Behind the Lyrics by Melissa Riddell
Chapter 13
Angela Morales
I’m out of my damn mind. Was I really going to go on a…a dinner date with Viktor? Had I become so lonely and desperate I’d let one of the most irritating men in the world take me out for a bite to eat?
I rifled through my closet, finally opting for a gray hoodie and a distressed pair of jeans. If he thought I’d dress up for his ass like all those bimbos he normally hung around with, he had another think coming. After slipping on the ugliest pair of sneakers I owned, I ran a brush through my hair, deciding to leave it down, then spritzed a squirt of my favorite perfume. I might’ve appeared as a reject of society, but that didn’t mean I had to smell like one.
Or maybe you want to make sure Viktor enjoys your scent. I grabbed that subconscious voice around the throat, shoved her into a filing cabinet in my mind, and slammed it shut. No, I just don’t want to stink. Nothing wrong with that, right? She didn’t answer.
Knock, knock.
“Angel, I don’t want to alarm you, but it seems there’s a rather large crowd gathering outside your door.” There was smugness in his voice, as if he were trying to hide his pleasure and doing a poor job of it. “I’ve texted my driver and bodyguard for reinforcements, but if we want to get out of here in one piece, I’d suggest you hurry before the wankers decide to take matters into their own hands—specifically, me.”
“What?” I threw the hoodie over my head, shimmied it on then yanked the knob.
Standing in the doorway, he gave me a quick once-over. His lips turned downward then he met my gaze. “You really outdid yourself, eh?” He fingered the bright-red tie hanging down his chest then worked at the knot. “Well, you know what they say…” A small line formed between his eyebrows.
“What who says?” Seeing the slight annoyance on his face tickled me for some odd reason.
“If you can’t beat them”—the silky material slid from around his neck, and he looped it around the nape of mine and tugged me closer—“join them.” His amber eyes smoldered as he fixated on my lips.
I didn’t fight his pull. Instead, I leaned into it, my curiosity and desire becoming a solar flare shooting into space.
His breath caressed my chin as his mouth lowered until only half an inch of space separated his lips from mine. I was drowning in his essence, unable to take a deep breath or move away.
Being this close to him didn’t cause me anxiety, but I was conflicted. On one hand, I wanted to run screaming because there was no way I should find him attractive, but on the other, my feminine side perked up and enjoyed the way he looked at me, like I was the most precious thing in the world.
Even though Viktor Farrow confused the hell out of me, there was something about him—a charisma or larger-than-life presence—tempting me with ideas and daydreams of what it would be like to feel his hands and tongue on my naked skin.
His eyelids dropped lower as he angled his head to the side, stopping just shy of brushing the corner of my mouth with his. Warm breath and a hint of minty sweetness floated into my nose.
My heartbeat hammered through my blood, curled in my chest, and pulsed between my ears. The saliva in my mouth dried, and to my horror, I set my hand on his shirt’s satiny material and slid my palm across his tight pecs, craving contact with him.
“Perhaps I was hasty in my assumption you were made of ice,” he whispered.
The ice queen reminder, a slap in the face, snuffed out whatever the hell I’d been feeling. “You’re an ass.” I jerked from him and clenched my jaw.
His gaze widened, and he slowly straightened. “Was it something I said?” Though his tone was light, there was an undercurrent or edge just underneath. He ran a hand through his beard and drew a deep breath.
Had I seriously been entertaining the idea of hanging out with this jerk? Giving in to him would’ve been no different than calling up Jeff and falling into that rut again. No thanks. I enjoyed my independence, even if I was dirt poor and lonely sometimes.
“You know, it’s really late. I’ve changed my mind about tonight.” I rubbed my arms through the hoodie’s soft sleeves. In the evening, the desert cooled rapidly, and my heated blood chilled with the temperature drop.
Marky stalked into the bedroom and weaved around my legs, letting out a soft meow. His big, orange eyes glanced at Viktor. With a sniff to one of his shiny, expensive-looking boots, Marky shook his tail, backed up, and sprayed Viktor’s shoe.
“Oh my God.” I swatted the cat. “No, Marky, no.” I’d been meaning to get him neutered over the next couple of weeks, but I’d been so busy…
“Motherfucker.” Viktor stumbled backward into the hallway, a sneer marring his otherwise handsome features. Shaking his foot and putting a hand against the wall to steady himself, thunder crossed his face, turning those gentle brown eyes cold and hard. “That little bastard just took a bloody piss on me.” The outrage sent his voice to a higher octave.
A laugh bubbled out of me, and he glared, compressing his lips, and giving angry twists with his ankle as if to shake off the pee.
I snatched Marky into my arms before the angry rock god decided to murder my little buddy, and ran to the living room, holding in my giggles as much as possible.
The look on his face… Priceless.
A quick crack of the door, and I tossed the cat out, but not before I got a glimpse of several more women milling outside, leaning against the railing and whispering with one another, throwing hopeful glances toward my apartment.
