by Apryl Baker
When she put the Jeep into park, she closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. She could see the valet hurrying over, which meant she’d need to vacate her haven. He wouldn’t give her ten minutes to gather her courage.
Dimitri’s fingers slipped between hers, and she took several deep breaths. “Take as long as you need, sweetheart. He’ll wait.”
A smile tugged at her lips. He knew her too well. Even after only learning about her panic attacks this morning, he was already helping more than he could possibly know.
She did make him wait for five minutes while she sat there clutching Dimitri’s hands and trying to give herself the pep talk of the century. “Get out first and move him away from my door, please. I don’t want to be rude.”
“You have to let go of my hand if you want me to do that.” His laughter rolled over her, and she shuddered. He had to have felt it because his laughter died, but she refused to open her eyes. If he realized how much he affected her, she knew all bets would be off. Dimitri would try something. It was in his nature. It wouldn’t mean anything to him, but it would to her. She wasn’t about to let her heart get annihilated. Gathering her courage, she let his fingers slip from hers.
He sat there a full minute before she heard the door open and close. Another minute went by, and then her door opened. “You’re all good, sweetheart. Just turn off the car and give me your hand.”
Always so simple. Just give me your hand. Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel. Not only was she outside her apartment, but she was in a city she didn’t know. A big city where thousands of people roamed. This was a mistake. She knew it like she knew she had to drink at least three cups of coffee to function upon waking.
Dimitri leaned into the car, his lips grazing her ear as he spoke. “It’s okay, Becca. There are no crowds, just you, me, and Mike here.”
“But what about inside?” She hated the whispered fear she couldn’t choke down. Hated it more than anything.
“The lobby looks pretty empty, honey. It’s almost three in the morning.”
Becca let her eyelids flutter open, and she stared inside the glass doors. It did look pretty empty. All she had to do was get out of the car, make it inside long enough for Dimitri to check them in, and then an elevator ride up. The safety of a closed door was within reach.
“Take my hand, baby. It’ll be okay. I promise.”
His outstretched palm waited, and she laid her hand in it. He squeezed.
“Good girl.” He didn’t give her time to do anything. He unsnapped her seatbelt and pulled her out. She landed against his chest with a thump. He caught her and let her slide slowly down his body. All the air left her lungs and she gazed up at him. His blue eyes were dark, intense, moody.
“Mike, can you bring our things inside, please?” His eyes never left hers.
“Of course, Mr. Kincaid.”
When Becca was finally able to break the intense stare, she looked over at Mike. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, Mrs. Kincaid.”
“No, not Mrs. Kincaid.” She laughed, but couldn’t hide the way it had made her feel when he’d called her that. “I’m just here to keep this one out of trouble.”
That made the valet chuckle. “Good luck with that.”
Truer words had never been spoken.
“Let’s get checked in.” Dimitri’s voice had lost all its teasing, and she peeked at him from under her lashes. He looked angry. Did he get pissed when the valet assumed she was his wife? Well, too damn bad. He’d get over it. God forbid anyone should assume the manwhore settled down.
At least her ire let her breathe through the panic pushing at her. She’d been surprised how easy it had been to talk to Mike, but then she’d been wrapped up in Dimitri’s arms. He made her panic fall away in a way nothing else could.
Instead of letting her go, he pulled her into his side, his arm around her, his hand gripping her hip tightly. Tight enough there might be a bruise in the morning, but she didn’t care. She enjoyed his touch.
The hotel was as gorgeous inside as it was outside. She leaned into Dimitri and absorbed the room made to look more like a parlor than a hotel lobby. She loved it. Had she not been terrified of people, she might even have come down here in the middle of the night and basked in the charm of the room.
The circular staircase called to her, but that was out of the question. Dimitri would never make it up the stairs and she wouldn’t ask him to try. Man, it would be fun to go up it, though. She loved them ever since she watched Casper with Christina Ricci when she was a little girl.
She paid no attention to Dimitri as he talked to the front desk attendant. The girl was fluttering her eyelashes like mad, and Becca tried not to smirk. If she only knew Dimitri would eat her up and spit her out in the morning. How many women had gone into a relationship with him thinking they’d be the one to change him? To make him want to keep them?
Women were blind when it came to Dimitri Kincaid.
Sometimes even she was.
He tugged at her, and she looked up. “Ready?”
“Yeah. Did you ask them to send all the boxes up to the room?”
He nodded, and they started walking toward the elevator. “We’re on the top floor with a balcony we can sit on and look out over the city. I thought you’d like that, since there’s probably no way I’m getting you out sightseeing.”
She burst out laughing at his disappointed tone. “You’ll be dead to the world tomorrow. Don’t go pouting about sightseeing when I know you’ll sleep the day away.”
“My nap refreshed me.” The elevator opened, and he pulled her in. “You still good?”
“Yes.” She let herself lean against him, breathing him in.
“Good, then, maybe you won’t be pissed at me when we get to the room.”
Becca tilted her head to look up. “Why would I be pissed about the room?”
