by M. S. Parker
“Please.” I rolled my eyes. “Two of those in the other pile recently left Eddie to work for Devoted. The other one changes careers more often than I change my purse.”
Dominic lips curled in a smile. “You’ve changed your purse three times in the last five weeks, Aleena. This guy’s been at Devoted for eighteen months.”
“Before I started working for you, I used the same purse for five years.” I gave him a superior look. “I never had to worry about having a different one for different occasions or outfits.”
“Point made.” Then he tossed the pages he held down onto the couch next to him. “Yes, I’m contacting Miriam…and the rest.” He nodded to the carelessly thrown sheets of paper I’d spent the afternoon compiling into neat piles. “I’ve met Miri. I liked her. She doesn’t pull punches and if she agrees to come in, it will be because she wants to hear what I have to say. And she won’t sell me out.”
He shrugged and I knew that was that.
“Sounds fair.” Nodding, I went to stand.
“You did well,” he murmured, looking away again.
“Thank you.” I told myself I’d go up to my room, make myself something to eat, collapse into the tub. Relax. I walked four steps and then spun back to look at him. “Hey, why don’t we go out?”
Dominic slowly looked up and stared at me. “Out?”
“Yeah.” I managed a weak, wobbling smile. “Out. You know…for a drink. Dinner. We’ve never done that.”
His gaze seemed to hold me hostage and I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move.
Then, slowly, he shifted his attention back down to the work he had in front of him. “We can order in, Aleena. I wouldn’t mind a drink, though. Do you like scotch?”
I didn’t answer. Numbly, I turned away and moved into the kitchen.
I splashed some of the brand I knew he liked into a glass and carried it to him. I placed it in front of him and then called in an order to the French restaurant I knew he liked. I was thinking ice cream would be better than alcohol for how I was feeling right now.
I was nearing the top of the stairs when he called my name, but I ignored him.
Why in the hell hasn’t he taken you out?
***
He came to me later that night. I’d heard him knocking on the door to my suite but didn’t answer. I hadn’t locked it though so he came in anyway.
I was on my side, facing away from the door.
When he moved to stand between me and the window, I was tempted to feign sleep, but I didn’t have the energy.
Instead, when he crouched down in front of me, I just looked at him. I was so tired of all this.
He reached up and touched my mouth.
I turned my face away.
“What’s wrong?” Dominic asked softly.
Never let it be said that Dominic Snow can’t tell when a woman isn’t up for sex.
“I’m not feeling well,” I said honestly. Not that I was about to tell him that I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest and then danced on. No. Not danced on. Smashed. Ground into the cool Italian marble by the heel of his Italian leather shoes while he calmly focused on the data of his upcoming business acquisition.
Rolling onto my belly, I pressed my face into the pillow and waited for the sound of the door to close.
Instead, the mattress made a soft sighing sound as he sat down next to me. I thought he could take a hint. If I wasn’t up for sex, what was the point in him hanging around? He’d made it clear that’s what our relationship was. His cheap little secret.
He ran his hand over my hair and I tensed.
“Relax,” he murmured.
I tensed even more.
He laid his hands on my shoulders and I gasped at the contact of his skin against mine. I was wearing a tank top, and a thin one at that. It had been days. Just a few really, but days. Too many of them. Yet the thought of being with him right now only made the misery inside me deepen.
My body didn’t seem to get the message though. My nipples tightened and I tried to ignore the tug down low between my thighs. Dammit! I still wanted him.
Talented, skilled fingers dug into the muscles along my neck and shoulders.
“Relax,” he said again.
I couldn’t possibly…
A startled moan escaped me.
He pressed his thumbs into the muscles at the base of my neck and I shuddered. He began to work the knots with surprising skill and a few minutes later, a warm, blissful lassitude spread through me.
Before he stood, I was asleep.
***
“Mr. Snow will see you now.” I smiled at the brunette who waited in the rose-colored, scoop styled chair.
