Serving HIM Box Set (22 page)

“Fine.” The word was clipped, followed by the sound of the call being cut off.

He emerged from the elevator a few minutes later and I swallowed. Convulsively, I tightened my fingers on the strap of my bag. It was a tidy little affair that served as both purse and briefcase and just then, it kept me from reaching for him.

“We need to talk,” he said, coming in close and taking up all of my personal space and then some.

“I'm aware of that.” I managed a cool tone. “I just don't think this is the time.”

“Oh?” That single syllable seemed to carry the perfect amount of curiosity and royal demand. I had the fleeting idea that a hundred, maybe two hundred years ago, he would have been perfectly at home striding down a street in London, perhaps Paris—old world aristocracy of course—clad in a coat of velvet with one of those ruffled shirts men used to wear, over a pair of tight trousers that ended in a pair of polished boots right up to his knees, giving orders naturally and watching as the peasants scrambled to obey. We were really from different worlds.

As I looked away, Dominic reached up and brushed his thumb across my chin. “When is the time, Aleena?”

Startled by the touch—right here in public—I jerked back.

Heat…and something else…glowed in his eyes.

“I…” I cleared my throat and pretended to check the time. “Tonight, Dominic. We can talk tonight.”

A muscle tensed in his jaw.

He wanted to argue with me. I could tell.

Part of me wished he would.

But that wouldn’t happen. I wasn’t lying. We
did
have a busy day ahead of us and Dominic had some important business meetings to attend to. That pretty much decided it right there.

For Dominic, business came first. First, last and always. Maybe if he had said,
fuck that. Fuck the meetings, we’re doing this now,
it would have done something to ease the misery inside me.

But he didn’t.

We left.

***

It was the day from hell, even worse than the week after the debacle with the party planner.

Everything was stilted and formal. One thing was certain. Molly hadn’t been wrong when she’d said I needed to deal with this. And Dominic hadn’t been wrong, either.

We had to talk.

Either I could handle what had happened Friday or not. It was as simple as that. I had to figure out if I could let it go, and if I couldn’t, then I’d have to turn in my notice.

The meetings that normally fascinated me seemed boring and interminable. I pulled up reports for Dominic and jotted down notes. I made personal meetings and dealt with emails, all while on edge most of the day. Constantly, I could feel his eyes on me. When I’d look up, he would be looking elsewhere, but as soon as I looked away, I’d feel him studying me again.

It was enough to make any sane girl
crazy
and at that point, I didn’t feel particularly sane.

Each minute dragged on into eternity, right up until four o’clock.

The first month leading up to the opening of Dominic’s newest business, we’d often worked up until seven or later, but it had been open a few weeks now and thanks to the excellent staff he’d found, he had started leaving around five, which had left me free to do the same.

Suddenly, time didn’t go slow anymore. Those seconds seemed to speed by. It was like I’d fallen through a time warp. Minutes became seconds and I would have done
anything
to slow that clock down. I still didn’t know what I was going to say to him and I had no idea what he planned to say to me.

It was 4:39 when I locked myself in the bathroom. With my back to the door, I punched in a desperate message to Molly. Silencing the ring tone, I hoped and prayed she wouldn’t be working.

Her response came up almost right away.

Yeah, I'm working. But I'm on my break. What's up?

I punched in my response.

We haven't talked yet. We're getting ready to after work. What am I supposed to say to him?

Her answer came up:

That's easy. Tell him what you feel. Tell him what you want.

She called that easy? Hello, I didn't even
know
what I wanted.

I told her that. She responded back in the same matter of fact, no nonsense way.

Honey, you know what you want. You want him to know that he hurt you and you want an apology and you want to know that it's not going to happen again. If that bitch of a mother of his attacks you like that again, he needs to address it. He needs to address it right then and right there and tell her she can’t talk to you that way. And next time you need to be more of a bitch yourself right back to her.

I didn't know how to respond to that. She wasn't wrong.

But could I actually say that to him?

When I didn't respond right away, Molly sent me another text.

