THIRTY-TWO - Alana

THIRTY-TWO

Alana

Unease stirs through me, leading to that prickling sensation of impending conflict. Even though Cal is in front of me, dishing up two plates from paper takeout cartons for an incredibly late dinner, it's Thorn at the root of my disquiet. He won't take kindly to knowing I'm here with one of the Sokolov brothers. Yet who is he to judge?

Not that it matters. Everything I know about Thorn tells me that he would never respect a boundary that he himself hasn't set.

There are plenty of security personnel outside of Cal's high-tech, one-level home on the outskirts of Silicon Valley, but it would've been rude to insist that anybody come inside.

I promised my father I would try to help Aquarius Social, and I am doing just that.

Cal appears to be on his best behavior as well. For our casual date, he's wearing dark jeans and a green cable-knit sweater, making him look like a handsome Ryan Gosling at home in his own kitchen. Unsurprisingly, amethysts adorn his expensive looking wristwatch.

I'm wearing a simple aquamarine-colored top and skirt set with rose quartz earrings and a diamond pendant. I purposely left my phone in the car.

"This is nice," Cal says as he pulls out his chair and sits. "I ordered from the Sharp Palate—I hope you like beef." He frowns, as if realizing he should have checked whether I'm a vegetarian or vegan.

"I do," I say, looking at the Wagyu beef burger.

"Oh, good." He smiles. "I ordered them both with melted aged cheddar, truffle aioli, caramelized onions, and arugula. The brioche bun is supposed to be the best." He points to the rosemary garlic fries. "And these are legendary."

"Wonderful," I say, taking a knife and cutting my burger in half, feeling off-balance. The nice act from him puts my teeth on edge.

He takes a big bite of his and chews before setting it down. "I have tiramisu for dessert." Reaching over, he pours a thick red cabernet into our glasses.

I take a look at the bottle. It's a Screaming Eagle Cab. "It's one of my favorites." I lift my glass and let the wine's scent fill my head, and then I sip. This vintage truly is delicious. "The wine's excellent."

"Good. I'm glad." Cal stares at my breasts and then jerks his gaze up to my face again. "I don't know about you, but my family has been on me about this whole merger thing, and now Hendrix seems interested in you, too, so the sooner we reach an agreement, the better. You do not want to end up with that guy."

I sample the fries. They explode on my tongue, and I make a mental note to remember this restaurant; I haven't tried it before. "I've been thinking," I say. "What if we reach a contractual agreement to work together to enhance both of our servers? I know I could speed up your user interface time, and we'd love to add some sort of holographic element to our emotional-intelligence platform."

He takes another bite. "Yeah, I already talked about that with my brother, and he said he wants marriage on the table. There's nothing that binds two families together more strongly than marriage—and, of course, shared grandchildren."

He's being so nice. Why? What's up with him?

My stomach drops. I don't want to have kids with Cal, much less tie my life to his. Plus, I have this thing going on with Thorn. I can admit to myself that there's a lot there; and if it's possible to have fallen in love in one weekend, I did it. Yeah, he's a complete jackass, and my body is still sore from his last lesson. We'll probably end up killing each other, but being with any other man just doesn't seem right. I frown.

"What's wrong?" Cal asks.

"I was just thinking. You don't seem too angry that I spent a few days with Thorn."

Cal waves a hand. "No, I was kind of being a jerk about the whole hymen thing. It's a good thing Thorn broke you in. I mean, who really wants a virgin? Hopefully he taught you a few things."

I cough up wine and rapidly wipe my mouth. So much for his nice-guy routine.

He nods, either not knowing or not caring what an ass he's being. "I do like the idea of taking what Thorn thinks is his, and I love the idea of getting you so my brother can't. He has a thing for brunettes with a lot of hair. Don't know why."

"I'm not a possession." I no longer want the burger.

"Sure you are." Cal polishes his off and swigs down his wine before pouring himself another glass.

The more he speaks, the more I smell scotch. Did he start drinking before I arrived? I guess I don't really care, but I mean, come on.

"Would you like dessert now?" he asks.

"No thanks. Not yet. Let's revisit that crazy thought that I'm an object to be possessed." Yet isn't that what Thorn says? That I'm his? That he owns me? I still have bite marks across my flesh from his possession. Irritation climbs up my spine.

Cal reaches over to take my hand. "We're a done deal. You're the face of Aquarius as I am for Hologrid, and while other people don't realize how hard it is to influence, you and I do."

"I also work at the company." And charge the crystals, but that's a state secret. I figure his older brother charges their amethysts.

"Sure. For now, anyway. Come on, let's go sit in the living room, where it's more comfortable." He pulls me up.

I stand, allowing him to keep my hand. His is warm and bigger than mine, but not nearly as strong or firm as Thorn's. There has to be a way to merge professionally and not personally.

We walk inside, and I find his living room is anything but comfortable. It's all sharp angles, fierce glass, and what looks like incredibly hard black leather chairs and sofa. I nearly jump out of my skin when I look at the windows and see the argyle pattern made out of shiny silver metal. The crisscrosses make my stomach lurch and I look quickly away. He draws me over to the sofa. "Do you have a library?" I ask.

"No. Why in the hell would I have a library?" He settles us both on the sofa.

