Chapter 14
The sound of her apartment door opening and closing wakes Kara up. She’s never been a deep sleeper and the momentary noise startles her even through the closed door of her bedroom.
There’s a sliver of panic, wondering if this is the moment the creepy man who lurks in the shadows at night has finally entered her home to do who knows what to her…
…but then she remembers that Dieter is in her house. Her heart jolts for a completely different reason, her face heating as she lies in her sheets, remembering the night before. What an absolute cluster fuck . She should have sent him to a hotel last night. Anywhere other than here. That would have been the sensible thing to do.
Too bad she doesn’t always do the sensible thing where he’s concerned.
Kara gets out of bed and pulls on some baggy clothes, taking a moment to swill mouthwash in her bathroom. She can barely look at herself in the mirror, feeling the phantom of her mother whispering whore in her ear. Disgust rolls through her mind, nagging at her. How is she supposed to deal with him this morning? Or ever again? After what he did in that stupid bathroom stall?
You just let him do what he wanted, didn’t you? Her mother murmurs in that ghostly way, unpleasant and bitter as ever. Always the dark voice of blame and mocking, haunting her footsteps. You were like that with your father. You let things happen, because you wanted him to like you. To love you. An unlovable little girl with a troubled mind-
“Shut up,” Kara hisses under her breath, briefly hating her reflection. In a certain light, it’s like gazing at her mother. In other lights, she can see echoes of her father. It’s hard to say which is worse.
Steeling herself, Kara works her jaw and steps out of her bedroom.
She’ll deal with him. She’s a big girl, she can take care of her mistakes.
There’s a complete breakfast spread on her kitchen countertop from the local brunch club. Croissants, fruits, tarts, chocolate-filled crepes, healthy egg scrambles with spinach-
It smells heavenly and there is far too much of it.
“ Penelope’s delivers?” Kara questions in shock, forgetting to be awkward. She should feel awkward, shouldn’t she? The handsome blonde man sitting at her table, the one drinking coffee? Yeah, well he went down on her in public and she let it happen and she works for him-
Green eyes flicker over her baggy attire. Dieter’s expression is bland and unimpressed. His hair is fluffed up, looking so soft. Her fingers ache to touch, but no no no…
“I was hungry and you were sleeping.” Dieter gestures to an array of breakfast food covering her countertop. “The place looked good online. I wanted stuffed French toast and your coffee is disgusting, I needed something real.”
“You ordered this in yourself ? I’m so proud of you,” Kara replies, vaguely annoyed. “I distinctly remember you pretending to be incapable of doing tasks such as this.” What was all that bullshit when he refused to do this when his chef quit? Blasted game-playing bastard…
“I wasn’t about to starve like some peasant. Your fridge is appallingly empty. And small.” Dieter pulls out his phone and starts scrolling through emails, shifting in his seat to answer a few here and there, a scowl briefly passing across his features.
Work never ends for a man like Dieter Bittinger. Not even on the weekends.
With a huff, Kara fills a plate and sits down to start eating. She won’t turn down free food, especially not from Penelope’s. The line to get in the damn restaurant is like seventy minutes in the morning, every morning.
“It’s too early for that scowl on your face,” she tells him, seeing the furrow deepening in his brow. “What’s wrong?”
“Paxton.” The name drips with a surprising hint of poison. “He’s being a nuisance.”
Kara frowns, eating a slice of honeydew. “He’s not contacting you about his legal issues, is he? I don’t want him trying to drag you into that investigation. You need to keep a distance from him, Dieter.” As if it isn’t already troubling that Dieter financially backed multiple businesses for Paxton; including the Dark Mirage.
He exhales, eyes suspiciously dark. “He’s trying to claim he never bought the warehouse property. That he never knew about it. He wants me to clear this up for him, considering the loan was from me.”
What? Kara’s fork clatters loudly. “His signature is all over the closing documents. He owns the property. Don’t answer him. This doesn’t smell right to me.”
“From your pretty lips to my ears, chickadee.” He puts the phone down, disconnecting from troubling matters.
The furrow in his brow smooths and Dieter returns to looking calm and collected, perfectly poised as he reaches for his cup of Penelope’s special coffee blend. The aroma of it is heavy, filling the air with its earthiness.
