Cunning

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Cunning Page 2

by Aleatha Romig


  I’ll keep in touch. Hopefully we can still run on Saturdays.

  Love,

  Your little cousin

  My heart ached as I took one last glance at Patrick’s apartment. My thoughts and emotions were too jumbled to put it in words. Too many things had happened and too fast. My heart wanted what Pat and Cy shared. I didn’t want to think about how they met or how Nox and I found our way back together. I wanted to think about the fairytale, the way Patrick and Cy looked at one another, and the way my tummy fluttered at merely the thought of Nox’s gaze.

  I couldn’t think about my employment at Infidelity or about being owned. The way I was able to put one foot in front of the other was to look at everything in a new way. In my newly contrived perspective, I wasn’t bought by Nox: I freely gave myself to him.

  That was what I decided as I dialed Isaac’s number.

  ISAAC BARELY SPOKE as he drove, leaving me time to think. I couldn’t wrap my mind around what had happened, where I was, or even where I was going. The tumultuous tsunami of emotions billowed within me, the threatening winds frayed the edges of my well-bred façade. Nervousness and anxiety churned within me, their only outlet the uncharacteristic bobbing of my knee.

  My current situation was almost unfathomable. I couldn’t imagine how I’d feel if I were on my way to meet a stranger. How did that even work? Did the client and employee meet over drinks like a blind date? Surely they didn’t move in together immediately. Nox was different. He wasn’t a complete stranger. Granted, I only learned his last name today, yet I knew much more than a name.

  I knew that he possessed an intensity that fascinated me. I remembered the way deep navy swirled in his pale eyes when his emotions ran high. I’d seen only a snippet of his anger or annoyance with Max at the pool and then again as he spoke to someone on the phone. However, mostly the navy I witnessed was brought on by desire—something he wore like cologne, the need emanating so strongly that it lingered in the air, filling my lungs and laboring my breathing.

  My insides twisted and tummy fluttered as memories surfaced. I tried to come to terms with the reality. Soon, I’d be with him again. Unconsciously, I shifted on the leather seat, ashamed of how aroused I was by the mere thought. The tightening deep inside of me wasn’t new, but it’d been absent since Del Mar. When Chelsea and I’d boarded the plane, I feared I’d never again feel this yearning. A small grin broke through my mask.

  Isaac pulled the car over, making me aware of my surroundings. I hadn’t expected to arrive so soon. Even with slow traffic, we hadn’t traveled far from Patrick’s building. I looked up at the front of the Mandarin Hotel.

  “This is where you’re taking me?” I asked, wondering how much Isaac knew about the situation.

  “Yes, ma’am. Would you like me to help you with your bags?” he asked as he opened my door.

  Taking his hand as he helped me from the car, I said, “No. I can get them. I only have the two.” But before I finished my reply, he placed a room key within my grasp.

  Isaac pulled an envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket and handed it to me. “This is from Mr. Demetri. He said to tell you not to open or read it until you’re in the suite.”

  I took a deep breath.

  He said to tell me.

  That shouldn’t make the butterflies in my tummy flutter, but it did.

  “The room number is on the back of the envelope,” Isaac continued, seemingly oblivious to my mental and physical state of both fear and arousal. “You have my number. If you need a ride anywhere, I’m at your service.”

  “Thank you, Isaac.” I cleared my throat. “Mr. Demetri isn’t in the room?” I didn’t know if my words sounded as disappointed as I felt.

  “No, ma’am. He’s at his office. I believe the letter…” He tipped his head toward the envelope in my hand. “…will explain everything.”

  “All right. Thank you.”

  As I turned toward the glass doors, a small bit of Central Park caught my eye and I turned. The warm city breeze moved small wisps of my auburn hair around my face as I stared. It was exactly what I needed. My cheeks rose at the glimpse of trees. The green leaves reminded me where I was—that I was still here, still in New York City, close to my cousin, and near Columbia. No matter how surreal the last twenty-four hours seemed, I was still where I wanted to be. Lifting my chin, I nodded at the doorman and took a step closer to my goal.

