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Ramsay(15)

By:Mia Sheridan


I squared my shoulders and returned to the living room where Anna was  leaned in to Brogan whispering something in his ear. Her hand was  between his thighs, resting just above his knee. His gaze met mine above  her turned head, and my eyes widened at the direct eye contact.  "Dinner's ready," I muttered, pivoting back toward the kitchen. God, I  hated this. And I hated him. I hated that this was bothering me. I hated  that he was doing this to me just because he could. He was doing this  to prove that he held all the control. Like a spoiled toddler, he was  going to show me who was in possession of all the toys. And yet, he knew  nothing about me now. He knew nothing of the things I'd experienced  since that day seven years ago. He didn't know that I'd suffered, too.  He didn't know because he hadn't attempted to find out. He probably  hadn't cared and really, I guess I couldn't blame him, and yet it hurt  all the same. And so this was who Brogan Ramsay had become: a man who  took pleasure from exacting any petty revenge he could on a person he  knew nothing of anymore.

I took another sip of wine, feeling anger move through me. I held on to  the emotion tightly-it felt so much better than the jealousy, the hurt.  Perhaps I deserved all three, but it didn't mean I had to like it.

The fact remained, though: I did have to endure it. I'd agreed to as much.

Brogan and Anna came into the dining room. Anna shot me an annoyed look.  Clearly, she'd rather be alone with Brogan. Who could blame her,  really? I'd be uncomfortable if I were her, too. I'd serve dinner and  make myself scarce.                       
       
           



       

I brought the dished-up plates to the table and refilled their drinks. "If you don't need anything else-"

"We might. Stay nearby," Brogan instructed. I felt my nostrils flare,  but I simply nodded and left the room. In the kitchen I poured myself a  second glass of wine and sat at the island flipping, unseeing, through a  magazine of neighborhood coupons that was sitting with the other junk  mail.

Anna's feminine laughter drifted from the dining room. I heard Brogan  call my name and froze, getting up slowly and walking back into the  dining room where I saw Anna had pulled her chair closer to Brogan.

"What can I get for you?" I asked, clasping my hands in front of me and smiling placidly.

Without turning to me, Brogan said, "I dropped my napkin. Will you bring me a new one please?"

Or you could simply bend down and pick it back up, you arrogant asshole.  "Of course." I retrieved another napkin from his linen drawer and took  it into him.

"Thanks," he said, not looking at me. I held the napkin out to him, but  when it became clear he wasn't going to take it, I set it down on the  table, my knuckles rapping against the wood. The noise caused him to  glance up at me, those blue, blue eyes meeting mine. My heart squeezed.

"God," Anna moaned, putting a forkful of halibut into her mouth, "this  is so good." She licked her bottom lip slowly and giggled, putting her  fork down and sliding her hand across the table where she used her index  finger to run along the top of Brogan's hand. "My compliments, Lydia.  This food is almost better than sex." She looked pointedly at Brogan.  "Almost." She turned her eyes toward me, clear hostility there now. And  why? I'd done nothing to her.

"Well," I said, shooting her what I hoped was a fake looking smile, "I  really wouldn't know. I've only been with one man, and it was an  extremely unfulfilling experience."

Brogan's body went rigid and Anna's eyes narrowed. "That's a shame,  Lydia. Maybe you should get out more." Like right now, was written on  her face.

"That's a good idea, Anna. If there'll be nothing more, I'll leave you  two to enjoy your date." I didn't give Brogan the chance to reply before  rushing from the room. I grabbed my phone off the counter and headed up  the stairs. I'd come down later-after they were gone wherever it was  they'd end up going-and clean the kitchen then. Was she going to spend  the night here? I ran my fingers over my forehead. So this was his plan.  How stupid I was to even consider that he'd brought me to his home to  use me as some modern-day sex slave. He was going to keep me here to  show me how very wanted he was by other women. How very little he wanted  me. Why? Because he'd thought all those years ago my tricking him meant  that I hadn't cared for him at all. And yet, if he cared enough to go  to such extreme lengths to prove something to me, didn't it also prove  that he'd cared and cared deeply? Had cared? Did care? I sighed. Oh,  Brogan. What is this you're doing?

