Chapter 8
“I know we’ve met before, but it’s slipping my mind,” Nick’s glamorous fiancée says in greeting when she approaches Kara. “Where have we met? I’m not in town often these days.”
Why me? Why do these things happen to me? What is she doing here?
Forcing a grin onto her lips, trying to hide how completely uncomfortable she is, Kara says, “ Ah , yeah. We met briefly at the office party for the Calais, Vickers, and Yates law firm a few months back.” Figuring that Claire likely doesn’t recall her name, she adds, “I’m Kara Hayes. I’m here with-”
A lightbulb visibly turns on inside of Claire’s head. Her pale eyes light up and she smiles in recognition. “With Bittinger. That’s right. I remember you.”
God, I hope she doesn’t have a clue that I’d been sleeping with her fiancé for months. The things he did with me…does he do them with her? Does she know what he’s like?
The guilt is suffocating, twisting and turning Kara’s insides. Her father hadn’t been a faithful man and Kara’s disdain for infidelity grew ever darker from seeing his treatment of her mother.
Trying to figure out what else to say to her, Kara tries to keep from shifting anxiously. “You mentioned you aren’t in town often…do you not live here?”
With a manicured hand, Claire gestures vaguely. “Not anymore, but many of my friends are here. I come back to visit when I can, between work.”
Oddly, she doesn’t mention coming back to see Nick.
Claire gestures to the player’s field. “Have you seen him jump? I’ve always found it to be a bit more daring.” Claire fixes the overlarge hat that somehow makes her look elegant. Kara would be swimming under it. This tall, willowy woman would look so nice, standing next to Nick and his pristine appearance. A fitting couple. “He competed quite a bit as a boy.”
Kara distantly knows of all the ways Dieter has and does compete on horseback. But there are a lot of things about him she doesn’t know, and those are the things that keep her wondering. He probably has secret houses and girlfriends in each state for all she knows.
The urge to run away from this woman is so strong that Kara has to work to keep a straight face. She’s drowning, being next to the very woman who has unknowingly caused a lot of pain in Kara’s immediate life. It isn’t even Claire’s fault, but Kara feels gutted. She holds no ill will towards her; instead, she feels terrible about herself.
Guilt feels like chains, tightening around her guts, squeezing them into mush.
Instead of running off to hide like she’d like to do, Kara bears and grins against her mental guilt and anguish. Her smile probably belongs on a serial killer. Forced, unnatural. “No. I’ve never seen him do any showjumping. He leased out The Witch about a month ago, so he doesn’t have a mount for jumping anyway.”
Kara had created the legal paperwork for that rather pricey engagement. She’d been quite proud of herself, actually. Then, she’d been mortified knowing that the lease price for the horse for a year cost about the same as Kara’s purchase price on her car. Insanity!
Claire is giving her an interested look, one lovely dark eyebrow raised. “The Witch?”
Nodding, Kara smiles in memory, thinking of the animal in question. The spicy chestnut mare, sleek and always dancing about on her hooves, snorting like a dragon. She’d seen her on the day the paperwork was done. “His young mare. He doesn’t have the time for her. I think she pushed him around. But, I also think he liked it?” Kara makes a face. He likes a challenge, but not too much of a challenge. “Dieter’s very complicated.”
Dietrich Bittinger is complicated.
A calculated look comes to Claire’s pale gaze and Kara realizes she’s been smiling for real after imparting that little story. She blanks her face, feeling guilty. Claire tosses her black hair behind her shoulder and asks, “How long have you been together?”
Kara chokes on her water, spluttering terribly for a second. Embarrassing . She feels her face heat. “T-together? We aren’t… ah …it isn’t like that. He’s just used to bringing Gale to most things, seeing as she basically runs his life for him.” Kara scoffs a bit at that. “I’ve been working for him for like, a few months? I’m like the Wish version of Gale Clarke.”
Claire is examining her French nails in a very rich bitch sort of way. “I’m not often in town, but when I am, I attend the matches with my friends. I’ve never seen Gale here, to be honest.” Seeing the shaken expression on Kara’s face, Claire gives her a smile that feels too patronizing for Kara’s tastes. “Oh, don’t look so shocked. You’re just special, then. A new friend for him to play with. I mean really ; you aren’t his usual type.”
As in, I’m not a six-foot model that’s always perfectly dressed to the nines, paired with fake tits and pumped-up lips? Yeah, I’m perfectly aware.
