by Marian Tee
His continued evasiveness revealed how much he disliked her question, but that only made her even more determined to find out the truth. Knowing she had to tread carefully, she changed tactics, saying lightly, “Nik?”
He raised a brow.
She asked innocently, “How much did you like fucking me this morning?”
His gaze bored through hers. “You know how much.”
“I gave it my all, didn’t I?”
He realized where she was going, and a reluctant smile formed on his lips.
She pressed on. “You wouldn’t want me to lie back and just think of England, would you?”
“Touché.” He inclined his head to the side, acknowledging the truth in her words.
“So…” She looked at him hopefully.
“I prefer keeping the truth of my identity hidden as it…reduces the possibility of having to encounter people who want to be in my life for the wrong reasons.”
Daria flinched. She might not be one of the smartest persons in the world, but even she knew when someone was doing his best not to insult her…even if she deserved it. It was bittersweet, knowing that Nik didn’t want to hurt her but also knowing that Nik still believed she was a gold digger.
“Do you have another question?” Nik was doing his best to ignore the way Daria had paled at his answer.
She managed a smile. “Nope.” And then she didn’t talk after that.
When it was time to clear the table, Nik insisted on helping her despite Daria’s protests. He waited for her to speak, willing her to say anything. But by the time they were done drying the glasses, she still hadn’t said a word.
“I don’t like it when you’re quiet,” he said curtly.
And I don’t like it when you’re trying not to be an ass to me, Daria thought. It made her want to kill herself for being an idiot.
To distract herself from her misery, she asked, “Why don’t you want me quiet?”
He shrugged, saying reluctantly, “I like you chattering.”
The words stunned her. “Y-you do?”
He didn’t answer, and the shuttered look on Nik’s handsome face told her he thought he had said more than he should. “I’m going to take a shower,” Nik muttered.
He left her staring after him, open-mouthed.
Nik liked to hear her chatter, she thought dazedly. The one thing almost all of the 28 frogs she dated had complained about, and it was something Nik liked about her.
Nik. The most sensible man she had ever dated. The man she had loved and lied to. The man God gave Daria to be her prince.
Nik was naked under a powerful blast of hot water when he heard the door slide open. A moment later, he saw Daria, exquisitely naked, step inside and join him in the shower.
She had the loveliest smile on her lips, and his cock became fully erect in an instant.
Reaching for the soap on the tray behind him, she said huskily, “Part of, umm, services I’m supposed to render.”
Nik stiffened when Daria stepped close to him, the tips of her breasts brushing against his chest. “Daria—” He was unable to continue, Daria running her hands over his chest as she soaped his body making his arousal reach a feverish pitch.
And then she started to talk.
Gradually, it became clear to him. Daria was chattering, the way he had asked her to. And with every damn word, he was unable to stop her from breaking the walls of defense around his heart.
Goddamn. Beautiful. Liar.
He thought of the words to remind himself of the kind of woman Daria was, but it was too late. The rage he had lived with during the past month eluded him now, leaving him almost as vulnerable as he had been when he had first met her.
That night, they lay in bed, facing each other, an entire half-foot separating them.
An entire day had passed. One full day of being in Daria’s company, but somehow it didn’t feel enough. The knowledge disturbed him, but even as common sense urged him to leave, Nik remained where he was. He might as well be chained, the way his body was addicted to Daria’s.
Daria shifted, and when he glanced back at her, she whispered, “Tell me more about your childhood.”
“I haven’t fucked you for that yet,” he pointed out.
“I’ll give you an IOU,” she answered promptly. “Now, tell me.”
He thought of refusing. He considered what she would gain from the knowledge and couldn’t think of any since the NDA he had her sign protected him from every kind of threat she represented.
So why ask? Was it really because she wanted to know where she went wrong? Or was she asking because she wanted to see if there was something she could do to enslave him again?
She would be disappointed if it was the latter. Eventually, she would know that whatever lessons his childhood taught him – none of it had been as effective as Daria’s own betrayal had been. She was the one who taught him about love and distrust, and it was a lesson he would never forget.
“Nik? It’s okay if you can’t—” Daria stopped at Nik’s shake of his head.
Nik started to speak.
His tone was completely dispassionate as he gave her a concise summary of his childhood. The more she listened, the more aghast she was and the harder it was not to cry. She could see how Nik was deliberately using technical terms to eliminate any kind of drama in his story, but it didn’t work.
She only had to read between the lines, and she hurt.
He had issues of displacement.
It meant Nik felt like he didn’t belong to anyone.
Certain foster parents proved to be unfit due to a conflict of interest.
It meant they had wanted his money more than they had wanted him.
He had spent most of his formative years with Beth Lewis, but the responsibility of caring for a teenager who was not related to her by blood eventually took its toll.
It meant Beth Lewis had hurt him the most, but Nik still believed it was his fault for expecting more than he should have.
When Nik was finished speaking, he was surprised to see Daria’s eyes bright with unshed tears. “You look like you’re about to cry again,” he said flatly.
She nodded, mumbling, “I probably would have long ago, if I was allowed to.”
