I nestle into the crook of his shoulder and shift my legs onto the couch. The tranquil feeling we experienced on Halloween returns and we both let out an audible sigh as we continue to laugh at Will and his antics.
By the time Niko leaves for the evening, it’s after midnight and I am exhausted. His goal was to ensure that I stayed in for the evening and he certainly succeeded. I didn’t even feel the need to drink in order to numb the pain and loneliness. And with Morgan having plans with Miguel for the night, that was exactly what I was planning to do before he showed up.
When I enter my bedroom, I jump with fright at the sight of Dorian sitting on my bed. He’s dressed in a dark tailored suit though he has ditched the tie and unbuttoned the top few buttons. His hair is its usual dark, tousled and oh so sexy style. It’s hard to believe that his effortless beauty even exists.
“Dorian,” I gasp. “What are you doing here? And do you not know what a front door is? You’re gonna give me a freakin’ heart attack!”
The corner of his mouth curls into a smirk. “Sorry.”
I busy myself with pulling out a tank top and some boxer shorts before shimmying out of my jeans, wholly aware of Dorian’s heated gaze. “So why are you here?”
“I wanted to see you. And I felt it was best if one of us were here. There’s no way I was going to let Niko spend the night. And don’t think I don’t know how touchy the two of you are.”
I turn to assess his venomous expression. Is Dorian jealous? “So you’re here to stay over? Won’t your fiancé get worried and wonder where you are?” I gag at the thought.
“Gabriella, we don’t live together. She stays at her condo and I still have my suite. Nothing has changed.”
Now that’s news. “Oh. So you two aren’t…” I try to finish my thought but just can’t bring myself to do it.
“Hell no. I love you. Do you think I could go through with something like that?” Dorian almost looks offended at the insinuation.
“I don’t know. You are engaged. And you do plan to…procreate so you obviously have to sleep with her someday. Plus Niko told me that you all aren’t as strict with things like sex. Like it’s no big deal to the Dark.”
“Well, it’s a big deal to me,” he replies standing and striding over to me. He grasps my bare hips and pulls my body into his. “The last woman I made love to is currently half-naked and pressed against me. And when she looks up at me with those big hazel eyes and bites her bottom lip in anticipation, all I can think about is how bad I want to feel her again. How I would do anything to bury myself in her for hours and hours until she is too exhausted to move. Until she tells me that she’ll never leave me.”
The desperation in his voice causes an audible gasp to escape me, rendering me absolutely speechless. God, how I want those things; there is nothing that I could imagine wanting more. But I’ve led with my desires before. I’ve pushed aside sense and logic to sate my body’s craving. And look how far it got me. Now all I have is a broken heart, a killer (still) out to get me, the impending doom of my ascension, and a borderline drinking problem.
“I want you, Dorian,” pushing out of his grip and contradicting my words. “But until I know we can actually be together, I can’t go down that road with you. It will hurt too badly when we have to say goodbye again.”
Dorian sighs and hangs his head before nodding. “I know, little girl. And I would never ask you for that. Can I just stay with you? To ensure you are safe tonight? I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to. I can just sit and watch you sleep like I usually do.”
My face tenses into a frown. “Uh, that’s kinda creepy. Do you really come here and watch me sleep?” A shiver runs up my spine. What else does he watch me do? My stomach roils at the possibilities.
“Only when you call me.”
“Call you? What the hell? I don’t call you, Dorian.” I think back to my lowest points. Could I have drunk dialed Dorian?
Dorian smiles. “In your sleep you do. I don’t go around stalking you if that’s what you’re afraid of. But I can feel you calling out to me at night sometimes and I come to you. You’ll be thrashing around, tangled in the sheets. You dream about me.” He runs a hand through my hair and a frown dimples his forehead. “And sometimes when you’re asleep, you cry. It breaks my heart into pieces to see you so saddened knowing that I caused your anguish. I just want to kiss away every tear you’ve ever shed and make it better. You have no idea how bad I want that, Gabriella.”