Kara isn’t sure if she should be offended or not. Mostly, she isn’t , but a small part of her feels a little snippy about that comment. She shouldn’t care if she’s Dieter’s type. He’s her client . Wanting to shift the tune and dig into one of the secrets she never unraveled about Nick, Kara says, “Speaking of friends, I’m curious. Dieter often spends his time hanging out with your fiancé…and yet, they don’t seem to like each other all that much. A bit odd for proclaimed friends. What’s the deal?”
It’s ballsy, bringing up Nick. In fact, it makes Kara feel slimy. Yet, it seems like the perfect opportunity to creep a bit behind the curtain. Who better to ask than his fiancée?
Finally, Claire’s mask of cool perfection seems to crack a bit. She seems unsettled. “That’s a long story. Frankly, I don’t even know all of it. Our families have known each other for decades; hence this…” She glances at the giant ring on her hand, as if searching for the right word. “…this engagement. Those two though? They were closer years ago when we were kids. Something changed. I don’t know what happened, but I know Nicky has this…distrust of Dieter. He never does say why.” Claire shrugs, dismissive. “Men. Who can say what goes on in their silly brains.”
Nicky. Gag.
The information is curious. They were close, but now they no longer seem to get along? Whatever it was back then to cause a rift between them, it had to be bad, considering Nick is certainly no angel or paragon of morality.
Before she can answer Claire, she notices the riders dismounting from their ponies. Kara nods politely to her, pulling out a cold water bottle from her bag. “I’m going to go check on Dieter before he hops on anything else and kills himself from heatstroke.”
With something sly in her gaze, Claire replies politely, “Lovely to see you again, Kara. We should get lunch sometime; I’m always looking to expand my network of women in business. It’s good to have friends in different verticals.”
Kara tries to not trip over her own feet, hearing those words. It’s almost like she knows that she makes me uncomfortable. Is that possible? Does she know something…?
Trying to shake off the sick feeling Nick’s bride-to-be has given her, Kara goes up to Dieter, watching him take off his helmet, his riding gloves tight on his athletic fingers. A groom leads his pony away for rinsing. Sweat trickles down his forehead from the late afternoon heat and his face is bright red. Kara scoffs in dismay. “Jeez. You are cooking your brain in that helmet! Here . I got you some water, drink it all before you faint.” Kara holds up the food pouch that she has also smuggled in her purse. “This is applesauce, for some fast energy. Eat it.”
Green eyes examine her keenly. “You brought these for me?”
He sounds surprised, like he simply can’t fathom why anyone would try and help him when he’s racing around on a thousand-pound animal in the sweltering heat. Kara feels her mouth work momentarily before she presses the cold water bottle into his hands.
He likes being taken care of.
Feeling silly, Kara says, “Well, yeah.”
There’s a strange softness in his green gaze that nearly makes Kara faint. She flushes, but she’s going to blame that on the heat. “Don’t make such a big deal about it. I just don’t want you to fall on your pretty head.”
“That’s sweet of you,” he replies hoarsely. The plastic crunches loudly as Dieter opens the bottle, downing half of it in a fast swallow. The rest he pours over his head. He groans in delight, shaking it out of his hair. “Fuck it’s hot out, isn’t it?” He must be feeling it, his syllables starting to slur together.
Her mouth feels dry, quite suddenly. Droplets of water travel down his neck and her eyes follow.
By the time the event is over, even Kara is exhausted. Dieter’s team won, so his ego has been fed. They’re walking out to his car when grabs her hand up in his.
Kara feels her heart jump awkwardly, surprised by the invasion of her space so intimately. She tries to pull away. “Why are you holding my hand, boyfriend style? Stop being gross.”
He doesn’t let go. His hand is warm, he feels like he’s burning up. “Just trying to piss off the cougars on the way out. Might keep them away a bit more. Don’t be so prude.”
Tugging on his hand, Kara hisses in outrage, “I don’t want to piss those women off! Remember the first time I came here and they basically tried to lynch me in the restroom?”
He laughs, teeth bright. “I remember. We could hear you screeching in the bathroom all the way out in the aisle with the ponies. What was it you said? ‘ Get off me, woman! I want no part of this! ’ I thought it was funny.”
“Well, I’m glad someone did. I got slapped by a broad two decades older than me.” Kara makes a face, remembering. “She called me a low-class hussy. That was even after I told her she could have you to the moon and back.”
Dieter looks insulted. “What the hell? You’re supposed to fight these old birds to the death and claim me as yours! Their boring husbands are out there trying to brain me with their mallets, you know.”
Finally yanking her hand out of his, she says, “You probably deserve being brained.”