  Ornate lighting shone from a golden oval above my head and reflected onto the stunning marble floor of the lobby. The opulence neither impressed nor awed me as my gaze moved to a large staircase that curved up and behind the concierge’s desk. Briefly, the staircase reminded me of Montague Manor, but this one was different, more modern with a glass banister.

  The micro-thought of my childhood prison steeled my resolve. I might be an Infidelity employee; however, I was also a Montague. My new temporary role was for one reason—law school. I hadn’t been forced to sign at Infidelity. I chose to do it, finding it the solution I needed. Waiting tables would never pay my tuition, let alone allow me money to live. My mother and Alton pushed my hand and underestimated my desire. I was doing it so I could continue my dream, not theirs.

  Alex Collins was a survivor.

  With my newfound determination, I stepped quickly to the concierge desk, allowing the click-clack of my heels to announce my arrival. When the concierge looked up, I smiled. “Could you help me with directions to my room? I’m staying in…”

  Each word I uttered exuded Montague confidence, not the shame of an Infidelity employee. Immediately, the concierge called for a bellman. Despite my protest, he insisted that it wouldn’t be right to allow a guest to roll her own luggage to the executive suite.

  As the elevator ascended, I recalled something Karen said yesterday, why employees of Infidelity were expected to be well-spoken and successful. If they weren’t, in this different yet similar world of smoke and mirrors, they’d be discovered. The companions on the arms of successful clients needed to be believable. Thanks to my Montague upbringing, when it came to illusion, I was a master.

  I did my best to appear nonchalant as the bellman used my key to open the door of the executive suite. As he flipped the switch in the dark entry, I scanned the luxurious suite. Beyond the light illuminating the foyer, the furnishings appeared modern and sleek while the walls were covered in heavy drapery that kept the late afternoon sunlight at bay.

  “Ma’am, I apologize,” the bellman said as he hurried across the living room, “your suite has a spectacular view. Let me open—”

  His feet and words stopped. My heart leapt to my throat. Stepping from a darkened doorway was a man who immediately dominated the executive suite.

  “Sir, I didn’t know that anyone…”

  I no longer heard the man in the Mandarin uniform. Nox was all I saw. His silence filled the air, muting anything else. His pale eyes narrowed, capturing mine. Without words his icy gaze bore through me, planting my feet and sealing my lips. Displeasure radiated from his every pore. Rage rippled from his chiseled jaw as the muscles in his face and neck flexed. My knees grew weak as I realized this wasn’t the man I remembered, but rather the man whose voice I’d heard on the phone call.

  Only minutes earlier there had been so many things I’d planned to say and questions that consumed me. Yet now with Nox before me, none of them surfaced or made their presence known; instead, the suite warmed as my heartbeat raced. I gripped tighter to my purse. With the winds of his displeasure swirling about the suite, I needed an anchor, something to ground me.

  For only a second, I considered turning and leaving. Would he stop me with the bellman as a witness? And then just as quickly I knew it wouldn’t matter. Nox Demetri had influence, more than I’d realized. I took a deep breath. I wouldn’t be outrunning the powerful man before me, not for a year.

  Let the dog-and-pony show begin.

  Nox reached into his pocket, removed his money clip, and handed the bellman a few bills. Finally, he sp
oke, shattering the silence with the power and majesty of rumbling thunder. Deep echoing words, not even directed at me, set my nervous system on high alert. To the outside world, the window coverings were just draperies, but inside they were the boundary containing the brewing storm, one that had already eclipsed the sunshine. Like other forces of nature, its strength was beautiful and frightening. The question, I wondered, was what destruction would be left in its wake?

  From my peripheral vision, I saw the bellman’s lips move as he backed away. When Nox spoke, the meaning of his words was lost. The tenor and tone reverberated through me, leaving my mouth dry and insides clenching. Before I could process, the click of the closing door signaled that we were now alone—I was alone with the man I’d dreamt of, the man who fascinated me, the man who currently owned me.

  While we stared in stunned silence, the temperature of the room continued to rise. This wasn’t the reunion I’d imagined or dreamt about. Closing my eyes, I inhaled. The woodsy scent of his cologne brought back memories, clouding my thoughts and tingling my skin.

