7. Deadly Misunderstandings
Chapter seven
Deadly Misunderstandings
Julian
“ O uch.” Nicolette’s cry of pain drowned out every sound in my office as she crossed the private executive suite’s anteroom, including my assistant Simone’s rich alto voice as she went over my schedule for the week.
“Simone,” I interrupted her from across my desk. “We’ll have to do this later. My wife is here to see me.”
Simone gave me a knowing look. It didn’t surprise her that I knew Nicolette was outside the door. She’d probably heard her as soon as she’d gotten off the elevator.
“No problem.” She stood, clutching her tablet. When she adjusted her short silk skirt that left little to anyone’s imagination, I realized I probably should have mentioned to Nicolette that I’d hired a new assistant—one more versed in dealing with non-humans.
It had been a long time since I had been in any sort of romantic relationship, and I’d forgotten the intricacies of it. Although my relationship with Nicolette was more professional in nature, I couldn’t help but see her as more, as much as she would abhor the thought.
I rose from my chair and watched as Simone walked her long legs toward the door before opening it.
Sure enough, Nicolette waited on the other side, carrying a large bouquet of red roses.
How odd that she would bring me flowers , I thought.
But that thought left when Nicolette’s eyes raged as she gaped at Simone.
Damn it.
Her eyes darted between us, already weaving a false narrative in that gorgeous head of hers.
“Who are you?” Nicolette demanded. Her voice and body shook uncontrollably as she took in the Italian beauty. Simone’s olive skin glowed under the office lights, her dark hair falling in sleek waves that framed her sculpted cheekbones.
But while Simone was undeniably beautiful, Nicolette needn’t have worried nor sized herself up against her. I’d harbored nothing more than platonic feelings for Simone, especially considering she and Cyrus had once been an item. And Nicolette’s classic, understated beauty was more to my liking.
Simone, either oblivious or unfazed by Nicolette’s fury, smiled politely. “Simone Xavier. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Rossi. Your mother was brilliant,” she gushed. “Grace Hart changed so many lives. Mine included.”
I rushed forward across the expansive office before my bride lost it. Judging by her crimson cheeks and the trembling bouquet in her hands, she was seconds away from a full matrimonial meltdown.
“Darling, what a surprise. Simone is my new assistant.”
“What happened to Miss Purdy?” Nicolette’s tone was cutting and skeptical.
I supposed I could hardly fault her suspicion, though if she thought there was anything untoward between Simone and me, she was mistaken. “She retired.”
Forced retirement, though I didn’t think it prudent to mention that. The older woman, though competent, had not kept up with modern technology, and I needed someone who could manage both the work and the complexities of dealing with my kind. And Simone had a medical background.
“Right.” Nicolette’s voice carried the edge of someone at her tipping point.
“Please, darling, come in.” I begged her with my eyes to wait until we were alone to unleash her impending diatribe.
She marched past Simone, hobbling on the swollen ankle she stubbornly refused to rest, her chin lifted in defiance.
Simone left us and shut the door behind her. Nicolette went to open her mouth, but I placed a finger on her lips and shook my head. “Wait,” I mouthed before taking her hand and guiding her across the office.
Hart had spared no expense. The suite was composed of polished mahogany and leather, and the floor-to-ceiling windows offered a picturesque view of the courtyard. Even the air smelled curated—aged paper, faint cologne, and wealth.
I pulled her into the adjoining bathroom. The space was a sanctuary of marble and gold. The counter gleamed under recessed lighting, and the rainfall shower stood ready to accommodate. If only Nicolette were amenable.
Once behind the door, I lifted Nicolette easily and set her on the marble counter. She needed to stay off that foot.
“What are you doing?” she complained.
“Shh,” I murmured, turning on the fan and the shower. The sound filled the room, a veil to cloak our words.
Nicolette watched me carefully, bewilderment and fear seeming to wash over her as she clung to the flowers.
I approached her carefully, not only afraid of how she would respond, but more afraid of how much I longed to make her mine.
Her curls fell like silk ribbons, her delicate scent filling my senses.
Slowly, I straddled her legs where they dangled from the marble counter, pressing my hands to either side of her.
