Part 12 (2/2)
”If it's such a turnoff, maybe you should back the f.u.c.k off.”
Robert Dade bursts into laughter. It's an easy laugh with just a touch of opulence. It softens my edges and makes me want to step toward him rather than away.
”Like I said, I would. But the thing is,” and with this it's he who takes a step forward, ”the woman who you really are . . . the one who you keep so tightly under wraps, the woman who is only allowed out when she is touched a certain way, made to feel certain things . . . that woman is so d.a.m.n compelling . . . I can't seem to turn away.”
Turn around and leave. Tell him that the engagement has been announced.
But I don't say a word. My voice was carried off with the wind.
”I want that woman,” he says again, taking another step. ”And not just in the bedroom. I want to know what she's like over a candlelight dinner. I want to see her on the beach. I want to know what it would feel like to walk beside her talking about the thoughts you never let her share.”
”I'm getting married.”
”To a man you don't love.”
”He's the man I want.”
”What a seductive little liar you are.”
I lift my chin and strike him with a defiant glare. A flash of respect . . . I see it in his eyes . . . but then maybe it's always there. Respect for me in those hazel eyes of his . . . but then it's not for me. It's for this woman he thinks I'm hiding from him. A woman I don't want to be.
”I want Dave Beasley.”
”Do you?” His voice is gentle now but it's impossible to miss the hint of sarcasm. ”What exactly do you want him to do to you?”
”Don't be crude.”
”Do you want him to keep you in line?”
I don't answer. Robert is very close now. If he takes one more step forward, we'll be touching.
But he doesn't. Instead he circles me the same way he did in that Venetian hotel room.
”Do you want him to suppress your true nature? Keep you on the leash you made for yourself?”
”Shut up.” My whispered tone contradicts the meaning of the words. I feel him behind me although he still isn't touching me.
”Do you want him to confine you? Are you afraid you won't be able to do that job all by yourself?”
His breath tickles my ear as he moves to my right. I wait for him to complete the circle but he doesn't. He just stands there at my side, facing me. If I lean in, just a little, the top of my head will touch his chin. My shoulder will touch his chest; my hand, his thigh.
I continue to stare straight ahead, thankful for my dark gla.s.ses. They mute the colors that are just a little too bright today.
”Look at my hand,” I say quietly.
He pauses, perplexed by what seems like an odd request. But then he sees it, lifts it up so the light hits it just so.
”He bought me a ruby,” I say as he studies the stone. ”Not a diamond ring, a ruby.”
”Whose idea was that?”
Again I don't answer.
”It was yours.” He says the words with the tone of pleasant surprise. And now he does reach out. He moves my hair away from my face. I don't turn to look at him.
”You let the woman you're trying to destroy pick your ring.”
”This isn't Sybil. There is only one me.”
”Oh I know . . . and it's you, the only true you, that I want. Not the facade who smiles sweetly and pretends that she's some white rose . . . delicate, bland, weak.”
”Did you call me here for a business meeting, Mr. Dade?”
”I want to tear that facade away.” He lifts his hands and clutches at the air around my body as if he could literally pull away some invisible force field. ”I want to throw it in the ocean where you'll never be able to get your hands on it again. I don't want you on that leash, Kasie. I don't want to confine you, I don't want to control you. I want to set you free.”
”Says the man who practically blackmailed me into boarding this boat.”
”Ah, yes. But that's different. For now it seems I have to practically blackmail you to do what you want to do. I want you to do those things on your own. I want you to indulge your desires the way you indulge your ambition.”
”Don't be stupid.”
”If you did, you would be unstoppable.”
”I love him.”
He hesitates. He hadn't seen that coming.
”I love him,” I say, louder this time.
”Ah,” he murmurs. ”That lie is less alluring.”
”You had s.e.x with me.” My voice is even, cold. ”You know my body, you even know how to make it sing . . . but that's just chemistry. Dave knows my past, he knows how I think. . . . You know my body, Mr. Dade. Dave knows me.”
”I doubt that.”
”He knows where I come from.”
”I'm sure. Just as I'm sure he knows where he wants you to go.”
”No. He wants what I want. Not because he's trying to accommodate me but because we really do want the same things. That's what makes us compatible. You're the one pus.h.i.+ng me. What you and I have . . . it's just . . . just . . .”
”Chemistry,” Robert finishes for me.
He steps away, takes a seat on one of his deck chairs. He drinks his wine a little too fast. Is he nervous? It's not an emotion I've ever a.s.sociated with him before.
”Do you know what chemistry is?” he asks.