I really need to get out of here. "Listen. Marriage is off the table, but we can still work together."

"We're a done deal," he repeats, yanking me onto his lap.

I push against his chest, my legs falling on either side of his hips. He pulls me close and I yelp when my sore pussy hits his erection.

Ignoring my struggles, he yanks me closer and kisses me. Hard.

My mouth is apparently also sore. I push against him, trying to get free, panic climbing through me. I don't want to get close to him.

Cal moans into my mouth and reaches for the zipper at the back of my dress. Whoa. I finally shove him hard enough he releases my mouth. He's panting. His nostrils are flared, and deep crimson colors his hands and face.

"Let me go, you asshole." I push against Cal's chest and try to slide off his lap.

He clamps both hands on my hips. "No. Beathach might've gotten here first, but I'm here now. I'll make you forget him."

I let out a slightly hysterical chuckle before I can stop it. "That's impossible. Even if I don't see him for a hundred years, I will never forget him." Is it possible what Thorn said is accurate? That he broke me and put me back together so that I can only fit with him? Or maybe he's who I've always been searching for. I have to get off this guy's lap. "Cal, it's not going to happen between us romantically, so how about we come up with a better solution? We're prepared to sign a contract that will be mutually beneficial for both companies."

"No. It's marriage." He kisses me again, this time even harder. "You're suffering from Stockholm Syndrome. Forget Beathach."

I try to evade him, panic catching me as he squishes my lips and shoves his tongue back into my mouth. Left without a choice, I punch up and nail him beneath the jaw.

His jaw snaps and his head goes back. I scramble away, falling to the side and rolling off the sofa before coming up. He's there before me and strikes out, hitting me beneath the right eye. Pain explodes across my cheekbone and I fly over the coffee table to land on the hardwood floor, the breath knocked out of me.

I roll until I smash into the fireplace. Panicking, I push myself up on all fours.

Cal kicks me in the side and I fly up before plummeting back down.

"What are you doing?" I gasp, turning to sit, and then crab-walk back against the wall.

His face is an orange red and his eyes are bugging out. "You're turning me down? Me?"

I somehow missed this. "It isn't personal." Are my ribs broken? My entire right side feels like he's wearing steel-toed boots. A quick look confirms that they're regular tennis shoes. I look around for a weapon, trying to appear defenseless. Actually feeling rather defenseless. "People know I'm here, Cal."

His fists slowly relax.

I speak soothingly as if trying to calm a wild animal. Perhaps he's on something? But our conversation at dinner was just fine. "I think this is just a huge misunderstanding."

He blinks several times as if coming back into himself. "Oh, shit. You're right." He holds out a hand and I barely keep from wincing. Clutching my rib cage, I accept his hand and stand, half expecting him to punch again. He looks at my face. "You okay?"

"Sure. I'm fine." I smile and force my arm to my side before giving a fake chuckle. "This is a date for the record books." I snort as if we're sharing the best joke ever. "Things got out of hand, but I assume that's normal for those of us in the public eye." I have no idea what I'm saying at this point and really want to run for the door.

He leans down. "Oh. That's going to bruise." He frowns.

I wave a hand as if it's no big deal. "Dude. I bruise all the time. I've been taking this boxing class, and as you can tell, I'm not very good at it." I barely keep myself from looking at the door and try to appear relaxed.

He winces. "I don't want your dad to think I hit you."

What's the alternative? He shoots me and dumps my body in the backyard?

I slap his arm as playfully as I can, wondering how close my bodyguards are right now. They're probably in the damn car. "I don't know about you, Cal, but I don't tell my father anything. I'm a grown-ass woman, and he doesn't need to know my business."

His expression relaxes. "Good point. I don't tell my brother or mom anything, either. They're all into responsibility and have no idea what it takes to be the chief influencer."

"Totally agree." I wonder if his family knows about his temper problem.

He's taller than I thought as he towers over me. Odd that I think of the way Thorn is even taller, yet I feel safe in the shadow he casts. I'm nowhere near safe right now.

"What are we going to do about the wedding?" Cal asks.

I pause, not sure how to play him. "I don't know. What do you think?"

"I think we should get married." He's frowning again.

I purse my lips as if not sure what to do. "You really think the thing with Thorn is Stockholm syndrome?"

"Yes," Cal says instantly.

I look down at my feet and see a lump forming on my ankle. Did I hit the coffee table on my flight across the room? "Maybe I should see a shrink about the Thorn problem?"

"Yes." Cal pats my shoulder and nods wisely. "Why don't you make a few appointments, and in the meantime, we can attend the Silicon Shadows and Secrets Ball together? My brother will see us together and give up his campaign for you. Then we can plan the wedding?"

I believe I already have a date to that ball. Even so, I continue to look sad and confused. "I'll meet you there. It's a nice start, and the platform-user numbers will go through the roof for the two of us." Might as well appeal to his business side, if he has one. Trying to walk normally and not limp, I reach for my purse on the end of the sofa. "Thank you for dinner. That was truly delicious."

"Any time." He walks me to the door and opens it. "I'll see you again."

I nod and smile, turning to walk sedately toward my town car. The security guys step out, and I manage to wait until I'm safely inside before I burst into tears.