“I’m interested,” he assured her, surprised by how true the comment was. “How old were you when you married?”
“Not old enough,” she said with a circumspect lift of her lashes. “Nineteen. Have you ever been married?”
“Hell, no.”
“Wish I’d had your sense.” The wry curl at the corner of her mouth and couched bitterness behind her eyes suggested she was being completely forthright.
A woman after my own heart, he thought ironically.
“What happened to cut your marriage short? Infidelity?” Hell, at that age he had broken up his brother’s impending marriage, coldly and deliberately.
Natalie didn’t answer right away. Her lips pursed in old disappointment as she stared out the window. “The short answer is he didn’t come to my mother’s funeral,” she finally allowed.
When she swung her face back to him, it was as if she was saying, There. I did it. As if her telling him without showing too much emotion had been very hard.
A weird, answering pain lurched in his chest.
He was a student of human behavior. People thought he was superficial and lacking in empathy. He was fine with the misconception. Deep thoughts really didn’t interest him, but he was very good at reading people. Years of living in a house where emotions were so deeply hidden you needed a pickax to find them had honed his skills. The side benefit was that it made him good at his job. Good with women.
Natalie didn’t want his sympathy, however. The keep-away vibes rolling off her were obvious and troubling. Especially because, for once, he knew exactly how she felt.
“I couldn’t face my mother’s funeral alone. I brought a date. How twisted is that?” he confided.
“Adara and Theo weren’t there?”
“No, they were.” And Nic, the older brother Demitri hadn’t known about. He averted his mind from how disturbing it had been to have a stranger enter their inner circle, as though a member of the audience had walked on stage and begun acting with the players, throwing off his lines. “We’re not close in a way that would have made something like that easier.” He’d barely spoken to them at all, too stunned and filled with questions he refused to ask.
“But you said you grew up with your mother and brother, so he must have been at the funeral with you?”
She flinched and sat back, distancing herself even more. She straightened her silverware and looked quite pale despite the golden glow of candlelight on her skin.
“He died the year before. Can we not talk about this please?”
“I’m sorry.” When had he ever been so aghast at stepping on someone’s feelings? Or apologized so sincerely to a woman? But his hand was over hers before he knew he was going to reach out to make a connection. “Really. Theo drives me bat-guano-crazy, but I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
She laughed. It was more of a sniff, and she brushed at her cheek, eyes wet and glowing when she lifted them. “Thank you. It was six years ago, but I still miss him and think about him every day.”
The waiter arrived to distract them. By the time they were alone again, Natalie had her bravest smile back in place. “Tell me why your brother drives you crazy.”
He shook his head. “You’ll have me in tears,” he dismissed.
“Your job, then. Will you talk about that?”
“You can’t be interested,” he deflected. Where were questions like “Were you in Cannes for the festival?” “Where do you summer?”
Natalie shrugged. “I’m certainly not interested in myself. This is the most excitement I’ve had in my life. True story,” she assured him with a confirming nod. “You travel, at least. Meet famous people.”
“People who think they’re famous are boring as hell. That is a true story. But come on. You must have at least one deep, dark secret that makes you interesting.”
“One,” she allowed promptly, suppressing a smile. “But it’s not very dark. Dirty blond at best. And I’m not going to tell you.” She had decided that, since this was her one chance to act like a carefree young woman instead of a mom. It was harmless, she told herself. This was only dinner.
“I want to hear it,” he insisted.
She shook her head, firm. “You’ll think differently of me. But what about you? Any dark secrets falling out of your pockets?”
* * *
His guard was so low he almost told her about Nic. The fact his siblings had kept the man’s existence from him had completely unraveled his view of his life and his place in the family. The exclusion had rocked his foundation, and he’d begun mentally separating from them, thinking more seriously about starting his own marketing firm.
Gideon had called a few weeks later to announce Adara’s pregnancy and to inform Demitri that he would be expected to step up and take on extra hours in the family business. Demitri had been needed again. Integral to the business and to his sister. Things had gone back to normal for a while, but then Adara had started trying to get everyone together. She and Theo were as thick as thieves with their parenthood jokes, and he was once again on the outside looking in.
They weren’t even leaning on him at work anymore. Quite the opposite, which was eating at his sense of self. With practiced ease he turned his mind from all of that, distracting Natalie with some of his stock stories that always drew a laugh. He knew loads of celebrities and had made a career of partying with them. His siblings had certainly never loosened up enough to ensure their highest-paying guests had fun.
That was Demitri’s job: creating distraction. Drawing and holding attention.
Natalie was rapt, thoroughly engaged with everything he told her. It wasn’t a strange occurrence for him. Everyone, women especially, responded to him. He’d recognized it early and used it to this day. The difference tonight was how much he enjoyed her attention while at the same time resenting that she wanted him to talk when he wanted to hear more about her.
They lingered over their meal, finishing the bottle of wine and nursing coffee, steering away from personal topics in favor of movies and news scandals and places he’d been that she’d like to visit.
“You’re a single woman. Get on a plane,” he ordered. “What’s holding you back?”
“I did get on a plane,” she argued good-naturedly, shielding her eyes with a downward sweep of her lashes. “I’m here. Dining on the Seine. Thank you for a lovely evening,” she added, flashing her gaze back up to his. “This is what I’d hoped for when I applied for this trip.”
She’d been looking for a man to seduce her. He could see it and a pulse of sexual excitement pumped through him. But seduction required patience, he reminded himself.
“Do you like dancing? We could go to a club.”
“I... It’s a work night,” she argued, but the slant of her gaze told him she was tempted.
He smirked. “I begin to see why you don’t have a life.” He signaled for the check.
“Note to self—boss thinks a work ethic is overrated,” she chirped.
“I’m not your boss,” he reminded. “C’mon. I know you want to tick the box on dance in a Paris nightclub.”
“Yes, but...” She canted her head at him, nose wrinkled. “I’m not dressed for it.”
“Believe me, truly cool people do not dress for clubs. They drop in on impulse.”
“And get turned away at the door for not being on the list.”
“You’re adorable. I’m always on the list.”
* * *
She had definitely had one glass too many if she was teetering into not giving a damn about work or propriety, but Demitri was a difficult man to say no to. He took her hand and wound her through the restaurant, tucking her into the back of the limo and angling his body so he looked at her the whole way to the club.
“This is a bad idea,” she insisted, trying desperately to hang on to a few grains of common sense while turning a challenging look on him that only clicked into a locked gaze with his.
His grin widened. “Because it’s turning into more than dinner?”
“You’re the kind of man who always gets what he wants, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he answered without reserve.
Be careful, Natalie. Be very, very careful.
“Well, I’m only going along out of curiosity,” she excused with a toss of her hair. “Don’t say I led you on. Oh, we won’t even get in,” she added as they pulled up at the entrance where a hundred people stood in the rain, all dressed to the nines.
He made a pithy noise and waited until the chauffeur had opened the door and held an umbrella for them, walking them to the door.
“Jean,” Demitri greeted the doorman, slipping him a bill without even pausing.
Pounding music accosted them as they entered the dark interior. Flashes of neon pierced the violet glow while strips of white stood out in stark contrast. As they wound through the crowded tables and bouncing bodies, a stunning woman with a lot of dark skin exposed by her French maid inspired two-piece bikini lowered her serving tray and kissed both of Demitri’s cheeks. They had a brief conversation, she pointed, he nodded and then he tugged Natalie along with him as they continued toward the back of the club.