Our faces hovered mere inches apart. It took every ounce of willpower not to claim her lips, not to let my hands wander over every part of her.
She stopped breathing, eyes closed, bracing herself.
“If we whisper, no one should overhear us,” I murmured, my gaze fixed on her supple pink lips, which called to me.
“Are you going to kill me now?” she breathed, her voice trembling.
“Bloody hell.” My restraint faltered, my voice rising despite myself. “What are you talking about?”
Her eyes snapped open as she shoved the flowers at me. “You know what I’m talking about. The flowers and the threatening note you sent with them.”
I took the bouquet, examining it with deliberate care. “I assure you I did not send you flowers.” Though perhaps I should have. She was my new bride.
“You’re such a liar. Now that you have my company and your mistress in place, what good am I to you anymore?”
“I have never lied to you, and I most certainly do not keep a mistress.” I plucked the card from among the roses, my worst fears crystallizing as I read it.
It was inevitable someone would go after Nicolette, but this—this was a game I hadn’t anticipated.
A deadly one. I crushed the note in my hand, sickened by it.
“You lied to me from the day I met you. You made me believe you were someone you weren’t. Someone who cared about me. And I’m not stupid. I don’t believe for one second that Simone, Miss Legs for Days, is just your assistant. I’m sure she’s assisting you, all right. Right out of your pants.”
Though there was nothing remotely comical about the situation, I pressed my lips together to hide the smile tugging at them. Her fire was exquisite. If only I could let it consume me.
I set the crumpled note and flowers on the marble counter beside her. The roses gleamed like splattered blood. Someone had marked her, and I would have to hunt the murderous bastard down and kill him or her. But first, I needed to clear up a few things with my wife.
I took her hands and pressed them against my chest, reveling in their warmth.
“Please stay away,” she begged, barely able to speak, her fingers gripping my shirt. “I don’t want to want you. I hate you. So much.”
Though that pained me, I understood. “Breathe, Nicolette. I won’t let you do anything you don’t want to do. Just breathe.” I couldn’t let her go for fear of her bolting out the door and into a dangerous situation.
Her fingers dug in as if she couldn’t help herself. No one had ever reacted to me the way she did. “People are going to think we’re in here making love.”
“Probably. We’re newlyweds, after all.”
“It’s unprofessional.”
“Your parents worked together for years. Do you truly believe they never indulged in this office?”
Her eyes widened, as if the thought had never occurred to her. “I don’t want people thinking of me like that.”
“No one will think ill of you.”
“They will, because they’ll think I’m naive and stupid—because you’re sleeping with Simone and who knows who else.”
“Listen to me.” My voice dropped. “I am not sleeping with Simone, nor anyone else. I vowed fidelity to you before God. Those are vows I intend to keep.”
“Pardon me if I don’t believe you. You said you were going to kill me.”
“I never said that.”
She rolled her eyes. “You told me if I didn’t marry you, you would kill me. You don’t need me anymore. I’m expendable goods now.”
She was wrong. I did need her, but I couldn’t tell her why.
At least not yet. “I never said I would kill you, Nicolette. I said you would be killed if you refused me. Whether you like it or not, your mother’s discovery and the fact that you continue her work put you in grave danger.
I threatened you because I knew you wouldn’t listen to me or believe me otherwise.
You have unsettled an ancient world that is not used to being disrupted.
The note you got today proves me right.”
“How do I know you didn’t send it? Whoever did saw me today and knew I was wearing blue. They want to see me blue—as in dead,” she cried.
The thought of someone watching her enraged me. Whoever it was, they were bold—and they clearly didn’t know the Rossis or what we were capable of.
“Nicolette, I swear to you, it wasn’t me. I haven’t seen you since this morning when I left you on the terrace. I had no idea what you were wearing today. And I would never send you red roses when I know white roses are your favorite.”
She blinked, startled. “How do you know that?”
“Don’t you remember? When we walked through your mother’s rose garden and spoke of the French Revolution. You told me then.”
“I don’t want to remember that.”
“Why?”
“Because all those times with you were a lie.”
“It wasn’t a lie. I very much enjoyed our time together.” More than I should have. I even missed it.
“It was a lie. I thought you had feelings for me, but you just wanted to use me—to get to my company and the plasma treatment.”