by Apryl Baker
True enough. He’d never looked at it like that. Once he’d gotten a bit of money and his name started to mean something in the author world, he’d accepted all the women who’d vied for his attention. He hadn’t always been an asshole, but they’d worn him down. He’d seen them arguing over not him, but his money and his claim to fame, small that it was. It disheartened him. He said as much to his father.
“Son, people are people, good and bad, man or woman. You seem to latch onto the ones who want what they can get. Have you looked for one that doesn’t see your money? Only looks at you?”
“Looked for one? No.”
“Have you ever met someone like that?”
“Becca.” His answer tumbled off his lips unbidden. “She’s been here from the beginning. She wouldn’t care if I was penniless. She’d still be my friend.”
“And what does that tell you?”
“That she’s worth more than a casual booty call.”
Ronin laughed. “Were you the one to teach your grandmother that word?”
“Hell, no. I learned it from her!”
“I swear, it’s her favorite word. She used it yesterday in line at the grocery store. Embarrassed the fool out of your mother.”
“That sounds like our babushka.” Dimitri laughed. He really needed to make time to go over and visit his family. It’d been a few years, at least.
“I’m not going to tell you to go out and start something with your girl.” Dimitri sobered up when his father turned serious. “You’re right in that taking it to a sexual relationship might ruin everything. She loves you, and if you think you can never return those feelings, then put the brakes on. Control your dick. If you love her as much as you say you do, then don’t hurt her.” He cleared his throat. “But ask yourself that same question I did. Think long and hard on the answer, before you walk away from the one woman who you make a point to speak to every day. That’s all I’m saying.”
“I will, Papa, thank you.”
Ronin coughed again, reminding Dimitri of his mother’s worries. Maybe he’d make that trip to Russia sooner rather than later.
“Your mama’s calling me. If I keep that woman waiting, she’ll never…”
“Don’t say it!” Dimitri interrupted him. That was an image he did not need in his head.
Ronin laughed. “I’ll talk to you soon, son. Love you.”
“Love you too, old man.”
Dimitri disconnected the call and sat there, staring at the trees and the flowers, thinking about everything as his Papa had asked him. He watched the sun start its descent and felt the air grow cooler as the hours passed.
Mind made up, he stood and started the slow trek back to the hotel, the pain in his legs the least of his worries.
Chapter Eleven
Becca rubbed her back. Sitting for so long really did a number on it. She’d ignored it and gotten all the pre-orders done and organized everything he’d need in one of the plastic baskets she’d ordered, from markers to pens, to his swag and business cards. The only thing she was having issues with was the banner. How the hell did people get them put up? This one was defying gravity. She’d smacked herself in the head more than once before giving up on it. Dimitri could figure it out.
She surveyed her work and felt a little pride. She’d managed to get everything done. All he’d have to do tonight was sign the books she’d already organized.
Her eyes flitted to the door like they had a hundred times the last few hours. Where was he? She kept worrying about him. He’d been in a lot of pain from his legs. What if he was out there somewhere, hurting?
He had his phone, she reminded herself for thousandth time. If he needed her, he’d call.
Which was the crux of the current situation.
He needed his friend to be friends with benefits, and she needed him to be her happily ever after. Neither of those things would happen. That knowledge caused her to toss two of the books. She’d cried all over the pages when she’d opened them to shove swag in them. No point in crying over something that could never be, she berated herself yet again. You know who he is and what he is and isn’t capable of.
And he’s not capable of a monogamous relationship for more than a few weeks, and even then, it would only be sex, not love.
The door opened, and she swiveled around to see Dimitri walk through it, his face somber. Shit. What was he thinking?
When he came farther into the room, he stopped, shocked. “You did all this?”
“Well, yeah. It had to get done, D.”
“You’ve been crying.”
She looked away, embarrassed. She was an ugly crier. Splotches and eyes that looked like she’d had a bad run-in with every allergy known to man. “It’s nothing. We need to leave in a few minutes so we can get set up. All this stuff needs to be loaded into the Jeep, and…”
Dimitri came over and wrapped his arms around her, burying his head in her hair, cutting off her rambling. “I’m sorry, Becca.”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
“Yes, I do. I left you here to do all this by yourself. I got thrown off balance for a minute, and I didn’t stop to think about all this shit.”
“Yeah, well, I’m your PA. It’s what you pay me for.” She tried to shrug him off, but he only held on tighter.
“No, I don’t pay you nearly enough to deal with all my baggage.” He all but purred into her hair and she shivered. She definitely needed to put some space between them.
“We need to leave, Dimitri.”
“We need to talk first, Becca.”
“We don’t have time.” Panic flared in her stomach, worming its way up her spine. Please, please, please not now.
“Look at me, Krasivaya.”
She pulled away enough so she could tilt her head up. His eyes were serious, but unsure at the same time. It gave her pause. What was he thinking?
“I…” He stopped and his eyes widened. “Calm down, sweetheart. I can feel your panic starting to flare up.”
“How…how can you tell?”
“Your eyes are so dilated, you might as well be in the dark. Your breathing is labored, and you’re sweating. Any other time, I’d say you’d been good and fucked.” He smiled, trying for humor, but it didn’t help. It only made it worse.