We’d come to Philadelphia three days ago and I was exhausted. I hadn’t exactly lied last week when I told Dominic I wasn’t feeling well. I was heartsick, or at least close to it, and that didn’t manifest in happy, cheerful ways, right?
The massage he’d given me had resulted in one blissful night of sleep. The last I’d had, actually. The next morning, we’d hit the ground running and it hadn’t stopped since.
The phone calls had started that morning, followed by more calls, hours spent pouring over work histories and digging into backgrounds and unearthing everything I possibly could on the shortlist of the people Dominic needed to talk to at Devoted. On a few, I did end up using one of the investigators he’d recommended, but I did most of it myself.
This was the first time I’d be around when he instituted a takeover and I wanted to make sure everything was perfect. I couldn’t let him lose it because of me.
Amber was excited.
I was too stressed to feel anything but that.
Two nights ago, I’d practically staggered into the suite of rooms Amber had reserved for me, but before I’d been able to close the door, Dominic had slid inside behind me.
“I thought we could have a drink, maybe dinner,” he’d murmured, smoothing a hand down my arm, then curling it around my waist.
I might have been able to work up the interest, especially after he’d pressed his lips to my neck, but then he’d said the words room service and it was like he’d rubbed salt into an open wound.
More and more, it was starting to seem like he just didn’t want to be seen in public with me. Like I was exactly what I’d always feared I’d be: the dark-skinned mistress, the exotic indulgence.
It had been easy to plead exhaustion and when he’d looked at me, I’d seen a flicker of something in his eyes, speculation, maybe something else, but there was also genuine concern. “You should rest, but make sure you eat, Aleena.”
I’d told him I would. Then I went straight to bed. I couldn’t have eaten anything if I tried. Not just because I’d been exhausted, but because I hadn’t thought my stomach could handle it.
The past three days had been the worst, though, a blur of interviews, meetings, interviews, more meetings and hurried meals. Those meetings, meals and interviews were all taking place at the very plush accommodations offered by Masque Philadelphia, the chain of luxury hotels that Dominic owned. It had been, I’d learned, his first real business enterprise, and still his most profitable.
I had to admit, having exquisite accommodations at just about any premiere destination available at your beck and call sure as hell made life easier. As I led Miriam Beckman across the steel gray carpet, I asked her about her drive in, whether she was enjoying the spring weather. Typical, polite small talk.
Instead of answering, she gave me a direct look. “Just how many of us is Mr. Snow seeing, Ms. Davison?”
I paused in the middle of reaching for the door that led to the offices Dominic was using.
I knew I couldn’t really answer that although I knew the answer. Amber and I had helped dig up and locate the information, then we’d set up the appointments with the people Dominic had decided would be ideal. But I wasn’t going to pass anything on. So I just smiled. “He’s speaking to people who caught his interest, Ms. Beckman.”
&
nbsp; “Hmmm…” She nodded and then fell silent as I opened the door.
Dominic was sitting behind the desk, but rose at our arrival. He barely glanced at me, offering just a polite nod, all of his interest focused on the very sharp Miriam Beckman.
I went to shut the door, but just as I started to tug on it, Dominic’s gaze came to me. “Ms. Davison, I need my noon hour blocked out, absolutely no disturbances. See to it, will you?”
“Of course.” Once I’d pulled the door closed, I put in a call to Amber and relayed the message. She’d stayed back in New York, working on last minute details for the upcoming dinner and fine tuning things with Eddie’s assistant, Clarice. Most of the details appeared to be coming from Clarice at least. Couldn’t have anybody thinking Trouver L’Amour was footing the bill, right?
Amber was also doing the initial interviews for the person who’d take over for her at the company. She’d made noises that they needed to get somebody as top dog, too. Dominic’s going to be bored here soon. I’ve got to get my replacement in and ready before that happens.
