I set my glass down and move to the edge of the cushion, preparing to stand. Alec’s words stop me. “But I have a very different interest in you as a woman. As Samantha.”
“And what’s that?” I ask sharply, anger rising up as a natural attempt to conceal hurt and humiliation.
Alec looks down at his glass where he swirls the amber liquid inside it. “Well, that’s a little more complicated.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I think it’s my turn to ask a few questions, don’t you?”
I want to pout and refuse to answer any more of his queries, but that would make me seem like a petulant child, and I don’t need to make a bigger fool of myself than I already have.
Relaxing back into the cushion in a manner that belies the tension I feel on the inside, I clasp my hands in my lap and answer, “I suppose so.”
There are a dozen questions I can think of that I hope and pray he doesn’t ask. I hold my breath in the silence before he speaks.
“When was your last relationship?”
I’m both puzzled and caught off guard by his question. For whatever reason, I wasn’t expecting for him to go in this direction.
“Two and a half years ago.”
“Why did it end?”
My muscles tighten defensively. This is the tip of an iceberg that’s haunted my entire adult life. I have to be careful how I answer. I can’t risk revealing too much.
“It just…didn’t work out.” I pick at my pants, knowing my answer is a cop out. I hope he doesn’t dig deeper.
“I thought we were being honest here, Samantha.”
There’s something about the way he says my name. Even now, in this office, surrounded by tension, it’s like a caress. I feel it all the way to my core. And I shiver in response.
“I am being honest. That’s the—”
“All right then, let me be more specific. What was the exact cause of death? Did you end it or did he?”
“That’s two questions.”
“Stop deflecting.”
“I’m not—”
“Yes, you are.”
I want to huff. Or stomp my foot. But I don’t. Thankfully, being Laura Drake has taught me a lot about maintaining a façade, even during difficult times. She’s a strong rock behind which I can hide. And I do. Very often.
I clear my throat. “The ‘cause of death’ as you put it was a result of my own insecurities. It always is.”
“Self-sabotage?”
I think on this. “No, I want nothing more than to have a normal relationship, but—”
“Normal? How do you define normal?”
I feel color bloom in my cheeks. I’m at a total loss on how to answer him without giving too much away, without giving him a glimpse of my shame.
I remind myself that I could just get up and walk out. I don’t have to answer anything. It’s only my curiosity about Alec, my unwillingness to just let the possibility of him go, that spurs me on.
“You can tell me, Samantha,” he says softly. “There’s no judgment here.”
Something inside me clicks, as if for one moment in time, all the walls and the guile and the scars shift just enough to let someone in. And it all happens before I can make the conscious effort to stop it.
“A normal sexual relationship, where I can…receive pleasure as well as give it.”
“Do you feel that you don’t receive pleasure?”
“No. I do get pleasure from an intimate relationship. But some of the men I’ve dated expect…”
“Expect?”
“Isn’t it my turn to ask a question?”
“After this one, yes.”
I hold in my sigh. “The men I’ve dated have wanted more…response from me than what comes naturally,” I say vaguely, my cheeks heating again.
Why the hell are you still here?
I honestly don’t know the answer to that. I feel like I’ve been taken over.
By Alec.
Even though no one is making me stay, I’m feeling trapped and mortified when Alec leans forward to put his elbows on his knees. When he speaks, his voice, as placid as a calm lake, soothes me. I feel almost hypnotized, as though I’m not in complete control. As though I’m being eased into submission.
“You don’t need to hide things from me, Samantha. I knew from reading Laura Drake’s work that she had some sexually traumatic experiences in her life. Now, after putting you together with her, it paints a picture of someone who needs to come to terms not only with her past, but with who she is today. Who she is, what she wants and how to go forward.”
He’s so right. About all of it. But even as I’m laid bare before him, I can’t forget that he has his own secrets. I can’t forget that, while he is distracting me like a world class snake charmer, he’s the one hiding fangs. He’s the dangerous one, capable of great harm and a wicked bite.
“Why are you so fascinated by someone like Laura Drake? What brings a man like you into a profession like this? I’m beginning to think you have as much to hide as I do.”
The corners of Alec’s mouth curve into a small, cool smile. It’s not warm or genuine. It’s ironic. Bitter, even. I’m certain I struck a nerve when he doesn’t answer me, just continues to watch me with that odd expression.
When a muted beep sounds from the desk behind me, Alec’s expression turns curiously blank and clinical. “Our time is up.”
I know he’s speaking about more than just today and this visit. He’s saying that our time is up, that we’re done. Over, even though we never really started.
“You’re not going to answer my question?”
“Unfortunately, I have a lunch engagement.”
“How convenient,” I say, standing to my feet.
With every intention of walking away and never looking back, no matter how bad it hurts, I head for the door. Alec’s voice stops me.
“You could always keep your appointment for Thursday.”
I pause with my hand on the door knob. I glance over my shoulder to see Alec standing beside his desk, his hands tucked casually in the pockets of his dark gray slacks. He cuts a striking figure with his neatly-combed black hair and bronze skin that contrast so sharply with the pale green shirt that matches his eyes. He’s my Mason through and through. Only he’s not. And he’s certainly not mine.