Grievous (Wanted Men #5) - Nancy Haviland Page 0,83
her on a level so deep there were no words to describe it.
“What is the fairy tale where the girl befriends the mice? Snow White?”
“Cinderella,” she pushed out of her tight throat. What would he be like if he were happy? Devastating, she knew.
“Ah, Cinderella.” His amusement faded. “She was the girl who became a slave in her own home. The girl no one wanted around unless they wanted her to do something for them.”
Hurt nailed her in the heart even though he wasn’t making a direct comparison. Didn’t stop her from wondering if he’d want her around if they could no longer have sex. “The prince wanted her.”
“Of course. Because he saw beneath the outer trappings to the special girl she was on the inside.”
Yasmeen held her breath, the protective wings sheltering her heart unfurling, readying for flight. She nodded.
“Such a cruel thing to make young girls believe. A man will always be drawn to what he first sees. I knew nothing of your personality as I admired your magnificence in that gallery. I was drawn to your perfection.”
A direct hit that had those wing curling back in tighter than ever. “I don’t know what you think you see, but this fucking body of mine isn’t as great as you think.” She stomped on the hurt and welcomed the anger. “Have you seen the cellulite on my thighs? You noticed yet that my right boob is bigger than my left? How ’bout the split ends in my hair and the bags under my eyes? I noticed two new blemishes earlier that popped up because I’m stressed. You notice those? Not so perfect, huh?”
He took her hands and held them out as he swept a long look down her form. The blood didn’t even register, and his appreciation wasn’t feigned. “You are exquisite. Now, come, stop looking for things that aren’t there.”
Her jaw dropped. He really did not see her. She took her hands back. “I gotta change.” Shouldn’t she be happy that he didn’t notice her flaws? Wasn’t that a woman’s dream? She went into the closet and put on a clean nightgown, this one silvery-blue and short. How could she have thought she was reaching him?
She added a robe just for spite and came back out to find him at the door with Sorin. So much for calling Miranda, she thought as she stood for a moment while they rudely excluded her, as they always did, by speaking Romanian.
Fuck it. She ignored them and went to bed. She was exhausted.
She slapped some pillows out of her way and climbed between the sheets. They talked for a long time, and eventually their voices faded and her eyes closed. She was only vaguely aware of the door closing but not enough to know which side of it Lucian was on.
♦ ♦ ♦
Her third full day in Romania was spent entirely alone. She woke to find Lucian’s place next to her undisturbed, though a chair had been pulled over and now sat empty a few feet from her side of the bed. There was a note on it telling her to take some time exploring the castle.
Refusing to see it as being abandoned, she did as he suggested. She went from one side of the monstrosity to the other, studying the art, looking out the windows at the heavily falling snow covering the grounds. She found a mudroom behind the kitchen, and not giving a damn shit, she stole someone’s boots and coat and pushed out the unlocked door.
She wasn’t stupid enough to go very far, but it was nice to get some fresh air. The stables, she saw, were empty, but it was evident horses were in residence because two stalls had fresh food and hay. She was disappointed because the closest she ever got to the gorgeous animals was when they trotted by during the Macy’s Day Parade.
Having woken at seven, it took her until almost eight o’clock in the evening to finish her tour. By then, she was aimlessly wandering the halls, openly talking to herself and flipping off every gargoyle she passed, hoping Lucian was watching on one of his monitors.
She shoved her way into their room, wishing she had the balls to use another, but also not caring because she was too intent on her plan. To have a quick shower and be in bed feigning sleep when he came up thinking to get his hump on.