“I’m not a slave,” she hissed. “Don’t call me that.”
“I can call you whatever I want. Now answer me.”
It looked like her eyes were about to explode with rage. “Why do you care? You’ve never taken an interest in my personal life. Why are you so curious?”
Good question. “Just answer the damn question.”
She knew she couldn’t push me any further. If she did, her brother’s life would be on the line. Coercion was the best way to keep her in line, even if I was just bluffing. “My parents were killed by a drunk driver when I was eight. They were pinned to a tree and died on impact. It wouldn’t have mattered if the ambulance had gotten there sooner or if a better doctor were on staff that night. But maybe I could make a difference to someone someday.”
My fingers were still wrapped around the handle to my mug, but I didn’t take a drink. My food remained untouched, and I stopped breathing. Inexplicable pain washed over me when I heard her confession. I pictured her as an eight-year-old getting the news that her parents had been killed by someone who drank too much. Joseph was just a few years older than her, so he didn’t understand what was going on either. Unsuspecting pain throbbed in my chest, and I actually pitied the woman sitting across from me.
I lost my parents. So did she.
I didn’t know what to say. I had the urge to hug her, to say something to console her for her loss. But I sat rigid and still, unable to think of an appropriate action. I didn’t want her to assume I cared, so I did everything I could to make it seem like I didn’t give a damn at all.
She looked away when nothing was forthcoming.
She showed me sympathy when I told her about my parents. It wouldn’t be inappropriate if I expressed the same understanding. It didn’t mean I cared about her as a person. It just meant I wasn’t a complete asshole. “I’m sorry, Lovely.”
When she looked up, she couldn’t hide her surprise. Maybe she expected me to be rude like I usually was.
“Looks like we have more in common than I realized.”
“Yeah…seems like it.” She ran her hand through her hair, pulling it from her face and fluffing it up in the back. She finally took a bite of her food and didn’t hide the cringe that emerged across her face. “Seriously, how do you eat this crap?”
“I have a waistline to maintain. Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.”
She rolled her eyes and took another bite. She was probably hungry from not eating much the day before and fasting the entire night. She could either eat now or not eat until I returned from my meeting. “You aren’t that hot.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
I didn’t buy that at all. “Sure seems like you think I’m hot.”
“You aren’t bad to look at it. But hot? No.”
I could see the lie in her eyes. “Whatever you say, Lovely. I make you come every time we fuck, so I must be doing something right.”
She took another bite and dodged the statement altogether.
“I think you’re gorgeous.” I wasn’t ashamed to say that. When we first met, I didn’t care for her. But the longer she talked back to me, the more attitude she showed, the more my attraction grew. I loved that fire in her eyes. I loved that sassiness she showed when anyone was crossed. I adored her fearlessness.
Her guard slowly dropped once my confession had been made. Daggers weren’t in her eyes, and she actually seemed to like me—for an instant. “Okay…I do think you’re hot.”
I grinned from ear-to-ear at my victory. “You didn’t need to tell me that because I already knew. But thanks anyway.” I grabbed the newspaper that was sitting on the tray and opened it.
“I want to ask you something.”
“Yes?”
“Everywhere you go, you have a million people with you.”
“More like a dozen, but what’s your point?”
“Are you ever alone? Like, truly alone?”
I couldn’t remember the last time I went anywhere without a guard flanking me. Once my parents were killed, I was under special custody with Finley and other guards. I grew into a man with an army surrounding me at all times. The only privacy I had was when I met women for dates and good sex. “I guess not.”
“Does that bother you?”
Yes. No. I went back and forth. “It’s a small price to pay for protection.”
“I don’t think I could live like that…”
“You’re a solitary person?”
“No. But I value my independence. Sometimes I need to be alone to clear my mind. If I had people around me all the time, I’d go crazy.”
“You’ve been doing pretty well for the past three months.” When she wasn’t under my supervision, my guards were watching her. She didn’t have much alone time even in my bedroom.