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The pounding continued.
If only I hadn’t already put on makeup and gotten dressed, I could convince him I was sick. I started to wrap the bathrobe around myself and even reached for a tissue to smear my cherry red lip gloss away to look more pale, when he called out again.
“Theresa, we’ve got lunch reservations, remember? And then we’re going shopping. You’re not still in bed are you?”
Frustration welled up in me, choking my resolve to fake an illness. Still being in bed at this time of day and him thinking I was were two different things. My pride made me toss the robe aside and head for the door. My feet were like lead crossing the room, and my arms hung heavily at my sides, every part of me wishing he’d go away.
Forcing a smile, which I’m sure looked more like a grimace, I swung it open. “Hello, Donny.”
He had on a navy blue jacket with some kind of intricate gold insignia on the breast pocket over a pale blue shirt with far too many buttons undone and crisp white pants with boat shoes. He looked like a TV extra who was told to dress for a day at a country club in the 1980s. My mother stood behind him in an even more over the top outfit, an electric blue sundress with puffy sleeves, a tightly cinched waist, and elaborate peplum to show off the curves she still ruthlessly maintained.
“Come on,” Donny said impatiently, his whining tone contrasting sharply with the deep, commanding voice of the man in my daydream.
I blinked away tears before either of them noticed, bitterly reminding myself for at least the hundredth time to stop comparing my forced fiancé to Aleksei. Of course Donny was only going to come up short, and it wasn’t helping to get Aleksei out of my system. No, he was in there deep and refused to leave. My frustration this time was mostly with myself. I was trying so hard to make the best of my situation and utterly failing. And I didn’t do failure well.
I was good at what I loved—painting—and thanks to my mother’s intense greed, I was allowed to hone my skills by copying some of the world’s best artists. I traveled the world, another thing I loved, and when I was out on my own, I could do what I wanted as long as I sold what I’d been sent to sell. That was yet another thing I excelled at. With my knowledge about the paintings, whether or not they were real, and my ability to charm any hapless buyer, I could sell anything. I was used to being good at things and being able to adapt to any circumstance.
I sucked at getting over Aleksei and was even worse at adapting to my new situation. Every time I thought I had a handle on my feelings, Donny did something annoying, something so unlike Aleksei, and the whole house of cards came tumbling down around me. As usual, my mother either didn’t notice how unhappy I was, or more likely, didn’t care. I caught her eye behind Donny, and she swept me from my freshly curled hair down to my white leather sandals.
She sighed, as impatient as Donny. “Sweetie, hurry up and get dressed. You knew we had a reservation. You should have been ready.”
I smoothed my hand over my blue and white polka dotted tank top and jeans. I thought I looked fine, and I’d fit in much better with the locals than those two in their outlandish tourist getups. And we color coordinated, kind of. Her jab at my appearance was the straw that broke the camel’s back, and if she really thought I wasn’t ready, I could use it to my advantage.
I pressed my hand to my forehead. “I’ve had a headache all morning.”
“Take some Tylenol,” Donny said. “We’re going ring shopping after lunch. You don’t want to miss that, do you?” He waggled his dark eyebrows as if the thought of a big diamond would fix everything.
The thought of wearing a ring that signified I was tied to him for the rest of my life made a real headache bloom behind my eyes and I pressed harder. “I think it’s a migraine. I actually feel a little nauseated,” I said. “Go on and have a good time without me. You can even pick the ring on your own if you want. I don’t mind being surprised.”
“I do have amazing taste,” Donny said, clearly not caring if I went with them or not.
My mother glared at me. “We’ll reschedule the jeweler,” she said coldly.
Donny whipped around as if she’d suggested walking into the middle of a busy intersection. “We can still go. We’ll just pick out some goodies for ourselves.” He turned back to me with an empty smile. “I’ll bring you back something nice to cheer you up.”
“Thanks, Donny.” At my mother’s persistent scowl, I added, “That’s sweet of you.”
He leaned over and kissed my cheek. Instead of making my blood race through my veins and heat me up, it gave me a forbidding chill. Eventually, he’d want to kiss more than just my cheek and I was honestly afraid it would kill me.
“Take something for your head,” he reminded me, probably never once considering running down to the hotel shop to get it for me.
Wasn’t that something a caring husband-to-be would do? I almost laughed thinking my mother might ever consider it. When I was younger and got sick, my care was delegated to a housekeeper. Hell, they took care of me when I wasn’t sick, too. It might have been nice if it was the same one throughout my life, someone who grew to love me like I was their own and that I could share my problems with. But nobody could work for my mom for long, and despite trying their best, never lasted much more than a few months at a time. She was too harsh and demanding. The people in our organization who were loyal to her, were that way out of fear or greed, because if you stayed on her good side, she could be quite generous. The problem was staying on her good side. I could barely manage it, and I was her only child.
As soon as they got in the elevator, I shut myself back in my room, sinking to the floor in a puddle of self-pity. Another thing I wasn’t used to and hated. In hindsight, having a passionate one night stand had been the worst possible idea. I mean, it barely mattered now that I was so consumed by Aleksei’s touch that no amount of reasoning could have stopped me, but the aftermath surely did hurt. It would have been far better to never know the touch of a man that made me crave him night and day. Especially since I couldn’t have him again.
“You have to try harder.” I got up and stormed back and forth, willing myself to find Donny as attractive and vital as I did Aleksei.
Donny was handsome, rich, not actually unkind to me, although I had a good feeling if I so much as mentioned a headache to Aleksei, even if he wasn’t mine, he’d offer to get me some damn Tylenol. No, he wouldn’t offer, he’d just do it. And pour me a glass of water as well. But things like that could be trained. If I had asked, surely Donny would have done it. Wouldn’t he? Maybe with a sigh, maybe begrudgingly, but I could overlook his bad attitude and pretend he was doing it out of devotion, couldn’t I?
Couldn’t I?
No, I couldn’t. And time wasn’t going to make things better, either. I wasn’t going to forget about Aleksei and the fact that Donny’s mere presence made my skin crawl, had me sobbing into my hands. Damn it, now I was crying over a man.
I choked back the tears that refused to stop and were for so much more than just missing the feel of Aleksei’s strong, sure hands on my skin, the rising tension, the way he made me scream with abandon, not caring at all who heard. Unless I found it in myself to become a cheater, I’d never feel that way again. It was likely that Donny wouldn’t care if I strayed, and it was even more likely he’d cheat on me regularly. I didn’t care at all what he did, but I didn’t like the idea of sneaking around. What if I fell in love again and still had to go home to Donny every night?
I stopped in my frantic pacing. “Oh my God, you idiot, you aren’t in love with Aleksei!”
But I also wasn’t in love with Donny, and I was going to be married to him. There was no getting out of it. Was there?
