Mile High (Up in the Air #2)(70)

“Anyways,” she continued, “don’t be surprised if you see Jules and Parker’s parents and it’s a touch awkward. They have no notion of what’s actually going on.”

James sighed heavily. “I can’t say I’m looking forward to it. Perhaps I should have a word with them myself. The things she’s been telling the gossip mags is unacceptable.”

Sophia blanched. “Yes, you’re absolutely right, but I think Parker should be the one to speak to them about all of it. I’ll make sure he does that sooner rather than later.”

James nodded, but he did not look happy about it.

Sophia seemed to spot someone in the crush behind us. She kissed me on the cheek. “Please, you have to come have dinner at our house sometime. I promise the talk will be about more pleasant things.” I nodded rather stiffly before she strode away.

James watched her go, waving at whoever she was joining. I guessed it was Parker, though I didn’t turn to look. He studied me for a long time, looking solemn and a touch worried. “Are you okay, Love?”

I just studied him, my chest feeling tight and achy. “Jolene was your submissive,” I said, my voice very soft.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

His mouth tightened and his jaw clenched, but he didn’t look even a little surprised that I had guessed.

“Yes, she was. Past-tense. Please, let’s not talk about it here. I’ll tell you anything you want to know, but later.”

I thought of him doing all of the things that he did to me to that perfect creature, and I felt sick. How could I compete with someone so beautiful? And how could he want me for long, when he had a woman like that, still so obviously infatuated with him? The thought was daunting and demoralizing.

He gripped my nape firmly. My gaze had gone a little glassy with my thoughts, but I looked back at him squarely. His face was composed, but there was trouble in his eyes.

“Please don’t think like that,” he said, his voice quiet but pained.

I arched a brow at him. “You’re reading my mind now?” I asked him. I was only half-joking. The man had an uncanny ability to read me.

He sighed. “In a way. I could tell by looking at you that you were having doubts about us. About me. I can’t change my past, Bianca. All I can do is be honest with you, and I’ve done my best.”

I tried to make him understand. “I understand that. But understanding and feeling okay with it aren’t always the same. Your past, all of the other women…intimidate me. There’s no way I can compete with all of that.”

His eyes got a little wild at my words. His voice held a hint of cold anger when he spoke. “I’ve never asked you to. You have no competition for me, Bianca.” Someone should tell his ex-lovers that, I thought, but even as I had the thought, I knew it was petty.

He studied me, visibly calming himself in that mercurial way of his. “Let’s go dance,” he murmured, leading me in the direction of the ballroom.

“I really don’t know how,” I said to him, voice pitched low so I wouldn’t be overheard.

“It doesn’t matter. I want to show you something. Come.”

He led me purposefully into the ballroom, and onto the dance floor without further ado. He pulled me into a dance as though it were the most natural thing in the world. And it turned out to be just that. He led, and I followed. He held me close in his arms, barely a breath between us, and moved us as though we’d practiced a thousand times.

He murmured into my ear as he led us through the steps that turned out to be easy and natural. “You may not like my experience. But it has it’s uses. It made me see very early on that you and I are different.

This thing we have is different. Take this dance, for example. It comes so natural, the leading and the following, because you and I are so perfectly matched. And I knew it would. I had no doubts, and I was correct. That’s how it’s always been with you, Bianca. You are not experienced. And perhaps that’s why you can’t see how perfect we are together. Not how I see it, anyways. That’s why you need to learn to trust me. I’m sure of this, sure of us. I will endeavor to convince you as well, my love.”

I let him lead me through the dance, and it felt like a dream. He took control and it was magic. A heavy violin added a thread of melancholy to the dance, but it added emotion as well. I looked at him as we moved, but I could have closed my eyes, it came so naturally. There were times when I could let him take control, and it was perfect. I had thought that effect could only work in the beddoom, but apparently he dominated the dance floor as well.

“Oh, James,” I sighed, not knowing what to do with him. He was a force of nature. “This is all so fast. You overwhelm every part of me.”

I hadn’t meant to ruin the moment, but I felt him stiffen instantly at my words.

“That sounds ominous,” he said, his voice very low and carrying an almost imperceptible hitch. I wondered sadly if I had put the vulnerability in his eyes. If I was the reason for his oh-so-careful demeanor. But then I mentally chastised myself. I was giving myself too much credit. Perversely, the thought made me feel both sad and reassured.

He led me from the floor as the music died briefly. He ignored the music as it started up again, a slow, sensuous chord strong in the instrumental song. I just knew that I had darkened his mood.

“I need to use the restroom, James,” I told him quietly. Mostly I needed a moment to myself. I had only spoken the truth. I was utterly overwhelmed by him. Still, it hurt me to displease him, as I knew my constant reluctance did, and I needed a moment alone to compose myself. A wave of sadness rocked me.