Love's Learning Curves
Page 7
Sheridan waved a hand as they left the gaping woman in the parking lot staring after them.
“How long do you think it’ll be before they’re calling to tell them who was in the car?” he asked her. He chuckled with the glee of a little boy, sharing in the joke.
“As long as it takes to grab a phone,” Sheridan replied, feeling absolutely vindicated by Belinda’s reaction. With her hands in her lap, she let her head sag to the buttery leather of the seat, ready to relax with a glass of wine and her comfy sweats. “Don’t forget the suit. Silk blend Italian is sure to be mentioned.”
“They noticed that, too?” he asked, surprise woven through the question.
“They were totally stalking you. Belinda wanted to know if we were dating.”
“What did you tell her?” He flipped the turn signal on.
“I didn’t answer her.” No point in lying. In truth, Sheridan hadn’t dared put a label to their relationship. She kept waiting for him to wake up and realize what she was, as in ‘not skinny’. The same way Brant had. The same way Luc had.
He reached for her hand, his warmth seeping into her with a rare comfort. It wasn’t lost on her how just his touch made the pain of Luc’s cruelty diminish until it faded away. Sheridan knew he thought it had been Brant who’d made her gun shy. It hadn’t been. Brant had actually been the first since Luc for her to want to try again. He hadn’t been anywhere near as brutal in his judgment, but his emotional and physical apathy hadn’t done her self-esteem any favors either. In hindsight, they’d simply been a convenience for each other.
A bare few moments later, she felt the car ease to a stop. The rush of his breath surrounded her fingers a second before his lips caressed her. His voice was close to her ear before she knew he’d moved. Her eyes snapped open.
“Sheridan, it’s time you realized something.”
Expecting a stop light, she gaped in shock taking in her surroundings. He’d parked in front of Le Pont. With the car idling, a valet scurried around to his side to open the door. His thumb stroked her hand beneath his on her thigh.
“We are most definitely dating.” He leaned forward, capturing her lips. “And you are most definitely with me.”
The possessive growl in his words sent a whip of desire coursing through her. She swallowed, nodding in silence. It was the most she could manage. He’d stolen her voice with the fire raging in his eyes for her.
“Wha—” She was interrupted when the door popped open. A valet in a crisp red vest and standard uniform stood at her side. “Huh?”
“Dinner, love. I wasn’t kidding. I’m hungry.” His grin had warmed his features into a little boy’s infectious charm.
“But, I’m not dressed for dinner,” she exclaimed, swinging to stare at the front of the restaurant then back to him. She was dolled-up like someone’s poor excuse for a pineapple.
“Oh, believe me, you are,” he replied right before he nibbled at her fingers. Somehow, she didn’t think he meant the kind of ‘dinner’ you ate with a knife and fork. The thought sent a shiver coursing through her body. Releasing her, he exited the car. Sheridan was utterly lost.
“Ma’am?” A hand was waiting for her.
Grasping it lightly, she twisted on the seat and met Dario outside the vehicle.
“Be gentle, Kyle. This isn’t the Mercedes.”
Kyle nodded with a broad smile, and a youthful lusting gleam for the car. “Yes, Sir, Mr. Acardi!”
Sheridan’s head was whirling. “They know you by name here?” With a hand to her lower back, she had no choice but to walk with him up the red fabric carpet through the glass and gold emblem doors. Le Pont was the exclusive reservation-only French restaurant in town, and he just walked in with a fifteen minute warning.
“I’ll explain over dinner. It’s not a family vaulted secret,” he said, winking at her playfully. “I’ve waited all week to be with you again. Tonight is ours.” The doors opened with a whooshed flourish of sound, and opulence spread before her.
Biting her tongue, she could only hope she didn’t embarrass him.
Chapter Ten
“I have to say, what you did today was very commendable. I’m not sure I would’ve done the same thing for an ex.”
Sheridan sipped at her coffee, a quizzical tilt moving her chin. “Why do you say that?” The dishes had been cleared from their shared appetizer and dessert, neither wanting anything too filling that late at night. The calm of the restaurant and the barely discernible string music playing around them added to the intimacy of their table. The room was quieting, though they weren’t the last ones remaining.
“Well, after the way he treated you, I think you took the whole situation with a great deal of aplomb.”
She set the china cup down. “Treated me?”
Dario scooped up her hand. “I’m sorry.” He paused. “Maybe I have the wrong idea.” But he doubted it. Encasing her hand between his, he said what had been on his mind since that afternoon. “Did he emotionally abuse you?” Dario was positive she hadn’t been physically abused. Everything he’d witnessed stemmed from her self-image.