Break's wrapping up and I got to go. Look, maybe he’s just into you because you’re hot and sexy and he wants you. If that’s the case, find out, deal with it and move on because you deserve more. But if it could be more…if it is more, you’ve got to talk to him and work it out. You’ve got a right to expect him to care about you and he should know he hurt you. Either you two have something or you don’t. If you do, you've got a right to know these things. And if he cares about you, you’ve got a right to expect these things. And you owe it to yourself to stand up for yourself. You deserve better.

Two seconds later, another message came through.

Love you sweetie. Stand up. You can do it.

Pressing my head against the door, I clutched the phone tightly. Stand up.

Five o’clock rolled around and I gathered my things. But Dominic wasn’t in the office.

After a few moments, I went out to where his administrative assistant worked. The two of us had gotten to know each other fairly well and she shot me a look that managed to bring a weary smile to my face.

“I don’t know about you, but that was one lousy Monday,” Amber said softly as she held out a note. “From Mr. Snow.”

“Yeah.” I nodded in agreement and then looked down at the note.

I managed not to make any reaction as I read it and gave her a faint smile when I looked back up. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

The note, I crumpled in my hand.

You can take the car home. I’ll be there later this evening
.

So much for talking.

And I supposed that answered the unspoken question about what I meant to him.

I had Chinese delivered. Listlessly poking at the beef and broccoli for a few minutes, I gave up and just finished off the hot and sour soup, staring out my window into the park. I wanted summer. I wanted longer days so I could take walks in the evening. I also wanted warmth and sunlight and something other than the chill in the air when I went outside.

I was stirring the dregs of the soup when the penthouse door opened.

I waited.

But he didn’t come in.

Leaning back, I stared up at the ceiling. I could hear him moving around in his room and I shoved back, gathering up my trash.

He was going to jerk me around like a puppet on a string? Fine. If he wanted to talk, he could come find me when he was ready.

Controlling bastard.

I settled in my room and started to flip through the channels. I rarely watched TV anymore. Barely read. Didn’t do anything that didn’t involve work. I wondered if maybe—

My door opened.

Slowly, I turned my head and found Dominic filling the entrance.

He flicked a look around my room and then his gaze came to me. “Perhaps now is a good time to have that talk.”

Slowly, I rose. Thumbing off the TV, I put the remote down and moved over to the window. The view faced out over Manhattan and the lights and spires of the buildings turned the skyline into a jewel-bedecked panorama.

“Talk,” I said. I glanced at him over my shoulder and realized I was smiling. It was a humorless, bitter sort of smile.

Stand up
, Molly had told me. Yeah. I think maybe I needed to do that.

“Sure, Dominic. We can talk.”

Dominic’s gaze slid down to my mouth, then away.

I guess the smile wasn’t a pleasant one because he didn’t smile back. That was fine. I hadn't meant it to be nice. I went back to gazing out over the city.

I had to know where I stood. Where
we
stood and I had to know soon.

This was just too hard. Either we had something or we didn’t, but if we did…

“I’m sorry about what my mother said, how she acted,” Dominic said quietly, his voice oddly formal, almost strained.

Leaning my head against the pane of glass, I whispered softly, “You’re sorry…for your mother.”

The silence that followed was awful.

When he finally spoke, it was in that same stiff, formal voice and the sound of it made me flinch. “I realize, looking back, that I should have said something. I didn’t. I’m sorry for that.”

“Are you?” I asked quietly.

When he didn’t say anything, I turned and looked at him.

He had turned away. His back was rigid, his shoulders a hard, solid line. He looked so unapproachable.

That was fine. Just then, I didn’t think I could have handled the idea of approaching him anyway.

I think it’s time to figure out just where I stand
. The longer I stared at him, the more I realized I needed to know. “Do we have anything here?”

It was a simple enough question, I thought. I didn't know a whole lot about guys, but I did know that guys didn't like to talk about emotions and the general idea of relationships could make a guy gun shy. But the decent ones would man up and deal, right? Especially after something like what had happened.

