“Everything okay?” Dahlia spoke from the table.
“Huh?” He made himself sound relaxed. No need to get her worked up. “Oh yes, fine. So, we’re on then? You’ll come home. I mean to the house.”
“Sure.” She stood. “Thanks for letting me and for suggesting I stay here. I think it would be great to see you too. On a regular basis.”
****
Cristian sat across from the security experts he’d hired. Life could be easier when you knew all the right people. Using company time to manage his problems wasn’t exactly the best thing to do, however, he couldn’t let the issues wait any longer.
“I want these punks caught. I don’t trust the police not to bumble the operation. And I want Dahlia protected at all times.”
Derek Seige, former Navy Seal and president of the security force, nodded. “I agree on all fronts. I’d point out they targeted you, not Dahlia. The note didn’t come to her. Presumably they don’t know she’s moving in with you.”
“I’m not concerned with my own self. Let them try to come at me.” Once a week at the shooting range kept him sharp. Even with the cane he never missed.
“I’ll put someone on Dahlia right away. If we’re doing an operation, buddy, we’re watching you too. I’m not kidding. I don’t lose clients. You go against my recommendation I’m not taking the case at all.”
Cristian sighed. The best security expert in Houston happened to be his friend, and calling him out on their relationship only made the situation harder to tell him no. He wanted Dahlia safe.
“They need to stay back, low profile. I’m not interested in getting into too many details with my bosses. We’re merging. I don’t want them to see me as a risk. If I lose my job because some coward is threatening me from prison, I’m going to be really pissed.” Partners could be fussy. He couldn’t quit yet. Soon…
Derek nodded. “Fine.”
“She can’t know either. Keep with her. I don’t want her scared.”
Dahlia couldn’t find out Duke still meddled in their lives. She had new things starting for her. The past wasn’t screwing with her anymore. Not when they had their lives heading back on track.
****
He hadn’t seen Dahlia in two full weeks. She’d called him every night she’d been in Chicago, working. Truth was, he couldn’t remember the last time they’d talked the way they did. Why had he taken her for granted before?
Cristian couldn’t do anything about their past anymore. He could only make the future better from then on.
“So I said to the man, I know you’re not giving me your best offer and I’m not settling for less than your best.”
He loved how enthusiastic she sounded. “Good for you. Don’t let them take advantage of Aaron’s generous budget.”
Her low laugh was so damn sexy. “I won’t.” She paused. “How are things with you?”
He’d gotten another letter. Before he’d turned the junk over to the police—the second round made his security people insist on the authorities—he’d made a copy. Staring at the words, another die asshole, you will burn bullshit, made him roll his eyes. They couldn’t be more creative?
“Everything is fine.”
“Um.” She cleared her throat. “Why are you lying?”
“What?” He sat straighter in bed.
“I hear it in your voice. You’re lying. It’s the same as the time you lied to your mother about the rock concert we went to. The same hitch at the end of your words. Are you lying to me? What’s wrong? Something gone askew with the not-using-the-cane thing?”
He closed his eyes. “I didn’t realize I had a tell.”
“Deflection. Well done.”
“Tell you what. We’ll talk when you get home. Not really an over the phone conversation.” He was never going to manage sparing her. “Safe flight tomorrow.”
“Will do, although that’s more about the pilots than me. Can I tell you something weird?”
“Please.” Anything to change the subject. “Hit me. Weirder the better.”
“I think I’m being followed. I mean, maybe. I keep thinking I see a guy and then I turn around and he’s gone…so I think I might be completely losing my mind.”
Cristian nodded, although thousands of miles away he knew she’d never see. Damn it. “You’re not crazy. I bumbled things again.”
“What?” Her voice perked a notch. “Explain.”
“You have a security team on you. Don’t panic, okay? There’s no threat against you. I’m being cautious. I’ll tell you everything when you get here.”
Silence met his statement. “You bet you’re telling me. Is the person following me dangerous?”
“No. Hell. Do you think I’d send someone after you who wasn’t safe? He’s a security person. Evidently not very good at hiding himself.”
“We are having a serious conversation when I get back.”
“Absolutely.”
He wasn’t surprised when she hung up on him. Cristian groaned and laid back. His best intention blew to hell in his face. He was shooting off an email in the morning, asking them to redefine the words hidden since clearly they couldn’t pull the process off.
His phone dinged and he looked at the screen, expecting a pissed off text from Dahlia. Instead, he found himself immediately blinking away tears. What the hell? He never cried.
Look whatever your reasons, I know you love me. Thanks for trying to take care of me. We are still talking.
She knew he loved her. Dahlia hadn’t said she loved him. Their talk was a start. She didn’t freak out, she recognized he tried to help her. Maybe there would be a real chance after because she was damn right. He did love her.
Cristian had never ever stopped.
****
Dahlia trotted through the front door a lot more energetic than she should have felt after her flight, which had been bumpy and delayed two hours. Flying was always so draining. It was nice to be home—and the house really did feel as though she returned home, finally. Cristian was supposed to be home too, at least for a few days. Then they’d both be out of town again for a week. Two ships in the night for the time being.