  Blinking my eyes, I tried to swallow, to speak, but I couldn’t. The last few hours left me bewildered while his unexpected presence rendered me mute. I thought I had time before I would face him. Isaac said Nox was at work. He’d said he wouldn’t be here, but here he was.

  “Miss Collins.” Nox’s frosty greeting stilled the heat bubbling within me, covering everything in a layer of ice. I stepped back, trying to focus on his eyes, wanting to see the pale blue.

  Nox had other plans. Before I could process anything, he was in front of me. A gasp escaped my lips as his large hand encircled my waist and pulled me forward. The touch was electric, sending sparks in every direction. It was the lightning to his thunderous voice, and I was in the eye of the storm.

  “Miss Collins, answer me. Do not make me repeat myself.”

  I lifted my gaze as he pulled me closer, and our bodies melded together.

  What question did he ask?

  Though his words were cold, his touch was hot, blistering my skin. The stark contrast incited prickling goose bumps upon my flesh. Our hearts beat erratically as our chests united.

  “Nox,” I finally managed.

  Roughly capturing my chin between his thumb and forefinger, he corrected, “Mr. Demetri. We’ve had this conversation already.”

  I tried to nod willing the tears of the last few days to remain at bay. “Mr. Demetri.”

  Brushing my long hair over my shoulders and away from my face, Nox continued to stare. Imprisoned in his grasp, I stood still as my eyes adjusted, and the strain of his expression became clear: the pulsing of the vein in his forehead and neck, the clenching and unclenching of his jaw.

  I wanted to touch him, to remember and for him to remember me. As I lifted my fingers toward the stubble of his cheeks, I recalled his directive on the phone, telling me to thank him. The words were once again on the tip of my tongue. However, before I could touch him, Nox released my chin and seized my hand. His grip tightened painfully around my fingers.

  “No,” he said, his face moving closer to mine, “Miss Collins, new rules. My rules.”

  With our lips close and his warm breath bathing my cheeks, his curt tone and clipped words created a new chasm between us. Though we were only inches apart, our separation seemed wider than it had been since the day we parted.

  “Speak, Miss Collins.”

  I watched his full lips as his unfamiliar tenor filled my ears.

  “I’ve yet to hear anything from those beautiful lips except my name.”

  Whatever he tells you to do. Karen’s words repeated like a sickening cadence in the recesses of my mind.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, the words cracking with pent-up emotion.

  Nox took a step back, his stare never wavering. Slowly, the tips of his lips curled upward. It wasn’t the sexy, menacing grin I’d learned to adore. This was different or maybe it was his eyes. The pale blue was glacier ice, absent of the navy swirls, absent of emotion. Calculation and determination shone in his gaze, sizing me up, scanning for weaknesses, and searching for secrets. I’d seen that stare before. I’d lived with it.

  My neck straightened and stance stiffened as I swallowed my last drop of saliva. “Thank you, Mr. Demetri.”

  “For—?” he encouraged.

  “For helping me.”

  The heat of his grasp disappeared as he released my waist, throwing me off balance and causing me to stumble backward. My shoulders collided with a wall awakening me to my surroundings and the fact that we were still in the entry.

  With all things Nox, I hadn’t realized that we hadn’t even entered the suite. The dark rooms beyond our bubble grew more ominous as Nox paced a small circle before stopping in front of me.

  Looming nearer, he replied, “Wrong answer, Miss Collins. I am not helping you. I’m helping myself. That’s what I do. What we had in Del Mar…” He gestured between us. “…what we did, that wasn’t me, not the me who succeeds in this filthy world. That was the me who believed he’d met a princess who enjoyed being treated like a slut.” His lips pressed together as he slowly shook his head. “You deceived me.”

  I opened my mouth to disagree, to explain that I never deceived him, not about who I was, not about who I was with him. Then he uttered the one word that silenced me.

  “Charli.”

  The weight of my one-week nickname crushed me.

  “N-Nox, let me explain.”

