As he whirled her on the dance floor, he tracked his one eye around the room, letting the feral beast inside him signal a deadly warning to any coyotes and wolves who thought they could nip at his woman and get away with it.
* * *
Beauty and the Beast. Which one is which?
That remark continued to grind against Scarlett’s self-worth because, beneath the anger was hurt and—she winced as she acknowledged it—shame. She was the beast. That’s what she kept thinking. She wasn’t a good person. She had left her mother and siblings to their father’s anger, first escaping to university and later to Greece.
She could rationalize all she wanted that by working for Niko she had “saved” them, but Niko hadn’t been a pillar of the community. He’d been horrible to Javiero. Selfish and demanding and cutthroat. Entitled. No wonder Javiero hated her for working for him.
Now she was a terrible mother who couldn’t seem to comfort their child. The doctor assured her Locke was healthy, that it was “just colic,” but she had tried every tip she could find online and nothing seemed to help.
Javiero knew on some level. He must. He began curtailing their socializing, something that should have been a relief and, instead, made her feel as though he didn’t want to be seen with her.
At least he still wanted to kiss and touch her. He did every night, until they were sighing with bliss.
She needed that. She craved his touch because his kisses and caresses drowned out the blaring, berating voices in her head and, for a brief time, she felt beautiful and cherished and good.
But she wasn’t. Even when it came to the work she had fought so hard to continue she was dropping balls and making stupid mistakes. She managed to clean up her own messes, but it took extra time and she was so embarrassed she didn’t tell anyone, not even Kiara, afraid her friend would insist on replacing her.
She put her mental state down to stress over Javiero’s suggestion they go to London. He had business there and suggested she accompany him as a mini honeymoon of sorts, once she had her final checkup. He even arranged for her mother to come down to London and meet her grandson.
Scarlett appreciated all of that, but she couldn’t shake a sense of impending doom at the prospect of going back to England. She didn’t have energy to come up with reasons to put it off, however.
She saw her doctor the morning they were leaving, mostly as a formality. Locke was hitting all his milestones, and Scarlett needed only a proper prescription for the minipill. She’d started a sample pack after her last visit to see how she reacted.
When the doctor asked whether the baby blues were still troubling her, she brushed off mentioning the weepiness and fatigue she continued to experience. She was still adjusting to her new life. Anxiety and impatience were to be expected. Nothing could be done except wait it out. Eventually things would settle down and she wouldn’t feel so overwhelmed, she reasoned.
Besides, she was afraid the doctor wouldn’t give her the all clear to use the bed for other purposes if she mentioned she wasn’t sleeping well. The physical closeness she had with Javiero was so reassuring that she wanted to continue it. She hoped taking it to the next level would draw them even closer.
She filled her prescription on her way back to the flat and smiled shyly when she found him in his den.
“Cleared to travel?” he asked as he ended a call and rose to come around his desk.
Dear Lord, the man was sexy as hell. His shirt shifted across his bulky shoulders and chest. He had the natural grace of a predator lazily coming across to its mate, brimming with confidence in his right to push into her space.
She swallowed and nodded, blushing deeply. “And to resume all other activities.”
“Well, that is good news. I’ve been anxious to go ice-skating.” He tilted up her chin and set a teasing kiss on her laughing mouth. “Unfortunately, I have some news that’s less so. I’ll stay with you in London long enough to meet your mother, but I have to leave for New York by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Should Locke and I come to America with you?”
“I’ll be tied up every day,” he dismissed. “You’ll be more comfortable making your way back to Casa del Cielo at your own pace. Spend as much time as you like with your family.”
Counteroffer, she wanted to say, but he was turning her toward the door.
“I’ve made dinner reservations. Let’s get to London before I become distracted with ‘other activities.’”
* * *
Scarlett had traveled extensively with Niko and had always stayed in five-star hotels or luxury properties that he owned. She’d overseen enough of his real estate deals that she immediately understood what a gem Javiero had obtained with this penthouse atop a newly built glass skyscraper in Mayfair.
The views were stupendous, of course, and the terrace was to die for, but the interior was equally beautiful. It was furnished in ultramodern clean lines, the color scheme a neutral bone with pops of silver and blue gray. There were five bedrooms, each with a bath—the master had two, a his and a hers.
Javiero nipped out briefly while she was getting settled and returned with a pair of drop earrings, fanned white diamonds that draped a string of dangling pale blue ones.
“Please tell me that’s a loan,” she said on a gasp.
“It’s a gift. This is our first proper date.”
“Flowers would have sufficed,” she said, but the sweetest pleasure bathed her. He was trying to make this evening special and she found that incredibly endearing. Promising, even. “Thank you.