Sheridan was quick to shake her head, her eyes widening in an instant. “No!” She lowered her voice, but continued. “He was quiet, to be honest. I always wondered if I was doing things right. He never showed encouragement, just…” She shrugged. “I guessed he was uninterested in sex in general. We were both comfortable with the status quo. The occasional weekend together and if things happened…” She let it trail off. “Especially with my focus on my classes.” She lowered her gaze to her trapped hand. “It wasn’t until Kay met Rush that I began to realize I was shortchanging myself, probably hiding as much as I was avoiding. When I wanted more, he wanted out. It happens.”
“Sweetheart.” He purred, lifting her hand to touch her to his lips. When her liquid gaze met his, he asked, “Who hurt you?”
She swallowed, her lips parting as she leaned back marginally. “Why do you think—”
He gave her an admonishing look. “I’m beginning to know you,” he told her tenderly. “I want to know everything about you. And I don’t want to hurt you. I know someone did. If it wasn’t Brant, then who?” Because if he ever saw the bastard, Dario was going to rip him to shreds.
She firmed her fingers in his hand. “Why do you think someone hurt me? I wasn’t abused, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“No, I don’t think that in the least.” He tapped his chin with their clutched hands. “If I told you right this second that I thought you were stunning, the most beautiful woman in the world, to me, would you believe me?”
She laughed shakily. Though she blushed prettily at the compliment, she shook her head. “Of course not.”
“Why?” He scooted his chair closer, sitting side by side rather than face to face. “If I’m telling you, and I believe it, why don’t you?”
“Because I know I’m not.”
“Who told you you weren’t?” he demanded gently.
Liquid and edged with a deep remembered pain, she blinked.
“Was it someone you dated? Someone you grew up with? Someone close to you?”
“Why does it matter?” Her voice was hoarse trying to control the tears. He ached seeing them, but he refused to let her carry this disillusionment another second, or let it continue to hurt her.
“Because it’s hurting you, Sheridan. It’s keeping you from me. I meant what I said in the car. I want to be with you.” He forged forward, knowing it wouldn’t be easy for her, or for him to hear it. “There’s a part of me that I know is desperate to meet you, but until I know deep down that you trust me, I can’t.” It was the closest Dario had ever come to exposing his nature. He slid a gentle finger under her chin. “Sweetheart, I care for you. I want to take care of you. Let me help you with this.”
Lowered lashes stole her soul away from him again, but she didn’t physically withdraw. Space, give her space. So, he waited.
“Several years ago, I was in love.
Luc. I’ve never been model perfect. I just don’t have the physique. I thought he was okay with that, that he loved me, cared for me, and maybe he did. But the opinion of his friends mattered more. I overheard them telling him what time would do to my figure. If I had kids…” She swallowed, the bitter pain clear in every word. He stroked his thumb over her hand, letting her take her own time, but sharing his support. “It burned. I was humiliated. Then he began talking like them, demanding I do anything it took to make myself prettier in their eyes. Instead of supporting me for the person I am, he wanted me to fit into the mold his friends had set.”
Dario hadn’t realized he’d begun to growl until her eyes shot up. “Dario?”
Lowering his head, he rested his forehead on their joined hands, breathing deeply to hide his beast, and his anger. The urge to unsheathe his claws, to let his cougar free to destroy this Luc was beyond anything he’d ever experienced. He may not have physically laid a single hand on Sheridan, but what he’d done to her self-esteem was pure abuse.
Sucking air through his nose to calm himself, he was finally able to reply, “I hope to God I never meet him. I will kill him.”
A sharp, short gasp was her reaction. “Why? It was a long time ago, Dario.”
“Because his stupidity almost destroyed the most beautiful person I’ve ever known. The most beautiful soul and woman.”
She glanced away, and he felt her will want to shut down. “Don’t.” Cupping her cheek, he brought her back to him. “He was a bigger fool than Brant, only he took his weaknesses out on you. Let me make this very clear.” Uncaring of appropriateness for being in public, he brought her into his embrace to speak right into her ear. “I don’t think you’re beautiful. I know it. I don’t think about what other people say, because I’m the only one allowed to make that decision for me. If you had any idea the number of impure thoughts I had in that church, I’d have to go to confession for a week, if I was Catholic.” Brushing a single kiss to her cheek, he moved away, wanting to see her expressions on her face. “Sitting there today, I saw no other woman, I wanted no other woman.” Holding her steady, he pressed his lips to hers. “I want no one else, Sheridan.” He nudged closer again. “And if you want the honest truth, I love your breasts. They drive me fucking wild.”
She giggled, startled by his statement and the underlying growl of lust that Dario didn’t try to restrain.
“In fact, let’s stop by your place for a change of clothes. I want you to come home with me tonight.”
Sheridan sat straight in her chair. “Your place?”
“Is that okay?”
Fidgeting in her chair for a moment, indecision ripe in her posture, she finally calmed, and with a soft smile appearing, said, “Yes. I would like that.”
With an arm around her waist, he guided her outside where the valet had his car already waiting. Helping her inside, he took the time to ensure she was buckled in, then straightening, paused on the way for a lingering kiss. “Sweet,” he murmured. Then he popped the door closed and rounded the car, relieving the valet of the door with a handshake and a tip. “’Night, Kyle.”