Kara’s eyes dwell on his lips and she feels her stomach flip, a certain pull behind her navel. A yearning that shouldn’t be. A memory of his mouth, the sensation of his hot breath on her thigh. His playful grin against her skin. God, his perfect white teeth, and how she wishes he had bitten her-
You don’t want him , she tells herself, even as desire flutters in her mind. Kara digs her fingernails into the skin of her thigh under the table. You don’t. He is not for you . She’s falling into his sphere of gravity and she can’t seem to save herself.
After a moment of watching him sipping his coffee and eating his mascarpone-stuffed French toast, Kara asks awkwardly, “Are we going to talk about what you did last night?”
An arch of one fine eyebrow. “Talk about what? The contract? Good job dealing with them, by the way. That sweaty moron Kallack will remember to not try pulling a fast one on you again-”
“I meant in the men’s bathroom,” she interrupts sharply. “In that stall you dragged me into. Remember that?” Don’t make me say what you did there.
Silence fills the air between them as he pins her with a confused stare, eyes hazy. She wonders if he’s hungover.
Then, he laughs, which makes her feel stupid for even asking. “What’s there to talk about?” He chuckles, green eyes bright again, shadows chased away. Seeing the expression on her face, he pauses and softens his tone a bit, removing the amusement. “Did you not like it?”
Kara gapes at him, feeling her center heat. Did she not like it? What the fuck is he on? “That’s…that’s hardly the point, Dieter!”
“So, you did like it?” He’s grinning that cheshire grin again, far too pleased with himself. God, the way he easily draws her in with that look. It feels like the whole room is tilting into his gravity.
Flushing, completely flustered, Kara scrambles to control the narrative. “That was completely unprofessional. You’re my client. We can’t have…we can’t have…”
He waits patiently for her to figure her own brain out, looking like he’s mentally laughing at her still.
“We can’t have a relationship like that,” she finishes lamely. “It’s not appropriate.”
“Are you done? Good.” He continues eating his absurdly fancy meal. “It was a bit of fun. You enjoyed it. I enjoyed it. No one is a fucking victim here. End of conversation.”
“Dieter…” she whispers, her hands falling into her lap. He never listens to reason. She’s not like Gale; she can’t effortlessly corral him where she wants him. He doesn’t let her.
He doesn’t respect you enough, her mother laughs in her mind, voice and eyes smoky with bitter mirth.
Dieter ignores her pleading tone, checking his watch absently.
“Tell me this won’t happen again,” Kara says, trying to make him see reason. “I don’t know how to say no to you-”
“That’s a lie. You say no to me all the time when you don’t like what I’m doing.” He quips dryly, no longer sounding amused. He pins her with a stare that nearly drains all her confidence away. “What are you so afraid of?”
I’m afraid of losing control. I’m afraid of getting hurt again. And again . The words die on her tongue because she’s too much of a coward to speak them aloud.
“Nothing,” she tells him instead of revealing what’s really in her heart. “I just don’t want it being said that I slept my way into this position.”
Coyly, he sips his coffee, finishing with his food. “And this is something they don’t already say?”
Kara swallows thickly, hating that he’s right.
He doesn’t stay much longer, having already called his private driver to come collect him.
At the door, he leans close to her and winks, his breath ghosting over her lips. “See ya, chickadee.”
Kara loathes the way her heart skips a beat, the way her stomach goes heavy as lead. She fights down the urge to look at his mouth, fights the urge to not grab him and stop him from walking out the door, leaving her alone-
With him gone, it feels like her heart can finally stop racing. Kara stares blankly at the door, where he just stood. There and gone. She bites her lower lip hard, hard enough to feel something other than want for a man she has no business wanting.
She digs her fingernails into the palm of her hands, chasing the pain.
“He’s the worst. I hate him.” She says it out loud, as if that will make the statement a reality.
Her phone beeps in the other room.
When she gets around to checking it, after a good shower where she does not touch herself, thinking of his mouth between her thighs, she sees a message from the unnamed number.
Her heart flips and twists, unsure of how to feel.
Nick has messaged her about their lunch meeting. A part of her cannot believe he still wants to see her after what she let happen last night.
With shaking hands, Kara types back, I’ll see you at noon.
The sun is pleasant and the city is calm today. Or as calm as the city can be, what with the territorial red-winged black birds dive bombing random passerbys, the homeless holding out their hands for coin, and the typical people milling up and down the streets, living their lives. Kara dressed in a manner that she hopes speaks to the fact that she’s not looking to impress Nick; she definitely isn’t. The point is, she still wants to manage to look effortlessly chic.
