Chapter 11
Kaz walks into the room as though he’s entering a board meeting. His expression is fixed and emotionless as he makes his way through the tables, heading straight toward me.
“Don’t.” I grab hold of Rosa’s wrist when she starts to get up.
“It’s his seat,” she whispers.
I turn to her. “He gave up his seat when he decided to hand me over to his goons.”
With a worried gaze, she glances at him, then back to me. “Okay, I’ll stay at least until Kara gets back.”
“I’m here.” Kara announces breathlessly. I can only guess she sprinted through the room and leapt onto the platform.
He’s almost close enough to hear us talking.
“Sit down.” I mutter to Kara.
She takes her seat, still trying to catch her breath.
Kaz’s eyes narrow on us as he approaches. The tick in his jaw returns.
The entire room has their attention focused on us. What sort of a scene is going to play out before them?
My skin heats beneath the glare my uncle shoots at me. I can practically hear his old grinch's voice demanding I don’t cause a problem. Demanding I let this man walk all over me. my own feelings be damned.
“Thank you for keeping my place warm, but I’m here now.” Kaz picks the right friend to address.
“Oh. Yes, of course.” Rosa goes to stand up, but I grab her wrist again.
“Stay put.” Kara demands in a hushed whisper.
Kaz moves his gaze to me. “I believe it’s customary for the groom to sit with the bride.”
“That’s true, however, the groom couldn’t be bothered to join the wedding celebration. So other arrangements have been made.” If my uncle had his way, an arrow would be piercing my chest right now.
“The groom had important things to do.”
“Such as?” I tilt my head to the side.
“Kaz! Oh, good you’re here.” The woman who caught me in my sprint of shame last night hurries up to the table and wraps her arm around Kaz’s waist.
“I was afraid you’d gotten lost. This city is so big and confusing. But you’re here now. Which is good. We ate already; you missed dinner.”
She flicks her gaze to me, gives a soft smile. “Maybe if you ask nicely, your wife—who looks amazing in her dress by the way—will ask you to join her. Maybe a little apology for being so late?”
“Vee.” Another man, a slightly older version of Kaz, joins our little huddle. “Your ice cream is melting.”
“That’s all right, I just wanted to be sure Kaz was okay.” She smiles brightly at him.
“Hmm.” He gives Kaz a disapproving look.
“I’m fine, Vee. Go eat your ice cream, and I’ll sit with my wife and do the same.” Kaz locks eyes with me. “But she’ll need to make room for me.”
Just as he makes his declaration, a server shows up with three dessert ice creams, placing the little silver bowls filled with vanilla ice cream and a cookie crumble on top.
“Kara.” Rosa gets up from her seat. “Let them have their dessert.”
“Fine.” Kara picks up her ice cream. “He can get his own, though.”
Kara drags her chair with her to the end of the platform and leaves it so it’s blocking Kaz’s way. If Rosa wasn’t pulling on her arm to take her away, I’m positive Kara would have plenty to say to him.
“It’s okay, Kara.” I assure her when she glances over her shoulder at me. “It’s okay.”
“Let’s sit back down.” Vee is escorted away from our table, and Kaz is left standing at the bottom of the platform looking up at me.
“Are you going to come up or not?” I pick up the spoon and dig a tiny bit of the ice cream out.
My stomach can’t handle much more tension today, and the sauce on the chicken was so rich I’m not sure I can handle even a small bite of the ice cream.
Kaz moves Kara’s chair onto the floor next to him and steps up onto the platform. I move my chair slightly to the right, giving him more space to sit.
Once he’s seated, conversations start up again in the room. Tension eases in the air.
If only it would ease up in my chest.
He unbuttons his jacket as he sits. His shoulders are so broad I need to move over another inch to keep from touching him.
“So, what did you have to do that was so important you couldn’t ride from the church to the hotel with me?” I ask, sliding another small bit of ice cream from my spoon into my mouth.
His eyes transfix on my lips.
“A meeting that couldn’t be put off.”
“Ah.” I put my spoon down. Another bite and my stomach may completely revolt altogether.
The day has been humiliating enough without adding to it by vomiting all over him.
Though, it would serve him right. Maybe he’d think twice about being a complete ass if he had to walk around with the stench of the chicken marsala lingering on his skin.
The mental image of it puts a small smile on my face.
“You seem to have fared well enough.” He drapes one arm over the back of my chair, twisting to look at me.
“I’m a big girl, Kaz. I’ve been able to feed myself just fine for decades now.”
