The Sheikh's Virgin Bride(100)

“That I’d be tricked into coming into your apartment, all the while Bruno is nowhere to be seen? No thanks, Khabib; I’ve already seen how far my self-control got me with you.”

So, with a theatrical sigh, I left her there while I went upstairs to fetch Bruno. My fat little hot dog was on his back in the most hilarious of poses, as if he’d sensed I was going to be returning that very minute. Scooping him up, I hurried back to the elevator and returned back to the ground floor.

Inside the car, Lucy agreed to hold Bruno, who enjoyed himself immensely, rolling back and forth like a little worm on her lap.

After a few minutes, Lucy let out a peal of laughter. I turned to find her eyeing me amusedly.

“How do you get anything done with this little monster around?”

I grinned.

“Now you see why I don’t work from my well-planted home.”

She smiled.

“We’re almost there—you take a left then a right, then my apartment’s on your right.”

To my pleased look, she continued, “And yes, I’m perfectly aware just how bad an idea this probably is.”

Nothing, however, prepared us for what actually happened.

We were only a few feet in her flower-wallpapered living room, when a pug that was presumably Oscar burst out into the scene, barking up a storm. Bruno, for his part, let out a string of high-pitched yelps. Lucy stepped forward, but I put a hand on her arm.

“Give them a minute.”

And so, one, nerve-wracking, snarling minute we gave them. At the end of it, Oscar licked Bruno’s nose. Both dogs fell silent. With one great flop, Bruno plopped onto his belly, then rolled on his back. A second later, Oscar did the same. We laughed, and I clasped Lucy’s hand.

“Friends forever, it looks like.”

“Guess so.”

Silence, then, “What happens now?”

I held her hand tighter.

“It’s up to you. You know what I want.”

I drew her hand to my lips and kissed it. Then, my lips found their way to hers, my hands around her waist. Her skin felt so very soft, as if every inch of it was not covered in silk, but was silk itself. As my lips found their way to her neck, then her chest, her eyes opened. I nodded and drew back.

“You’re right. We missed dinner.”

As Lucy gaped at me, I continued “What sounds good to you? How about breakfast?”

Lucy shot me an incredulous look.

“For dinner?”

I nodded.

“You never got to experience how good my breakfasts are.”

As she giggled awkwardly, I continued.

“Please, we’ll have wine, too. I’m not some kind of barbarian.”

Still laughing, Lucy waved her hand in a gesture of agreement.

So, we went to the grocery store across the street, and I got all the ingredients I needed to recreate the breakfast I’d made her that she’d never gotten to eat, plus a nice bottle of wine.

After I’d cooked and plated the breakfast-dinner meal, we sat down at her kitchen table, the intermittent snoring of Oscar and Bruno taking the place of any ‘mood’ music.

We clinked our glasses of wine together, then enjoyed our breakfast-for-dinner feast. I couldn’t stop smiling at Lucy, and she met my irreverent grin with a pensive look.

“It’s strange.”

“What?”

“You seem like the last person I would have expected was bullied or had trouble fitting in.”

I nodded and shrugged.

“People change.”

“I know, it’s just…”

“What?”

Her gaze grew sad.

“I was bullied, too. There was a group of girls at school who liked nothing better than to torment me. It was around the same time my dad left, so I just…shut down.”

Her whole face was crumpled with a look I’d never seen before. I squeezed her hand.

“You’ve never mentioned your dad before.”

She nodded but still wouldn’t look at me.

“I don’t like to think of that time. Of him. The way he just left my mom and me. Or the way I just gave up—stopped going to school, stopped wanting to even get out of bed. My mom lost her first job because of having to take care of me, and ended up getting a worse one, which she got fired from recently. I’m better now, but I don’t like thinking of that time, that person who gave up.”

“You don’t seem like someone who’d give up easily, or someone who’d been bullied, either.”

Her smile was bitter.

“Don’t I? I don’t have your easy confidence or charm.”

I waved my other hand casually.

“Anything can be learned. Being bullied like that, I think, was the reason I strove and still strive to get along well with people. It was…”

I took another long swig of wine, drinking to the very bottom of my glass. I didn’t want to talk about it, not even think about it. But already the images were returning to my mind, spilling out of my lips.

“There was a group of boys who tortured me, too. Practically the whole class joined in, but these ones were the worst. One day, they cornered me on the schoolyard and beat me, in front of everyone, until I was bleeding, begging for them to stop. They didn’t stop. Not until the teachers came. They might not have stopped at all if not.”