Effortless isn’t really her thing though; that’s more of a Dieter trait.
With her black capris and flowy pale blouse, Kara strolls into the pleasant little garden restaurant located around the next corner, close to the bustling shopping district. The aroma of the city mixes with greenery and flowers, filling her senses with something that reminds her of her childhood, living a more rural style life.
It doesn’t take her long to find him waiting for her. Nicholas Havenwood-Calais is already seated by a fancy little decorative wooden trellis fence with ivy growing wild on it. His tropical blue eyes trail over her as she slowly sits down across from him. His glance is heavy, a touch that she can almost feel right into her dreams at night.
His touch . Like the kiss of a razorblade on her skin. Like the draw of being unable to stop watching an accident as it’s happening. The violence and the bloody passion that Kara shouldn’t want.
Taking a deep breath, trying to embody confidence, she sits down across from him. She takes a moment to look around her at the uniquely styled boutique restaurant, at all the gorgeous arrangements of botanical life. She doesn’t know where to start with him, so she blurts, “I’ve never been here before. I’ve seen it. But…never…it’s gorgeous here.” Wow, real smart opener, Kara. Swell.
“You look good,” he says instead of replying to her nervous word vomit. His stone-cut face is parked in neutral. He gives nothing away, but the compliment feels genuine enough. He’s a good liar though…
Kara looks down at the table briefly, unsure of where to look. “Thank you.” She tries not to fidget in her lap. She refuses to tell him that he always looks good, so she changes the subject. “It’s been a while since we’ve actually seen each other. Like this. Talked-”
- fucked. Been some time since we last played our dark games. Since the last time I pretended I didn’t want it just to get you off.
“Can you look at me when you speak to me?” His tone is strained.
It takes strength to look up from the menu that Kara’s been staring at blankly. She can practically taste her pulse on her tongue, all bloody and hot. She meets his gaze and she knows he’s upset, his ego is slighted, but he wants to see her, despite all of that.
She can’t forgive him for not telling her about Claire, but there’s no denying that he still feels attached to Kara.
What they had those few months…it was raw. Depraved . Something not easily found in other people. Perhaps shouldn’t be found-
“I’m sorry about what you saw. Last night.” Kara blurts out awkwardly. She knows it wasn’t something he would have wanted to see. Her, with his longtime frenemy. “I didn’t know he was going to do what he did. It was a mistake.”
He grimaces. “It’s not like you told him no,” Nick says with an unfriendly glimmer in his eye.
She senses that’s not really what he wants to say. He wants to talk about her absence from his life. He wants to talk about what they had.
“It’s different with Dieter.” She laughs a short, bitter sound. “You and I don’t have a good record with the word ‘no’, do we? You like when I tell you no. Or, at least you used to.”
“I still do,” Nick replies quietly. “I’d prove it to you. If you’d stop pushing me away.”
His words pull at her heartstrings, plucking away at their sorrowful expanse. To hear him honestly admit that he still wants to be with her is…intoxicating on so many levels. The feeling is so intense that Kara doesn’t know how to respond. Does she tell him that she feels the same, that she still wants him, too?
The waitress stops by with their drinks and takes their orders, looking between them with a curious gaze, likely feeling the tension.
When the waitress leaves them once again, Kara gives Nick a seeking look. “Are you aware that Claire reached out to me?”
He coughs into his hand, as if trying to hide his reaction. He looks away from her briefly. “Yes. I gave her your number so she could call you.”
What planet does he live on?
“You did what? Nick! Nobody gives their side chick’s number to their fiancée!” It’s so absurd that it’s laughable.
A scowl takes over his features as he tries to keep his tone in check. He leans back in his seat, his shirt pulling at his broad shoulders enticingly. “You wouldn’t talk to me. She wanted to give you a go, so I figured, why not? It’s not like Claire doesn’t know about us.”
Disbelief is at war with the old wound in her chest. Shaking her head, feeling a hurt ache, Kara says flatly, “There is no us.”
“There was ,” he snaps, eyes blazing with that certain hostility that causes sparks to burn between them. “There still can be.”
Pointing at him with one finger, Kara has to grit her teeth together to keep from raising her voice inappropriately in public. There are other couples and families seated in the vicinity. “You told me we weren’t anything . That it meant nothing . That what we had would never be a thing . No strings attached.”
As always, he kept her at a distance, the same as she kept him at bay, until feelings caught her unaware.
