"Anything to say?" She was waiting for him to make some comment or show disgust, he could tell. He did neither.
He'd read about the attack when he ran a check on her. Seen the pictures of the aftermath, but he hadn't known her then, so they hadn't impacted him in any way. Another victim of another horrendous, senseless crime. Another entitled bastard who'd eluded justice and fled the country.
Now it was a different matter altogether. Now he'd been inside her, kissed her, laughed with her. At the thought of her going through what had caused such a mark, murderous rage raced through his veins, but he squelched it, and without showing any emotion, said calmly, "No, I'm good."
PAIGE WAS SURPRISED at his lack of reaction, although in all honesty, she shouldn't have been. So far Nico had been … not what one would expect.
Before she could say anything, the door opened, and they were led by a catering server to the living room, where animated chattering could be heard.
Her mother smiled at them, her lips going into a thin line at the sight of Paige's uncovered throat. Her dad discreetly averted his eyes. Jerry, her dad's business partner, and his wife, Susan, did the same, looking uncomfortable. Same old, same old. They all saw the big, fat elephant in the room, yet they pretended not to. One would think sweeping something as big as a throat slashing under the rug would be impossible. Not so much.
Paige had soon realized that trying to attend her mother's social gatherings dressed more alternatively got her a condescending eye-roll, as if she was a spoiled kid throwing a tantrum-which she maybe was. Throwing a tantrum, anyway. Not spoiled. She'd always worked very hard for everything. Work ethic was something her family had in spades. They never quit, not even when they should. Case in point, the ex she should have walked away from long before the shit hit the fan and the asshole went all Ginsu on her.
Paige approached her mother, gave her a kiss, and handed her the scarf. "It was chilly outside, but it's too hot in here to wear this."
Her mom was very adept at hiding her annoyance, especially in front of guests, but Paige wasn't fooled. Her mother was displeased, to say the least. Tough shit. Paige wasn't jumping up and down for joy either.
While her mother made the offensive scarf disappear-offensive because it wasn't wound around her daughter's neck, of course-Paige greeted her dad and then the guests.
"Paige, sweetheart, so glad to see you," Jerry said as she hugged him. "Who is this young man?"
Her father took over before she could answer, and addressed Nico. "I believe we haven't been properly introduced. Welcome. Nico, am I right? Ben Erlington. This is Susan Shane and her husband, Jerry. Jerry and I are business partners. And of course you've met my wife, Emily."
Nico handled the introductions like a pro. Offered a firm shake, an easy, sure-of-himself smile. A light kiss on the back of the hand for the ladies. Perfectly mannered, her drug lord. "Nico Grabar. A pleasure."
With everyone trying very hard not to notice her throat or get caught staring at it, they all turned their attention to Nico, which suited her just fine.
"Grabar. That's Eastern European, right?" Jerry asked.
Nico nodded. "Croatian, actually, but I was born in Russia."
"Tell us, Mr. Grabar, what do you do for a living?" her dad asked, offering him a drink.
Paige smirked. "Yeah, tell us what you do for a living. Wait until they're all sitting down, though."
Nico threw a deadly glare her way. "I'm a petroleum engineer on oil rigs."
"Fascinating. How did you two meet?"
"That's a funny story," Paige began.
Nico cut her off. "Through friends."
"From the country club or from Boston College?" her mother asked.
"There's no such thing as friends at that country club, Mom."
The tension in the room rose. Everyone appeared to be floundering for a polite change of topic-except Susan. "What happened to your face?" she asked, gesturing with her glass at the bandage over Nico's eyebrow.
Nico shook his head, looking aggravated. "Some people should not be allowed on the golf course."
The mention of golf got her father's eyes sparkling. "Are you a golf man?"
"I try to be."
Nico was so not a golf man, but her dad was. Paige would have bet her firstborn that Nico had noticed the photos of her dad and his buddies playing golf.
Once her dad got started on golf, everyone relaxed and the third degree ended, which had probably been Nico's plan. She had to give him credit: the man knew how to mingle and which buttons to press to direct the conversation. He was at ease with these people. Much more than she was, in fact.
From what she could see, the bandage around his side seemed to be holding, because his white shirt was not turning red. Although if that happened, she was sure Nico could convince them a red pen had burst in his pocket. Or some surreal shit like that. He was that good.