Sapphire Ice

by Hallee Bridgeman

  "At what point did I imply that you would be willing to trade sex for money?"

  She stepped forward and put her hands on her hips. He didn't think she realized that they were almost nose to nose. "You implied it when you said my job was in your hands and then asked me what I'd do to keep it. You acted on it when you left me that tip."

  Her eyes had darkened to near indigo, and they sizzled with anger. He resisted every urge inside him that screamed to touch her, to soothe her. "That tip wasn't payment to get you into my bed."

  "No?" She raised an eyebrow. "Was its purpose not to make me remember you, to fawn after you, to perhaps flirt back the next time you happened to be seated at a table I serve?"

  He saw where she was leading and grinned. "Yeah."

  "Then I would be flattered that the oh so rich Antonio Viscolli actually showed an interest in little dirt poor me, and then I would perhaps jump at the opportunity for a date with you, which would, I'm sure, be scheduled out to end up with us having sex."

  He couldn't take it anymore. Just one touch, whether or not he lost the finger. He reached out and found a strand of her hair, letting it wind its way around his finger. "It isn't quite as cut and dry as that, Robin."

  His voice was very quiet. She felt it almost as much as she heard it, and his words sent a thrill through her that she didn't recognize or understand. But she didn't like it, especially coming from him. "Please don't touch me."

  For a long time he searched her eyes, holding her stare until she wanted to twitch. Then he let go of her hair and stepped away. Shaking with rage, she pushed past him and stormed out of the kitchen. Maxine and Sarah weren't even hiding the fact that they had been standing at the bar, listening to the entire conversation. "I'm going to bed," she told them through gritted teeth. She stopped just before her bedroom door and threw over her shoulder, "Alone."

  Sarah and Maxine cringed at the sound of the bedroom door slamming, but Tony leaned against the bar on the kitchen side. "Well," he said, "that went better than I'd anticipated."

  Sarah looked at him with her mouth open. "Are you out of your mind? What was it that went so well?"

  "Well," he breathed between clenched teeth, "I'm not bleeding, I still have all of my operating parts, and my voice isn't ten octaves higher."

  Maxine started laughing, laughing so hard she had to sit on an arm of the chair. She laughed until tears ran out of her face, then slowly straightened and wiped her eyes. Tony couldn't help smiling in return. "Oh, I like you. Can I keep you?"

  Sarah looked between the two of them and shook her head. "Maybe you should leave," she said to Tony. "I don't know you and I don't think that Robin wants you here."

  Maxine stood up and brushed Sarah off with the wave of her hand. "Don't be ridiculous. It's his birthday. We must celebrate."

  "Maxine," Sarah said under her breath. "Robin … "

  "… needs this." She rounded the corner to the kitchen and elbowed Tony out of her way. "Move over. I'm going to bake you a cake."

  "You're going to bake me a cake?" He stared at her in disbelief.

  "Sure." She turned her head and looked at her sister, who was staring at them both with a mixture of fear and excitement. "And Sarah's going to go to the store and buy the makings of a birthday feast."

  Sarah took a step back and held up her hands as if to ward her off. "No way. I'm not having any part in this."

  She dug through a drawer until she came up with a pen and a pad of paper. "Actually, Tony may need to go with you. I'm not going to trust you not to come back with tofu or sprouts or soy milk or some other inedible oddity."

  She quickly wrote out a list then grabbed her purse off of the kitchen table. "Just around the corner is a little market. It should have everything you need, so you won't even have to drive." She pulled out her wallet and counted out some money. "Here. This should be enough."

  He just looked at the money then back at her, feeling out of control of the situation for the first time in fifteen years. "Really, you don't have to do this."

  "Don't be ridiculous. I think it's great." Since he wasn't moving, she picked up his hand and slapped the list and the money into his palm. "It's about time things got shaken up a bit around here."

  He stared down at their joined hands. He could still smell Robin all around him, and suddenly thought that it was all a great idea. "Okay, but you don't need to give me any money. I can handle it."

  "No one's buying their own dinner on their own birthday when I'm around." She turned him around and pushed between his shoulder blades. "Go on. I'll see you two back in a bit."

  "Maxine," Sarah said. She was still standing in the same position. "I'm not having anything to do with this."

  Maxine grinned at her while Tony held the door open, waiting. "Sure you are. You have to show him where the shop is. Don't be rude to our guest, Sarah."

  Sarah tried to stare her down, but Tony watched as she fidgeted with her glasses then let out an uncomfortable breath. "I will accept no responsibility."

  Maxine smiled. "What a surprise."

  "When it all hits the fan, none of it is going to come back and hit me." She stepped out the door and turned around. "You hear me, Maxi?"

  Maxine laughed and shut the door behind them.

  SHE dreamt of him, in a very surreal, very light dream. They stood on the banks of a river, dressed in white. The warm sun shone down from a bright blue sky, and the softly blowing breeze caught the hem of her dress, slowly moving it around her bare legs.

