by Anna Antonia
“You’re mistaken. It’s the most important thing I’ve learned tonight.”
At a loss for something to say, I took another sip of my drink. The alcohol burned as I took too large of a sip. I swallowed the cough, making it worse.
Damian’s arm touched mine. “Are you okay? Was it something I said?”
Smile time.
“No. Not at all.”
Triumph flared in his eyes. Like a predator who’d just caught wind of his prey.
“I see. Tell me something about yourself, Risa.”
“Like what?”
Once again, Damian’s cool gaze raked over me. He shrugged.
“Something. Anything. We were together for months, if you include the time before, well, you know. I know so little about you.”
This was dangerous.
Temptation did me no favors. I would love to tell him more about me. Even though we had been together for a month, before, well, the bullet that landed him in Switzerland, Damian and I never really spoke.
That was part of our problem. We knew each other’s bodies but we didn’t know each other’s thoughts.
We were too wrapped up in fucking like S&M bunnies.
Not that I regretted any of that.
Sex was fun. We did it often. He tested my limits and pushed them, pushed them further and further each time.
But he didn’t know the small, unimportant things about me.
He never asked.
Now Damian was asking and I didn’t know what to tell him. Once again, the filter in my mind came out, ready to strain all my potential words and test them against what I was supposed to say versus what I wanted to say.
“This isn’t that difficult, Risa. I’m not asking for your darkest secrets. I’m just asking to get to know you better.”
“Why?”
The question came out sharper than I intended.
“Because I want to know.” His voice held the lilt of a tease. “Tell me your favorite color.”
“I already told you that.”
“I know.” He smiled. “Black. Sometimes red.”
“Then why did you ask?”
“I wanted to prove to you I listen and remember.”
That was exactly what I was afraid of.
Damian’s voice turned playful. “Tell you what. I’ll ask you a series of questions, nothing too personal, and you answer them immediately. Right off the cuff.”
He was irresistible when he acted like this. I rarely got the playful side of him. Damian had usually been too busy ‘disciplining’ me then and ignoring me now.
How could I hide behind my wall when I really wanted to come out and play?
“Okay.”
Damian’s mouth broke into a pleased smile. “Good girl.”
Hell. My panties just got wet.
“What is your favorite number?”
“Five.”
“What was your favorite subject in school?”
“College or high school?”
“Either. And no asking questions, Risa. Just answering.”
I smothered my smile. He was bossy even when we played.
“Business and economics.”
“Were you a cheerleader?”
“No.”
“Did you play sports?”
“Tennis.”
“Do you still play?”
“Not often.”
The last time had been the summer before I met Damian. Me and a couple of friends from college got together and attempted to play before melting in the scorching Texas sun. We’d lasted about thirty minutes.
“Do you love pizza?”
“Yes.”
“Cats or dogs?”
“Dogs.”
I liked cats but I grew up with those. I always wanted a dog but my mom didn’t trust them around the babies. Naturally, I wanted what I couldn’t have.
Nothing changed, did it?
“Scrabble or UNO?”
“UNO.” He should’ve known that considered we played several games shortly after I moved in.
“Lake or ocean?”
Shoot that was tough.
“Hmm…”
“Faster, Risa.”
“Lake.”
“How many serious relationships have you been in?”
Damian snuck that question in, getting my guard down into believing all his questions would be simple ones. I should’ve known better.
What did I tell him? The truth? Or the lie?
“You’re breaking the rules, Risa,” he warned with a smile.
“Just one.”
“I see.”
I bet he didn’t. It was my turn to ask him a question.
“How many serious relationships have you had?”
“It’s not your turn, Risa.”
“No, it’s not.”
Damian shrugged his broad shoulders. “Just one.”
I didn’t have to ask him who. I really knew. It didn’t hurt any less.
“Gretchen is a lucky lady."
“Is she? I’m not sure if I would see it that way.”
“What is it about Gretchen that made her the one for you?”
Clearly, I was in dangerous waters. I already knew I shouldn’t ask questions of Damian that I didn’t want answered. The man had no tact, especially when provoked.
Damian gave the question thought. He took his time answering.
Surprising.
“Gretchen believes in order and structure. So do I. She’s very independent, very strong. She doesn’t lean on me because she doesn’t have to. She lives her life by her own rules. I admired that about her.”
I took his answer in outward stride. Of course, I felt lacking and insecure because of each word.
I’ve heard it said that the hardest rival for a woman to fight was the one built up in a man’s mind. I beat it once and didn’t even know it.
Once upon a time what he admired about Gretchen would’ve applied to me as well. Before Damian.
Back when I was independent, strong and not leaning on any man.
But everything changed once I became his.
Was it because I’d never fallen in love before? Was that what made me so crazy for him and so willing to lose myself in us?
Until I decided to run away by ending things.
“Any other questions, Risa?”
“No. I’m good.”
I summoned a glowing smile, making sure to let my eyelids crinkle. Another trick from speech class. I would’ve never guessed as I sat there as a freshman, somewhat bored, that I’d one day be putting in tons of practice like this.