She pushed him away and bent over at the waist, trying and failing to get control of her panic. She knew what he was going to say, and hearing it was causing her to stress out more than the thought of the crowd they’d be walking into. Becca couldn’t lose him. She just couldn’t.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, babe. What do you need? Just tell me what you need.”
“Inhaler,” she gasped out. “My purse.”
He brought it to her, and she took two long, deep pulls from it, the medicine helping her brain to understand her lungs needed air. Dimitri stood there, rubbing her back and speaking in Russian. She didn’t understand a word of it, but it helped to calm her.
“Better?” he asked once she could breathe.
She nodded and sat on the overly plushy chair. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for.” He sank down on his knees in front of her. “What happened? You told me only crowds bring that on, but we were talking about…”
“It was the crowds,” she interrupted him. “I’ve been rushing around trying to get all this together without having thought about actually going over there. I guess it hit me all at once when I told you we needed to leave.”
“You never were a good liar, Rebecca Joyce.”
“Let me have my lie right now, okay?” She closed her eyes against the questions in his. “Please, Dimitri?”
His hands cupped her face and he leaned in, his breath brushing against her very hot skin. “You can have your lie for right now, Krasivaya, but not for much longer. We need to talk, but you’re right, we have to go set up.”
When his lips ghosted over hers, it caused her eyes to spring open. He grinned and tweaked her nose. “Now, get your
ass up and let’s go get this done.”
She watched him call the front desk and ask for someone to bring a luggage cart to their room and to have the Jeep brought around. He seemed more sure of himself than he had when he came in. It was a subtle change, but one she noticed. He was up to something. She just hoped it didn’t involve ignoring her unspoken pleas to not break her heart.
At least he’d given her a reprieve. She didn’t want to face that conversation. It caused her physical pain. She went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face, trying to erase the signs she’d been a blubbering fool earlier. Her face looked haunted and her eyes bruised. It was a good thing she’d brought that makeup along.
Diving back into the bedroom, she found the makeup kit in her overnight bag. She made quick work of it, and by the time she was done, you’d never know she’d been a splotchy mess. She looked damn good. Becca knew she wasn’t ugly, maybe not beautiful, but she could turn a head or two. Especially with makeup as her weapon. Tonight it would help to shield the unsure girl and give her a mask to hide behind.
No point in changing her clothes, though. She’d be filthy later.
“Shit.”
She looked up at Dimitri’s shocked utterance. His eyes were wide, the lust all bright and shiny. At least she affected him. There was that much to salvage her ego.
“What?” She cocked one hip. “Never seen a girl wear makeup?”
“Fuck, I don’t know if I want to take you over there with all those damn models or not.” His expression turned possessive and he cracked his knuckles. “Fuckers better fuck off.”
“I’m Facebook friends with most of those models. Trust me, I’ll be the last thing on their minds.” She moved around him to answer the door and let in the guy who came to collect the boxes. She moved as far against the wall as she could when he passed. Her nerves were raw, and anyone she didn’t know could set off another attack. It wouldn’t take much.
“Trust me, sweetheart, you’re going to be the one thing they all see.” Dimitri stalked over to her, completely ignoring the teenager loading boxes, and placed his hands on either side of her head, trapping her against the wall. “But you don’t belong to any of them. Got that?”
Becca nodded, unsure what the hell was going on. What was he playing at?
“Good girl.” He leaned in and kissed her, hard, his mouth reinforcing his earlier statement. When he moved away, the bellboy cleared his throat.
“Uh…Mr. Kincaid, sir…”
“My Jeep is being brought around,” Dimitri said, but his eyes never left Becca. “Load it up, and we’ll be down shortly.”
“Of course, but you need to move so I can get this out the door, sir.”
The look Dimitri shot him could have curdled milk, but he moved, allowing Becca to do so as well. She gladly put distance between them, not understanding what game Dimitri was playing. He knew how she felt; she knew how he felt. There was no getting around it. The man needed to stop messing with her.
Dimitri watched her from beneath his lashes. She was clearly trying to suss out his intentions. Hell, he still had some reservations about this, and he needed to explain himself, but the thought of all those models coming anywhere near her sent him into caveman mode. He couldn’t help it. She’d thrown him when she’d come out, the makeup only enhancing her natural beauty. Shit, he’d wanted to lock her in the bathroom and demand she stay there the entire weekend if it meant keeping men away from her.
And there would be men. She was gorgeous, even if she didn’t realize it.
“You ready?”
He grinned at the nervous quirk in her voice. At least she was as nervous as he was.
“Yeah, babe. Let’s get this show on the road.” He waited for her to get her purse, and then snatched her around the waist when she tried to walk by. She wiggled, but his hand only held her tighter. “Stop fidgeting, Becca. I need help walking.” Lies, but if it kept her by his side, it was a white lie he could be forgiven for.
As expected, she immediately shifted into concerned friend mode and let him lean on her. “How are your legs? You left before you did any exercises.”
“I did them in the park. They weren’t hard to manage. It was just the massage I needed help with.” He steered them in the elevator and hit the button for the ground floor.
