Her nails are painted a darker shade of red than the short dress that hugs her curves. Even her makeup is flawless. It’s obvious this look—this sex kitten appeal, is deliberate.
I would like to pretend she did it for me. But two weeks ago, she looked similar. Perfectly put together and dressed with an edge of a vixen. The thought hits me as she glances up at me: this is who she is now.
Is it a lie? Is she still the woman I fell for?
Laura turns the moment my eyes read hers, preventing me from imagining running the tip of my finger along her skin. From the crook of her neck, all the way down her back. I could see myself doing it again and again until she begged me to unzip her dress. “Did you decorate it yourself?” Again, she’s polite.
I fucking hate niceties.
“I hired someone,” I say and my answer comes out flat as my eyes gauge her expression. Her knuckles are white from her tight grip, but her smile is forced. The longer the seconds draw out, the tighter her grip gets.
Maybe she’s realizing what I am. Maybe she’s come to the conclusion that she doesn’t trust the man I’ve become. I wouldn’t blame her.
I take my time, slipping off my jacket and folding it neatly before placing it over the arm of an amber leather executive chair in the corner of my office. The cufflinks are next to go, sitting them on the end of the antique bookshelf to the left of my desk. I focus on them, avoiding Laura’s prying eyes although I can feel them on me. Every step I take circles her as I move closer to where she is until I finally look up at her, feet away, but I feel miles apart with the way she looks at me.
“Are you scared of me?” I ask her and take a step forward. She doesn’t move from where she is in front of my desk. “Maybe of what I may tell you?” I take another step forward, blocking the light from the floor lamp in the far corner and causing shadows to darken her face. “Or maybe what I may do to you?”
“If you wanted to hurt me, you would have already,” she answers me with such certainty, although it’s practically whispered.
She doesn’t say anything else; she doesn’t give a hint of what’s she’s thinking or feeling. She doesn’t apologize. She doesn’t ask me for anything. The tension thickens as she waits for a response from me.
How long would she have lived without me and been perfectly fucking fine? All the while, I’ve died inside.
“You stole from a criminal,” I practically hiss. “So many others would have killed you simply to set an example.”
“You didn’t tell them,” she responds without letting a second pass. I had so much left to say, so much to make her feel the anxiousness I feel. It vanishes when her gaze softens with agony. “You didn’t tell them I took the money. Your crew never knew.” The sound of her swallowing mixes with the desperation in her voice. My gaze falls to her slender neck and then drifts down to the dip below her throat. She must have difficulty breathing now, because her lips part just to inhale and she leaves them that way. Her chest rises and falls and finally she takes a half step back.
“Derrick?” I ask her and she nods slowly, bringing my attention back to her face. Her expression gives nothing away, even if her posture gives away everything. “What else?”
“What else what?” she questions, again evenly.
“Tell me everything Derrick told you.”
“We haven’t spoken in a long time,” she says then breaks my gaze as the corners of her lips pull downward. Looking behind her, she rests against the edge of the desk, setting her purse beside her. Her hands tremble slightly until she clasps them together, hiding her emotions as she pretends to relax in front of me.
What a lie she’s become. Or is it only for me? Sucking in a breath, I rip my gaze away from her and wait for her response. “Tell me.”
“The last time I talked to him was a few years ago, when you first moved here.”
“So you’ve known—” I start to say, and it comes out like an accusation.
“That you’ve been here?” she says as she cuts me off and I only nod. “I knew when you started working with the Cross brothers because of the whispers. I called Derrick and he confirmed it.”
“What did he say?” I shouldn’t feel this heat in my blood. This apprehension that she may not like what Derrick told her. I’m not here to soothe her or comfort her though. That’s not what this is about.
I will never let her in like I did before. Never again. I learned my lesson. She made sure of that.