Dressed in Yellow: BBW Contemporary Romance (5 page)

Chapter

5

She might have let it go. Her temper simmered, nearly boiled- but she might have let it go if he hadn’t walked into her shop, chest poked out like a bad cliché.

“Get out,” Aiva said, striding towards Daniel. “You sabotage my business then have the nerve to show your face?”

He smiled. “No sabotage. Just reminding you what your original goal was, remember? Independence. Self-determinism.”

Aiva never would have guessed he even knew the word self-determinism.

“That’s bullshit. You just don’t want Leon to upstage you.”

Daniel’s smile faded, mouth tightening. “I’ve got ninety-nine problems, but that prick ain’t one. I’m the man in my house.”

She stared at him, lip curled, hand on her hip. “You are no man, Daniel Losito. Do you hear me? You are lower than a street whore who sells her own children for crack.”

He hit her. The back of his hand connected with her cheekbone, his wide knuckles glancing off her eye. Aiva staggered back several steps, shocked, hand cupping her face. She heard a cry and whirled to see Mandira rushing from the back room, her face a study of rage. A vase clutched in her hands like a weapon. Aiva stepped in front of her, grabbing her shoulders.

“Don’t.”

“He
hit
you!”

“Let it go,” Aiva said, heart pounding. Mandira wasn’t part of the community, the family. No ties to the old country. If Mandira offended Daniel, he wouldn’t hesitate to retaliate. Her friend’s honor meant nothing to him- she had no family to demand redress of any insult.

“I’m not letting it go! I’m calling the police! Your father!” Mandira paused, cheeks flushed, eyes narrowing. And smiled. “
Leon
.”

“Mandira.”

“Yeah, Aiva, tell your girl to mind her own business before she gets some of the same discipline.”

It galled her. Bile rose in her throat, the heat of anger curling her nails into her palms. But she didn’t want Mandira hurt. She pushed and pulled the woman back into the storeroom.

“I’ll take care of it,” Aiva promised. “Just stay here.”

She approached her cousin, expression cold, walking right up to him so their noses almost touched. In her heels, they were of a height.

“That was a freebie,” she said softly. “But the next time you raise a hand to me, it better be to shoot me dead. Because I will come after you with everything I have.”

He sneered, but stepped back, casually. “Get those freakin’ protestors out of the street in front of my shop, Aiva. Next time I won’t ask so nice.”

Her fury simmered through the day and into the evening. When she went home, the first thing she did was pour herself a glass of wine to calm her nerves. Soothe her temper. She refused to look at herself in the mirror. Her fingertips could feel the bruised flesh- seeing it would only goad her into doing something that would be foolish. If she were going to war with Daniel, a confrontation of sheer strength would go in her favor. She would have to use patience, wit.

The doorbell rang. Aiva whirled, wine sloshing on her hand, wondering who in the hell was bothering her. She didn’t want visitors. She wanted to stew in her own temper and eat cake. When it rang again, insistently, she stomped to the door and flung it open with her free hand.

Leon took one look at her face, smile slipping from his lips. He stepped into her home, slamming the door closed, took the glass of wine from her limp fingers. She was...surprised to see him. She’d all but burned bridges, refusing his offer of help. Aiva hadn’t expected him to call her again, much less show up at her house.

“Who?”

“Huh?” She couldn’t think past her surprise.

His jaw clenched. “Who hit you?” Fingertips brushed her cheekbone gently, a contrast to the cold fury in green eyes. Eyes gone reptilian with anger.

“I- no one. I mean-”

“Don’t lie to me.” His voice slashed her, his hands taking her wrists and pulling her body flush against him. He wrapped an arm around her waist, raising her chin so he could examine her face. “Don’t fucking lie to me. Who hit you?” He paused, and the sudden chill in his eyes almost frightened her. “A man, of course. Who? Is that why you don’t want my help? Is there someone else?”

“What? No!” Her mouth gaped a little. He sounded... jealous. Angry at the thought she’d gone to another man. “It was Dan-” Aiva clamped her mouth shut, belatedly. Damn wine. Even her teeth were beginning to feel loose. To distract him, she allowed her knees to collapse.

“I feel faint,” she said.

Leon lifted her, a feat that on a normal day would have dampened her panties. But today- her stress mitigated her response to a man strong enough to manhandle a curvy girl like her. He lowered her onto the white couch, placing her legs carefully closed, and pulling off her heels.

“Don’t move,” he said, returning from the kitchen a few minutes later with a dishtowel wrapped around ice cubes. “Here. You should have done this straight away.”

“I preferred the wine.”

Eyes hard like chips of jade glinted. “I’ll bet. He’s dead, you know.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Aiva knew better than to brush off the threat. Not with a man like this. He wouldn’t mention death just to blow off steam. “It’s just a-”

“He touched what belongs to me. Hurt what belongs to me.” Leon inhaled through gritted teeth. “
Marked
what belongs to me.”

“Lower your voice,” she hissed. “And didn’t we just break up this morning anyway?”

Leon stared at her. “
You’re
the mad one. You think your girly silliness in refusing my help is going to make me change my mind?”

On one hand, being referred to as girly made her feel young and pretty- but the ‘foolishness’ part could have been held back.

“Just chill out for me then, okay? I don’t need you going after my cousin. I don’t need a knight.”

He pulled her to her feet. “Fine. Go put some powder on. We’re going to dinner and I don’t want anyone to think I beat you. A man who hits women-” he cut himself off, shaking his head as he turned away.

