passionate force. “Never— ever— refer to yourself that way again. Do you understand me?”
Trepidation shivered through her, and she nodded slowly.
He leaned in and kissed her, soft and sweet. Forehead resting against hers, he studied her eyes. “It was hardly the first time I disappointed you, sweet. I didn’t see it then, but I was often too busy to do any of the things you loved, and you were frustrated, battling for my attention when an entire city needed me. I told myself time and again, that it was just this one time more and that I would make it up to you, but that night—that night you were done with my choices. You left me to my phone calls and went to change. When you returned, you were dressed in the most provocative of fashions.”
“I tried to seduce you into going with me.” It was a guess, but it sounded like her. Dress her best and strut it out there for him to see and weep.
“Yes, and I was a complete bastard. I forbid you from wearing the outfit out of our home and then asked you to please stop so I could just get the mess cleaned up.” The forlorn note in his voice turned dark. “I was an idiot.”
“I went out that way anyway, didn’t I?”
“Yes.” He gave her a small smile. “Stubborn, sexy and supremely confident, you told me to go to hell and enjoy the heat, because you wouldn’t be there to warm my bed again. You stormed out.”
“And never came back.” Sadness welled up inside of her. Loneliness echoed in his words—loneliness and self-recrimination. She knew herself well enough to know if she had truly been that angry with him, she would have made a spectacle of herself—rubbed his nose in it.
“No. And at first, I thought it was to teach me a lesson, so I was stubborn about looking for you. I was determined that you would come back when you were ready, and I would be there. We would make up, settle our differences and it would be perfect again.”
“But I didn’t come back—” Kiki pulled away and took a drink, rolling the information around in her brain. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“Well, I didn’t think so. But you were angry and very frustrated—rightfully so. I should have looked for you that night.”
“No, that’s not what I mean.” Catching his hand in hers, she lifted his fingers to her lips and kissed them with affection, the gesture both familiar and new. “Maybe I don’t remember being her , your Kristina, but I know me. I know what I would have done if I thought someone was ignoring me. Hell, I know what I do now. I make a huge scene. I dress up, I sneak out and I do everything I’m not supposed to do because I want someone to notice. So, if I was really trying to prove a point to you, I would have made a hell of a scene—one you couldn’t ignore.”
So the question was why hadn’t she done that?
Richard stilled, his expression turning pensive. “Yes. You had done something similar before—in London. I still blame you for that Bram Stoker nonsense.”
Her mouth twitched. “Really?”
“Absolutely. You went out drinking with every would-be writer and playwright in the countryside. You were determined to make headlines everywhere you could until I dragged you back in and took you to the States. London bored you—you wanted an adventure.”
Kiki laughed. “Okay, I want to remember that for sure.”
“You would.” He teased, but a somber note arrested his smile. “Still, you didn’t even arrive at the party you wanted me to go to.”
“Okay, so I was mad. I got dressed up. I wanted to teach you a lesson and make a scene. But I didn’t go to that party. Did I have guards?” It made sense, Richard traveled with them. Wouldn’t she have had her own?
“Yes. But you escaped them, trading vehicles and visiting about two-dozen different dance clubs. They spent the better part of two days trying to hunt you before they told me they didn’t know where you went.” Violence surfaced in his voice, a dark threat, and Kiki
Trepidation shivered through her, and she nodded slowly.
He leaned in and kissed her, soft and sweet. Forehead resting against hers, he studied her eyes. “It was hardly the first time I disappointed you, sweet. I didn’t see it then, but I was often too busy to do any of the things you loved, and you were frustrated, battling for my attention when an entire city needed me. I told myself time and again, that it was just this one time more and that I would make it up to you, but that night—that night you were done with my choices. You left me to my phone calls and went to change. When you returned, you were dressed in the most provocative of fashions.”
“I tried to seduce you into going with me.” It was a guess, but it sounded like her. Dress her best and strut it out there for him to see and weep.
“Yes, and I was a complete bastard. I forbid you from wearing the outfit out of our home and then asked you to please stop so I could just get the mess cleaned up.” The forlorn note in his voice turned dark. “I was an idiot.”
“I went out that way anyway, didn’t I?”
“Yes.” He gave her a small smile. “Stubborn, sexy and supremely confident, you told me to go to hell and enjoy the heat, because you wouldn’t be there to warm my bed again. You stormed out.”
“And never came back.” Sadness welled up inside of her. Loneliness echoed in his words—loneliness and self-recrimination. She knew herself well enough to know if she had truly been that angry with him, she would have made a spectacle of herself—rubbed his nose in it.
“No. And at first, I thought it was to teach me a lesson, so I was stubborn about looking for you. I was determined that you would come back when you were ready, and I would be there. We would make up, settle our differences and it would be perfect again.”
“But I didn’t come back—” Kiki pulled away and took a drink, rolling the information around in her brain. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“Well, I didn’t think so. But you were angry and very frustrated—rightfully so. I should have looked for you that night.”
“No, that’s not what I mean.” Catching his hand in hers, she lifted his fingers to her lips and kissed them with affection, the gesture both familiar and new. “Maybe I don’t remember being her , your Kristina, but I know me. I know what I would have done if I thought someone was ignoring me. Hell, I know what I do now. I make a huge scene. I dress up, I sneak out and I do everything I’m not supposed to do because I want someone to notice. So, if I was really trying to prove a point to you, I would have made a hell of a scene—one you couldn’t ignore.”
So the question was why hadn’t she done that?
Richard stilled, his expression turning pensive. “Yes. You had done something similar before—in London. I still blame you for that Bram Stoker nonsense.”
Her mouth twitched. “Really?”
“Absolutely. You went out drinking with every would-be writer and playwright in the countryside. You were determined to make headlines everywhere you could until I dragged you back in and took you to the States. London bored you—you wanted an adventure.”
Kiki laughed. “Okay, I want to remember that for sure.”
“You would.” He teased, but a somber note arrested his smile. “Still, you didn’t even arrive at the party you wanted me to go to.”
“Okay, so I was mad. I got dressed up. I wanted to teach you a lesson and make a scene. But I didn’t go to that party. Did I have guards?” It made sense, Richard traveled with them. Wouldn’t she have had her own?
“Yes. But you escaped them, trading vehicles and visiting about two-dozen different dance clubs. They spent the better part of two days trying to hunt you before they told me they didn’t know where you went.” Violence surfaced in his voice, a dark threat, and Kiki
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