Dominic and boredom didn’t mix well, I suspected. And he definitely seemed the type to get bored easily.
Longing twisted inside me and I looked down the hall toward the door that separated me from him. There was more than the expanse of carpet, more than a solid door of polished oak.
Why in the hell hasn’t he taken you out?
The hollow ache in my chest had become so familiar at this point, I’d almost expect to be used to it. But I wasn’t. I rubbed the heel of my hand over it as I slid into my chair. My phone rang and I answered it without looking at the display, something I really knew better than to do.
The slow, southern drawl added to the headache pounding at the base of my skull as I recognized the voice right off. I liked her, but I wasn’t in the mood for cheer right now. “Annette, I hope you’re feeling better.”
“I am, thank you! A dose of steroids will do wonders for you,” she said and I could hear the smile in her voice.
She definitely sounded better. I wondered if steroids would help a broken heart.
Broken hearts…dammit. Dammit. Damn it all to hell. I’m in love with him.
“Aleena, are you there?” She sounded concerned.
“I…” I struggled to clear my throat but couldn’t. “I can’t…”
Humiliation choked me and I hung up the phone, leaving it on my desk as I rushed into the small restroom tucked off to the side of the office. Pressing my back to the door, I clamped a hand over my mouth to muffle the sob.
I’m in love with him.
Rocking myself back and forth, I started to sob. It had hit me with all the force of a physical blow and I couldn’t breathe.
No, no, no, no…
There was a knock at the door.
I froze.
“Aleena?”
It wasn’t Dominic.
Clearing my throat, I said, “Ah…one moment.” It didn’t sound great, but it also didn’t sound like I’d just been freaking out, so that was good.
I moved to the sink and turned on the water. It wasn’t until I straightened that I saw her reflection in the mirror. It was Annette Shale. With water dripping off my face, I gaped at her.
“Hi.” She managed a strained smile. “I…well, damn, girl. I was in the area for an auction, picking up a few pieces for a client, and I heard you and Dominic were down here.”
She sighed and moved forward, tugging a soft towel from a rod just a foot away. While I continued to stare at her, she shoved it under the water and then twisted the excess out before moving to stand in front of me. “If Dr. Annette can offer some advice?” she said softly. “What you need is ice cream and a good, long talk with a girlfriend.”
“Um…” Great. I’d hoped it wasn’t that obvious.
She held out the towel. “Since it’s the middle of the day and I know what a pain in the ass Dominic can be to work for, you’ll have to settle for this and a few ibuprofen. Take this. I’ll grab the ibuprofen and meet you at your desk in a moment.”
A moment was probably all I had, so I made the most of it, pressing the towel to my face and letting it cool my heated flesh. Whether it would do much for my puffy eyes, I had no idea.
Slipping out of the restroom a few minutes later, I found Annette seated in the chair Miriam had occupied. When she saw me, she rose and held out a white bottle.
I smiled weakly.
“Please tell me it’s not Dominic,” she said, her voice soft.
My gaze flew to hers. “You…he…”
“No.” Her eyes widened and she laughed. “Oh, honey, no! That boy is almost ten years younger than I am. Plus, I’m...well...let’s just say that my marriage wasn’t one based on sex.” She waved a hand, making it clear that wasn’t part of the discussion. “You’ve been living with him a while and you don’t strike me as a fool.”
I went red.
Annette smiled and I saw the knowledge in her eyes. It wasn’t snide or condescending. She just knew. “Dominic is a beautiful man, Aleena.” She paused and then added with a partial smile, “I’m asexual, not blind.”
I fiddled with the lid on the painkillers, unsure of what to say.
Annette reached out and took the bottle, twisting it open and spilling two into her palm. When she held them out, I accepted and moved to the water I’d poured myself earlier.
“If you two aren’t…” I stopped, unsure how to proceed.