Damian gave me his arm. “Would you like to walk around the room?”
I stared at his arm like I would a snake. One I wanted to kiss and hold and pet, even if the little killer was going to choke me dead in the end.
I could just pat Damian on the arm and excuse myself to go to the Ladies Room. He’d surely be deep in another conversation by the time I came back. We’d make it through to the end and then he’d drop me off at my place.
Night finished. Over. Just like us.
My mind flashed to all those nights at his bedside when I feared Damian would never wake up again. I dreaded going to sleep just in case he slipped away from me during those cruel predawn hours.
So I had another choice.
I could call a mental truce. I could link my arm in his and enjoy Damian for however long I had. I could prove I learned something better than ego and spite. Damian insulted me, infuriated me, and I still loved him.
Maybe in the end I wasn’t going to end up with the man.
Fine.
Maybe Gretchen would hold his heart forever because I slipped through the cracks.
Couldn’t I just take this little bit of time with him? Didn’t I deserve a little bit of happiness with the man I loved?
Besides, it wasn’t like I was giving up my soul to Damian.
31
DAMIAN
Something changed in Risa as soon as
she took my arm.
She became fluid, molding into me in a way that proved how much tension she carried whenever she was within a few feet. Risa seemed accepting, as if she made a decision concerning me.
I wanted to know what it was even if I had no right.
That’ll come later.
I set my drink down on an empty table. I didn’t want anything to impede me from touching her if I wished. My freed hand immediately rested on her forearm. Rubbing it while I spoke, I asked, “I’m finished with my social calls. We can relax now.”
“Relax how?”
The hotel suite came to mind. Hell, it never left. It was the splinter embedded beneath the skin of the good man I so desperately tried to be.
I wasn’t a good man. I just kept pretending I was one—which was becoming harder to do.
Knowing he might have a target branded on his back, a good man wouldn’t be seen with Risa. I was selfish. I wanted what I couldn’t have.
I hadn’t stopped wanting this girl. I hadn’t stopped trying to find a way around this quagmire of secrets and lies. I knew as soon as I ordered her to come here what I’d try to do.
“We can talk.”
“Talk? It’s kind of hard when it’s so loud.”
I hadn’t really noticed.
“Don’t worry. You don’t have to raise your voice. I can still hear you.”
I could. I heard everything because there wasn’t one thing that passed Risa’s lips that didn’t interest me.
“Ah. I imagine it’s difficult when you’re so much taller than everyone else.”
“It can be a problem when you’re oversized for the world.”
Small talk again.
I could live with that. Anything better than the smooth, utterly false exchanges of before. In all the weeks we lived together, I really didn’t know much about Risa. Foolishly, I wasted so much time.
“I’d rather be oversized than undersized. Do you know how hard it is to get things from the top shelf at a grocery story?”
“You’re perfect as you are, Risa. I wouldn’t change a thing.”
She smiled. This time it was real even if it was a little sad.
“Now I know you’re lying.”
“I’m not lying, Risa. Not now.”
“Unlike other times?” She squeezed my arm once. “Don’t answer that.”
“I’m afraid I have no choice but to answer it.”
I drew her to a stop. We stood on the edge of the crowd, a part of it but separate in our own bubble.
Risa’s gaze lazily floated about like the balloons she admitted to liking. “Then by all means go ahead.”
My humor, dead these past two weeks, stirred. I found it amusing she thought to order me about. Even so, I found myself helpless but to obey her.
“You’re right. At times, I have lied to you. I can’t tell you why, but know this—I wouldn’t change a thing about you. You’re perfect as you are.”
She laughed. Bitterness flavored her tone. It didn’t suit her at all. My little girl should be shining bright, chattering over everything and nothing. Not picking her words stingily from an opaque bowl in her mind.
“I’ve been far from perfect when it comes to you, Damian. I’ve royally screwed up everything.”
“Explain.”
She shrugged. “I’ve tried so hard to be there for you, but in doing so, I’ve put pressure on you. It wasn’t fair.”
“To who?”
“To you, of course.”
Strange how she didn’t seem to think anything she’d done was wrong as far as our employee/employer relationship went.
I was glad for it.
“It wasn’t fair to you either, Risa.”
“What?”
“Bringing you here.”
Risa knocked back the rest of her drink before I could pull it away. She grimaced as I took the glass anyways. I set it on a passing waiter’s tray.
“And there we go.”
I frowned. “What?”
“This is the part where you turn back into a pumpkin and I go back into the cellar, right?”
“Pumpkin? I am not a vegetable, Risa.”
She stared at me, eyes wide with incredulousness, before she burst into laughter.
“No, no, of course not!”
I didn’t understand what she found so funny, but I was willing to be the butt of her little joke if it meant she was happy with me. Even for a minute.
I’m so gone for this girl.
Risa patted her stomach. “No, you’re right. You’re not a vegetable.”
“Then why did you call me a pumpkin?”
My indulgent tone brought out an impish dimple in her cheek. I never noticed it before.