  He wore white trousers and a white top, making his skin seem darker, his teeth whiter. They laughed and danced on the grass while butterflies fluttered around them. Then his eyes grew serious and his lips touched hers.

  Lost in each other, they fell onto the blanket that suddenly appeared on the grass at their feet. His mouth felt gentle, loving, glorious. Her hands moved in lazy patterns across his back, feeling the hard muscles, loving his strength. He raised his head and smiled down at her, and she saw the need inside her reflected in his eyes.

  Then his eyes changed. They became light blue, glassy, red-rimmed. The face lightened, widened, hardened, until she was staring at HIM. The bank of the river disappeared, the grass faded, the air chilled. Suddenly, she was in her bed. The single bed with the lumpy mattress and dirty sheets.

  A hand covered her mouth, forcing her to breathe through her nose, to smell the gin and tobacco on his breath, the stench making her stomach roll.

  She started to fight, but her legs and arms were pinned by his huge body.

  "You can't get away this time, little girl," he grunted in her ear.

  She screamed, but the sound was muffled by his hand.

  "Not a little girl, though, are ya? No, you're a woman. Or you will be, soon as I'm done with you." A hand gripped her breast, squeezed and twisted it until the pain made her vision gray. She realized that her nightgown was gone.

  Vomit clawed at her throat. No matter how she resisted, she wasn't strong enough. A single tear rolled out of the corner of her eye while his laughter echoed in her head.

  With a strangled cry, Robin clawed her way out of the dream, bolting into a sitting position on the bed. Her whole body quaked in the aftermath. Her hands trembled and her breath came in quick shaky gasps. Sweat poured over her body, and she lifted the damp tendrils of her bangs to wipe her forehead.

  Years had gone by since she'd last had the dream. Sometimes, she dreamt through to the bitter end, sometimes she could pull herself out of it in time. It was so much worse if she didn't get out of it in time.

  She was about to get out of the bed when she heard a noise in the other room. One or both of her sisters were home, so she stayed where she was, waiting for the effects of the dream to go away. She didn't want to carry the cobwebs of the nightmare out of the room with her.

  She drew her legs up and rested her forehead against her knees. Her breathing slowly returned to normal. Her hands slowly stopped shaking, and the sweat cooled on her body.

 
; Finally feeling normal again, she got out of bed, changed back into jeans and a loose top, and felt that she could face her sisters.

  Wonderful smells assailed her nose when she opened her bedroom door. Something spicy and tangy was cooking, and her stomach rumbled in response. Every step toward the living room seemed lighter, and she almost had a smile on her face as she walked the last few steps.

  She smelled it first; the underlying smell of expensive cologne. Then she heard him; that deep chuckle that sent a shiver over her spine. Maxine had better have a new boyfriend who wore costly aftershave and was annoyingly happy all the time. Then she saw him, sitting forward on the couch, a glass of water in his hand. His attention was on Maxine, and he had that irritatingly irresistible grin on his face again.

  "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," she said.

  CHAPTER 6

  TONY slowly set his glass down while he mentally prepared himself for the attack. He let his eyes casually take Robin in, noting her hands clenched into fists as they rested on her hips, recognizing the flush of anger as it moved up her neck to her face.

  God, he prayed silently, in his mind, give me wisdom and patience. I feel like You brought her into my life for a purpose. Keep me from reacting or acting in the wrong way. Keep me strong and keep me pure and tell me what I'm supposed to do here. Amen.

  She was magnificent. He wanted nothing more than to see her smile. He wanted to rub the tension away from her face, to hug her in his arms.

  He smoothly rose to his feet and walked toward her. Her sisters left his mind. Nothing around him existed except her. He never even paused his advance, his whole focus on her face. Something was there in her eyes. Dark shadows that leapt at the edges, interfering with the angry sparks that were for him alone. He wanted to make the shadows disappear. He wanted to have the right to ask her about them. But it wasn't his right. Not yet.

  "This is my house," she spat at him, "and I don't want you here."

  He grinned. His bold approach worked. Shadows started moving out of her eyes as irritation replaced them. "You aren't the one who invited me." He'd finally reached her and stood inches away. "What is the matter?" he asked her quietly.

  Her eyes widened before they narrowed. "You."

  He shook his head. "No. Something else." He reached out and put a hand on each shoulder, squeezing gently. She was too thin. She needed to gain some weight. He felt an overwhelming urge to pull her to him, to shield her from the world, to give her everything his considerable empire could offer. Only, he knew the last place she wanted to be was in his arms, so he squeezed her shoulders one more time and stepped back. "Your sister has invited me to dinner."

  As he spoke, the timer went off with a loud, "Ding!" in the kitchen.

  Robin looked past Tony to Maxine. "My sister?"

  "Looks like dinner's ready," Maxine said, hopping up from the couch. "I'll just set it out and we can eat."

  "Why did my sister invite you to dinner?"

