“I taught Graham to ride a bike. The day was gloomy, fog so bloody thick. The little bugger wouldn’t take no for an answer. You’ve seen thewanka. Chipper, highly convincing.”
A slow smile steadies itself on my lips for Graham, the good guy. Victor might be a danger to my sanity, yet his protective capacity wasn’t lost on me while he held me in his arms. I’m noteasilyconvinced, but Victor’s love for his brother becomes my conviction.God, I want that . . . with him.
Victor offers a dry, humorless laugh. “Had the best day of his life, he said. Then the little wanka broke his wrist. That’s the first and last time Graham got hurt on my watch.”
Guilt smolders in his eyes and something else.
Dark.
Sinister.
Something that speaks to my haunted soul. Something that, I suspect if I were having this discussion with anyone other than Victor, would make me succumb to the nightmare that’s plagued me for thirteen months. Although I shouldn’t put all my faith inman, in Victor, he grounds me, strengthens me.
So, I place my all into supporting him. Maybe seeing his brother with a broken wrist scarred Victor? Sympathetic, I murmur, “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t require an apology, Little One. Just a basic understanding that I must protect him. I know no other way.”
Awe, that’s the sweetest thing ever.“Okay,” I whisper.
While stroking the globe of my breast, Victor says, “Wewillmeet for dinner tomorrow night.” I close my eyes for a moment, relishing his embrace. When I open them, he’s gone.
21
LUXURY
Day Nineteen
Aromatic seasonings perfume the Italian Bistro. The tomato sauce makes me want to lick the air. It must have been simmering for ages. As we’re escorted over the red-and-white checkered vinyl flooring, I wonder if Victor’s cunning ways led the doctor to research this place.
The host seats us at a leather U-shaped booth. Victor slides in next to me. His arm slips around my shoulders. My attempt to wriggle away is fruitless because of the intimidating doctor.
“Although I doubt anyone can see us, don’t try your luck, or I’m out.”
“Promise.” Victor crosses his fingers. A single, tiny tea light paints the man for what he is—my Achilles heel.If onlyI could add a pinch of sincerity or a dash of benevolence to him. A few minutes later, he’s ordered the house red. While I take a sip of the bitter wine, Victor’s fingers run delicately over the nape of my neck.
“Hey.”
“You look tense, Luxury.”
“Vic, I already told you . . .” My voice mellows out as my vertebraeclickinto place. A trembled groan escapes my lips. Victor kneads my shoulders. The magic evolves into a temptation I’m too helpless to deny. I moan as Victor’s hand disappears into the collar of my faux pearl-buttoned blouse, beneath the lace bra, over a peaked nipple, then squeezes.
I’msqueezing my thighs together to counteract pussy pulsations.
God, I don’t recall being so easy.
Victor releases me.
“I need more,” I gasp.Damn, Luxxie! He’s older, experienced. You need to play it cool.The tips of my fingers follow the wine stem in a nonchalant gesture. “A little more to drink.”
A vicious mask has fallen over his Adonis features as his entire rock-hard body turns toward me.
I’m the gerbil who shook her fat, fluffy ass in a snake’s face. Victor’s waiting for me to come clean and admit that my hunger is for him alone.
Fuck his certitude.
“More you shall have.” Victor grips my thigh, nudging upward beneath the hem of my burgundy skirt.
“Can I start you off with . . .”