“I cry in my sleep?” I ask with a wavering voice. I suddenly feel sorry for myself. How much has losing Dorian really hurt me? I have hardly let myself cry over the loss and to know that those tears were so desperate to get out that they made their escape while I was unconscious kind of depresses me.
“I’m sorry,” is all he says in response. He feels responsible and though he is partly to blame, I can’t put this all on him.
I finish slipping into my sleeping clothes under his lustful gaze and retreat to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Then I slip under the covers of the bed that has felt so cold and empty since Dorian left it.
“Well, are you getting in?” I ask him still standing in the middle of the room dressed in his suit.
“You want me to sleep with you?” he asks with a raised brow.
“Well, I damn sure don’t want you staring at me all night like some type of creeper while I drool,” I chuckle. He still looks confused. “Yes, Dorian! I want you to sleep with me. Sleep though. Not sleep-sleep with me.”
Dorian’s face lights up with a beaming smile as he makes his way over to the bed. He takes off his suit jacket and steps out of his shoes before pulling back the covers.
“You’re not getting in like that. Either lose the stuffy clothes or put on some pjs.”
“But you know I don’t have any. We never had a need for them when I was here.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively, causing me to giggle.
“Fine. Just take off your shirt and those pants. You do have on underwear, correct?”
“I’d be happy to lose those too,” he grins.
“Uh… No! No! Um, yeah, not such a good idea,” I stammer, unable to tear my eyes away from the pronounced bulge in his boxers as he lets his pants fall to the floor. “We should probably keep those. Yeah, uh, definitely…shit.”
Dorian chuckles at my flustered tirade and I cover my face to hide my embarrassing blush. After he is stripped down to his undies, he climbs into the bed next to me, instantly rekindling the warmth and security it once exuded. He pulls me into his arms and without a second thought, I lay my head on his warm chest. His hand begins to stroke my hair and the tension that had strained every muscle begins to unravel.
“Do you think this could work? Do you think one day we could actually be together?” I murmur against his skin. I reflexively take a whiff and revel in his scent. Ahhhh.
“Yes. We just need to be careful. And you need to trust me when I tell you certain things. Things that may be difficult for you to understand at first but necessary.”
I take a deep breath and muster up all my courage, putting the nagging voice in my head on mute. “Ok.”
“Ok?” Dorian lifts me slightly and pulls my chin up to meet his gaze.
“Ok. I’ll try. If you say that this is all a ploy and things will work out for the better, than I’ll try to wait.”
Dorian crushes my body to his, wrapping his arms tightly around me. “Thank you, Gabriella,” he breathes, his voice cracking with emotion. “You have no idea how happy you have just made me.”
“I can tell,” I squeak under his bicep that’s about the size of my head. “Can’t…breathe…”
“Oops,” he mutters, loosening his hold but refusing to pull his arms away. “I know this doesn’t mean that we are together. But just the possibility that one day we will be is enough for me. I’ve waited so long for you. I can’t lose you now. This will work. Just trust me, little girl. It will work.”
“I just hope you’re right,” I
reply, forcing a smile and trying to let Dorian’s radiant warmth and love blanket the doubts clouding my jumbled mind.
***
“So I wanted to talk to you about the job you’ve been doing here, Carmen,” I say, ushering her into the stuffy back office.
Carmen furrows her brow and horror washes over her. “Oh gosh, Gabs. What did I do? I know I was late last week, but I seriously had major cramps!”
I chuckle heartily and wave her off. “Relax, Carmen! You’ve been doing great here! Better than great. I just want to see how you would feel about taking on some extra responsibility.”
She sighs her relief before leaning against the closed door. “Ay dios mio! You had me worried! You’ve been so up and down lately; I didn’t know what to think!”
“No, it’s nothing to be worried about. But I do need some help. Now that I am technically the owner,” I say with air quotes, “I need to start delegating some responsibility around here. And there is no one I could think of to fill those shoes but you.”
Though acquiring Cashmere totally threw me for a loop, I decided to keep it rather than selling or letting it crumble to the ground. It had become home for more than just me and I knew that everyone here was dedicated to their job. Plus, there’s no way I could put seven devoted employees out of a job just because I got dumped. Since then, I have been trying to make Cashmere my own and even toyed with changing the name.
