“He’s a good guy.”
“A little overprotective, maybe.”
He bit his lip. “Did he stop you from having fun?”
“Not exactly, but let’s just say all the dancers from the House of Sin are going to be looking over their shoulders from now on.”
He almost smiled. “Mission accomplished.”
“So youweretrying to stop me from having fun?”
“No. I was just hoping Wade’s presence would discourage anyone from taking advantage of you in that state.”
“And what state was that, exactly?”
“Come on, Dana. There are a lot of bad people out there, ones who wouldn’t think twice about putting something in your drink. Wade knows how to keep an eye out for those people so they never get a chance.”
“I don’t need a bodyguard.”
“I never said you did. I’ve worked in the nightclub scene a long time. I know what goes on, that’s all. I wanted to make sure you and your friends didn’t have any reason to worry.”
“Your concern is touching, but unnecessary.”
“If you say so.”
It grew quiet in the chapel, so quiet Dana was tempted to find an organ and pound out a tune. Something, anything other than having to endure the shocking heaviness between them, the pregnant pauses that seemed to say so much.
“Who hurt you?”
Those three little words hit her with the impact of a speeding Mack truck. She couldn’t have felt a greater wallop fromI love youorDonkeys fascinate me.
“Tommy broke up with you three months ago but you’re still torn up. Something else is wrong.”
“You shouldn’t make assumptions.”
“I agree. Why don’t you fill me in so I don’t have to?”
“There’s nothing to say.”
“Right. The thing is, Dana, the only times I’ve spoken with you, you’ve either been angry or crying in dark corners or sneaking alcoholic drinks. And then there was that time you begged me to fuck you against a bathroom wall. It’s not hard to draw conclusions.”
“Well, you shouldn’t. And I didn’t beg you. You were up for it too.”
“I was. Believe me, I was totally up for it. I’m just concerned you’ve been hurt.”
“People get hurt all the time. They move on.”
“Is that what you’re doing? Moving on? Because I can think of better ways to do it.”
Damn. Her Aunt Gladys had a term for someone like Alex. She called them “onion peelers.” She always said her Uncle Maurice was an onion peeler, that she fell in love with him because he stripped away all her layers. Well, she wasn’t ready or willing to shed any layers for Alex or anyone else, for that matter. If she allowed him to see her sensitive inner core, the weeping heart of her, he wouldn’t like what he saw.
“Dana?”
She swallowed past her raw throat and smiled. “So, grey and lavender for the chapel, huh? It’ll look nice.”
As tempting as it was to flee from his gaze, she returned it. Others might cower before Alex Markov, but she wouldn’t.
He passed a hand over his face. His eyes narrowed and she thought she saw a measure of appreciation in his eyes. Maybe he liked stubbornness.