Nik blinked. “Allowed? Someone’s preventing you from crying?”
She hesitated before explaining, “I don’t let myself cry as a punishment.”
He was even more puzzled. “Punishment?” When she didn’t answer, he said quietly, “Daria?”
Daria took a deep breath. “I’m punishing myself for hurting you.”
This time, it was Nik’s turn to become silent. It was tortuous to wait, and she found herself swallowing convulsively while her heart began to stutter again.
Up, down, up, down—
But it was a rollercoaster journey that was more terrifying than exciting.
“Daria?”
Her gaze jerked back to his. “Yeah?”
“Never say anything about the past again.” Nik’s chilling voice made his unspoken threat clear, and her heart crashed as it realized that Nik wouldn’t hesitate to leave if she didn’t concede to his wishes this once.
In Nik’s eyes, Daria insisting to talk about the past was Daria admitting she wanted to make a fool out of him again.
Her eyes burned more painfully as she whispered, “I promise. I won’t talk about the past again.” And she wouldn’t. She couldn’t.
From now on, all she would be able to do was love Nik without saying a word and hope that in time, he would hear her. Understand her. Forgive her.
Chapter Seven
The days Daria spent with Nik eventually fell into a routine. Mondays, he would leave early from work, arriving at her apartment right after lunch. So far, they still hadn’t been able to make it to the bedroom. They almost made it last week – Daria’s back was against the bedroom door, both of them still fully clothed. Mondays were always spent entirely in her apartment. She would have groceries delivered, and both of them
took turns cooking. If they weren’t making love, they were either talking or doing something together.
Fridays, Nik skipped work completely, joining Daria as early as breakfast. Fridays were like date nights, only they lasted twenty-four hours, and they were always surprises. One night, they had gone club hopping, another day they had played tourists in Staten Island. They had attended a museum auction to buy artwork for his home, gone around Central Park in a carriage, and enjoyed a popular Broadway play with front-row seats.
Daria never spoke of the past when they were together. Nik never said goodbye when he left. And in the seven weeks she had been his mistress, Nik had demanded her presence outside of their scheduled days only once.
He had wanted her to accompany him in his flight to Europe. The moment she had boarded his private jet, Nik wordlessly took her to his cabin, and Daria earned her mile-high club entry that night. Only when Nik had gone and left her alone in the jet had she realized with mortification that the noise they made – her cries and the thump of furniture against the cabin’s thin walls – would have made what they were doing obvious to anyone who could hear it.
And since she had been pretty sure the whole crew heard them, Daria had desperately avoided everyone’s gazes the entire flight back.
Remembering the incident made Daria sigh now. Their arrangement wasn’t perfect, she knew, but she was also aware that she hadn’t been this happy since the days she had spent with Nik on the island.
Sighing again, Daria padded towards her desk and pulled the main drawer open. Taking a seat, she rummaged through the magazines and sketchpads until she found her calendar. It was custom-designed, with only Mondays and Fridays to make the waiting more bearable whenever Nik wasn’t with her.
As she slashed a red X on the eighth Monday, Daria heard the door open as Nik stepped out of the shower. She hastily put the calendar back inside her drawer and took out her sketchpad, pretending to be busy.
“You’re going to work at this hour?” Nik was surprised. She had never worked while they were together.
“Umm, yeah. I need to give this to the printer tomorrow.” She flipped the sketchpad open to a blank page. “Do you mind?” She expected Nik to simply shake his head and leave her be. Except for that one time in the island, Nik hadn’t bothered asking her about her work again.
But instead, she saw Nik reach for the stool from the dresser and, pulling it closer towards the desk, lowered himself on it. “Mind if I watch you?”
Daria blinked. “You want to watch me work?”
“That is what I said,” he answered dryly.
“Why?” she blurted out.
He shrugged.
“Are you sure you won’t be bored?”
“I doubt it.”
Realizing that was all she was going to get, she mumbled, “Up to you.” Pulling the smaller drawer open, she took out her pencils and paints and started to draw.
Nik quietly watched Daria work, and as her drawing came to life, it was obvious that she had also started to forget Nik and her surroundings. Her face was a picture of concentration, with her brows furrowed, eyes narrowed, and lips slightly parted.
Daria was just working, Nik thought broodingly. Just Daria moving her damn pencil on paper. She wasn’t the first artist he had seen working either, so why the hell couldn’t he take his eyes off her?
When Daria looked up, her neck and fingers were aching. A glance at the alarm clock on her desk told her it was already one in the morning. She had been drawing for almost an hour.
She quickly looked behind her and was startled to find Nik still there. Startled and pleased, but by now she knew better than to let him know that.
Putting her pencil down, she asked, “Do you work at home, too?”
“Yes.”
She made a face. “You’ve got communication issues, do you know? I mean, really.”
Nik rolled his eyes. “Preferring to answer a question with yes or no is your definition of a communication issue? Really?” He mimicked her tone with the last word.
Daria giggled, caught by surprise by Nik’s rare display of humor.
Seeing that she was still rubbing her neck and hating the sight of her in pain, Nik came to his feet and took her hand away. He started kneading her neck, almost smiling when Daria moaned in pleasure.