Ever since I told Dorian I would try to wait for him almost two weeks ago, he’s been helping me understand the ins and outs of the business. The bank account he kept for bills and expenses was still intact plus a few added zeros that Dorian insisted on. It was actually his idea that I delegate some of the responsibility.
“So what do you think, Carmen?” I ask with a raised brow and a smile. “Think you’d like to be my store manager?”
Carmen’s eyes bug out of her head and her jaw drops. “Are you shitting me, Gabs?” she shrieks before clamping her hand over her mouth and muttering apologies.
I laugh heartily at her outburst. “Yes. I need some help around here and no one knows Cashmere or fashion like you. It pays well, and you will have the opportunity to put your stamp on this place and interact with some designers. How does that sound?”
“How does that sound?” she squeaks with wide eyes.
Before I can ask another question, Carmen wraps her tiny arms around me and is jumping up and down, squealing with glee. After she’s accepted my offer and has calmed her jubilation, she gives me another warm hug before stepping back onto the sales floor with a giant grin. I smile to myself, genuinely happy that I could do something for her that will potentially advance her career. She deserves it; through all my bullshit over the last couple months, she has been a stellar employee and friend. I owe her this opportunity. Besides, after my ascension, there is a good chance I will have to fully leave the store in her qualified hands.
Right on cue, my cell phone dings to life and I am greeted with a text message from Dorian, causing my smile to broaden to mega-watt status.
From Dorian, 5:46 P.M.
-Dinner at my place tonight? Thought we could try something different.
My mind drifts to the painful memory of the last time I stepped foot in Dorian’s suite. It was undeniably the worst day of my life, as I felt my heart being snatched from my chest and ripped into a thousand shreds when Dorian admitted that he would have to marry Aurora in order to protect me. Returning to the scene of the crime just seems unbearable. Yet, I know I have to eventually. If I am going to try to trust him again, if we are going to try to make this work somehow, I have to take baby steps.
I knew my decision to try to work things out with Dorian could somehow bite me in the ass. And I knew that after everything, it would make more sense for us to be apart. But when it came down to it, I just couldn’t. Being with him, with all the supernatural politics and bullshit, is hard. Trying to see past his betrayal and deceit…hell, that’s even harder. But living without him, not feeling his love and warmth blanket me every day? That is intolerable.
I accepted Solara’s words that day in the coffee shop mirage. My sole destiny was not to be Dorian’s lover. But something deep within me, something that penetrated straight to my bones halted my every advance to try to forget him. As if he was placed in my life for a purpose. Not to be my assassin. Not to persuade my choice of alignment. But something else that compelled me to stay anchored to him in an intangible way. Maybe Dorian isn’t my destiny. Maybe I am his.
To Dorian, 5:58 P.M.
-Sure you can handle that? I wouldn’t want to tease you ;)
I smile to myself, knowing exactly what his endgame is. Though I had agreed to try, I felt it was best if we kept sex out of the equation, which was a painful feat for us both. We had dived in so quickly with it before, sometimes I’d feel like that’s all we had. Like intimacy was our love language.
So we slowed things down and started doing things like normal couples do. We’d watch movies cuddled up on the couch, order takeout, and even play cards or board games. And at night, when he climbed into bed with me and slid his body next to mine, Dorian never crossed the line into sexual territory. And even though he could split bricks with what he was packing under his boxer briefs, he still tried to appease me and fit that normal ‘boyfriend’ mold. He tried to be human for me.
-For you, I can handle anything. Just having you here in my space and in my bed again is enough. I miss you so much. And I love you even more.
My smile multiplies into an ear-splitting beam at his words. He loves me. That’s all I could really ask for, and every fiber of my being believes him completely. Suddenly the urge to be with him in every tangible way overwhelms me and I happily tap out a reply.
-I love you too. And I’ll be there. I can’t wait to be back where I belong.
