“So, Axel,” Dad begins in an obvious attempt to get rid of the awkwardness. I am mortified. I was definitely talking to Axel, I’ve never called my father Daddy before. “What’s it like being a foreign diplomat?” My head pops up and I look in his eyes. A diplomat? What the hell is that? I am reminded yet again that I know nothing about the man. How can I truly be in love and know nothing about him?
“It has its moments,” Axel says cryptically and goes back to his meal.
As the evening winds down, I can tell my dad is trying to push Axel out the door.
“Thank you for bringing our daughter home,” my dad says, pressing some cash into his hands.
“Gratuity is not necessary,” Axel says, giving it back. Thank God.
“Where the hell are you going?” Dad says when Axel hands me my purse.
“I’m going back to Axel’s hotel. I have some things to take care of. I’ll be back tomorrow,” I tell him.
“But…”
“Let her go, Henry,” Mom says, rescuing me. My mom knows me well. She just winks at me and smiles.
In the car, he says nothing. Nothing at all. I am fuming, beyond pissed off. Back in the hotel room, I excuse myself to the bathroom and strip out my clothes and pull on the plush hotel robe. After brushing my teeth, I find him drinking whiskey and sitting on the couch.
“What did my dad mean back there when he called you a diplomat?” I begin, as calmly as I can manage. It still comes out like a pissed off New Yorker yelling at a cabbie.
“I normally work for Ambassador Reynolds. He represents U.N. interests in Italy. My specialized area of responsibility is security at the embassy in Rome. I am on...leave I guess you can say.
“This is what you do for vacation? Rescue people? How long have you been on..leave?” I ask, using air quotes to make sure he knows I am annoyed.
“Yes. I have to stay busy. I haven’t done that job in over five years” That’s it. That’s all he says.
“Why do you want me to leave all of a sudden?” I yell. “Why won’t you talk to me. Why won’t you let me in? I gave you everything and you give me nothing.” I’m about to cry. Fuck, I hate crying. I’ve done enough of it to last a lifetime.
“I thought that’s what you wanted? That’s all you’ve said for days and days. And what do you mean, I haven’t given you anything? How can you fucking say that?”
“That’s how I feel,” I say brattily, rolling my eyes.
The next thing I know, he’s on me. His tongue is in my mouth and he’s opening my robe, sliding it down my arms. He lifts me up and carries me to the bed where he drops me unceremoniously. I watch him strip, needing him. He turns me on like a fucking light switch.
“Open your legs little girl, let Daddy see that cunt.” My legs open without a thought. “Good girl. I’m about to give you everything.”
“Promise?”
Then he’s inside of me and I forget everything we were fighting about. Nothing else matters when he’s like this.
“Guaranteed.”
“I love you,” I moan. I swear he’s hitting my womb like this. He’s so deep and thrusting so powerfully, I am about to lose my damn mind.
“I love you too, little girl. I love you too.”
Why does he want me to go if he loves me so much?
Chapter Twelve
AXEL
I have been up for hours, sitting in the chair next to the bed watching her sleep. She has been slumbering since I finished fucking my demons out last night and I have been awake. The past twelve hours have been in motion and I keep coming back to the conversation I overheard between her and Kimbella. Replaying the sadness in her voice as she told her best friend she isn’t sure if I really love her. The fact that she could question it and not see how she has consumed every part of me, says a lot about how much I am fucking this up.
I was reluctant to start anything with her because I knew from the moment I rescued her that she could be the very thing that changes me. I have been content in the life I chose for myself. See, my parents came to America before we were born. They held their positions in Italy and my brother and I always knew growing up our paths would lead us back to Italy at the behest of my father. I watched growing up as my father and mother flounced around, pretending to have the perfect life and children. I watched as the memory of our baby sister was allowed to diminish in order to keep their image. My brother and I had to recite over and over how we would never mention Chassie’s name again. Yea. I have those parents.