Daria closed her eyes as she surrendered herself to the pleasure of Nik’s touch. “What kind of work do you do at home?”
Her sleepy tone made the urge to smile harder to resist, but he managed, answering mildly, “The usual.”
Without opening her eyes, she made a face again, but as soon as she did, Nik bent his head and kissed her on the mouth.
Oh!
When he lifted his head, Daria still had her eyes closed, but she wore a dreamy expression on her face. “Mooooore.”
Third time was the charm, and this time Nik failed to stop himself from smiling. “Spoiled little vixen,” he murmured in Greek.
Her eyes opened a little as Daria asked suspiciously, “Did you say something bad about me?”
“Not at all.”
“I don’t believe you.” She sighed. “But your touch feels so good, I’m going to forgive you.”
“How magnanimous of you,” he said.
“You might as well speak Greek when you use words like that.”
He allowed himself to smile again, but only because Daria’s eyes were closed now.
When her head started to fall, Nik swept her up in his arms and placed her on the bed, tucking her in before joining her under the covers.
She rolled immediately towards him, snuggling against his body. She was the only one who cared to do that. Not even Miranda had ever displayed a desire to have contact with him after sex.
“Nik?” Daria mumbled. “Maybe next time you can bring your work with you here, so we can work together and you don’t waste your time.”
Nik didn’t answer.
Beside him, Daria, who had only been pretending to be sleepy, tried not to be disappointed. No harm in trying, she told herself. She could give it another week or two, and then she would try again.
But when she woke up the next day, the first thing she saw upon coming out of the bedroom was a brand new iMac set up on an equally new office table in the corner of her living room.
Walking to it, she saw a note on the keyboard.
Out to buy breakfast.
Will be working here today.
I hope you don’t charge me for rent.
Nik
As soon as she read the message, she spun around and ran back to her room. Snatching her cellphone from the dresser, she hurriedly sent a group message to Alyx and Yanna, telling them exactly what had happened.
Daria: You guys believe me now, don’t you? Nik’s starting to forgive me! It’s God giving me a second chance!
Yanna: I think so. :)
Alyx: The devil has many disguises.
Daria: You’re so paranoid.
Alyx: Wrong. It’s called being REALISTIC. He’s the DEVIL. So stay away from the devil!
“Ready to eat?”
Daria almost jumped a foot, and the words were out of her mouth before she realized what she was saying. “Speak of the devil!”
Nik had one shoulder leaning against the bedroom’s doorway, one eyebrow raised questioningly at her.
Damn you, Alyx, Daria thought even as her heart skipped several beats before jumping into a rollercoaster for another ride. Up, down, up, down it went as Daria struggled not to show just how exhilarated she was at seeing Nik.
He had obviously showered, and he had changed clothes, too. Gone was yesterday’s formal suit, and it was replaced instead with a maroon V-neck shirt and denims. A casual look, but with Nik’s air of sophistication, the clothes became catwalk-worthy.
“You look beautiful,” she blurted out.
“Thank you,” Nik said solemnly, “but that’s not going to make me forget you called me a devil.”
She colored, protesting, “
I wasn’t talking about you.” Damn you twice, Alyx. “Actually, I was speaking to the devil.”
“Ah.” A knowing expression crossed Nik’s gorgeous face. “Alyx?” he guessed correctly.
“In one,” she confirmed sheepishly.
Nik pulled her close to him, and bending down, he whispered against her lips, “Tell your friend…”
Her eyes closed. “Tell her w-what?” She arched her neck as his lips moved down, her body shivering at the little kisses Nik pressed against her skin.
His mouth moved back up, and he bit her lip. When she whimpered, he said silkily, “It takes one to know one.”
Daria froze.
And then his meaning sank in, and she burst into peals of laughter. Nik didn’t laugh with her, but she did catch a glimpse of amusement in his eyes before he caught her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss.
After, he murmured, “Good morning.”
Daria was dazed. Was that his version of a good morning kiss? If so, could she buy reserves of it?
The rest of the day passed in a haze of pleasure. This was the first time Nik was spending the entire Tuesday with her, and the entire time Daria struggled to keep her impulses in check and not blurt out anything that could ruin this perfect moment – no, this perfect day – between them.
Did he notice how much things had changed between them, Daria wondered. Did he realize he never called what they did fucking anymore? Did he realize that he had become such an integral part of her life he didn’t just know her closest friends and vice versa – he also knew her passwords, her brand of shampoo, her favorite food for breakfast?
Did he realize that all these things made Miranda seem like his mistress and Daria his fiancée?
Chapter Eight
From the window of her office, Miranda stared down at the creeping pace of traffic below, knowing that one of the cars coming out of the building would belong to her fiancé, the mysterious Greek billionaire Nik Alexandropoulos. The most eligible catch that the world never knew about, the man whose ring was on her finger.
And yet, Miranda thought, that same man couldn’t leave the office fast enough to get to his mistress. If she had known things would turn out this way, she would have let Daria Everest be the fiancée and she’d have stayed on as his mistress.