I'd thought Dominic was one of the decent ones. I was starting to believe I'd been wrong.

He turned and looked at me, his gaze remote. “Of course we do. I think we’ve covered everything we need to cover, Aleena. I am sorry for what happened Friday. I assure you it won’t happen again.”

He was almost to the door when I spoke. I couldn’t see him through the tears in my eyes and I silently cursed myself for not being able to do this without sounding like a simpering ex.

“Damn right it won’t.” I blinked away the tears and managed to at least keep my voice steady. “I quit, Mr. Snow. I’ll work out the time needed for you to find a new assistant, but this arrangement clearly isn't working.”

I started for my bedroom. I needed to get as far away from him as I could. Antarctica sounded ideal.

Before I could open the door, one hand closed around the doorknob. He grabbed my arm with the other hand and spun me around.

“What?” he demanded. There was more emotion in his face than I’d seen all evening. No, this was the most emotion I’d seen in him since that monstrous woman he called his mother had walked in on us.

“You heard me. This isn’t working for me.” Jutting my chin up, I repeated what I’d said only moments ago. “I
quit
.”

Dominic’s mouth came down on mine.

I locked my jaw when his tongue stroked across my lips, demanding entrance. Despite the heat that twined and stroked through me, I refused to give in. After a few moments, he lifted his head.

“Why?” He remained tantalizingly close. Tormenting close. It was enough to drive me out of my mind.

“Are you
serious
?” I shoved him away. I had both regret and relief when he went.

Stepping aside, I darted past him and strode out of my apartment, toward the stairs. I’d just leave if I had to. If he touched me again, I’d probably give in, and I couldn't do that.

“I already told you I was sorry!” he shouted.

I stopped at the top of the stairs and turned around to face him. My temper was rising and I was tired of keeping it down. “And then when I asked if we had anything going on, you stiffened up like I’d shoved a hot poker up your ass!”

His reaction to that was…off.

He went white. So pale, like all of the blood had been drained. He turned away so I couldn't see his face. Bracing his hands against the wall, he stared down. “What is it you want, Aleena? Help me out here.”

“Is it really that complicated?” My hands were shaking and I couldn't tell if it was only anger or if desire was mixed in there. “I can't do this back and forth thing, okay? I need to know where I stand with you. Do we have anything going on between us? Do you
care
about me? Because
I
don’t know. I’ve never done this before.”

His answer was so quiet, I wasn’t entirely sure I’d heard him right.

“Neither have I.”

“What?” Confusion took the edge off my anger.

He lifted his head and stared at me, eyes glittering. “Neither have I.”

“But…” I flicked a hand, waving the idea off. I didn't want to stop being angry. I needed it to keep from being hurt again. “Dominic, you’ve been around the block more times than a marathon runner.”

“No.” His lip curled, an almost ironic, dismissive sort of sneer. “I’ve had sex. I’ve had sexual relationships and I’ve had lovers and I’ve escorted women to and from social events. None of them have ever gone as far as to ask me if I
cared
about them. And they wouldn’t have bothered because they knew the answer would be
no
.”

Something cold went through me, extinguishing the anger and leaving...nothing. My gaze fell away from his and I started to back up. I'd wanted an answer and I'd gotten one.

Before I could get to the steps, he was there. His hands came up and caught my arms. “But you aren’t…” An unfamiliar look drifted across his face. He looked hesitant, uncertain even.

Dominic Snow never looked uncertain.

“I don’t do relationships, Aleena. It’s an ironic twist that I decided to play around with a matchmaking company. Love is all well and good for others, but I don’t believe in it for myself.” Then he lifted a hand and pushed it into my hair. “I’ve never even wanted to care about a woman…until you came along.”

The look he gave me left me feeling stripped bare and if it wasn’t for the massive pain I felt inside, I might have…well, I don’t know what I might have done. Because that agonizing emptiness inside was about to devour me. It was about ready to just eat me alive and I couldn’t think past it.