork, always taking place on the second Wednesday of the first month. They always had morning one-on-ones with various departmental managers, then a catered lunch followed by a presentation of slides and reports. Theo called in his contribution by webcam, taking questions before turning the afternoon over to the Canadian IT manager, who always closed with breakout brainstorming sessions based on the morning’s findings.
Each of these teams was making their presentations when Natalie was handed a message by a bellman who’d slipped in to find her.
Your car will be waiting at the main entrance at four-fifteen.
What car? She didn’t get a chance to ask and had to make her way to the front of the hotel when the last presentation finally finished. The limousine windows were blacked out and the chauffeur forestalled the bellman to open the back door himself.
Natalie caught sight of male legs on the far side wearing black jeans and motorcycle boots. She bent to see Demitri glance up from his tablet. The collar of his sharp peacoat was turned up against his scruff of stubble, making him look as rakish and devil-may-care as he truly was. His hair, needing a cut, looked ruffled by fingers, making her think of all the times she’d done it with her own.
Her heart rose to throb painfully in her throat, leaving a hollow feeling in her chest that threatened to cave in upon itself. She strangled out, “No.” Then she straightened to force a smile for the chauffeur, repeating a tight, “No.”
It was the only word she could manage. Her limbs began to tremble.
“Get in the car, Natalie. Or I will get out,” Demitri threatened, voice so low she barely heard it, but so implacable she had to take heed.
Alarm, the kind that accosted with sharp tingles down her arms and legs, had her looking around at the curious doormen and her IT colleagues who were leaving the hotel for the transit stations, glancing at her as she stood next to the open door of the limo. She could hear their thoughts, wondering how she afforded a private car.
She did not need to stir up gossip again.
Ducking to speak to Demitri, she claimed, “I have my own car.”
“You take the bus into the city in the winter so you can read, rather than having to pay attention to road conditions.” He tossed his tablet onto the seat opposite. �
��You told me. Want me to get out and reminisce about the other things you shared with me?”
She narrowed her eyes into lethal death rays at him.
He reached for the door latch and gathered himself.
“I have places to be,” she told him, making him pause and look at her. “A daughter to collect and make dinner for.”
If that had any impact on him, it didn’t show on his impervious expression. He only stated, “I’ll take you wherever you want to go. But I want to talk.”
About what?
She didn’t suppose she’d find out unless she climbed into the car.
A sharp wind was cutting through the breezeway, pulling at her hair and the open lapels of her coat.
With an annoyed huff, she swung her laptop bag on to the seat next to him, then plopped herself into the seat opposite so she was diagonal to him, about as far away as the confines of the car would allow. Warm, at least, if not happy.
She gave the chauffeur her address and he closed the door. The privacy window was already up, and seconds later, the car pulled onto the road.
Natalie folded her arms and stared sulkily out the side window. “Someone told me once that only lowlifes pick up women at the sidewalk. He would know, I suppose.”
A pause in which she refused to look at him. He was probably laughing at her. At the sort of treatment she accepted from men.
“You look good, Natalie,” he finally said.
She snorted, because she’d been feeling wan before she’d even made the trek into the city this morning. Zoey had been sick earlier this week, was finally well enough to be back at school, but Natalie was still shortchanged on sleep, always too worried when her daughter ran a fever to rest properly, and sitting backward in the car was making her ill.
Without explaining, she shifted to the other seat and snugged her coat collar up around her throat, returning her disgruntled scowl to the window. It had snowed while she’d been inside all day, just enough to drape the city in a fresh layer of white. Just enough to snarl traffic and persuade more people than usual to use transit rather than drive. The commute would have been a killer. She was secretly thrilled to have door-to-door service.
“I was angry with my sister and looking for the quickest way to shut her up,” Demitri said quietly beside her. “That’s the only reason I suggested you were going after Gideon. I didn’t mean it.”
If that was supposed to be an apology, he’d missed the most important word.
“She could have fired me.” Her voice cracked, more from hurt than anger, but she hoped he didn’t realize that. “I need my job, Demitri. I have a mortgage and a child to feed.” Did he think she hadn’t spent countless nights having this conversation in her head, where she railed at him and told him what a jerk he was?
Yet, when he sat beside her smelling all masculine and foreign with his special European blend of aftershave and a take-away espresso in the holder beside him, she couldn’t help remembering how those scents had surrounded her in bed, clinging to the sheets and her skin. Making her close her eyes in dreamy memory of physical satiation.
“I’m lucky she didn’t take you seriously,” she muttered, scoring herself with the memory of that day even though it was something she had spent a lot of time actively forgetting. “But your real motivation is just as awful, so whatever, Demitri.”
“What do you mean?” he asked in a dangerous tone that almost made her look, but she kept her head stubbornly turned away.
“Adara told me how you were looking for ways to dig at her and Theo.” She worked hard to keep her tone flippant, trying to act as if this was merely something annoying rather than devastating. “That you probably would have slept with any employee just to tick them off.” It made her raw inside to say it. She was insulted and sad. Very, very hurt.
“She said that?” His voice hardened with ire, stilling the swirling ache in her heart. “Look at me,” he commanded, making her turn her head with a reflexive jerk. Outrage pulled at his expression. “She said that to you,” he confirmed, looking straight into her eyes with aggressive demand. He was incensed.