“Bye, Mr. Acardi.”
With a grin, he buckled up and put the Alfa Romeo in drive. “Ready?”
“Completely.”
With a smile he felt to his heart and soul, he drove to her apartment.
* * * *
Sheridan let Dario take the overnight bag from her shoulder, leading her through the garage. It was a large garage, but other than the 8C, the only other car was his Mercedes taking space. She’d expected more extravagance than she’d seen so far. Though the house was in a gated community, it wasn’t exclusive to the rich. Well, maybe the better off, she mused.
“I hope you’re not disappointed,” he said, turning on the lights in the kitchen.
She swiveled to stare at him. “Why would I be disappointed?”
He grinned and rolled a shoulder. “The car isn’t the real me. I usually have it stored, but brought it out earlier this week just for the weekend.”
“You went to all that trouble for me?” She almost stumbled walking through the door, unprepared for his admission.
Setting her bag down on the kitchen table, he said, “Honey, I’d do anything for you.” With a chaste kiss on her lips, he shucked his jacket to rest on a chair back. “Come on. Let me show you the abode de Acardi.”
“That didn’t sound Italian.”
Reaching for her hand, he told her, “Because it wasn’t.” He smiled when she laughed at his antics. Threading her fingers through his, he started in the kitchen then led her through the dining room. The large table set for four was a beautiful pecan masterpiece, large enough to sit eight.
“Don’t let the table fool you. My maid does that. I never eat there.”
“Why not?”
“What? And disturb her wonderful efforts to make it look so good?” He winked with charming glee.
She continued to watch him. He was enjoying this, like showing his best friend his prized card collection as he gave her the tour of his house. “It’s only one storey.” He popped into the rooms, letting her see where things were placed. Each room had a purpose. One was his at-home office, another was a library, and another was a guest room fully decorated with a queen bed and set.
“Before I show you the master, let me show you the back.” He tugged heavy curtains clear with the pull rope, and then eased the blinds partially open. With a flick of a light, she uttered a surprised “oh”.
“Amazing,” she breathed.
A large brick deck with a railing stretched from the rear of the house. A covered hot tub sat in a corner and a multi-use barbecue station aligned the opposite side. What drew her attention even beyond that was the rolling expanse beyond the deck. Hills and trees as far as she could see into the darkness. It wasn’t as deeply forested as the land Rush’s house abutted, but it was still breathtaking. It even made her wolf stand up and take notice. “Beautiful.”
With a cautious note in his explanation, he told her, “I like to run in the hills. Gives me time and space to think.”
“I can see that,” she agreed. Sheridan usually ran behind Rush’s though she hadn’t lately. Sadly, no matter how much her wolf side exercised, she’d never managed reaching more than a size fourteen. It was all on her human genetics, not her shifter side.
That was when she realized that her wolf had grown silent. Trying to find her inside, she wasn’t hiding, or indifferent, she was simply calm. When had the whining stopped? She was grateful, but it confused her. Sheridan got the impression her wolf liked Dario. Which was saying something considering the other relationships and men she’d been around. Safe. Sheridan felt it all the way to her bones. Her wolf knew she was safe with Dario. Sheridan almost negated the inner voice; she didn’t know enough about Dario, or what it all meant. They’d known each other a week, but it seemed to matter little to her soul shifter.
Was this normal? Why didn’t she get more of a reaction? Rush had known. Why couldn’t she? This was frustrating. It wasn’t cheating, damn it, if the guys could do it, but she really couldn’t tell by instinct if Dario, if any man, was meant to be hers.
Staring out into the green hills, she could see her wolf running wild there. The image, the idea, pleased her wolf and she brushed against Sheridan’s insides, sharing the quiet hunger to run. You like him, don’t you? Her wolf only nuzzled closer. It was the first time her wolf had ever shown an interest, or approval.
That realization also brought up the worry about telling him about her wolf. Would he fear her? Fear the wolf? Hate her? Despise her? Sheridan had never even felt the want to tell Brant, and Luc… She’d almost told him. Now she couldn’t be more thankful she hadn’t. Surprisingly, she wanted to tell Dario. Wanted him to know everything about her. He’d said he wanted to know about her, help her. The only way they could continue would be to explain the whole truth to him. But when?
“Where’d you go?” A single caress warmed her cheek, his
finger halting beneath her chin.
Blinking, focusing on his concerned features, she said, “Just thinking.”
His mouth quirked to the side. His next response told her he was worried about what direction her thoughts had been going in.
“Well, before you start thinking I’m Midas, I’m not. The company owns the land. It was the surest way to keep it natural. The community was built to protect it. This area will never be expanded and it’s several hundred acres deep. No one person can decide to sell any part of it and none of the board will ever let it be commercialized. The house isn’t even paid for, but I did have it built the way I wanted.”