She had to admit she loved what she was doing.
And she adored how he seemed to really listen to her.
She turned her key in the door and pushed the door open before she called out. “Hiya.”
“Hi.” Cristian’s voice from the kitchen called out. “In here.”
Leaving her rolling suitcase by the front doors, she walked to the other side of the house. The trauma of her first visit seemed long passed. She liked how the place smelled, how her whole body lightened when she walked through the door. If she still had any stuff, she’d decorate the walls. Sometime soon she’d have to take care of making the place less blah again.
A waft of something delicious caught her nose. Was Cristian cooking? Did he prepare meals? “What smells yummy?”
“I hope the house does.” He looked at the oven. “Half an hour and we’ll have ziti a la Cristian. I remembered you used to order pasta all the time. Oh, and garlic bread. And Caesar salad.”
Her stomach growled. “Wow. Usually too carby for me these days. One minute in the mouth, ten months on my hips. You cooked so I’ll for sure eat.”
Cristian groaned, and she took her gaze off the ziti to regard him. “What’s the noise for?”
“You. Are you seriously talking about there being something wrong with your hips? You are gorgeous. You don’t need to lose a pound, and if you want to eat pasta, eat.”
She stepped toward. “Sweet to say.”
“Listen, about the guy following you. I was really trying not to worry you. You’ve been through a lot—”
She put her hand on his arm to stop him. Cristian was sweet. They weren’t going to survive through round two of their relationship with dishonesty. “I’m a grown woman, bucko. I don’t need to be managed as a child. I know I don’t have a great track record here, but we’re starting over. This is Dahli
a-2.0 the grown up. Hit me with your stuff. If I think you overreacted, we’re cancelling the guy following me around.”
Dahlia had a hard time imagining what scenario would cause him to think he needed to hire her security. Cristian had never been particularly paranoid. Then again maybe he’d developed some kind of issues she didn’t know anything about.
She took a deep breath and tried to steal herself for whatever he would say. Needing security couldn’t be good news.
“Here.” He opened a drawer and pulled out three pieces of paper. Cristian placed the sheets on the counter in front of her. “I’ve gotten one a week. These are copies. At first, I thought to handle the issue privately, only not bringing in the cops got dumb. I’ve gotten the police involved.”
She looked at the words. At first, they didn’t make sense, as if her brain didn’t want to read them. The longer she stared the clearer the threats became. The letters were awful, addressed to Cristian, and spoke of burning him in a fire.
Her hands shook and spots clouded her vision. “Cristian, these letters don’t suggest I need security. They certainly damn well speak to you needing some. Duke’s threatening you.”
“Dahlia.” He shook his head. Her ex-husband who she seemed strangely to be dating, although it had become the easiest thing in the world couldn’t possibly be as blasé as he played. People didn’t receive death threats and let them roll off as if they were nothing.
She pointed her finger at him. “Don’t you Dahlia me. Why are you sticking people on me when you’re being targeted by the second worst mistake I ever made?”
“Sweetheart, I have protection. I’m also being followed. I tried to shield you from the pain of knowing. You’re right. You’re an adult. I should have told you.”
She waved her hand in the air. “We’ve covered what you did was wrong. And if you tell me you have coverage, than I feel better. Still? Hell, Duke is threatening to burn you.”
“I’ll be fine. Duke isn’t writing the letters, by the way. The police have looked into his correspondence. Absolutely not coming from him.”
Her whole body vibrated. “It not being Duke is worse.” She shouted the last word and then forced herself to calm. “If it’s not Duke, then it’s so much worse. We don’t know who all of his associates were. We have no idea.”
“Well, the police are looking into things and so are my private security. Although they’ve proven themselves to be somewhat inept in the disguising themselves area.”
She slammed her hand on the table. “You’re not worried? You’re standing there and acting as though we’re talking about whether or not we should adopt a cat?”
“I think you’re worrying enough for the both of us. And I did worry. I went and got security.” He shrugged and the action made her want to whack him. “Let’s eat and drink some wine.”
Her body was on fire. Nothing could happen to Cristian. He’d been through more than enough with the car accident. Damn, he couldn’t be hurt. Duke’s friend would not be allowed to harm him. She’d drive right to the prison and…oh…fuck it…
She jumped him. He showed surprise on his face before she kissed him. It had been five long years since she’d kissed him and longer since she’d been so turned-on. He groaned, leaning her against the counter.
“Bad leg, can’t hold you as I’d want.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” What had she been thinking?
“Don’t be.”
“I know you wanted this to go slowly, wanted to see things between us. Have you? Are we there yet?” Because as much as she wanted him, she’d respect his wishes.
“That text you sent me? Where you said you understood? I knew it then. We were in a better place. That never would have happened in the past.” He smiled down at her and there was so much love in his eyes she shivered from the heat of it.
“Cristian?” She wanted him, but he’d set the rules. Dahlia intended to follow them, to prove to him she could.