“Because the fairytale prince was going to turn back into a pumpkin. Like Cinderella?”
“The prince didn’t turn into a pumpkin. The carriage did. The prince discovered his fetish for feet and pretty shoes.”
“Is that so?”
“Absolutely. Besides, I wouldn’t say you’re Cinderella.”
“Then who?”
I gave it careful consideration.
“I’d say you were Belle.”
Risa’s smile left. Sadness transformed her face into haunting beauty. It wasn’t my intention to make her sad.
“Do you really think you’re the Beast?”
Trust her to see right through things.
“Do you doubt it?”
She shook her head and swallowed. Her voice, suddenly husky, pierced through the manufactured gaiety surrounding us.
“No, I don’t. I just didn’t suspect you knew it too.”
The charged air became thick and heavy with expectation and a million things unsaid. I could turn the conversation back to easier things.
Of course, I never did easy.
“I know it, Risa. I’ve always known it. Why else do you think I’ve behaved the way I have with you?”
“Because you’re a jerk? A brute? A bully with a smile?”
Not the least bit concerned by who was around us, I leaned down and nuzzled her nape before whispering, “Be careful there, Risa. This Beast has teeth and he will bite.”
Merriment didn’t sparkle in her eyes as I’d hoped. They looked entirely too serious.
“You’d have to care to bite, Damian. You don’t care.”
“I do care.”
“No, you don’t. Not like I need.”
I couldn’t argue the point as my heart slammed against its mortal bars. I more than cared. I loved Risa with all the fiery passion of a man who’d never allowed himself the emotion, believing it was forever out of his reach.
How could I think otherwise?
Konstantinov blood proved there wasn’t room in our world for things like love. Love could be used as a weapon. Love gave a man a vulnerability to be exploited by his enemies.
I’d made it my mission to be above those sorts of things. To be impervious to manipulation.
Then Risa came into my life. She’d been by my side since the first moment I woke up and no matter how poorly I treated her, she’d managed to stay with me.
I didn’t have to be told I didn’t deserve her. I already knew it.
And even though I now touched her, I couldn’t do what I craved and needed. I couldn’t hold Risa in my arms for fear my love would break and shatter her.
She looked down at her empty hand. “Will you look at that? I need another drink. Can I get you one, Damian?”
“No.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to forbid her another drink when I stopped myself.
“All right then.”
Risa slipped her arm out of mine. My fingers itched to yank her back to me where she belonged.
I watched her cross the room. Something like panic lit my nerves afire.
I didn’t have any right over her. She was free to go wherever she pleased. I couldn’t hold her to me, not when I couldn’t keep her like she deserved.
“Risa, wait!”
&
nbsp; She came to a startled stop. A man crashed into her, spilling his wine all over the front of her jacket. I rushed over to her, seeing red when I saw him use his napkin to attempt to clean up the mess.
“I’m so sorry, Miss! I should’ve watched where I was going!”
“No, no. It’s perfectly fine. I didn’t see you.”
“I feel so terrible about this,” he babbled in a high-pitched whine that was like fingernails on a chalkboard. “That stain is going to set. Please, let me give you my card so that I can take care of the bill to replace it.”
Risa smiled, not falsely, which set my temper ablaze. She rushed to assure the man, “Don’t worry about it. This was just for work, so I’m sure it’ll be okay.”
That statement pushed all the bad buttons that made up Damian Konstantinov. I stepped in between them, cutting off the asshole’s contact with my Risa’s front.
“You’ve done enough. Don’t touch her again.”
“Damian!” Risa hissed beneath her breath.
The other man looked painfully embarrassed. “I’m so sorry. To both of you. I really should’ve watched where I was going—”
“Yes, you should have. You’ve apologized to the lady. Now you may leave.”
His limpid blue gaze met mine and then darted away like a fish. Gutless bastard.
“Of course. Again many apologies, Miss.”
I stared him down, long after he left our immediate vicinity. Risa pulled on my arm. I didn’t look at her until I was sure the grasping, handsy asshole wasn’t thinking about coming back to “help”.
“Damian!”
“Yes, Risa?”
“Why did you treat the poor man that way? You were unforgivably rude to him. It’s not like he did it on purpose! You didn’t have the right to try and make him feel bad for making a mistake!”
My expression arranged itself in a cold mask designed to intimidate and make Risa toe the line. I would do as I pleased, especially when it came to her.
“I didn’t try. I succeeded. And he deserved it.”
“For what?”
“For touching you intimately.”
Risa opened her mouth, frown puckering her brow. Something undefined caused me to reach out and tap her forehead with my index and middle fingers.
“Stop that, little girl. You’ll get wrinkles.”
She instantly obeyed.
Her eyes widened, shock and something akin to wonder visiting before disappearing beneath a wash of tears. A crooked grin appeared as she gasped, “I need to find a way to clean this up. On second thought, I think it’s my cue to go home. You said we’re done for the night, right? I’ll see you at work, Mr. Black-Price. Good night.”
