Shock Therapy, page 13
Then she was in his arms. And though she must be a couple of inches taller than me without these precarious heels, he swept her off the ground and spun her in a circle before he put her back down and returned her hugs and kisses and proclamations of missing and pleasure at his sight with equal fervor.
Their sight together wasn’t such a pleasure to me. A resurgence of jealousy spiked. Next moment, it flatlined again.
This had to be Desideria. And no, this wasn’t such a foregone conclusion with this being her home and us being here to see her. The Desideria I expected to see had been around twenty when she’d had Damian. Moron mathematics made her around fifty-seven. This woman looked Damian’s age, at most a few years older, and the most fantastic early forties on record, too. I only guessed it was her by the uncanny similarity of her impact to Damian’s. It was brutal. And total.
She looked nothing like him. He’d once told me he was a replica of his father, with different eye color. The woman’s eyes were an olive shade I’d never seen in real eyes. And I was sure it wasn’t contacts. I was a veteran of those. They never provided anything near this crystalline luminosity. Her eyes had his incredible lashes though, but had different outlines, wide and dominating where his were almond and hypnotic. Her bone structure was another masterpiece if in a different pattern from his. The resemblance surfaced in the below-the-neck department. She was the epitome of femininity as he was of virility.
“And you must be Damian’s Calista! At last we meet! Bienvenidaquerida.”
I didn’t have time to brace before I found myself in as an exuberant an embrace as the one they’d shared, with me being the one almost lifted off the floor this time.
“Come in, come in mi preciosas. This is the happiest day I’ve had in years!”
And then I was swept between the two Latin forces of nature, my feet barely treading the intricately designed marble floors though the mind-boggling interior, passing by a Carara marble in-door fountain, beneath a stained glass dome, by a series of wall niches filled with exquisitely illuminated Greek statues until we reached a huge double door leading into a sitting room the size of a tennis court.
Desideria pushed us both in, closed the door then turned to us with an elated smile, a conspiring wink and clapped her hands in little-girl excitement. “Now I have you all to myself! I can’t believe you’re really here! Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve last seen you, Damian?”
Damian handed me down on a green and gold damask sofa before he sighed. “Four months and twenty five days.”
I had to blink to believe what I was seeing. Damian melting with such longing touched with genuine regret.
“And ten hours, querido. So cruel of you. But I forgive you since you bring me such a precious gift. Your Calista, at last.”
His Calista, again. What exactly had he told her about us? From their evident closeness, probably everything. I hoped for his sake he hadn’t gotten into specifics. Though with someone like Desideria, someone I sensed was no-frills, who had uninhibited-ness down to an art, she probably wouldn’t let him indulge in euphemisms and evasions. The very idea made me squirm. I must have more inhibitions that I thought. Or I just liked to keep my privacy and our one-on-one mystique.
But what was I doing assuming he had shared intimate info with her? If they hadn’t seen each since before Colombia, he hadn’t had the chance, anyway. He’d better not do it now he did!
But I could see just how Desideria had brought nine mega-powerful and lethal men to their knees in worship of her overpowering femininity and charisma. And boy, did I feel like a drab, dragged-through-the-mud tomboy in comparison. I was really starting to have self-worth issues for the first time in my life. How in hell could Damian find me sexy when he had Desideria as an example of what a woman should be like?
And the worst thing here? I was picking only bona fide goodwill from her. Dammit. Divine and downright nice.
“I can’t tell you how I longed to see you, Calista. I suspected it for a long time, but Damian only chose to tell me a couple of years ago that he had a woman in his life. He didn’t elaborate and has been keeping me in suspense ever since.”
So he hadn’t gone into specifics. Phew. But wait—a couple of years? Before he came back into my life for Russia? When he’d still been trying his best to hate me? He’d considered me the woman in his life back then? Or had he meant someone else?
The suspicion had me snapping a sideways glance at him. I found his eyes on me, the smile fixed on his lips in response to his mother’s presence and teasing offsetting their heavy brooding. No. He’d meant me.
I wondered if there was a maintenance medication for these acute jealousy attacks.
Desideria descended into a high-backed chair a foot from me with all the weightlessness and grace of a supermodel. “I really couldn’t visualize what this phenomenon who had Damian in such a tangle could look or feel like. But now I’ve seen you, I’m really confused.” Uh-oh. I didn’t pass the Mama Test. “Pardon me for being so clichéd, but you look like an angel.”