He damn near rolls his eyes out of his skull. “Well, I fucking lied.” A hint of that sharp sneer shapes his lips. It’s a stinging pain within her, this want to press her lips to his and draw blood.
How dare he? After all the emotional shit he dragged her through? From the first night they met - which she barely recalls - to their consensual non-consent fantasies, played out in various ways. To making her want him, like him , all the way to him slime-balling his way to victory in court and then having a damn fiancée on top of it all-
But oh . He wants them to be something after all?
Kara’s face hardens and she bares her teeth. “You lied? That’s what you’re going with? You fucking knob. You’re unbelievable . You played with me, like a stupid toy. You made me feel like a fool, Nick.”
“I didn’t think…” he works his jaw roughly, looking like his words are cutting his tongue on the way out. “…that it was going to go where it did. I thought it was going to be a thing we did a few times and then moved on. You would have never found out, never gotten hurt. Only, we never moved on. And you got hurt.”
At least he acknowledges that fact; that he cut her deep.
It’s a small comfort to know he felt something for her, that he was incapable of giving her up even though he initially intended to. “I’m sure you would have hurt me one way or another,” Kara replies with a sad grin. “That’s how you are.” That’s why I’m drawn to you. A familiar pain.
Making a frustrated noise, Nick runs a hand through his hair, those rich brown locks shifting with his touch. “What do you want me to say, Kara?” There’s something almost vulnerable in his gaze. “Something stupid and sappy? That you understand a part of me that no one else ever can? That I felt like I could be myself with you, instead of keeping it all locked away?”
The conversation feels futile. He can tell her all he wants about how he still wants her, how he feels with her, but it will never change one big problem. She sags miserably in her seat. “I wish I could go back to you, but I can’t . I am not going to destroy my morals on the matter of marital fidelity and-”
“A non-issue. Claire is alright with it,” Nick tells her bluntly, as if that fixes the problem. “She wants you to stay with me. All she cares about is discretion.”
Oh, that just about fixes it then, does it? Ha.
“But I’m not alright with it.” Her voice wavers and she has to blink the burn out of her eyes. “My…my father was not faithful to my mother. He hurt her, and it hurt me . I don’t want to be that person. I can’t ever be that person. Please don’t ask me to be.”
He swallows thickly as he looks at her, staring into her eyes. Quiet for a moment. “I didn’t…I didn’t realize why that was such a sore spot for you.” He reaches over the table unexpectedly and touches her hand, trying to stop the shaking. “But you realize, all parties in this case are aware. Claire wants you to be with me. I want you to be with me. You’re…you’re the only one not on board.”
“Don’t you love her?” Her voice sounds hollow and weak.
“ Claire? ” He sounds scandalized. “If I had a sister, it would be her.”
A part of her feels poorly for Claire, but she knows Claire has admitted to her own entertainment.
“Your arranged marriage is barbaric.” Kara sniffs and rubs her face on her shoulder. “Don’t you understand how sad this is? That you won’t call off a loveless engagement? All for what? Money, power, and status?” She peers into his eyes, wanting to shake sense into him. “ Why are you and Claire torturing yourselves like this? Why do you want to doom yourselves to unhappiness?”
“My mother-”
“Your mother must be one hell of a woman to make you agree to that sort of life,” Kara says harshly. “A normal mother would want you to be happy with a woman of your choosing. Why can’t you just refuse?”
“I’m where I am today because of my mother,” Nick says with an edge. “It would be disappointing for her if I ruined the chance for these two families to combine.”
“So, she owns you? Because she made you successful in life? Is that it?” Kara scoffs. “ Nick .”
His face darkens; this is one of those strange subjects that makes him unpleasant. “You know nothing about my mother.”
“Of course not. You don’t share anything personal with me.” A barb that Kara can’t hold back.
This makes him look away sharply, his throat working. For a moment, he says nothing, and neither does she. They sit in discomfort until he finally says, “There are some things about me that aren’t worth knowing, Kara.”
How can he say that, when Kara knows some of the darkest parts of him? What could possibly be worse than him enjoying nonconsensual fantasies?
Who knows, Kara? It could be torture . The thought is ugly and she pushes it away.
“You never told me why you were a member of the Dark Mirage ,” Kara says suddenly, the slimy thoughts wiggling in her brain with rot.
