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You Don't Own Me 2 (The Russian Don 2)

Page 38

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Something passes briefly over his face, an old hurt, or betrayal, then it is gone. I reach out and touch his hand. ‘Hey, trust me. I’m not going to hurt you.’ His hand grasps mine hard.

My affogato arrives in a little glass dish and he releases my hand. I dip the spoon into the ice cream floating in coffee and taste it.

‘Mmmm … very nice,’ I say. ‘Want to try?’

‘No, there is still a bit of your taste in my mouth and I don’t want to lose it,’ he drawls lazily.

I blink, my pulse quickening. Hell, this man sure can throw me off guard at the drop of a hat.

Just then the spotlights for the stage come on and I drag my eyes away. A man in a white velvet jacket and a bow tie goes to sit at the piano and the audience claps. He starts playing the piano and a woman with wavy hair in a long red gown comes to stand next to him.

She picks up a mic from the top of the piano and starts singing an Italian song. She is actually very beautiful, in that inimitable Mediterranean way. Her dark and soulful eyes search the room restlessly until they find Zane in the crowd, and fix on him. For an unguarded moment I see her freeze and falter, then she catches herself. Flicking her luxuriant hair she turns her back on her audience and sings the next line facing away from us.

By the time she turns around to face us, she is strong and confident again. Her voice is smooth and her gaze fixed on Zane. She is singing for him! I swivel my eyes surreptitiously to look at Zane, and he has gone completely still. My heart falls like a stone.

On stage the woman drapes herself erotically on the white piano.

Taking a deep breath and trying to look normal, I spoon some ice cream into my mouth. I feel the cold travel into my stomach, and try to stop the sensation that it has all been unreal, just a dream. That I was just fucking with myself.

There is nothing between us, except his lust and my stupidity.

He brought me here knowing she would be here. It’s as obvious as hell that they used to be or still are lovers. Why do that to me? Why rub my nose in it? Unless I am here to make her jealous!

I lean back into the plush seat. I can’t even get up and leave. I wouldn’t know where to go. Plus I am here on a fucking fake passport. I’ll just have to sit here like a sour lemon and watch some other woman eyefuck the man I am in love with. I sit stiffly as she finishes her song. It seems to last for hours. I don’t look at Zane.

‘Grazia,’ she breathes seductively into her mic, and starts gyrating towards us. I take a deep breath. Behave, Dahlia. Be dignified. Be the better woman.

‘Zane,’ she calls. Even his name on her tongue is like a mating call. She has no eyes for anyone but him. I don’t even register.

‘Ciao, Silvia,’ Zane says softly.

She leans down and kisses his cheek close to his mouth leaving behind a lipstick mark. ‘I’ve missed you,’ she whispers, but I still catch her words and instantly feel acid pouring into my stomach. How dare they do that in front of me? If I stay here a moment longer I’m going to scratch her eyes out and I’ve never been violent with another human being before and I really don’t want to spoil my perfect record. Well, except that time I tried to slap Zane and that other time I tried to attack him, but I was horribly provoked.

I am about to stand and excuse myself in the iciest voice I can manage when Zane says to her, ‘I didn’t know you worked here now.’

‘Why? Wouldn’t you have come if you knew?’ she asks lightly, but it doesn’t hide her terrible sadness.

She is in love with him, but I don’t care. I want to jump up and do a happy dance right here. He didn’t know she would be here. He didn’t bring me here to humiliate me, or make her jealous. It is just one of those weird coincidences.

She opens her mouth to say something else but Zane says, ‘Silvia, meet Dahlia, my wife. Dahlia, meet Silvia, a very old friend.’

The news hits her hard. She blinks with shock and confusion. Reluctantly she turns towards me, her eyes flying to my rings.

‘Congratulations,’ she says hoarsely. ‘You are a very lucky woman.’

‘Thank you,’ I say.

‘I really should go back to my routine,’ she says.

‘Nice to have met you,’ I say.

She nods then turns to Zane. ‘I hope you will be very happy,’ she chokes.


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