He opens the passenger door to his subtle Mercedes, being a gentleman as she slides inside the sun-warmed car. Dieter doesn’t shut it, looking down at her. Kara gives him a meaningful glance, reaching over to yank the door shut.
Coming around to the driver’s side, Dietrich slinks inside, the scent of his faded cologne, horse, and skin heavy in the air. Without waiting for permission, Kara snaps the air conditioning on.
“What’s put you in such a terrible mood?”
“Claire is here. We spoke.”
A nasty little smirk twists his lips. “The fiancée is a big libido killer for you, yeah? Saint Kara, avoiding Nick in order to defend his fiancée’s honor.” He chuckles, his smirk borderline mean. “She’s a cunt though, you really shouldn’t feel bad. I’m pretty sure they don’t even screw.” Dieter barks out a harsh laugh. “I bet when they do, it’s like two cold fish being rubbed together unsatisfyingly .”
Kara can’t tear her eyes from his throat, at the small bead of sweat trickling down his jugular. He smells like a guy who has been exercising, but not so in a gross way, more so in a way that’s pumping out pheromones and testosterone. Mouth dry, she whispers, “It’s the principle.”
“Saint Kara,” he says again in a playfully mocking tone.
She crosses her arms over her chest. She doesn’t expect him to understand.
He glances down at his wristwatch, biting his lip absently. Kara finds herself watching his mouth and feels herself swallow thickly. She needs to get away from him; she doesn’t like his effect on her. “The train you need to get back downtown isn’t for another hour or so. Why don’t you come to my place and wait it out? I’m not too far from the station.” He blasts her with that panty-wetting grin. “My new chef makes the best short-rib risotto.” Gale took care of that problem at least.
It sounds delicious, but warning bells are going off in her head. There’s a reason that Nicholas thinks she’s screwing Dieter. It’s because Dieter barely has to chase women and they fall at his feet. She’s not entirely certain, but she thinks he’s chasing her just to see what she’ll do. Everything is a game to Dieter. “I’ll pass. But, thanks.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he says, leaving the car parked. “You’ll come over. It’s not like anyone is waiting at home for you.”
That’s a verbal knife if Kara has ever felt one. “Big fat deal, no one is waiting for you either!”
Dietrich is watching her face carefully. He leans closer, into her space with his typical animal magnetism. “What’s the problem?”
Her face feels hot and she can’t meet his eyes. The more time they spend together, the more wrong she feels about herself. Dietrich Bittinger is not a good man. He might not be in love with violence, not like Nick is, but he’s no angel.
He’s involved in things that she doesn’t understand and he has a smile that makes other men nervous in his presence. Kara has long realized that there is a reason for that. Men don’t just fear other men without reason . Hell, Gale wanted her far from him.
But why?
She’s gotten the distinct impression that he’d sleep with her, just to try and get her under his thumb. Just to twist up her emotions and ruin her inside, worse than she already is. “You’re making me uncomfortable, Dieter.”
His hand reaches up to nonchalantly brush the hair away from her sunlit face. His eyes see far too much and glitter with playful teasing. “I’m behaving.”
“You’re not,” she says with little fire, wishing she could push him away from her. “You’re throwing your weight around and I don’t like it. You’re trying to push me when I said I want to go home.”
He has all the power in their relationship and Kara is distinctly aware of it. He could ruin her, very easily, if she were to take the wrong step with him. That makes her nervous. The idea of giving him more power only makes her feel backed into a corner.
And just like that, Dieter’s mouth goes into a thin line, eyes becoming flat. “You’re being outlandish, chickadee. Come home, I’ll have one of the maids fix you a drink to set your nerves at ease, you’re clearly exhausted-”
I don’t trust myself alone with you.
“I don’t want a drink, Dieter.” She says the words a little more forcefully than she meant to. Kara holds her ground. Growls a little, staring him down. “Take me to the station. Now , Dietrich.”
Instead of yelling back at her the way Nick would have, his eyes go suspiciously half-mast as he leans close. Those beautiful eyes travel downwards to glance at her lips before drifting upwards to meet her gaze. Dietrich’s voice takes on that tone that she so rarely hears, the soft and sweetly submissive words spilling from his lips, “Yes, ma’am.”
A hot sort of want trickles inside of her, but Kara ignores it.
Kara’s core clenches hard, hearing the unexpected, sultry and compliant tone drip from his lips like honey. She inhales sharply, noticing the way his pupils dilate before he looks away, putting the car in drive.
She doesn’t like it. She does not .
‘Be careful, friend.’ Gale told her weeks ago. ‘If you’re good at games, just know that he’s better.’