Which was disconcerting. A little alarming and even heartening, since he seemed so insulted, but she reminded herself he was no choirboy. He passed along his dates to rock stars, among others.
Mentally willing her pulse to settle, she lifted her chin, trying to appear as unaffected as she wanted to be.
“Are you saying she was wrong?” She tried to sound bored, and hated that silken threads of optimism wound through her. And she braced herself for hard truth if he allowed that, no, Adara hadn’t been wrong. Natalie had been trying to reconcile herself to that reality for weeks, and it still shredded her insides. “You weren’t using me?”
“No. I wasn’t.” His gaze flinched away from hers as he looked forward. “Maybe I can see why she’d think so, but to say something like that... That’s offside, Nat. I’m really angry with her for that.”
She sputtered a laugh of disbelief. “Why? You said something awful and so did she.”
“I didn’t say it to your face. I didn’t mean it,” he shot back, dark fire brimming in his eyes as he looked at her again.
His fury was a stab into an abscess. Revisiting that day hurt so much she could barely stand it, yet his anger on her behalf released a painful pressure she’d been trying to get used to since it didn’t seem as if it would ever go away.
That bleeding of acute pain edged her dangerously close to forgiving him, though. To thinking everything that had transpired had been okay. It hadn’t been.
“Adara wasn’t trying to hurt me,” she muttered. “She was a lot nicer to me than I deserved, considering what I’d done. What we did.” She drew in a long breath that burned. “We never should have...” She flicked her free hand at the interior of the limo, “This shouldn’t be happening, either. There’s no point. Why are you even here?”
* * *
Demitri studied Natalie’s face, not liking to see her so unhappy, mouth pulling down at the corners as she looked away again. He’d been starting to think she wouldn’t show, trying to find her home address on his tablet, when the door had opened and he’d heard her voice calling goodbye to a colleague.
The brooding disinterest that had weighed on him for weeks had lifted like clouds revealing the sun. His blood had burst with a zing of enervation in his veins and his nostrils had sharpened in search of her scent. For a moment he’d seen only her torso and legs, uniform eschewed for a chic pair of knee-high boots, tights, a tweed skirt and a cashmere top, all glimpsed from the open flaps of her long red woolen coat. Lissome thighs. Round, deliciously weighty breasts that he loved to cup and fondle.
Then she’d bent down to look into the car, and her curious frown had flattened to shock followed by complete rejection. No.
Not something he’d heard often in his life.
And now, there’s no point.
He sighed, not having entirely thought this through. He’d simply realized a few days ago that given Theo’s precision schedule for his communication meetings, there was an excellent chance Natalie would be in the Montreal conference rooms today. He was doing a lousy job forgetting about her, and he’d never been one to sit back and ponder when he could be taking action, so...
“Knowing what you thought—well, what I thought you thought—about my reasons for sleeping with you, made me feel...” The unbearable churn of guilt and shame returned full force to grind within his chest. “It made me feel. Period. I don’t normally have a conscience or listen to it, but hurting you has been sitting on mine.”
He let her see his regret.
Her mouth quivered briefly before she pressed her lips flat and looked away.
“Apology accepted, as thin as it is,” she said stiffly.
“I rarely apologize. I can’t be expected to be good at it,” he retorted, stung. This conversation was not alleviating his inner turmoil at all.
“Sorry,” she grumbled, smoothing an eyebrow, then glancing
at him, somber and sincere. “I don’t like conflict or bad feelings. I mean it. Apology accepted. You didn’t mean for me to overhear you, didn’t mean what you said. Adara had it wrong. Whatever we had was just...whatever it was.”
“It was good, Natalie,” he told her, reaching across to cover the hand she dropped to the seat between them. “You know that.”
So good he hadn’t been with another woman since. Which was driving him insane. He was not used to going without sex, and every woman he took out, trying to forget Natalie, was such a poor imitation he couldn’t bring himself to do so much as kiss them. He’d come here thinking there must be a way...
Her eyes widened as if she was reading his thoughts. She snatched back her hand.
“Oh, no,” she said firmly. “The position of man-child is already taken in my life, Demitri.”
Perhaps the blow wasn’t undeserved, but it was brutally placed on an open wound Theo had kicked through his psyche. Given the breadth of responsibility he felt like he’d carried all his life, he was stung by how little she thought of him.
“That was cruel,” he told her, not entirely successful at affecting a casual tone.
“Did you honestly think we could just pick up where we left off? Are you forgetting I have a daughter? She’s the reason you broke things off in the first place.”
He clenched his teeth. There was a very convenient emotion called denial that had allowed him to set her daughter on a shelf while he had traveled here from New York. It wasn’t that he wanted to pretend the girl didn’t exist. But every time he tried to imagine how the edges of his life might accept the invasion of her daughter’s, he recalled Adara’s disparagement of his ability to be a family man. If his own sister couldn’t see it in him...
Then Theo’s “act like him” comment would echo in his head.
That one still burned. He would never, ever hurt a child, and that wasn’t really what Theo had been suggesting. No, he’d been tarring Demitri with the man’s selfishness and bent values of pride and superiority over empathy and caring.