He kissed her. His mouth was hard, and knowing the heat that would follow, she melted against him. Claiming, that was the only word that could describe how she felt to be kissing her Cristian. His tongue plunged between her lips, dancing with hers. His hands gripped the back of her shirt, bunching the fabric as he held her tight. The slight nip of the air where her skin was exposed from the way he held her made the whole thing more intense.
Cristian tasted as she remembered him, and the rightness of his explosion on her senses brought tears to her eyes. Mint toothpaste and cinnamon mouthwash. Was it possible she was still addicted to both flavors?
She fisted his shirt, undoing some of his buttons so she could run her hand underneath, feeling the hair on his chest.
“I want you so much, Cristian.” She undid the rest of the shirt until she pulled the garment off him. He stared at her, his cheeks flushed. Dahlia grinned. He was as turned-on by kissing her as she was.
“Listen to me.” He took both her cheeks in his hands. “If we have sex, you’re agreeing to be mine. Do you understand? Entirely mine. I can’t have you and lose you. To feel your loss again will kill me.”
“Cristian.” She inhaled the sandalwood smell of his cologne. There was something so nice, so real, so…perfect how certain factors of Cristian had not changed. He’d become a powerful player at work, the kind of guy who knew private investigators and security teams, yet he still smelled the way he had the whole time he knew her.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?” He kissed her mouth and didn’t let go of her cheeks.
“Let me ask you something. Would I have moved in if I didn’t want the same? If I didn’t sincerely want us to work? If I wasn’t back for the long haul?”
“Damn.” When their lips met it felt charged with electricity. Their tongues in each other’s mouth, the small moan erupting from his throat, brought an urgency to her rapidly developing hunger.
He pulled at her shirt, throwing the garment over his shoulder when he’d gotten the piece off her. Cristian ran his index finger from her chin to the tops of her breasts. “I adore the gold bra.”
“Thanks. Wearing pretty stuff makes me feel sexy.”
He laughed, a low sound, which made her insides heat. “Dahlia, you would be sexy with a bag over your head.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
They stripped each other fast. A long time since she had sex. They’d barely touched each other, and she was hot as though he’d been going down on her for hours.
She’d guarded her heart for so long. How could she be with anyone except Cristian? Sex had always been so important to her, so precious, a gift she gave to Cristian and only him. Others would think her old-fashioned.
Dahlia reached between them and stroked his hard cock. He closed his eyes. “Dahlia, you have to know…”
“Sshh.” Whatever he wanted to say, she didn’t want to hear. Dahlia wasn’t stupid. There wasn’t a small chance in hell he’d not been with anyone else since she left. How many and who were not pieces of information she ever needed to acquire. Some things were better left in the past and particularly not shared as they were naked in the kitchen.
Once. Twice. Three times she ran had hand down the hard length of him, loving every grunt he made while she touched him. He reached between them and pushed two fingers inside of her. “You are so wet.”
“I’m excited.” She bit her lip to stop from crying out when he found her clit. No way was she letting herself come too quickly. Their encounter needed to last. Tonight should be epic.
“I am too.” Cristian sped his stroking until she had no choice, except to close her eyes. The pleasure his ministration provided warred with sheer pain. It had been such a long time since she’d come from anything other than her own fingers and her handy dandy BOB she had forgotten the intensity of having a man give her what she needed.
And not any man. The only guy she’d ever wanted to be intimate with.
“You know you want to come on my hands, pretty girl.” He drew back, letting his
other hand press against her pussy while he continued to press on her clit. Yes, he remembered. She loved the pressure of two hands, couldn’t get enough.
“More,” she pleaded.
“Whatever you want. Always.” She opened her lids and met his gaze. Heat…and so much more were present in his dark depths.
He took her breath away.
Dahlia leaned away, pressing her back closer to the counter so Cristian could find better depth, press into her farther. She wanted his cock, only she wanted to come from playing first.
“Right. Take it. My fingers first and then the rest of me. You want to come. I need to see you. Do it, Dahlia.”
Her breath caught in her throat as her body seemed to obey simply because he gave her the instruction. Around his fingers, her body exploded.
“Good girl.” He kissed her cheek. “Exactly what I wanted.”
She panted, her body spasming against the counter. She took a while to calm. When she did, she found his heated gaze bearing on her. “You look smug, Cristian. As if you know you got me off and you’re feeling very proud of yourself.”
“Shouldn’t I be?” His sideways grin warmed her as much as his getting her off had. “Hold on. I need something.” He extended his hand, and she joined their fingers, jumping from the counter. “Should we rechristen the rug?”
“Sounds a plan. Where are you going?”
He pointed to the drawer. “Condom.”
“Oh. Right.” Had been years since they’d needed protection. Yeah, she wasn’t going to go there anymore than she had a few moments earlier. Condoms were a good thing. She wasn’t on the pill. So they’d have had to anyway.
She strolled into the dining room, looking at the rug. Somehow to have sex again in there seemed perfect. They’d had such laughs about making love on the rug the last time. Better to resume their sexual relationship there than anywhere else in the house.
His arms came around her, pulling her against his chest. His hard erection pressed into her, and she smiled at the contact.
Mr. Wrong Page 8