To Dance with the Devil

word.

“We need to talk.”

Uh-oh. I knew that tone of voice. “What?” I hadn’t meant to sound quite that suspicious, but there you go. The last time he used those words with that tone, he dumped me. Call me sensitive, but while I’ve forgiven him, I haven’t forgotten.

“I need to know if you’re deliberately insulting me or if you really are that clueless.”

“Excuse me?” I was pissed. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You really don’t know?” His dark eyes were flashing, and I could feel the energy level rise to fill the enclosed space of the car.

“Not a clue.”

“Right.” His sarcastic tone left no doubt that he didn’t believe me. Without another word, he started the engine with a roar and pulled out of the drive, gaze locked on the road ahead. Considering the speed he was driving, it was probably best that he was paying attention.

After several long minutes of silence, I decided to grab the bull by the horns. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

“We’ve been back together for a while now,” he said, with that undercurrent of anger.

I nodded. “Yes.”

“And I think I’ve proved myself useful once or twice.”

“More than useful,” I said honestly. “You’ve been amazing.” He had been, which made this morning’s attitude that much harder for me to comprehend. I am not any easy woman to live with. I know that. But we’d been doing really well. At least I thought we had.

“Then why”—he slammed his palm onto the steering wheel for emphasis—“did you ask Dawna to partner with you instead of me? Why am I hearing that you’ve advertised for a mage for your company? Why haven’t we discussed one damned thing about your plans for the business?”

His face was rigid with barely controlled fury. And while it wasn’t sensible, or even remotely smart for me to get into an argument with him, I was too damned stressed myself to deal with his temper.

“First,” I snapped, “you made it clear that you don’t want to work in the private sector. You want to teach.” I met his gaze, completely unflinching. “Have you changed your mind?”

“No.” He practically spat out the word.

“So forgive me if I took you at your word and made other plans.”

There was a long moment of silence as he thought about that. He still wasn’t happy, but the level of tension in the car ratcheted down significantly.

Bruno gave me a long, level look. “What’s the other reason?” His voice was almost back to normal.

“What other reason?”

“You said ‘First.’”

Shit. I had, and he’d noticed. I closed my eyes. I so didn’t want to do this. “Bruno, I love you. But we’re too much alike to work with each other all the time. It’d be a constant power struggle, and that wouldn’t be good for our relationship or the company. I want my company to be my company.”

He opened his mouth to protest, then closed it, his expression thoughtful.

I continued. “You made the decision to join the university all by yourself, without consulting me or getting my advice. And that’s fine. You get to. But I’m going to be making my own career decisions, including who I’m going ask to be my business partner and who I’ll be hiring. You can’t ask me to butt out of your career and then expect to have input on mine. It’s not fair.”

He gave me a sour look but didn’t argue.

“I love you, Bruno. But you’ve made it very clear that you run your own life, and I can respect that. I expect you to respect me enough to let me run my own life as well. The road goes both ways.”

“And if I can’t, as you say, ‘butt out’?” He spoke quietly, but his face was flushed and he was so tense I could see the sinews in his neck.

“Oh, do not go there. Don’t even,” I snapped. “I have too damned much on my plate right now to play those kinds of games.”

“You think I’m playing games?” His anger was coming back. Unfortunately, my own ire was rising pretty damned quickly. All the stress, the lack of sleep, my grief over losing Ivy—everything combined until I just couldn’t handle it. I rounded on him, completely furious and totally heedless of any possible consequences.

“No, Bruno, I don’t think you’re playing games. I think you’re being a monumental ass. I just lost my sister. I’ve got the family therapy session from hell coming up tomorrow, a woman got abducted right after she didn’t hire me, and all you seem to care about is your wounded pride.”

He hit the brakes hard, then downshifted and pulled off to the side of the road.

“You haven’t told me any of this,” he practically yelled, glaring at me.

“How could I? It’s not like I see you every day, or even get a call, and this shit is not the kind of stuff you send a text about.” I turned to look out the window. I was crying. Damn it! I didn’t want to win the argument by crying.

Long minutes passed in silence. I stared stubbornly out the window. I might not be able to stop my tears, but I could keep from looking at him. He just sat there, his breathing slowly going back to normal. The only time I moved was to blot my eyes, hoping my makeup wasn’t totally ruined.

“Why didn’t you call me? You know I would have come.” His voice was soft, but there was still an edge to it. He was trying to put aside his anger, but it wasn’t gone. Not by a long shot.

“Days ago, I asked you if you could come by. You said no.”

“You never said it was important. If you had, I would’ve dropped what I was doing in a heartbeat.” The look he gave me held so many emotions it was hard to sort them all, exasperation and hurt were probably the dominant ones, but sympathy was in there, too. “You know that, right?”

“I know.” I did know. He has always been good about being there when I need him. I don’t expect him to read my mind … well, not often. “I was going to tell you at brunch.” I hadn’t wanted to fight. I’d wanted him to hold me, to listen to me, to help me heal. That wasn’t likely to happen now, was it?

Bruno sighed and unfastened his seat belt. He scooted toward me as far as the gearshift knob would allow. “Come here.”

I moved to meet him and was rewarded with the hug I needed so badly. His arms were strong, his muscled chest warm. Just the smell of him was comforting. I could feel his heartbeat slowing, his muscles unclenching as his anger faded. He spoke gently, his words not much above a whisper. “I’m sorry about Ivy. Even if it is for the best, it’s going to be strange for you not having her around.”

I nodded against his chest, unable to speak for the lump in my throat.

He sighed. “And you’re probably right. I’m more of a leader than a follower.” He said it grudgingly. “You okay now?”

I nodded again, pulling away a bit. He moved back into his seat and strapped in.

“I probably look like hell,” I said as I rebuckled my own seat belt.

“Sweetheart, you always look beautiful to me.” He meant it, it wasn’t just another line of bullshit. Still, I pulled down the sun visor to check my makeup as he eased back onto the highway. This time he drove like a normal human being.

Neither of us said anything until he parked in the restaurant’s lot. Then he turned to me and said, “I know you need your independence. But I need to be a part of your life. I’m not trying to be controlling, or an ass, but I’m not into being used, either.”

Had I been using him? I didn’t think so. But I might have been taking him for granted, and that was wrong.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been taking you for granted. I don’t think I’ve been using you and I definitely have appreciated it when you’ve jumped in of your own free will. You’ve made all the difference in a couple of really tough spots. But we have to figure out what our boundaries are going to be, because I don’t want to have this fight with you for real instead of just over a miscommunication.”

I opened my door to get out of the car. The minute my shoes hit the pavement, the magical protections that had been spelled into the restaurant and the land around it sent a jolt through me that made me gasp in pain. Whoever had done the wards had put a lot of power in them. No vampire or other monster would be able to come