Aiva walked on unsteady feet to the bathroom, washing her face and brushing her teeth. Reapplying fresh makeup and smoothing her hair. The skirt and blouse she was wearing would have to do. He was standing by the door, holding her purse when she emerged, an air of impatience about him. The intimacy, the familiarity of the gesture as he shoved the bag at Aiva touched something in her. She smiled at her, doubly amused when his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing. Let’s go.”

***

“If you didn’t want people to think you beat me, you shouldn’t have taken me out,” Aiva said, calmly spearing her fish.

Leon sat opposite her, expression dark, wine untouched. The surreptitious glances bothered him. She thought it was sweet, actually. She could think of several men who thought a bruise on a woman’s face was the perfect accessory to their own masculinity- Leon saw it as the opposite. As a weakness.

“Are you certain-”

“Yes.” Her reply was firm, gaze direct. “You want to marry me? Well, learn how to deal with my family.”

He snarled. “The bastard. Don’t worry. There are other ways.”

“As long as they don’t involve death or maiming.”

Leon smiled thinly. “Not literally, my dear. Business is another matter.”

She frowned, but let it go. Aiva knew she could only insist on his behavior up to a certain point. “You know- we’re supposed to have chaperones.”

Leon choked on a sip of wine. “He was serious about that?”

“What do you think?”

He grimaced. “Are you enjoying the fish?”

“It’s very good, thank you.”

“I’m glad.” He gestured at the server. “This place is an investment of mine. I’d take it personally if the food was bad.”

She snorted softly, continuing with her dinner.

“Allow me to order dessert for you. One of my favorites.”

Aiva listened with curiosity as he ordered, allowing the server to take her plate. She made it a point to never finish a whole plate- that way she could have a taste of everything without being greedy.

He watched her indulgently as a plate was set in front of her, her eyes widening as she dug into the sponge cake soaked with orange liqueur and covered in chocolate ganache. A whipped cream more on the savory side rested with the fluff of an angelic cloud in between the layers of sponge. She nearly moaned.

“Excuse me while I have a moment,” she said.

Green eyes caressed her face. “One day you’ll make those sighs for me. Soon.”

She froze, fork halfway to her mouth. “Leon- Mr. Sudano. I-”

“Are you frightened?”

Aiva’s dark eyes narrowed. “Of what? Sex? Don’t be ridiculous.”

His face was impassive. “If it’s not fear I see in your eyes, then what is it?”

“I don’t know you.” She put her fork down. “You- what you say you want from me. We’ve only just met.”

“Sometimes you know, Aiva.” He reached across the small table, lifted a lock of hair from her shoulder. The boat neck top she wore exposed enough creamy brown flesh to appetize any man. “And at my age
knowing
right away is a survival instinct.”

“I need time.”

His fingers caressed her cheek as they withdrew. “No one is rushing you, sweet.” He smiled, a little wry. “You’ll have plenty of opportunities in the future to tell me you have a headache. Come, we’ll have a nightcap at my place, then I’ll take you home. I’m tired of these people staring at me, thinking I’m a monster to mar such lovely skin.”

Somehow, she trusted him, despite his obvious desire. Despite his well known power. Aiva knew allowing him to take her to his home was a no-no. Where were their chaperones, anyway? But her curiosity, her growing desire and the way he made her feel- dainty, beautiful and cherished- softened her resolve to take things slow, remain at a distance. Evaluate with her head and not her heart, and body. It was so hard.

Especially when he escorted her into the modern townhome in the heart of the city center, leading her to the kitchen when stools sat around an island. On top the island lay a small black box.

“Open it,” he said, watching silently as she flipped open the lid.

Aiva’s breath caught. The bracelet was exquisite, the platinum filigree work ethereal, a myriad of tiny gems winking at strategic places. He slid it onto her wrist.

“Your first courting gift,” he said. “Wear it so everyone knows.”

She licked her lips. “Thank you.” And made the mistake of looking up at hm. His body, frozen, eyes trained on her mouth.

“I want something in return, Aiva,” he said.

“W-what?”

“A kiss. A simple kiss.”

Nothing would be simple about kissing him. And in his home there was nothing to stop him from overwhelming her with desire except his own conscience and her dwindling self-control.

But still she hesitated. Aiva knew her own value, knew the value of the mind and heart she would give to a man who would guard them properly. Didn’t want to fall into an affair because the man was charming and said all the right things and she began to fall in love with music- only to find later here was no substance.

“Just a kiss?”

He watched her steadily. “A kiss, a caress, whatever you want. This isn’t a romance novel, where I overwhelm you with my manly attentions.”

Her brow shot up. “You don’t read romance novels.”

He snorted. “And how do you think I learned about sex? Of course I read romance novels.”

Aiva knew he was messing with her. She didn’t know whether to be appalled, amused, or irritated. “You learned about sex because handsome, powerful, rich men are all horndogs.”

Leon leaned against the island, grinning. “Are you maligning my virtue? I don’t give it up just for anybody, Aiviana.” He leaned towards her, finger tracing her lips. “I’m waiting for someone special.”

“You’re no virgin.”

His dark brow rose. “No? Is that so impossible in this day and age? A man who saves himself for marriage?”

His lips touched hers, breath just slightly scented with the red wine from dinner caressing her mouth.

“It’s... unusual.”

Her eyes drifted shut, body shifting to fit to his own. He straightened, hands splayed across her waist, gently pulling her against him. Her hands wrapped around his biceps, the crisp cloth of his dress shirt the only thing between her touch and bare flesh.

As he kissed her, she felt the shimmering awakening of her body, the heat pooling low in her groin, the gentle throbbing of a clit that ached for his touch. Aiva arched into him, full breasts pressed against his chest, mouth opening wide to accept his tongue. His hand on her tightened, the muscle under her hands tensing as he sensed her sudden eagerness. He tore his mouth from hers.