Sex for Beginners Box Set(87)

He couldn’t tell her all of those things, because she would never believe him now. And it was his own damn fault.

“I’ll get dressed and fly you home,” he said thickly.

She made a disgusted noise. “You can’t be serious,” she said, her expression filled with loathing. “I don’t want to spend another second with you. I’ll find my own way home.”





18




VIOLET WALKED BLINDLY to her bedroom, her vision hindered by tears. Winslow was scratching at the door, so she assumed they’d woken him up with their loud exchange. When she opened the door, he danced backward, whining, as if he could sense her mood.

She took a two-minute shower and dressed as quickly as she could, still crying. She yanked her hair back into a ponytail and brushed on powder to try to conceal some of the redness, but it was useless—she looked like redheaded zombie.

The damnable letter went into the bottom of her purse. She tossed her clothes and shoes into her suitcase, uncaring of their disarray. Then she shepherded Winslow back into his carrier under protest, kicked open the bedroom door and carried him out with her suitcase.

Dominick stood near the door to his bedroom, fully dressed. She could barely look at him. She was so humiliated…especially for the feelings she’d developed for him. She had been falling in love with him and all the while, he’d been laughing at her, pitying her loveless life. Waves of shame washed over her.

And she had the worst case of hiccups from her crying jag.

When Dominick made a move to help with her luggage, she stiffened and pulled away. But by the time she came out of the bedroom with her second load, he had carried her suitcase and Winslow out into the hall.

“I don’t want your help,” she declared, daring him to defy her.

He looked as if he wanted to say something, but instead, he nodded and set the bags down.

“Goodbye, Dominick,” she said pointedly, and pulled the door closed in his face. She wrestled everything onto a shoulder or arm and managed to get it all to the freight elevator. She knew she looked like a bag lady walking through the hotel lobby. A bellman stopped to assist her and she asked if he could hail her a cab.

Violet kept the fresh tears at bay until she’d settled into the cab and they’d pulled away from the curb headed toward the Miami airport. Then she pulled the pink polka-dot envelope from her purse and scanned the letter. She burst into tears again when she realized it truly was as embarrassing as she remembered. The thought of Dominick reading the letter and using it to entertain himself made her throb with humiliation. No wonder he’d known all the right buttons to push. The letter was practically a how-to guide for turning her on.

God, his betrayal just hurt so much.

She blew her nose and tried to stop the little mewling noises coming from her throat, but she couldn’t help it. The cabbie kept sending her worried looks, and Winslow pawed at the carrier door. It didn’t help that outside, jagged lines of lightning lit the humid early morning sky. She tried to soothe the little dog with comforting words.

“We should’ve stayed home, Winslow.” Which didn’t exactly soothe her.

At the airport, the driver helped to carry her luggage to the curb, then accepted the tip with a nod.

“Merry Christmas, ma’am.”

Violet tried her best to smile. “Merry Christmas to you, too.”

As she turned away, she let out a long breath. So much for her magical Christmas. No one wanted her.

Initially, she’d been worried that not many flights would be running Christmas day. But the airport was packed. Who knew it was such a busy travel day? Thank goodness Winslow’s carrier was small enough to carry on board. But the real problem, she discovered when she tried to secure a seat back to Atlanta, were the thunderstorms that had developed across the southeast.

“Listen for announcements,” the attendant told her with the quick smile of a harried person. “But between you and me, it looks like nothing’s moving in or out of here for at least a couple of hours.”

To think that she’d hoped for snow for Christmas, and here she was stranded at the Miami airport.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, ma’am?”

Violet swallowed her bitter disappointment. “Would you happen to have a paper shredder back there?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She dug out her the polka-dot envelope containing the damnable letter. “Will it handle this?”

“Yes, ma’m.”

Violet handed over the envelope and stood there while the woman fed the letter through, creating pink confetti on the other side.

Good riddance, she thought.