The elevator dinged open and he pulled her out, refusing to answer. Their room was at the very end of the hall, and when he opened the door, she saw exactly why he thought she’d be pissed.
It was a suite. She’d booked him a king suite, but when he said he’d gotten a double, she assumed he’d downgraded. What he knew she’d be mad about was the fact that one big bed stood beyond the front room.
A single king bed.
Chapter Six
He was out of his fucking mind! Becca refused to move, even when he tried to push her into the room. How dare he? He’d promised her own bed. She turned on him, fury blazing, her finger stabbing him in the chest.
“What the hell, Dimitri? What happened to a queen room?”
“I tried to get one, I swear I did, but they didn’t have one. They said if one became available they’d hold it for me, but the place is booked, Becca. There are no other rooms.”
“Then I’m finding another fucking hotel!”
She turned and stalked into the room, ignoring everything, and headed straight for the bathroom.
“There are no other fucking hotels,” he shouted through the door. “Stop acting like a two-year-old. It’s not like I’m going to fuck you.”
Her head dropped, hitting the door. What the hell was she going to do?
Dimitri stared at the closed door, aggravated with both Becca and himself. He knew she was going to go ballistic when she found out he’d lied, but he had tried. It wasn’t his fault this place was booked, as well as every other fucking hotel within five miles.
The knock at the door brought him up short. He’d been about to barge in on her and demand…what, he didn’t know, but he was glad of the diversion. He might have kissed her. It had been on his mind since he’d felt her shudder earlier and had been even harder to ignore when she’d slid down his body. God, he needed to find something to take his mind off his dick.
The mountain of boxes that greeted him shocked him out of his sexual frustration. How much shit did she order? He moved back so they could enter. Two luggage carts full of boxes, followed by another w
ith the small suitcases they’d both packed. He tipped the staff then stood marveling at the massive amount of work ahead of him.
She was right about one thing; he wouldn’t be sightseeing tomorrow. No, he’d be soaking his hand in an ice bath. She expected him to sign all this tonight?
“Becca!”
When she didn’t answer, he stomped over to the door and pounded on it. “Becca, get your ass out here. You ordered all this, and you’re damn well going to help me instead of hiding in the bathroom.”
“I am not hiding!”
“Yeah, sweetheart, you are, but we can talk about that later. Right now, we need to sort this shit.” They would definitely be discussing what happened out in the parking lot later. Or maybe they shouldn’t. He kept yo-yoing with the idea that Becca was attracted to him. He knew better than to let his thoughts wander there, but his dick kept taking them right back to the danger zone. As much as he valued Becca’s friendship, he’d never been good at resisting temptation.
The door cracked open and her big brown eyes snapped fire at him. He couldn’t stop the grin from overtaking his face, which only pissed her off further.
“No. I’m not helping you. I’m going to take a shower, and then I’m going to bed. You can just fuck off, Dimitri Kincaid.” She stalked over to the luggage cart, grabbed her suitcase, and stormed back into the bathroom, slamming the door in his face.
Well, hell. Now what the fuck was he supposed to do?
The shower turned on, and he sank down on the bed. He should probably apologize. He hadn’t meant to make her think he was laughing at her hiding in the bathroom. He’d been smiling at her behavior, yes, but only about how it made him feel. She always managed to drive away the darkness eating at him. Her smile lifted him in ways nothing else did. She’d wiped out his earlier frustration with that smile, and now she was in there thinking he was making fun of her.
Dammit.
For a romance writer, he was pretty much screwing this up.
Not that he wanted to romance her.
She was his best friend. It was taboo.
He only wished his dick would come to that conclusion.
Listening to the water run, it brought back his earlier fantasy of her in the shower, and he groaned, his dick laughing at him. The fucker needed to shut up, but thoughts of her all wet and naked egged the little bastard on. If he slipped his hand in to give himself some relief, chances were she’d walk out and catch him in the act. Try explaining that one to her. She’d risk the airport to go home.
He was fucked.
Giving up, he stood, his legs protesting, and went back into the small room. They’d also delivered a complimentary bottle of champagne, a custom with every guest. Nice touch. He grabbed the bottle and two glasses before opening the terrace doors. She’d come out when she was ready, and not before.
He sat in the first chair he came to and looked out over the city, all lit up. It was beautiful. He could smell the saltiness of the ocean. Maybe he could convince her to take a walk on the beach later, when no one would be out. Becca always wanted to see the ocean, and he wanted to be the one to show it to her.
Popping the cork, he poured himself some champagne. It wasn’t too bad. Not as good as what he usually drank, but still, it was decent. Maybe the alcohol would loosen her up enough that her anxiety wouldn’t stop her from seeing the South Carolina coastline.
When she finally showed up, he pretended not to notice her staring at him from the doorway. Best to let her come to him. He’d pushed her enough for one day. He could wait her out.
Becca frowned. She’d expected to see him digging through boxes, but here he sat sipping wine or something. Not a care in the world. Didn’t he understand how much there was to do? Or was he just going to ignore it and hope she’d do it for him?