There was a strained, almost painful silence. I looked up when I heard her moving, her heels muffled by the plush carpet. Her red hair was pulled back in an elegant chignon, a scarf draped carelessly around her neck. She wore a silk jacket of bright purple over a white t-shirt and jeans. She looked beautiful and sexy and casual and confident. Everything I wasn’t.
And her eyes were kind.
She held out a hand.
Slowly, I accepted.
“We aren’t, and never were,” she said, squeezing my fingers. “Trust me. But Dominic…that man and commitment? They don’t exist. Now, he’s a good man. He really is, but…” A door opened and she lapsed into silence for a moment before she sighed and spoke again, “Look, I was calling to see if you wanted to join me for lunch. We could go over some things for the penthouse and I had a few ideas for the main house, too. But fuck that. We can…”
“Annette, hello.”
We both looked up to see Dominic standing in the doorway to his office, Miriam Beckman at his side.
Dominic glanced at me then back to Annette. But his gaze came right back to me, eyes narrowing slightly. He opened his mouth to say something, but then stopped himself, shaking his head.
Instead, he looked at Miriam. “Miri, it was a pleasure. I hope to hear from you soon.”
“You will.” She nodded at him, and the smile on her face told me that Dominic had won.
He usually did.
She smiled at me, but the smile faltered. “Are you well, Ms. Davison?”
“I’m fine. My…ah…contact slipped.” I lied. I didn’t wear them.
She rolled her eyes and grimaced in sympathy. “Get the surgery. I had it ten years ago. Best decision of my life.” She held out a hand and we shook. “I’ll be seeing you shortly.”
Then she left the three of us alone.
“I take it the meeting went well,” I said, moving to my desk without looking at Dominic.
“It did. Annette, how are you?” Dominic asked. The question was more rote than anything else. He was staring at me the entire time. I could feel it, but I didn’t look up.
“Much better, thank you. I’m sorry to hold things up for you. I heard you two were in town and I came to kidnap Aleena for lunch, try to get caught up. Is that okay?”
I bent to get my purse from the cabinet. “Sounds grea—”
“No. Aleena and I already have lunch plans.”
Chapter 7
Dominic
Aleena stared listlessly at her desk as I walked Annette to the door.
&
nbsp; When I turned back to study her, she didn’t look up. She just sat there moving things around her desk, checking her phone, tapping at it, then putting it down. Then she started the cycle all over again. Moving the leather-bound agenda she carried everywhere. A file folder—it went back to the position it had been in sixty seconds ago.
“Enough!” I snapped when she picked up her phone the third time.
She flinched.
Then, slowly, she lowered the phone and lifted her head, staring at me for the first time since I’d come out of my office.
Her soft, pretty green eyes were dull, red-rimmed and puffy. Had she been crying?
“Aleena, what—”
The knock on the door came at the worst time and I might have just taken the head off the bastard behind it. Fortunately, I remembered at the last moment that I’d ordered lunch for us. I’d wanted to make sure she ate. I didn’t think she’d been eating. She looked thinner. But I also wanted to spend some time with her. I wanted to just…
I missed her.
It hit me hard in the gut.
I missed her.
Not sex. Or, not only sex. I missed her.
I stood to the side as two men pushed in carts laden with trays. They were followed by several more men, carrying a tablecloth, a silver bucket filled with ice, bottles of wine. Everything I needed to make a perfect, romantic meal.
Aleena had risen and moved to stand by the bank of windows and she watched in silence as they set up the elegant meal I’d ordered while I waited for my interview with Miri.
Once they were gone, she glanced at me. Her eyes were no longer dull. They were frozen.
Just as cold as her words. “Of course, we’re having lunch in. I’d planned on going out, but…well. Fuck that idea.”
She moved to the table and before I could make myself move, she pulled out a chair and sat down.
Something’s not right. That thought danced through my mind. No shit. She never swore at work. If nothing else, that was a clear indication that she was upset.
Aleena gave me a sharp-edged smile. “Let’s eat, Mr. Snow.”