A Ruthless Proposition(18)

“You can dance in your spare time.”

“As a hobby, you mean?”

Blue hesitated, before nodding, and Cleo ignored the stab of pain in her chest as she thought about what her friend had said.

“That would mean giving up on the only real dream I’ve ever had,” she whispered.

Blue said nothing for a long time, keeping her hands busy and her eyes averted as she began meticulously peeling potatoes. “Cleo, maybe it’s time to find another dream?” Blue finally whispered, and Cleo’s heart stuttered in her chest.

“What’s for dinner?” Cleo asked, changing the subject clumsily.

“Nothing fancy, just beef stew and mashed potatoes, with bread pudding and custard for dessert.”

“Ooh, perfect for a cold, rainy day,” Cleo enthused, eyeing the buckets collecting water in the corner. The damned roof leaked like a sieve, and Luc had already set aside some money to have it fixed when the rain eventually stopped, which didn’t seem like it would be anytime soon. The old house was right on the beach and had a rustic charm that could possibly have passed for shabby chic, if things were a little less shabby and a lot more chic. Its location made it prime property, but the fact that it had been in their family for generations turned it into a burden that desperately needed fixing up. Cleo was a lot less sentimental than Luc and had urged him to sell it, since he couldn’t afford to get married with the damned thing hanging around his neck like an albatross—but her brother had a little more respect for familial obligations than Cleo did.

“Are you staying for dinner?” Blue asked, and Cleo brightened at the invitation she’d been hoping for.

“For your gorgeous beef stew and pud?”

“It’s really plain fare. If I’d known Luc was going to be asking Dante around for dinner, I would have planned something with a little more flair. He’s not exactly the type of guy you serve beef stew to. Although, he’s not at all a snob, is he? The last time he came around to dinner, he schooled your brother in proper manners and cleaned up the kitchen after we ate. He even helped me fix dessert. Seemed to enjoy it, really.”

Cleo hadn’t heard anything beyond the revelation that Dante Damaso was coming around for dinner and was immediately thankful that she hadn’t already agreed to stay for the meal.

“Well, thanks for the invitation, Blue, but—much as I’d love to—I really can’t stay. I’ve been feeling a little under the weather lately. I’m worried I’m coming down with something.”

“But you drove all this way. I thought . . .”

“I was in the area for . . . uh.” She ground to a halt as she comprehended that there really was no good reason for her to be so far out of her way. “Well, I wanted to see you. I haven’t seen much of you since getting back from Tokyo, what with the job change and all. But I underestimated how ill I was feeling. I should go home and get into bed.”

“What are your symptoms? Maybe I have something here that can help with them?” Blue was a nurse and had first met Luc eight years before, while he’d still been taking care of their ailing grandparents. Blue had been one of the junior nurses in the oncology ward, and while nothing romantic had flared between them at the time—what with Luc being so preoccupied with the stress of having two extremely ill, elderly people to take care of—he had appreciated the young nurse’s kindness and concern. Their relationship had bloomed after the elderly couple had passed away.

Luc was completely smitten with the tall, doe-eyed, caramel-skinned, brown-haired woman and had asked her to marry him a few years after they’d started dating. But he wanted her to have a fantastic wedding, so the wedding date kept getting pushed back due to financial reasons. They’d been engaged way too long, and while Blue was infinitely patient and understanding, Cleo sometimes wanted to give her brother a swift kick in the butt for being so stubborn on the matter of the house.

“Some tummy issues and just general listlessness. Cal was sick last week, and I think I probably caught this from him.”

“Okay, then stay hydrated and eat as much broth as you can manage. And get a decent night’s sleep tonight,” Blue said, stepping into her caregiving role with complete ease. Cleo smiled warmly at the woman before nodding toward the pot sizzling away behind Blue.

“Your onions are burning,” she pointed out, and laughed when Blue swore and dashed for the pot.

