“Archie spends his time playing volleyball in the garden.”
“I’ll do anything. Please, don’t hurt him.”
He gave a ghost of a smile. “Do as I tell you.”
“I will.” And I meant it.
“See, this isn’t so bad, is it?”
A bitter realization. “Anyway, no one will recognize me.”
The dashing man beside me, with his arm tight around my waist, nudged me up against green damask wallpaper. His fingers trailed my scalp, and with a tug, he freed my dark locks. They spilled over my shoulders, proving he didn’t care if others recognized me or not.
The maître d’ led us to a table all the way across the full dining room. Chatter and the clatter of knives and forks on plates echoed around us. Soft piano music playing from another part of the hotel found its way to entertain those who didn’t care about paying too much for an entree.
Rigid with tension, I held Cassius’s hand as we navigated around the white linen-covered tables to find our corner table. I went to sit, and he stood behind my chair to ease it in for me, appearing as the ultimate gentleman.
He sat beside me and gave the order to the waiter, a man with a crew cut whose eyes avoided mine. “Champagne.”
I stole the chance to look around to see if I recognized anyone. Maybe if I’d worn the yellow dress, I would be more likely to spark a familiar glance. This chintzy halter neck was a spectacular misfire. It made me mingle easily with the elite crowd who hardly looked our way.
When crew cut returned for our order, Cassius gave him back the menu and chose. “A dozen oysters. On the half-shell.”
I leaned forward and whispered, “You didn’t ask if I’m allergic to seafood.”
He frowned. “Are you?”
“No.”
“Didn’t think so. It certainly didn’t come up in my report.” He flicked the napkin and laid it over his lap.
“You planned this?”
“Your father is evasive. It wouldn’t surprise me if he just disappears.”
He wouldn’t leave me here, not with this man, not like this.
There was one thing that would bring attention our way. I’d witnessed it too many times. The raised voices of my parents arguing that brought long, painful stares our way. Disapproving glances from those who overheard. The last time we’d visited here, they’d argued about a trip out of state that Mom had wanted to take.
Maybe all this would change everything.
Bring us closer.
Remind us how precious our family was before this man invaded our lives.
“What kind of man drags a woman out like this?” I muttered, testing the waters. “To have her taste freedom but not let her have it.”
He slid his knife to the left as though my words didn’t faze him.
“Did you hear me?” I hissed.
“Unfortunately for you.” He smirked. “Your ploy won’t work, Anya. I don’t argue. I debate. And I always win.”
“You have such a high opinion of yourself.” I reached into my purse, pulled out the red lipstick, and reapplied it while using the gold compact mirror. I ran my tongue sensually over my lips.
“Do you know why women wear lipstick?” I asked.
He rested the tip of his tongue in the corner of his mouth because he knew where I was going with this.
“Because a woman’s mouth reflects another part of her anatomy,” I chided.
“Thank you for explaining that so succinctly, Anya.” He suppressed a smile. “I’m envisioning it.”
My face flushed as I tucked the lipstick and compact back in the purse. Buying time so I wouldn’t see him looking this way.
“You don’t need makeup. You’re naturally ravishing.”
I wanted to believe him. I’d spent too long dressed down in drab clothes with nowhere to go.
Searching his face, I tried to see the sincerity in his usually closed-off demeanor.
His arched brow hinted he was pleased with my reaction. The flush of my cheeks. The silencing of my voice, him controlling the moment with a strike of victory.
“Anya, you’re stunning.”
I felt a fluttering in my chest that moved low into my belly.
Yes, he was evil, but he was still the first man to show any interest in me or even compliment me. I had been hidden away. Rarely allowed to mingle with others. Forbidden to spend any time with strangers. “I’m not used to. . . ”
“The truth?” His frown deepened as he considered that, making me regret saying it.
Giving him anything of my old life was a bad idea because his words resonated in my heart like a string on a violin being plucked for the very first time.
Silence reigned over our table when the waiter set down a bottle of champagne nestled in a silver cooler. He uncorked it to prove he’d done this too many times to count. Then poured it into two flutes, all the while glancing at me and then Cassius. Perhaps sensing the tension, because after our glasses were filled to the brim, he withdrew, heading off to talk with other diners.