“Somehow, I think you had an ulterior motive, there.”
He laughed outright at the snarky reply. “Who, me?”
“Yes, you!” She jabbed him in the ribs, which only caused him to laugh more.
This was what she loved, this easy banter they had even when they were both upset with each other. This was the easy, laidback man she’d fallen in love with.
The elevator door opened, and they walked toward the front door of the hotel. Mike, the guy from last night, was waiting with their keys at his little desk. He smiled at her, and she returned it shyly. Dimitri growled, and Mike quirked a brow. Yeah, she wasn’t the only one questioning all this possessiveness he’d found.
“Who the fuck are you?”
Becca’s head snapped around at the sound of that voice. She knew it…Christy, Chasitty, Charlotte. Something that started with a C. The bleach blonde stood about a foot away, her skin-tight dress showing off all her attributes, which were abundant. Becca looked down at her own t-shirt and capris. She felt so out of place next to this woman. This was the kind of woman Dimitri dated—sophisticated. Becca was anything but sophisticated.
“Charlene?”
Dimitri sounded as confused as she was.
“Dimitri, honey, I was just coming to your room.”
“Why the fuck would you do that?” Dimitri’s eyes flashed, his anger starting to swim up. Becca placed a hand over his where it rested on her hip, trying to stop him from causing a scene.
“Why? Because I missed you, honey bear.” She pursed her very red lips in a pout. “Didn’t you miss me?”
“No.” He couldn’t believe she’d shown up here, acting like they were still a couple. “We broke up, Charlene. A week ago. You shouldn’t be here.”
“That little argument we had?” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “That was nothing we can’t get past. I thought we could go to your signing in the morning, and then spend the rest of the weekend together.” Her eyes flicked to Becca.
“Mr. Kincaid, sir, is there a problem?” Mike came over, concerned.
Dimitri wanted to shout at the very dense woman, but he could feel Becca’s entire body tightening, and he was afraid he’d cause another panic attack, so he held his anger in check. “Yes, there is. This woman shouldn’t be here. She showed up without warning, and she’s not welcome. Please make sure she doesn’t bother us again.”
“But, darling, you don’t mean that.” Her pout became even more severe, and she took the three steps to reach them, placing her hand on his chest. “I love you.”
Dimitri let go of Becca long enough to pull Charlene’s hands off him. “I do mean that, Charlene. We’re done. I don’t know how much clearer I can be. You need to leave. Now.”
Her pout morphed into a very angry snarl. “Do you think you can just throw me away, Dimitri Kincaid? And for what? Some two-bit little whore…”
Dimitri wanted to physically shield Becca from the hate spewing from Charlene, but Becca surprised him.
“Two-bit whore?” She cocked her head, thinking. “I don’t know, I think I’m worth at least a sixpence. What do you think, Dimitri?”
He smiled. God, this woman. She pleased him so much. “At least.”
Charlene frowned, clearly confused. He opened the passenger door of his Jeep and waited until Becca was inside, before turning his attention back to the woman who didn’t seem to want to take no for an answer.
“Look, Charlene, I’m sorry if you got hurt, but you knew what it was going into it. Stalking me isn’t going to get me to see the light. I am done. Move on and find your next rich boyfriend. I don’t want you.”
He didn’t give her time to respond,
just walked over to the driver’s side and slid into the Jeep, pulling out before she could get her second wind. Damn that woman. Showing up here? How dare she?
“Well, that was fun.”
He glanced over at Becca as she plugged the address of the event venue into the GPS. She didn’t seem upset. Amused, more than anything.
“I can’t believe she showed up.” He turned on the radio. “And telling me we just needed to work through our shit? No.”
“Well, I can see her point.”
“What?” The hell?
“Dimitri, you kept her around longer than the others. She probably thought she meant more to you, that she was the ‘one.’ I don’t know why this didn’t happen sooner.”
“Becca, we discussed this earlier. They know the score…”
“Yes, and had you tossed her away like you did the rest, this probably wouldn’t be happening, but you gave her hope by letting her stick around, Dimitri. This is as much your fault as it is hers. And possibly fate’s way of getting a good laugh at your expense because of how you treat women.”
“Fate can fuck off,” he said darkly, shoving his sunglasses on. “She needs to get her kicks somewhere else.”
“Karma, D. Karma always bites you in the ass.”
She snickered, and he wanted to spank her. Dammit, she was right. He had brought this on, and it wasn’t really all Charlene’s fault. He’d led her on.
“I’m an asshole, okay? I admit it.”
“Good. You need to understand your manwhorish ways can have serious repercussions. Like creating a stalker.”
“Fuck.” He slammed his hand against the steering wheel. “You think she’s a stalker?”
“Well, she’s pretty much splashed her intentions all over your social media, and now she’s shown up here.” Becca changed the channel to country, and he snorted. He didn’t mind; it was growing on him. “I think it’s something to at least consider. Is she dangerous? I don’t think so, but she might cause some trouble publicly. You don’t want her spreading stories about you where your fans will see it. Some will come to your defense, others will wonder if it’s true, and even more still will take up her cause.”