Fucker. She wasn’t going to do it for him. She might relent and help him, but not if he wasn’t going to even try. He always took her for granted. Always expected her to bail him out of situations. Well, not this time.
“What the hell are you doing out here?”
“Looking at the city.” His voice came out soft, almost somber. It made her frown. What was he up to? “Take a seat, Becca. Have some champagne and enjoy the view.”
“Are you okay?” She dropped down into the seat on his left.
“Yeah, just thinking.”
“About what?”
He shook his head, finally turning his attention to her. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t laughing at you earlier. I was smiling because you made me happy. That’s all.”
“I made you happy yelling at you?” Now she knew he’d really lost his marbles.
“Yes. You always do, Becca. It’s why I call you sometimes late at night. You’re the only person I know who can pull me out of my depression. I never thanked you for that.”
“What are you talking about, D?”
“After we figured out my legs weren’t going to heal on their own, I got mad. I got sad, and finally just downright depressed. Some nights I went down some pretty scary roads. That’s when I’d call and ask you to talk to me. Your voice always pulled me out of my funk.”
She’d had no idea. She thought he’d just been ignoring time zones. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Say what, exactly, Becca? Sorry to disturb your sleep, but if you don’t talk to me right now, I might go eat a bottle of pills? No, I wasn’t going to put that on you.”
She stood and moved until she was standing behind him before wrapping her arms around him, burying her face in his hair. “You should have told me, Dimitri. I would have come to LA and helped you.”
He laughed, and it shook her arms. “You haven’t left your apartment in two years, Krasivaya. You might have wanted to, but I doubt you would have.”
She thought about that before answering him. There were only two people in this world important enough to her to make her get on a plane and risk a panic attack—Jackson and Dimitri.
“You’re wrong, Dimitri. If you really needed me, I would have forced myself out of my safe haven and come to help you. Do you know why?”
“Why?” He swiveled his head, and she stared down into those beautiful blue eyes.
“Because no matter where you are or what you’re doing, if I called you and said I needed you, you’d be on the next flight out. It’s what best friends do.” She kissed his forehead. “You’re as much my family as Jackson is, and I would have come running.”
He twisted in his chair and pulled her onto his lap, hugging her so tightly, she couldn’t breathe. “I love you, Becca.”
“I love you too.” She pinched him so he’d loosen his hold.
“Ouch.”
She shrugged and winked at him. “I couldn’t breathe.”
“So, you didn’t consider my needing you to come to this thing something vital, eh?”
“No.” She snuggled into him, loving having him wrapped around her. These memories would last her a lifetime. “I thought you were just being pissy. If you had told me about your legs, I would have tried my best.”
“But you might not have made it out that door?”
“Probably not.” Dimitri shifted her on his lap and reached over to pour out more champagne. “It’s not the same thing as swallowing a bottle of pills. I’d have gotten on a plane and dealt with the panic attacks until I reached your house for that. Don’t ever not call, Dimitri. If I lost you, it would be like losing a part of myself. Don’t you dare put me through that.”
“You’d have to get in line behind Mama and Babushka.”
“Your grandmother is quite the character.” Becca smiled thinking about the little woman who terrified all her grandsons. She’d met her back when she’d visited Virginia during Dimitri’s senior year in high school. She and his uncle came to pick him up from school, not knowing he was in detention. Laughter spilled out when she remembered the look of horror on Dimitri’s face when he’d seen her and had to explain why he was in detention.
“What’s so fun
ny?” He handed her a glass and settled back, seemingly content to let her sit in his lap. She didn’t want to move either.
“I was thinking of the time your grandmother showed up at school.”
A lazy grin appeared. “I remember that. She demanded to know what I’d done and went on a rant in Russian, scaring Mrs. Bland. I love that old woman.”
Becca took a drink of the champagne and coughed as the bubbles assaulted her.
“Easy, Krasivaya. You sip it, not drink it like you would wine.”
How the hell was she supposed to know that? She’d never had champagne before. Her cheeks warmed with embarrassment. Just another difference between the two of them. He was so much more sophisticated than she was.
“Your face flames the softest shade of pink when you get embarrassed.”
“Didn’t your babushka teach you not to call attention to a lady’s embarrassment? It’s bad manners.”
“Probably.” His thumb started to rub slow circles into her upper arm as he sipped his own champagne. “I was never overly good at remembering them, though.”
Her lungs froze. His touch, while absentminded, was enough to send chills up her spine. He had no idea what he did to her.
“Sometimes I do remember them, but I don’t care. I don’t want to be proper. It’s not as fun as misbehaving.” His head dipped until his lips were right by her ear. “Don’t you think so, Krasivaya?”
“What does that mean?” Her own voice turned whisper-soft. This was so not good. She needed to get up. To put distance between them.
“That’s not our game, sweetheart.” His nose skimmed along her ear, down her jaw. “Ya tebya khochu.”
“It was never a fair game,” she squeaked out when his lips replaced his nose and traveled back up to her ear.