If not for that stupid letter, she might not have let herself be convinced that her life was boring. If not for that stupid letter, she wouldn’t have considered Dominick’s illicit invitation. If not for that stupid letter, she wouldn’t have had sex with Dominick on a counter…in an open field…on a penthouse balcony…in his bed—

“Ma’am?” the representative asked. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Violet said. “Could you direct me to the animal relief areas?”

“Stay on this floor, down this corridor, look for the signs.”

“May I take him out of his carrier?”

“As long as he’s housebroken and leashed.”

“Thank you.” She picked up Winslow’s carrier and moved to a public seating area where she could hear P.A. announcements and have proximity to the exit door that led to a patch of grass where she could walk Winslow if necessary. She let him out of the carrier, and since there were several empty chairs, she let him climb up on the seat next to her where he curled up and gnawed on the chew toy that Dominick had given him.

Violet’s mind wouldn’t shut down, wouldn’t stop torturing her with images of what she’d experienced with Dominick. The man had missed his calling as an actor. She’d certainly been fooled by his warm eyes, easy laugh and charitable contributions. She’d actually begun to think there was more to him than met the eye.

And what met the eye was so mouth-watering.

She rubbed her throbbing temples. In fact, everything inside her hurt. Every breath delivered new currents of pain. After she returned to Atlanta, hopefully her frantic daily routine would help her to keep going, to put this ugly chapter of her life behind her. Work had always been her salvation…and it would be again.

Christmas tunes played over the P.A. system. “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” was playing, the Bing Crosby version. The words made Violet’s eyes water. If the weather broke, she would be home for Christmas. Too bad no one else would be there.

She unzipped her bulging suitcase since she had time to rearrange things. When she opened it, she was shocked to find the gift bag she’d seen in Dominick’s dresser drawer. She frowned, wondering when he’d—

When he’d moved her suitcase to the hallway. He must have stuck it inside.

She pursed her mouth. He had a lot of nerve, forcing his Christmas gift on her after what he’d done. Violet shook the bag. Whatever it was, she was going to get rid of it.

She bit into her lip and looked at Winslow. “Should I open it?”

He dropped the chew toy and barked enthusiastically.

“Maybe it’s something else you can chew on,” Violet said dryly. She sighed and conceded that her curiosity was burning. Besides, she wanted to know what it was, just so she could hate it. Opening the gift bag, she reached inside and withdrew a box…and gasped.

It was the vintage Little People doll, the one she’d seen in the boutique, the one that hadn’t been for sale. Her throat tightened. Dominick must have paid a hefty sum to convince the owner to part with it. His comment yesterday about having a spending budget came back to her.

Not when it’s for something so special.

No matter how she tried, she couldn’t hate it. She’d simply have to find a way to reimburse Dominick for the doll.

Which was going to be hard, she acknowledged, since she’d also just lost her best client.

When she slid the box back into the bag, she noticed a small envelope with “Vee” written on it in Dominick’s bold handwriting. She pressed her lips together, telling herself she didn’t care about anything he had to say.

Then she glanced at the doll. He’d bought it before their confrontation this morning. That had to mean something didn’t it? Then she released a dry laugh.

Maybe that he was feeling guilty, the jerk.

She pressed her lips together, then slid her thumb under the flap of the envelope. It was a simple white Christmas card with a dove on the front—almost…romantic.

Vee, it isn’t world peace, but I hope this gift makes you smile. Dominick



Her vision blurred. She had to hand it to him—the man was smooth. She could almost believe he was sincere. Just like when they were taking the classes…having sex…ice-skating. Miserable tears fell down her cheeks. Winslow whined, then licked her face, the dear dog.

“Maybe Patricia will let me adopt you when we get home,” Violet murmured. “Would you like that?”

She smiled, realizing it was nearly impossible to be sad when a dog was licking your face.

“Look,” someone yelled. “It’s snowing!”

Violet lifted her head and gasped. Sure enough, outside the window white flakes were falling fast enough to accumulate on the grass. It was over eighty degrees outside—how was it possible? She stood and went to the window, pressing her nose against it, awestruck. All around her, people exclaimed in wonder.