At my appearance, they perked up and smiled, rushing forward.
Marky ran through the crowd and disappeared around a corner. There was a courtyard of sorts in the middle of the complex, and he usually did his business there—when he wasn’t peeing on rock-star shoes.
“Hey,” the cherry-red lipsticked girl said. “We just want to say hi to Viktor. We know he’s in there—”
I shut the door, locked it, and searched for my uninvited guest.
The women pounded on the wood for a few seconds then gave up.
Viktor stood in the kitchen, wiping his boot with a wet paper towel, and cursing under his breath.
“Whew. Something stinks.” I tried to hide my grin but failed.
“Are you sure that little demon’s a cat?” He bent his knee, raised his leg, and propped the sole of his shoe against the edge of the sink. Scrubbing with hard, angry jerks, his fingers worked quickly. “I’ve never been pissed on before.” He paused the cleaning and frowned. “Well, at least not by a cat.”
“Ugh. TMI.” It really did smell. Marky had never sprayed in the house, so I didn’t understand why he’d done it. “He’s never peed in here. Not sure what came over him.” I gave a half-hearted shrug. “Sorry.”
“Well, I certainly can’t go out now, anyway.” His spine rounded as he leaned closer to give his shoe a sniff. “Absolutely disgusting. I’ll have to throw these in the rubbish bin.”
I raised my eyebrows. Maybe I should’ve taken more pity on him, but there was something eloquent and poetic about my cat peeing on this man who thought so highly of himself.
“Well, like I said, it wasn’t a good idea to go out.” I faked a yawn and patted my mouth. “Marky’s a pretty good judge of character, though.” I rarely had company, but Viktor didn’t have to know that. “Guess he found you lacking.”
I couldn’t lie to myself and say I wasn’t attracted to Viktor, so the best way to avoid temptation? Stay as far away as possible. My life, without any complications, was tidy and neat. Maybe a bit lonely, but it beat dealing with someone who blacked out the night before and wouldn’t take responsibility for their actions the next day, like Jeff.
I shuddered and pulled the hoodie tighter. No, I do not need another man in my life.
Viktor tossed the dirty paper towels into the trash can under the counter, then washed his hands under running water. His head twisted to the side to stare at me.
“Well, if you wanted me to leave, that was certainly the way to do it.” He pulled the faucet handle downward and dried his hands on his jeans, giving his boot another disdainful glance. “I’ve always been more of a dog person, and this reaffirms why.”
I probably should offer to replace his shoes, but man, they look like designer boots or something. Probably cost an arm and a leg. “I-I’ll replace your shoes. I really am sorry he did that.”
Viktor stepped toward me until less than a foot remained between our bodies. “Angel.” He gave a cursory glance at the kitchen then moved his gaze down my hoodie, probably seeing the frayed drawstrings. “These are Italian-made and cost more than you probably make in a year.”
I’d never felt more self-conscious or destitute. The earlier desire dwindled to a dull coal under imaginary ash.
“Wow.” I snorted. “I knew you were a womanizer, a druggie, and an ass, but I had no idea you were an elitist, too.” Pointing to the door, I squared my shoulders and lifted my head. Sure, I was poor, but even if I had a fat bank account, I’d never make someone feel shitty for having less. “Leave, Viktor. Go back to your posh hotel or wherever the fuck you’re staying and get out of my life.”
“Wait.” He took a step back, as if I’d slapped him, and rubbed his forehead, closing his eyelids for a moment. “I’m sorry. I—”
“Out. Now.” Rage simmered under my skin, and my finger shook.
He reached toward my arm, but I twisted away and stalked to the door, unlocking the chain and deadbolt. “I’m not kidding. Don’t come back.”
With a slow walk, he moved into the living room, letting his shoulder brush mine. “What makes you think,” he murmured near my ear, “that I’d want to come back?”
Something in the way he said this twisted my heart a little.
A low buzzing broke the silence between us.
One hand on the doorknob, he pulled the phone from a pocket. “What is it?” he growled. Silence for a moment. “Understood. I was just leaving.”
Good riddance. An urge rose within to say this out loud, but I squashed it. No sense in making a bad situation even worse.
He gave me the side-eye, his cold gaze softening as he scoured my face.
I raised my eyebrows and gave a little wave. “Adios, cabrón.”
The skin around his eyes tightened, and his lips parted.
Some of my anger dissipated. He’s probably wondering what I just called him. Asshole seemed pretty fitting to me.
A quick, loud knock came from the other side of the door.
Viktor yanked it open.
A large man in a business suit stuck his head through the opening. “Come on, boss. We need to go. There’s a media van pulling up.”
With a tight-lipped smile, Viktor left without another word.
I breathed a sigh, but I wasn’t sure if it was a sigh of relief or a sigh of regret.
Thank God this day’s over. I don’t think I can handle another moment of Viktor Farrow.