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Not Just the Boss's Plaything(74)

By:Caitlin Crews


"I believe you." He kept himself from touching her, but barely. "But I'm not prepared to watch you martyr yourself. Not for me."

* * *

Dru felt as if he'd kicked her.

"I'm no martyr," she said in a low voice, her mind reeling.

"Are you certain?" His voice was like silk, danger and demand. And he    didn't back down so much as an inch. "I can almost see the flames dance    around you as you burn yourself at the stake of your choosing."

She couldn't handle this. He was so much larger than life and standing    in the middle of her tiny flat, taking it over, as if the space could    not contain him. As if it groaned around him, near enough to bursting  at   the seams with the effort of holding the force of him within these    walls. She couldn't seem to make sense of it. Or breathe past the knot    in her stomach.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said, but she hardly sounded like herself.

He started toward her, backing her up against the cold windows on the    far side of the room. It took all of three steps, and then the cold    glass was at her back and Cayo was a wall in front of her, big and    tempting and more dangerous to her than anything else in the world.

"What have you told yourself?" he asked in that smooth way that made her    look around wildly for some escape route. "Have you cried over me,   Dru?  The man who cannot love you back? Have you forgotten I know you,   too?"

"Are you mocking me?" She was incredulous. Not sure if that was anger or    agony that surged inside of her, she focused on that fiercely cruel    face of his and asked herself why she'd expected anything else. "Are  you   really that much of a monster, after all?"

His dark amber eyes glowed with something that was not quite    malice-something that shivered through her and made her catch her    breath. Temper. Fury. And that simmering, unquenchable desire that had    ensnared them in this in the first place.

"How convenient for you," he said, his voice no less deadly for all it    was so soft, like a lover's. "To find yourself someone else you can  love   so bravely, and from afar."                       
       
           



       

His words slammed into her like blows. Dru heard herself make some kind    of horrible squeaking sound, and thought her legs would give out. She    staggered back against the windowsill, while Cayo only stood there,    pitiless, and watched.

"You only love what can never love you back," he told her in that same    way, so calmly, as if he didn't know how devastating it was. As if he    couldn't see what it was doing to her-or more likely, didn't care. "You    arrange your life around distant objects that you can circle but  never   approach. You thrive on it."

"You..." She could hardly speak. She felt winded. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" She saw the shadows in his eyes, the darkness that lurked    there. "Do you love me, Dru? Or do you only think you do because you    imagine there's no danger I could ever return it? No chance you might    risk yourself, not really. You get to pretend to suffer for your great    love while remaining, as ever, completely and utterly alone.    Hermetically sealed away. The perfect bloody martyr." He paused, his    eyes flashed, and his voice dropped. "Just as you did with your    brother."

She lifted a hand as if to stave him off, unable to keep herself from    trembling, and sank down against the wall, her legs no longer capable of    holding her upright. But he was relentless-he was ruthless down into    his bones, and he squatted down before her, his coat flaring around  him   like a cape, his suit clinging to the hard muscles of his thighs. A    perfect and pitiless god, rendering his terrible judgment.

"You," he said, as if she had missed his point, "have no idea what love is."

For what felt like a long time-whole ages, perhaps centuries-Dru could    only stare at him, stricken, too deeply shaken even to weep. She felt    cracked open, as if she yawned wide and he was the brash, bright light    exposing all of her darkness to the air.

And it hurt so much and so deeply that she dimly suspected she hadn't    yet got to the real pain-that this was only the shock that preceded it.

"And you do?" she asked eventually. Belligerently, though her voice quaked.

Cayo's eyes were brilliant. Dark and gold and molten fire, burning her    alive. He reached over and took her hands in his, and she should have    jerked away. But instead, she exulted in the feel of his skin against    hers after all this time. It pumped through her like heat, as though  her   own blood betrayed her, as though there was no part of her that  wasn't   his no matter what she told herself. Or told him.

"Let me tell you what I know," he told her, his voice low, intense.    Urgent. His accent was thick and melodic then, wrapping around her,    caressing her. "I want you. I want you in ways that I don't understand. I    can live without you, but I don't want to. I don't see the point."

"Cayo-"

"Callate," he ordered her. He shifted back on his heels, dropping her    hands though she still felt as if he touched her, as if he surrounded    her. She folded her hands over what was left of his heat. "I tried. I    let you go. You came back." His fierce face looked almost harsh. Stark    and serious. "You only love what you cannot have, and I have never been    anything but a monster. I've never wanted to be anything but what I   am."  His cruel mouth moved slightly, hinting at that curve. "Until   now."

Something swelled up in the space between them, precarious and new. Dru    felt the tears trickle down her cheeks but made no move to wipe them    away. She could only see Cayo. And like one of those hummingbirds that    Dominic had inked into his skin, she felt something flutter up and    hover, skittish and shy, like some kind of gift. Hope, she thought, and    that great cavern inside her, that terrible emptiness that had eaten   her  alive for so long, began at last to shrink.

She didn't want pain. She didn't want that masochistic streak. She    wanted him. She always had. And she was tired of hiding. It was time to    stop. Past time.

This time she was the one who reached out. She sat forward and ran her    hands along his severe jaw, then held his fierce, impossible face    between her hands. She felt the heat of him moving through her, warming    her from the inside out.                       
       
           



       

"If I am not a martyr," she said, her voice small but strong, "and you are not a monster, then who do you suppose we are?"

"That's the point," he said, his hands coming up to cover hers, his gaze    melting into hers, the world shifting all around them and the fire   that  always burned between them bright and hot and true. Making them    something more than they were before. Soldering them together. Welding    them, finally, into one. Not clay, but tempered steel. "I want to find    out. With you."

"I think we can do that," she whispered, and then she tipped forward and kissed him, like a vow.

* * *

He found her sprawled out on one of the loungers on the private deck off    the owner's suite on the great yacht, her lovely curves displayed to    mouthwatering perfection in a wickedly simple bikini.

She smiled as he approached, but did not set aside her tablet until he    lifted her bodily into the air and captured her mouth with his. He had    not seen her in almost a full twenty-four hours and felt as desperate  as   if it had been years.

He set her to her feet carefully, enjoying the slide of her against him.

"What is it?" she asked, her clever eyes moving over his face.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a long, narrow white box and    handed it to her. She looked up at him for a moment, then looked down    and opened the box. She gasped. And Cayo tensed, not certain this had    been the right thing to do.