  Maxine was in the kitchen opening the oven door before she spoke. "We're celebrating his birthday."

  Robin felt her jaw drop. "We?" she asked. She moved to the entrance of the kitchen.

  Maxine winked. "I am." She pulled a pan out of the oven and set it on the small stove. As she took the oven mitts off her hands, she turned and faced Robin. "Oh, by the way, Tony's my guest. You want to eat what I cooked, you'll have to eat with him. You don't like it, leave."

  Robin rounded on Sarah. "And how much of this was your idea?"

  "I had nothing to do with it." Sarah sank into cushions of the couch. "I accept absolutely no responsibility for this."

  Maxine leaned over the bar. "Dinner's ready."

  Robin jumped as Tony's hand came up and squeezed the back of her neck. "Smells great," he said, giving her neck a reassuring squeeze before inching past her in the doorway. It bothered her that his touch actually reassured her. She should feel annoyed that he felt like he could touch her at all.

  She entered the room and pulled her chair out. Maxine had pulled the spare chair out of her bedroom and shifted the table away from the wall so that four chairs would fit around it. Sarah squeezed past them and claimed the spot in the corner against the wall and Maxine sat next to her, closest to the stove. That forced Robin next to Tony, who sat between Maxine and Robin.

  As he sat, he held his hands out, palms up. "Do you mind if I bless the meal?"

  Sarah, whose parents did things like pray before meals, was the one who answered. "Of course. Thank you."

  Tony looked at Robin until she, reluctantly, followed Sarah's lead and placed her hand in his. She felt Maxine take her other hand, but could only concentrate on the feel of Tony's palm against her own. She bowed her head and closed her eyes. Soon, the rich tones of his voice flowed over her, and for the first time since her dream, she felt herself relaxing, felt peace edge its way into the corners of her mind.

  "Father God, we thank You for this time of new friendship and fellowship. Thank You for Maxine's generous heart that is keeping me from spending this anniversary of my birth alone. Thank You for bringing this family of sisters into my life. Pour out Your blessings into their lives and enrich them, Father. Thank You for my life. Thank You for all of the ways You have brought such joy to my life, including this wonderful meal. Please bless it and bless the hands that made it. In Your precious holy Son's name, Amen."

  He let go of Robin's hand after giving it a squeeze. She raised her head and put her hand into her lap, gripping it with the other. What just happened?

  Sarah took the lead and picked up the spoon in the dish of potatoes in front of her. "This smells wonderful, Maxi."

  Robin had never seen Maxine off balance before and was intrigued by the way she just blinked before shaking her head and coming out of it. She smiled broadly. "Thank you." She picked up a platter of chicken and handed it over to Tony. "Please eat as much as you want. There is more than plenty."

  Robin recovered from the prayer and glared at Tony while he loaded his plate and picked up his fork and dug in. Robin had no appetite, but she put some sparse servings on her plate and pushed food around while she listened, refusing to interact. Instead, she forced the anger toward him back, intentionally remembering the insult so that she didn't fall under the spell that he apparently wove around her sisters' better judgement.

  They laughed at every inane thing he said and blushed like students at a junior high dance when he looked at them. Robin remained unaffected, though. She knew his game and could see right through it. She might have been a lowly servant to him, but she'd been dealing with the public for years and knew how to read into unspoken words and body language.

  He was trying to charm her by charming her sisters. What if she occasionally let her guard down and he did just that? Then she'd remember, and slam the walls right back up.

  The comfort in his touch softened her. It unnerved her. She'd admit it to herself, if to no one else.

  She'd spent the first half of her life avoiding men. The types of the male species that her mother brought home were always far from respectable, and most had lived their lives in a glorification of evil. Then there were the foster fathers. Two of them had tried the same things that her mother's boyfriends always had. One managed to get to Maxine before Robin could get to him, and she was lucky the foster mother had been disgusted and sickened with her husband, or Robin could have easily been faced with criminal charges after stabbing him in the shoulder with his own hunting knife.

  Boys in high school had paid very little attention to her. She guessed, looking back now with an adult's eyes, that she had intimidated them. When she'd finally been settled into a relatively good home for girls – and while she made excellent grades and learned quickly – she was so far behind in school that she went to an alternative all-girls' school until she finally dropped out.

  Her defenses were sharpened even further working so young as a bartender. The advances from the patrons would just get worse and worse as the nights wore on and t
hey continued to drink. By the time she'd started working at Benedict's, her defense was a perfect air of disinterest, leaving the customers who might otherwise have been interested with the first impression not even to make the attempt.

  So, she was twenty-eight years old and had absolutely no experience in dealing with men, unless it was to serve them lunch or a drink. She didn't know how to interact with a man – especially a man like Tony – on any level. Then he had to go and comfort her as if wanting nothing in return, right at one of those moments when everything was bared naked from her dream. Right when all she wanted was someone else's back to be stronger than hers. There he was. He made her want something she never wanted before.