He placed one hand on his hip while running his other through his hair. He puffed out a breath, and looked me up and down, and again, his nose crinkled. “Yes. Yes, I think I am.”
“You think you are?” I muttered, bewildered, but held up a quick hand when he opened his mouth. “Never mind, but I do want to clarify something.” I stared, wondering if he understood just how crazy this was and trying to find a way to figure that out. “Just the other morning you threatened to kill me. In many ways. You frightened me worse than I had ever been. You did this after we’d just had sex the night before. Now, you want to have sex again. With me. The one you shouted at, and threatened to strangle, slice, and smother.”
His mouth slowly opened. No sound escaped. He blinked.
Ding, ding. About damn time, he figured out how insane this was.
I shook my head and started marching away. He was one truly twisted individual. It was obvious that he had not even realized that his actions were wrong the other morning. That had just been him, doing his thing. One of the truly sad parts was that he had acted as though he was doing me a favor as he talked so pathetically about my body, like I would jump the man as soon as he said the words.
Crazy old asshole.
I heard the crunching of grass again, and I sped up. This was getting fucking ridiculous. I had gone from being scared shitless of him – I still kind of was – to trying to outrun an interested suitor. I had no idea how the fuck this had happened.
“I’m not interested, Daniil,” I said over my shoulder, seeing him gaining. I scowled at his muscular legs. They were fucking long. I peered back where I was walking and quickened my pace even more. “I’m sure you can find someone else to fill your bed.”
“Yes, I can,” he stated factually, his voice too close.
Confident, crazy old asshole.
He gripped one of my elbows from behind, jerking me around to face him. I winced as he crushed my arm. He quickly released me, scowling when I instantly started rubbing it. “You’re so fucking bitty.”
“You. Already. Said. That!” I exclaimed, throwing my hands in the air, grateful that we had made our way to a clearing where no one was. “I’m small. I’m short. My tits are smallish average.” I pointed in the air, clarifying. “Though, I have a nice ass.” I pointed at my head. “I have crazy hair. My face reminds you of a doll.” I waved my hands up and down my frame. “And yes, my body is definitely breakable compared to yours. We have covered all of this. Now leave me alone.”
I turned to leave, and he jerked me back in place, much more gently this time. “We aren’t through.” He kept a grip on my arm even though I repeatedly tried pulling it away. “I need to say something so quit running from me.”
I gritted my teeth and breathed deeply. “Speak.” Then leave me the hell alone.
He dropped my arm and glared. “I’m not a damn dog.”
I scowled right back, crossing my arms. Waiting.
He began pacing, muttering, “You’re very aggravating.” His eyes darted to me. “I’m only going to say this once, so listen closely.” I waited, drumming my fingers against my arm in irritation. “You’re a reporter, one who has it out for my son’s company and the person, people, he loves. I couldn’t tell you a damn thing about the circumstances that are happening here. And I still won’t. I’m not sorry for what I said that morning. The timing could have been better though.”
I eyed him as he stopped pacing. It just bubbled out. “You’re crazy.”
He looked exasperated. “I told you to listen closely.” His head tilted. “And yes, I am a little crazy. Most women find it an attractive attribute.”
Only the cracked would say that.
He stared.
I started to turn; until I realized he had said something before that last bit. He had said ‘listen closely’. I halted with one foot turned away, goody-bag dangling from my crossed arms.
What had he said?
I stared at the grass that was evergreen in color, only lit by the moon.
My excellent memory began replaying his words.
I was a reporter.
I had it out in ‘general’ for Grigori’s company…and the person he loves.
Circumstances going on here.
He would not take his words back.
Read between the lines. Listen closely.
He had threatened me because his son loved Ember, and he would do anything to protect his son, and Ember evidently, which included scaring, not actually harming me because I was the big bad reporter that had it out for them.
My God.
I stood stumped for a full minute until a thought occurred, and I turned back to face him where he stood silently, watching me. “What would you do if I ran an article stating that Grigori and Ember were having a love affair behind Brent’s and Cole’s backs?”
He rubbed his chest, staring at the sky, the moon kissing his face, making him look like death’s angel. Slowly, he stated, “I would demand a retraction because it’s not true.” Right now. He did not say the words, but I heard them nonetheless.
“What if it became true?” I asked slowly. “What would you do then?”
“I would buy the first paper and frame it,” he murmured softly. “As long as the timing was right.”
I stared hard. “What if I had talked about what I heard that morning?”
He shook his head. “I take care of my lovers. I made sure you didn’t talk.”
I understood what he was saying, but still… “You’re crazy.”
He shrugged. “It works for me.”
I let my arms dangle by my sides. “When were you first interested in me?” I was still confused as hell.
“The first day when you bumped into me you smelled like roses. I wasn’t sure who you were at first, but you looked familiar. From your tiny picture in the paper, I later realized. I asked Stash. When I pointed you out to him, that’s when we saw you slip under the bleachers. I was furious then. And if I’m going to be honest, it helped because I was a little confused by my attraction to you.”
I blinked, and mumbled stupidly, “You smelled like roses, too. It’s the resorts soap and shampoo.” He did not say anything, and I cleared by throat, the dumb cobweb disappearing. “Why did you come into the bar that night?”
“To question you; I wanted to know what you were investigating.” He cocked his head forward, his hair hanging around his face as he eyed me. “Why do you want to run a story about Ember cheating on Brent and Cole?”