Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“I needed you to keep working. You’re one of the men I trust most. I knew Balto could rely on you.”
That didn’t end his disappointment. “So, what happened?”
“I told you.” I grabbed a bag and carried it into the vault. “It’s a personal matter…” I tossed it onto the pile to be counted later before I turned back to him.
Steel didn’t like that answer, but he didn’t complain. “Fine.” He turned away and started working again, quietly hostile, loudly disappointed.
I grabbed him by the arm and forced him to look at me. “You remember that woman I told you about?”
He nodded.
“I had to do something for her…and it cost me.” I released my hand. “That’s all I’ll say about it.”
I walked through the dancers backstage and spotted my woman at her vanity, looking into her mirror as she pulled all the dark pins from her hair, slowly releasing those silky strands so they came free and cascaded down her back. Everything happened in real time, but for me, it was slow motion.
I came up behind her, the sunflowers held at my stomach.
When she saw me in the reflection, her eyes focused on the flowers I’d brought for her. She stared for a while before she lifted her gaze and looked into my face.
I was in a black jacket with a shirt underneath, ignoring the dress code they tried to force me to obey. I moved to the vase on the corner of her table and dropped them inside. There was also a bottle of water there, so I removed the cap and filled the vase, letting the stems soak up the moisture to last during the week.
With a slight smile, she stared at the vase before she raised her chin to look at me. “Never pictured you as the candy and flowers kinda guy…”
“It gets me laid, so I am now.” I sat on the bench beside her, my hand immediately moving to her thigh, the mirror positioned in front of us both. My body inched closer to hers until our foreheads touched. I stared at her lips, which were still painted with a bold red color.
Her hand went to the front of my shirt, and she grasped it as she lifted her mouth to kiss me. Then she whispered, her lips moving right against mine as she spoke. “I love you…”
I rubbed my nose against hers before I kissed her again. “And I you.”
Her fingers released my shirt so I could rise.
I got to my feet and stepped out of the way so she could finish removing her heavy makeup. That was when I saw him.
Damien.
He stood with Anna by his side, dressed in his finest for a night at the ballet.
Catalina must have seen him in the reflection, because she released a quiet gasp, like her heart jumped into her throat.
I was frozen to the spot, caught off guard for the first time in my life, because I hadn’t noticed him in the theatre. But then again, I wasn’t really looking because now I wasn’t living a lie anymore.
He stared at me for several heartbeats, all his rage and disappointment so obvious in his subtle reactions, the way his lips were slightly tight with an irritated scowl, the way his eyes were all about business and not pleasure.
Anna didn’t know what to do, so she looked in a different direction, her hand still in Damien’s. She was in a gown, her brown hair pinned back.
It must have been even more difficult for Damien to look at me when Anna was with him since I’d been the one to take her from the hospital.
Silence grew, and nothing happened.
I didn’t know what to do, whether to crack a joke or keep my mouth shut. But I didn’t want to make the situation worse.
Damien stepped forward, closer to his sister. As if he was being possessive of her, he placed his body between us, cutting me off from her. “Leave.” He dropped Anna’s hand and stared me down, like a lion defending his pride. He didn’t raise his voice, but his threat was unmistakable. He wouldn’t hunt me down and hurt me, but he would protect what he considered to be his.
Even though his sister was mine.
He waited for me to leave, didn’t blink once as he looked at me, furious.
I didn’t want to walk away. I didn’t want to cave. I had every right to be there, to bring her flowers and tell her I loved her. But the confrontation told me how soft my grasp on her wrist was, how she could never really be mine until her brother stopped looking at me like that. “I love her.” That was the only thing that came to mind, the only thing I could say that was still a rebuttal but not a hostile one. He must have seen the way I’d brought her flowers, the way I’d sat beside her and kissed her, the way she’d grabbed me and told me she loved me. How could he watch that and feel nothing at all? How could his hatred be so potent?