“I never told you a lot of things,” he replies with something like exhausted acceptance. “And you know why I was a member.” There’s a pained expression on his face, something that comes close to shame. It’s almost an unfamiliar look on him and Kara doesn’t like seeing it. “It was one of the places I was able to get my needs met, instead of picking up working girls off the street.”
Kara bites her lower lip and tries not to feel repulsed. Part of her is disgusted just on principle. Another part wants to shake him and demand he tell her what made him like this, what trauma lurks in his locked-tight skull?
Another sliver of her soul is afraid that if she looks too deep, she’ll find something truly terrifying.
“Things changed when I met you. When I started seeing you.” Nick’s voice is barely an utterance. “And I hate that I took you for granted, because I think we…we had something that I know I’ll never find in someone else. I don’t like that I treated you the way I did.”
“Is that an apology?” Kara finds herself asking.
“Don’t push it. You know I’m not one to apologize.” No, he’d rather pay his way out of anything. “Can we start again?”
“I haven’t decided.” Kara is not forgetting about Claire. That’s just not happening.
He opens his mouth to retort, his eyes flashing with displeasure, but their waitress returns with their food, setting it out before them, effectively cutting off their conversation.
It opens the door for Kara to switch the conversation entirely, to safer things.
They finish up their lunch, making idle chit chat between them. She’s nearly paid off her loans with what she’s been making working for Dieter; Nick’s had his kitchen redone. He’s won two defenses; Kara lost her job at Benson’s firm.
“Are you seeing him?” An edge of vulnerability is hidden in his tone. Kara knows exactly who he’s asking about.
In her mind, she can see Dieter’s handsome features, the cunning glitter of his pale green eyes, the halo of his hair. Fickle and out of reach, yet close enough to touch on a whim. Never close enough to truly trust . “I’m not, Nick.”
His expression doesn’t change. “But you want to.”
The question strikes like a hammer, right in the center of her chest. The truth it reveals is ugly and divisive. “I don’t know what I want,” Kara mutters in reply. “He’s-”
“Not a good man.” Nick stands up after paying the bill. Kara had tried to split with him, but he refused the gesture. “If you think I’m a monster, I can’t even tell you what that makes him.”
Kara gives him a wane smile as she walks out of the restaurant with him. “An Eldritch Terror?”
He snorts. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Jokes aside, what is your beef with him?” Kara presses her chance.
He shakes his head. “The version you see of Dieter is not what lies underneath.” No further elaboration. “And once you know, it isn’t something you can unsee.”
That is fucking creepy. “I think you just hate him and his pretty face,” Kara drawls in reply, trying to erase the feeling his words give her.
They come to a halt at the corner where they’ll part ways. He stands over her, such a physical wall of strength beside her petite frame. He holds out his hand. “I propose a truce between us. You stop ignoring me. We become cordial acquaintances.”
Kara narrows her eyes at him. “And what exactly is that getting you?” He wouldn’t ask for this for no small reason.
Nick’s mouth quirks. “It gives me a chance to change your mind about our former arrangement.”
“What if I change your mind?” Kara challenges as she shakes his hand. “What if this sad little associate makes you abandon your mummy's wishes? What if I convince you to drop your sorry miserable engagement?”
He smirks a bit, as if she’s said something utterly impossible to achieve.
“We’ll see, won’t we?” Nick replies, looking down at her, eyes the prettiest of blues. She can feel his gaze echo low in her stomach, pulling behind her navel, heat throbbing there. “Can I kiss you?”
She chokes, because that isn’t what acquaintances do. “No-”
He leans down and presses his mouth to hers, warm and sudden, his large hand on the back of her head, pressing her to him. Kara barely registers that it’s happening, her mouth opening under his, the eagerness of his tongue against hers-
Oh, the liquid heat and the way it blooms into being between her thighs. An aching want, so stinging in its need. Familiar and dark, a siren song of greedy desire. His thigh indecently presses between her legs, rubbing against her core just so.
A swift ringing of need swells there, wanting to be fed.
Kara groans into his mouth even as she determines to push him away. Oh, she’s missed the feel of him-
Nick pulls away, leaving her on shaky legs. His words are a husky whisper as he says, “See you again?” He waves with a smug expression on his face as he starts walking towards his car.
Face red, outraged and aroused, Kara scowls at his back and calls after him, “Excuse me. I said no, you barbarian!”
He looks over his shoulder and grins sharply at her, making her heart flutter. “I know.”
Trouble.