“Mother,” I heard Constantijin say from behind in a warning tone.
Marge’s voice became steely. “Leave.”
I twisted my head around and was stunned to see Constantijin actually leaving. Yes, that made it official then. Marge was definitely the boss in their family. When I looked back, Marge was smiling prettily again. But this time, I was so not fooled.
“Ma’am?” I asked very respectfully.
She beamed. “Oh, darling, you have no reason to be afraid of little ole me.”
I silently begged to differ.
“You and my son are at odds with each other, yes?”
Who knew Constantijin would be such a tattletale?
Coughing, I said vaguely, “Umm…”
She smirked.
Oh my God, so this was where Constantijin inherited his smirking ways!
“Dear,” she sighed, “there is something I have to tell you about my son.”
Something in her tone made me stiffen.
“He’s an ass. I love him, he’s my son, but he’s an ass.”
Okaaaaay. Totally did not see that coming, but hey, if she wanted to call Constantijin the A-word then I didn’t have any problem with that.
She sighed again. “It’s my fault, really.” She glanced around, her eyes looking for Constantijin. He stood opposite us, at the other end of the ballroom, a glass of some dark-colored liquor in his hands. When he saw us looking at him, his head cocked to the side in askance, one eyebrow lifting.
“Maybe someday, when you are with him longer, I’ll tell you why. I probably have to, one way or another.”
Her words were so cryptic I couldn’t help wondering what she and Constantijin seemed to be hiding from the whole world. Margaret suddenly lifted her hand and waved.
In a few seconds, Constantijin was at our side and Margaret was telling him to take me to the dance floor.
Whoa!
“I…” I couldn’t really say ‘no’, not with Margaret smiling at us expectantly and everyone looking our way.
Constantijin grinned at his mother.
She answered with a smirk. “You’re welcome.”
And then Constantijin was whisking me to the dance floor, his hands spanning my waist as the DJ played a slow jam mix of something by One Republic and Ne-Yo.
I stood stiffly in the circle of his arms.
"Look at me, Yanna."
"No.” I forced myself to smile when I realized that a lot of people were looking at us. Acting stiff was expected – he was the CEO and I was not - but looking angry meant having something more than what's right between us.
But God, it felt so incredibly good to be back in his arms. Too good.
Constantijin said harshly, “I’m sorry.”
I kept my gaze stubbornly over his shoulders even though my stomach twisted at the ragged sincerity in his voice.
“I f**ked up.”
Can’t believe him, can’t listen to him, can’t---
“I talked to my mom about you. I told her everything.”
My head jerked up at that. “You what?”
His eyes bored into me. “You didn’t want to talk to me, and I didn’t know how to reach out to you.”
“B-but why your mom?”
“Do I look like the kind to have a platonic girl friend?”
He had a point, but…I glared up at him. “Seriously, your mom?”
Constantijin bit out, “It was either my mom or Charli. Do you prefer I had talked to your boss instead?”
Darn it. He had a point with that, too.
Constantijin seemed visibly struggling to find the next words to say. It was rare for him to be lost for words, and I couldn’t help but stare at him even as my whole body prickled in acute awareness of his nearness, his scent, his very hardness.
“Yanna---I never had a relationship in my whole life.”
I tripped – or would have if he hadn’t swiftly caught me, his hands tightening around my waist. My eyes were locked with his, which blazed with emotion. “Never?” I whispered.
He said roughly, “There was a girl I dated briefly when I was in my teens, but other than that---I never found a reason to tie myself to one woman, never been interested in being faithful.” His grip tightening even more, he said, “I hated how you always seemed to have the upper hand between us, never giving me a straight answer---”
“Because you were asking things you didn’t have the right to ask!” I half shrieked.
Constantijin coughed.
That alone was enough to remind me we had an audience, and a very interested one at that.
Lowering my voice belatedly, I added, “Sir.”
His eyes laughed at me, and the secretive, wicked grin I so loved reappeared on his lips when I made a face at him. “People are going to talk about us tomorrow,” I muttered. “I should leave now---”
“No.” The laughter was gone from his eyes, replaced by a furious glitter. “Don’t go.” His hands tightening around my waist, Constantijin muttered, “We still haven’t talked about us.”
“Constantijin---”
“I’m sorry I f**ked up. I can say it again and again, but it won’t change things. Give me another chance and it will be different this time.”
I so badly wanted to believe him, but he’s already hurt and left me hanging twice. Shaking my head, I mumbled, "I forgive you, Constantijin, but---”
“One more chance, Yanna. That’s all I ask.”
No, no, no, my head shrilly protested, but it was too late. Constantijin’s gotten under my skin again and he’s found his way back to my heart. “Just give me time and space to think,” I said.
“Fine.”
Just when I thought that was all he was going to say – and that was frankly disappointing – Constantijin spoke again. “But I want you to know…it’s not just sex between us, Yanna.” The music we were swaying to switched tempos, and he suddenly whirled me around. As he did, he said, “You matter to me.”
Then he was walking me back to George.
I was literally shell shocked for more than a few minutes, unable to believe that Constantijin Kastein had made such a declaration. From the very first time we met, it had always been sex between us, or at least I thought it had been for him until now.
You matter to me.
Oh my God, oh my God. Constantijin with his overtly sexual magnetism took my breath away, his c**k a weapon I was helpless against. But Constantijin actually growing a heart?
“George.” I was back to being talkative, and I was dying to tell someone about what had just happened.