  “The truth seems to be the opposite.” His chin rose defiantly as he turned toward the darkened living room. “Come, Miss Collins. You have rules to learn and penalties to experience.”

  A COLD CHILL ran through me as I willed my feet forward. Déjà vu bogged my steps, as each one sunk deeper into invisible quicksand. I couldn’t survive a year with this Nox—no, with this Mr. Demetri. Somehow I had to revive my Nox.

  He stopped and turned on a lamp near the sofa, illuminating a small portion of the darkened room. Sitting within the circle of soft light, he leaned back and unbuttoned the grey jacket of his suit, revealing a white linen shirt and light blue tie. The tie moved as his wide chest expanded and contracted with each breath. All the while his stare drank me in.

  “Come closer. I want to see you and appreciate my investment.”

  Slowly, I moved forward. His eyes unashamedly scanned up and down, lingering on some areas longer than others. The trail burned, not as it had before, but with a scalding sense of shame. Silence continued to tick away as I stood before him. Uncertainty filled my thoughts.

  When Nox shifted, his physical reaction was visible.

  “May we discuss—” I began.

  “No. Do not speak.”

  I blinked my eyes and took a step toward the sofa.

  “Stop.”

  I did, mid-step. Merely a foot away was the man to whom I’d given my body and heart, and yet it wasn’t him. I didn’t know who this man was.

  “Rules, Miss Collins. New rules.”

  I lifted my chin. “So you’ve mentioned.”

  He tilted his head to the side. “Make me a drink.”

  I followed the direction he’d indicated. There was a bar, complete with many bottles of liquor.

  “A-A drink?” I asked with audible confusion. It wasn’t the first thing I’d thought he’d want me to do.

  “I know you saw doctors at Infidelity. Did they check your hearing?”

  I straightened my neck and found my most placating tone. “What kind of drink would you like, Mr. Demetri?”

  “Scotch, on the rocks.”

  So this was this my new job—to be his waitress?

  Swallowing my pride, I walked to the bar and read the different bottles. I wasn’t a scotch drinker, but I found a bottle I recognized from Alton’s personal favorites. Thankfully, the ice bucket was full. I filled the bottom of a cocktail glass with the square cubes and poured the strong liquid over the top. The smell reminded me of the drink Karen gave me earlier in the day. Once I was fi
nished, I turned back around.

  Nox merely nodded.

  I handed him the glass. “Your scotch, sir.”

  He swirled the ice and amber liquid, momentarily mesmerized by their dance, and then his pale eyes were back to mine.

  “Take off your clothes.”

  Shock undoubtedly showed in my expression and tone. “What?”

  After taking a drink, he sat the cocktail glass upon the table and grinned. “Come here.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  “My days of making exceptions are over. It’s time you learn my rules and what happens when you disobey.”

  I inched closer. “I-I haven’t…”

  He lifted his hand, palm up, beckoning me closer. Like a spider to a fly, his silent invitation enticed and excited me. For reasons I couldn’t comprehend, in Nox’s presence my will to argue waned as my desire to please grew. Slowly, I reached for his fingers and placed mine in his. As he encased my smaller hand, just like the first time, our connection formed a conduit, a portal for energy to flow from one to the other. Heat flooded my circulation, warming everything from my fingers to my toes. My gaze flew to his, and in that millisecond, I saw the navy I adored. No matter what he was trying to prove, our connection wasn’t gone.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed, and with a blink the navy disappeared.

  “Closer, Miss Collins. I’m going to show you what happens when my commands are met by questions. This should remind you to end your rebellious ways.”

  My steps stuttered.

  “Over my knee.”

  Is he fucking kidding me?

  “What?”

  In one fell swoop, he tugged my hand, pulling me closer and capturing me over his lap.

  “No! Nox, I’m not doing this. I won’t.”

  He didn’t speak as I protested in vain. His erection prodded my stomach, as I went over his knee. Visions of Alton came raining through my mind. My mother’s headaches and the days she couldn’t make it out of bed. I wouldn’t live that way, not for a day and definitely not for a year. My limbs stiffened as I thrashed about.

 

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