I nearly recoil at the thought. That’s not me.
I need to pull it together. Maybe I shouldn’t let Donovan off so easily for leaving me in bed alone for a second time, especially after how yesterday morning went down for me.
There. Now that is more like me. I shake the other unease and insecurity away.
His shadow falls over me. I tilt my head to the side to peer up at him, a coolness in my posture that I wasn’t sure I had in me.
He’s dressed in a clean suit, and I hate myself for the wave of weakness that washes over me at the sight of him. The man fills out a suit like I’ve only ever seen actors do.
I can’t read his expression as he looks down at me. He seems… hesitant. I can’t understand why.
My lungs freeze as he begins to lean over as if he’s going to kiss me.
As uncertainty washes through me again, I realize where it’s coming from. I’ve got a closer tether to Donovan. No one else’s emotions mess with me the way his do. I mean to reassure him, but all I can do is stare up into his dark eyes. I don’t dare show how deep this goes for the two of us. It could be seen as a weakness, and I feel like Donovan isn’t allowed to have any kind of cracks in his armor. Not even in the company of the people he probably trusts the most.
“You should have left a note,” I tell him frankly, a hint of playful anger in my eyes. I’m giving him an out without it seeming like I am. Or so I hope.
I take a sip of my coffee and peer up at him from under my lashes. The shock flashes over his face so fast I nearly miss it, but I don’t, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.
Donovan hums, but it sounds closer to an unhappy grunt. I lose his eyes as he straightens. I tell myself I didn’t really want that kiss anyway, even if it’s a big fat lie. He makes a show of pulling the seat to my left out slowly. His focus is on a spot on the table while he reaches for the French press. His brow furrows as he pours the dark liquid into the empty white cup sitting on the saucer in front of him. I’m sure it’s not the coffee that’s causing the crease between his brows to deepen. I want to pat myself on the back in victory because I’ve thrown him off a little.
“You need my approval for what?” Donovan’s voice is deep and laced with a deadly edge, as if he already knows it’s something he won’t like.
“You know what?” Fabien shakily says. “We’re running low on coffee.” He jumps up, reaching for the French press, which is nearly empty now. “I’ll go ask Lucille nicely to make some more.”
He’s gone before either of us can say anything.
Donovan’s dark eyes are on me as if he doesn’t care that Fabien practically fled like a robber running from the scene of the crime.
“He wants to test my abilities,” I say, trying to play it off as all fun and games.
“No,” Donovan says flatly. His face shows not a single hint of emotion, and strangely, I don’t feel anything flowing through me. He’s locked himself up tight. This is interesting.
I gape at him, anger zipping hot through my veins.
“If you’re done being a brat, we can start the morning properly.” He changes the subject abruptly as if he can sense that I’m about to spit fire. He drags his gaze up to mine, and there’s a softness I don’t often see in his dark eyes. I don’t melt, I don’t. But I do put a lid on my anger for the time being. “Good Morning, Astra. I hope you slept well. I do apologize that I left you, but I had a pressing matter come up.”
“Oh,” I say as I nearly deflate to the point I sag back in my seat and wish to become invisible. Well, now I feel bad.
I hate that he justknows. It’s infuriating and annoying. But I can’t deny how I also love the way he calls it out like that. Maybe communication isn’t as hard with him as I’ve been treating it. He’s very forward and blunt. I think it’s time to try a different tactic from now on.
“Is everything alright?” I ask.
This causes him to pause and study me. He’s looking so deeply into my eyes that I think he’s trying to see straight through to my soul.
“Do you really want to hear about it?” he finally asks.
If I say yes, will he really tell me what’s going on? A thrill runs through me at the level of trust that will expose. He’s ruthless and cocky, but he’s not stupid. He doesn’t take his position or his empire for granted. And part of keeping things going wouldn’t be to simply run your mouth and expose your wrongdoings.
If I were a cunning woman, I’d say I have him right where I want him. I could extract information and use it against him.
But I’m not, and I don’t want to get in the middle of whatever fight he has going on with my father. I sure as heck don’t want to get on Donovan’s bad side.
I want his trust, and I want to feel like an equal when I’m with him. Or as close to one as someone can get. I want him to view me as an ally. I want to be that for him.
It’s a scary world, but I’m ready to dive into it. I know it’s dark and very,verymorally gray, and I’m sure that’s putting it lightly. I’m tired of being on the bad end of a spell and under someone’s thumb.
“Yes,” I tell him.