His eyes travel over my shoulders then down the rest of me.
“You weren’t wearing this at the church.” He runs the tip of his finger over the neckline of my dress.
“No. I wasn’t.” I lean away, rejecting his touch.
“This is better than that thing you had on.”
“That thing was a family heirloom.” I don’t know why I’m defending that ugly gown.
No, that’s not true. It’s because he doesn’t get to insult me. Even if he’s correct, he doesn’t have the right.
“It should be burned.”
I jerk my chin up, raising my eyes to his. “Maybe you can destroy it, like my family. You’re good at that, destroying what you don’t like.”
His jaw clenches.
“Now isn’t the time for that conversation.”
“No? You don’t want to talk about how you killed my brothers?”
“You should stop now.” There’s a dense warning in his tone, but I ignore it and charge straight ahead.
“Okay, maybe you want to talk about those obscene vows you forced me to take in church. You should know that no matter what I said at that altar I will never bend to you. I will never see you as anything other than what you are.”
“What’s that?” He leans closer, that sexy scented aftershave of his that made my knees so damn wobbly last night enveloping me.
I blink, shoving away the memory of his tongue, his lips, his cock.
“A monster.”
He surprises me. Leaning back from me, he grins.
“I can be, yes.” He touches my cheek. “You should remember that when you decide to play games like you did last night.”
“What games?”
“What did you think you would do? Take me for a test ride? Maybe get me to like you enough that I might let you off the hook today?”
All words fly out of my brain.
He thinks I planned last night.
“You can’t possibly be that stupid.” I lean back in my chair, studying him.
The tension isn’t just in his jaw, it’s everywhere. He’s a grenade ready to blow.
“You really should watch how you talk to your husband.” He snags my spoon and digs into my ice cream, taking a large scoop and shoving it into his mouth.
Has anyone ever died from an ice cream headache?
He doesn’t even have the decency to be bothered by the pain of devouring the frozen dessert. I suppose it takes more than chilled cream to kill the devil.
“First of all, how would I have known you were going to be at Lush? Second of all, how would I benefit from what happened last night?” I pause. “Plus, you approached me. Not the other way around. If you hadn’t, I never would have even seen you.”
He seems to consider my words but then shrugs. “You’re not exactly coming from the world’s most honest blood line.”
“Are you serious?” My head might explode from the hypocrisy.
He scrapes the last bit of ice cream soaked cookie crumbles out of the dish, licking his spoon clean. Then he checks his watch.
“It’s a good thing your uncle didn’t bother with a band.”
Dazed by the sudden change in trajectory of conversation, I look around the room and realize he’s right. There’s no band or DJ.
“Funerals rarely provide musical entertainment,” I mutter.
“Whose funeral exactly are we attending? Yours or mine?”
“To some degree, probably both.” I can acknowledge that he’s not coming to this marriage with any hope of happiness, either.
But then again, I’m not sure demons ever think about such trivial things as happiness.
“Your friend over there, the one with the temper—”
“You mean Kara?”
“Yes, her. Her father owns a large stake in Lush. So it’s not inconceivable that you wouldn’t be able to find out I have access to the club. You could have easily found out I was there last night and then headed over.”
“You think I asked the security team at Lush to keep an eye out for you and give me a call if you showed up?” While possible, ridiculous.
“I think you could have.”
“You could have done the same.” I point out.
“Ah, but I don’t have any ownership in the club.”
“No. You just have your big bad name and reputation to bully your way into things. It’s not that big of a stretch to believe you could have been told of my whereabouts. Maybe you had one of your goons following me?”
“You’re right. That’s possible.” He grins. “But why would I waste their time when I was going to have you today?”
“I don’t know. Intel on the sacrificial lamb?”
He laughs, but it’s joyless. Not like last night.
“You mean, finding out if my fiancée is loyal or if she’s the sort of woman who has one-night flings the night before she vows her life and loyalty to another man?”
My fingernails dig into my palms.
“Are you trying to slut shame me?” Tears threaten, his accusation setting my blood on fire. “Really? A man who was propositioned via napkin? You didn’t look out of place last night.”
I take a deep breath and will the stupid tears to go away. He won’t see them for the drops of anger that they are. His ego will consider them tears of sadness, or humiliation.
“The night before your wedding, you were at a club that has an entire floor dedicated to renting rooms by the hour. Wearing that sexy thing you had on. And you did go home with someone last night. That’s all I’m saying.”