I go back to finishing up the paperwork and bills sprawled out in front of me on my desk, eager to get out of here and rush to Dorian’s waiting arms. I make a mental note to stop by my apartment to slip into something sexy, scrapping all thoughts of taking it slow. When death seems to be knocking at my door every five minute, why wait?
Just as I am packing up my things to go, my cell dings, indicating a text. I giddily pick it up, expecting another love-laced message from Dorian. However it’s from a number I don’t recognize, and contains no words, just a media attachment. I shrug and open it up, realizing it’s some sort of video. What the hell? Who would send me this?
The first thing I notice is a bedroom I’ve never seen before. It’s all deep purples and elegant décor, along with a massive canopy bed fit for a princess. The click-clack of high heels becomes louder as someone approaches the recording device. Shuffling ensues before a familiar face comes into focus. Aurora. She positions the camera then smiles menacingly into the lens, as if she is smiling right at me. Straight through me. My blood freezes in my veins.
Aurora turns away from the camera and makes her way to the entryway of the door. I hear her talking to someone, her high-pitched sing-song voice assaulting my eardrums. Then another set of footprints joins the clang of her expensive heels. And as he comes into focus in the frame, every inch of him looking downright edible in blue jeans and a dark V-neck sweater, the icy feeling in my veins begins to sizzle and burn in the most uncanny way, immobilizing me where I stand. Dorian. The love of my pathetic life, the object of every desire, my very own walking, talking fantasy is being led to the canopy bed by my arch-fucking-nemesis and his current fiancé.
What. The. Fuck?
Dorian settles onto the bed with a huff, clearly uncomfortable in the intimate space. Aurora nestles between his legs, placing her hands on his shoulders. He mumbles something but it is too low for me to make out. Aurora chuckles then begins to knead his shoulders. Dorian visibly tenses at the contact but then slumps into relaxation. Her hands shift from gentle kneads to a deep squeeze of his solid muscles and I am all too aware of the handfuls of fabric in her hands, pulling his sweater upwards. In
what seems like hours yet happens faster than I can look away, Aurora pulls Dorian’s top right over his head, revealing his tight, rippling torso.
My breath catches in my throat as my mind tries to absorb what I’m seeing. Aurora’s hands fly to her own shirt where she works to undo each button, Dorian watching impassively, making no move to stop her actions. When she stands before him in her tight skirt, heels and lace black bra, she takes a step closer into him, aligning her breasts with his mouth. Then she grasps his chin to meet her line of vision, causing him to release a contented sigh.
I know what this is; I’ve been here before. Dorian is going to breathe Aurora. And though I’ve been a live spectator of the act before, the fact that I’m not there to stop it, not there to be a reminder of all the reasons why Dorian shouldn’t go through with it, my heart clenches in my chest.
The shift in the air, the visible shimmer around them indicates the beginning of the ritual. Aurora’s manicured hands clutch Dorian’s bare shoulders as she submits to him. They both pant wildly, the faint sounds of ecstasy ringing through the receiver of my phone. I am only too aware of the hot tears trying to make their way over the threshold of my eye rims. I quickly blink them away and grit my teeth, knowing that any minute now Dorian will come to his senses and push Aurora away. He has to. He loves me. Right?
The next few seconds are beyond brutal as I watch Aurora push Dorian back onto the bed and straddle him, revealing her scanty thong. As she lowers her body on top of his, never breaking eye contact, the tears regenerate, and slide down my face. I swipe them away, refusing to show weakness, even in the isolation of my office.
With eagerness, Dorian buries his face in Aurora’s cleavage and grips her bare backside, just as he did months before when I witnessed their exchange for myself. Then he is successfully ripping her bra off, the delicate fabric almost disintegrating in his enthusiastic hands. And as her pert mounds fall around his face, the puckered skin if her nipples grazing his perfect lips, the screen goes black. The torture ceases and the video ends. And I’m left alone in dejected silence, unable to fully accept what just went down. But I know what happened next. I know what I just saw. And even my affinity for denial can’t blanket that truth.
The Dark Prince (The Dark Light Series) Page 30