Chapter Six
Daria had never thoughtherself to be the jealous type until that moment – until that second she heard another woman calling Nik by his name in a proprietary voice. It was a sound she’d probably never forget, and jealousy had already turned her blood cold even when she hadn’t yet turned around to see who it was.
In front of her, Nik’s face was tense and guarded, his eyes inscrutable. It made Daria straighten her back, as if her body instinctively knew it was about to be hurt.
She waited – she prayed and hoped, actually – for Nik to give her some sign – any sign – that the other woman saying his name like it was hers was no one, but there was none, and that was when her heart started to stutter.
Up, down, up, down it went, but Daria knew this time the rollercoaster her heart was on could – would – come crashing down at any moment.
The scent of perfume reached her first. Something bold, womanly, and expensive – something Daria would never have been able to wear without feeling like a fraud.
Down, down, down, down—-
The woman entered her line of sight. She stopped next to Nik, elegantly poised, speaking to him in fluent Greek with a teasing grin. She was tiny, with silky straight blonde hair and rosy white skin made seemingly translucent by her loose chiffon dress.
Down, down, down, down—-
Just looking at the other woman made Daria’s every insecurity rise to the fore, and she could feel herself inwardly shrinking the longer she stared at the couple in front of her.
It wasn’t that the other woman was prettier or sexier. Daria would have welcomed that kind of competition. But it wasn’t that. No, this newcomer was worse. This woman, with the way she just stood next to Nik’s chair, even flashing Daria a friendly smile – this woman threatened Daria the way no other female could.
This woman acted like she belonged to Nik, and Nik – the man who hated to hold hands, hated to do anything that would have made them look like a couple – that man, the man Daria felt something for, was letting her, was actually letting the other woman call him darling without biting her head off.
The fact made Daria’s own brain cringe for her while her heart...it was past stuttering.
Doooooooooown—-
It was staggering now, Daria’s emotional rollercoaster desperately trying to find a way to chug along even when—-
Nik stood up, and Daria almost tripped on her own feet as she struggled to do the same.
Standing together, Nik appeared more dashing while the woman appeared daintier.
But between Daria and the other woman, it was more like a troll looming over Thumbelina, and she itched to give the blonde ten-inch heels just so they could be on even footing, literally.
“Oh, dear.” A rueful note entered the woman’s voice as she looked alternately between Nik and Daria. “Did I come at a bad time?”
American just like her, Daria thought vaguely, recognizing the accent, but a lot smarter than Daria was since the other woman was bilingual at the very least.
“No. Of course not.” Nik’s voice was stiff as he answered Miranda, his gaze still trained on Daria. She had a fixed smile on her lips. It was a beautiful and terrible sight at the same time, and his tension increased.
Say something, he thought.
But for once Daria was silent.
He forced himself to look at Miranda. “If you could text me where you’re staying, I’ll be around as soon as I can.” He paused, even though he knew the next thing he would do was inevitable.
Finally, he looked at Daria. He had to. This was what it was all about – his vengeance for her deception. The time had come to claim it, regardless of how he felt about it now.
“Miranda, this is Daria Everest.” His eyes remained on Daria even as he spoke to his mistress. In front of him, Daria visibly whitened at the realization that he knew exactly who she was.
He forced himself to continue. “Daria, this is Miranda.”
Beside him, Miranda said in a soft, pleasant tone, “His fiancée.”
His fiancée. His fiancée. HIS FIANCÉE. Even as Miranda kept talking, Daria could only comprehend a few words out of many, but what little she did understand made no sense.
Keep it a secret. The media can’t find out. I never thought he’d ask.