“Give my brother a hug from me, and tell him I’ll see him soon,” Cleo instructed as she got up from the table, eager to leave before Dante and Luc showed up. How weird was it that after years of friendship between the two men, she’d nearly run into him in their family home for the first time ever? Then again, before her accident, Cleo had hardly been a regular visitor to the house. She’d always been miserable here. She hated how strict her grandparents had been, how she and Luc were never allowed out past seven on a weeknight and nine on a weekend, even when they were in their late teens. Luc had been the ever-obedient good boy, while Cleo had been a rebel—receiving constant censure from their grandparents.

Cleo had left home as soon as she was eighteen and had moved in with a small commune of fellow dancers while attending the University of Cape Town School of Dance, earning the elderly couple’s disapproval. Every time she visited home—usually at Luc’s behest—she had always wound up arguing with her grandparents, so she regularly made excuses not to visit. Which was something she would regret for the rest of her life.

Cleo moved to hug Blue, who was still cursing over her charred onions, and made her escape before the other woman could offer any further protest.




Dante parked his Jaguar in front of his friend’s huge, rather creepy old house at exactly the same time as Luc drove up in his serviceable old Ford sedan. He felt his lips settle into a relaxed grin as he caught the other man’s eye. Luc’s face lit up with a huge smile as he got out of his car and rounded the trunk to greet Dante as he leisurely climbed out of his own car.

“Hey, howzit?” Luc called, and grabbed Dante’s hand for a brief shake before tugging him in for a one-armed hug. “Good to see you, Dan. Ready for tonight’s match? Barcelona’s going to wipe the floor with Real Madrid.”

“Oh, amigo, stick to rugby; you clearly know nothing about soccer.” Dante laughed dismissively at Luc’s—frankly ludicrous—prediction, and just like that it was as if they’d seen each other only yesterday.

Their banter continued all the way into the house and then into the kitchen, where Luc greeted his gorgeous fiancée with a sweeping kiss, and Dante followed it up with an only slightly less sweeping kiss. This was the closest thing he had to a proper home in this country, and he’d always guarded these relationships jealously. The knowledge that he’d nearly completely fucked it up with everything that had happened with Cleo was chilling, and he considered himself lucky that he’d managed to get through that entire sordid situation with this important friendship still intact.

Beer in hand, he settled back, ready to enjoy his meal and the companionship for the rest of the evening.




“So what the hell has been going on with you lately?” Luc demanded of Cleo a month after she had narrowly escaped running into Dante Damaso in this very house. Thankfully she hadn’t seen the man at all since then. “We’ve hardly seen you since your return from Tokyo.”

“I’ve been busy with work, and I can’t seem to shake this damned bug. I feel like I’ve been sick forever,” she groused. They were having dinner around the kitchen table, and delicious though it was, Cleo was having a hard time keeping it down.

“You do look a little paler than usual,” Luc said, concerned.

“Do you have to say ‘than usual’? You make me sound like Morticia or a zombie or something.”

“She’s definitely looking a bit vampirical, isn’t she, babe?” he asked Blue, who nodded somberly despite the laughter dancing in her eyes.

“Is ‘vampirical’ even a word?” Cleo scoffed.

“If it isn’t, then it should be.” Luc shrugged.

“I’m just tired and a little depressed because it just never stops raining.” They all simultaneously glanced at the ever-present bucket in one corner of the room, which was rapidly filling with water. It had been raining almost nonstop for nearly a week now, and aside from being depressing and cold, it had caused floods, accidents, and illness. Cleo couldn’t remember any other winter being this desperately grim before.

“Is this still the same bug as last month?” Blue asked, her pretty brown eyes warming with concern, and Cleo nodded.

“Yes. It’s so irritating. It’s nothing serious, just a dodgy stomach and a bit of dizziness. It comes and goes.”

“There is a stomach bug going around,” Blue said. “You can consider yourself lucky if all you’re suffering from is dizziness and a bit of nausea. We’ve practically been swimming in vomit at the office this week.”

“God, Blue.” Luc grimaced, and she grinned unrepentantly. She’d left the hospital a couple of years before and now worked for a private practitioner. The job offered better hours and a much better salary.