And now he knew he was the only man I'd ever been with because I'd  blurted it out in a moment of anger. I cringed. I hadn't thought that  out. I hardly wanted him to know that.

I undressed and took a long, hot shower and then put on a pair of cotton  shorts and a tank top I slept in. I hoped Brogan wouldn't try to call  me downstairs to serve dessert. Oops, I hadn't made dessert. Well, Anna  would appreciate that-she wouldn't have to wait to get Brogan upstairs  and into bed. I put in a pair of ear buds and turned on Spotify on my  phone, lying back on the bed.

Something woke me. I blinked, trying to grasp where I was for a moment,  moaning aloud when I finally did. I felt like I'd been sleeping for  hours. My eyes adjusted to the low light and I turned over, bringing my  knees up and wrapping my arms around them, loneliness assaulting me in  the darkness of this strange bedroom.

"Were you lying?"

I startled, letting out a small yelp and jerking upright. Brogan had  turned one of the chairs flanking the fireplace and was sitting on it,  leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs as he watched me.

I allowed my heart rate to slow for a few moments, removing the  now-silent ear buds. My playlist had ended. "It's not okay to come into  my room without permission."

"You went into mine."

Ah, so he'd noticed. "Not while you were in there," I defended.

"That makes it better?"

"I . . . what do you want? I didn't think midnight visits to my bedroom  were part of our deal, not that we've defined the terms of our deal  since you stood me up last night." I scooted to the side of the bed,  running my hand through my hair, trying to work out some of the tangles.

"Were you lying about having only been with me?"                       
       
           



       

I stared at him in the dim light, his features softened, the color of his eyes subdued. "No, I wasn't lying."

"Why?" he hissed.

I jerked back slightly. "Why what?"

"Why haven't you been with another man in all this time?" He stood  suddenly and stuffed his hands in his pockets, turning toward the  window.

"Maybe I didn't find the experience particularly pleasant. Maybe I haven't been eager to repeat it."

He didn't turn, didn't react to what I'd said. I wasn't sure if he  really wanted the truth here, or whether it was to satisfy some morbid  curiosity. I released a slow breath, biting my lip. "I don't know. I  guess I just haven't met anyone it went that far with. Between my dad  passing, and the problems with the company . . . I just . . . my focus  hasn't really been on dating."

"But before that?" he asked, still not turning. There was a note of  something I wasn't sure how to define in his voice. Almost a sad  weariness.

I swallowed. Before that . . . I waved my hand around. "Before that, I  realized it was much more fun playing games with a whole handful of boys  than just one," I lied. "More fun being a tease than actually giving  in." It seemed to be what he wanted to believe and he wouldn't get the  truth from me. Not under these circumstances. He already had enough  leverage against me, plenty to hurt me with. I would not give him more.

He turned after several tense moments, his jaw ticking. "I see."

No, you don't. I nodded, standing and walking to the door where I opened  it and then crossed my arms, waiting for him to leave my room. "You  shouldn't keep Anna waiting. I'm sure she's wondering where you snuck  off to in the middle of the night."

"Anna's gone."

"Well that was . . . fast."

He studied me from where he stood by the window for several tense  seconds before tilting his head minutely, his eyes narrowing as he  walked toward me. I willed myself to stand still, not to look away as he  approached me. When he got within a foot, I dropped my arms and backed  up slightly, my back hitting the wall next to the door. I wished he  wasn't so tall. Standing this close to me, I was forced to tip my head  back and look up at him giving him an unfair advantage. I stiffened my  spine. "We took such alternate paths after that day, princess." He  stepped right up to me, leaning toward my ear. I felt his warm breath  fan my neck and shivered slightly. Unconsciously, I inhaled to catch his  scent before I realized what I'd done. I remembered him smelling salty  with sweat when I'd known him before. I'd loved it. It had spoken to my  body in some primitive way my mind didn't understand completely but  thrilled at all the same. He didn't smell like sweat anymore, though.  Now, he was a man who looked as if he'd smell like some expensive  cologne. But even this close, I could only detect clean skin and soap.  But of course, Brogan Ramsay wouldn't wear cologne, would he . . .?