And wonder of wonders, I couldn’t detect any malice. I decided to disabuse her. “I’m definitely no angel, Ms.—er—Mrs.…”
“Desi, querida. Call me Desi.” She pressed my hand in insistence then came closer until her face was mere inches from mine, giving me a magnified view of her perfection. It had to have been a battery of masterful rejuvenation surgeries that had secured this astounding result. And I wasn’t being petty here. Time would never be this kind. Not that I thought surgery had done more that maintain her original assets.
I met her scrutiny, didn’t feel encroached on or compromised in any way, only her extreme interest and genuine need to fathom me coming through.
She pulled back with a satisfied sigh. “Ah, I see it now. It’s in your eyes. Intelligence to conquer armies, and flames to consume them to ashes.” Huh? Was she describing me? That was a spot-on description of her. “And you’ve chosen my Damian to focus your all on. No wonder he is in such a condition.”
Hey, even if she was way off-base, the woman was good for my ego. I looked back on Damian, my glance all ‘You heard that? Your mom said it!’. His smile only twisted in resignation.
“And now I’ve seen you, and more, now I’ve seen you together, I’m even more upset with Damian for depriving me of knowing you and basking in your shared passion before. Damian is such a tight-lipped, convoluted pain, isn’t he, querida?”
And to that I could only nod vigorously. Damian gave a theatrical sigh. And both Desi and me burst out laughing.
His sigh deepened. “I knew it was not my wisest move putting the two of you in contact. As if one of you isn’t unstoppable and uncontainable on her own. I’ve doomed myself.”
Our laughter boomed again at his mock-forlorn expression.
Desideria wiped tears of merriment from her sparkling-gem eyes. “Ah, Damian, we love you too much to ever cause you trouble. Too much of it, anyway.” She winked at me. “But what women would we be if we didn’t give our loved men some downs to make the ups look even higher, eh?”
“Ups and downs should be Calista’s middle name.” Damian nodded. “Or pinnacles and pits.”
“Hey!” I elbowed him. “Look who’s talking! Don’t believe him for a second, Desi!”
“I shouldn’t?” Her look was all come-on-we’re both-women-here. “You don’t keep him uncertain if he’s going or coming?”
I shook my head. “You’ve got the last woman on earth capable of any of that, Desi. I’m feminine-wiles deficient.”
Damian snorted. “Whatever you do have, it’s in abundance, it’s lethal and it’s constantly on. It makes no difference that you don’t know you have it or don’t mean to use it.”
Desideria nodded. “Sí. I can see how you’d be a hundred times more effective than any woman who consciously practices her wiles. Yours are genuine, spontaneous and involuntary. As Damian said, the lethal variety.”
I looked around. “Uh—you’re talking about me? I’m not an ophthalmologist but I can check your eyesight if you like.”
Her laugh rang out at my sarcasm. “My eyesight is perfect, querida. And so is my insight. How else do you think a girl born to a prostitute in Chicago’s slums could be sitting here today?”
OK. That was a bit of info Damian hadn’t imparted. Probably left it up to his mother to do it if she wanted. And she did. She was telling me where she came from. I felt this was her way of sealing the gulf her impossible privilege placed between us.
She now leaned and patted Damian’s knee. “I always knew you’d go for the hardest choice. So how are you coping?”
I had to intervene here. “Oh, sorry. If you’re asking him this, I must have it all wrong and he isn’t your son after all.”
Her easy laugh rose again. “He sure is. So, do I understand he is holding his own? Putting up a good fight? Keeping you on your toes, wanting more and totally involved in the game?”
“Oh, boy, is he!” Then I pulled a face at her. “But hey—it’s a game now? Let me guess, one you taught him?”
She continued her melodic chuckling. “If I passed on anything to Damian I must have done it in my genetic code.”
I nodded. “As a doctor I can fully concede that. Now I know where Damian got his razor-sharp smarts and addictively passionate nature-a direct infusion of superior genes from you.”
For that heartfelt comment, I got grabbed in strong female arms and kissed on both cheeks then hauled back in steel male ones and kissed senseless on the lips.
I lay stunned by those two amazing creatures’ passion, when Desi sat back and scrutinized the sight we made with Damian enfolding my barely coherent mass in his arms.
“I never thought any woman could measure up to my Damian. And that’s not just another’s foolish mother’s overestimation. But here you are. So tell me, Calista, what are your intentions towards my boy?”
I looked around again. “You have a boy? Where?”
Her smile conceded my evasion, her willingness to let me get away with it. Then she countered, “How about your intentions towards lunch?”
Relieved she’d so gracefully steered away from fraught ground, I answered in all eagerness, “Outright predatory. As lovely as the jet was, breakfast was barely visible to the naked eye. Didn’t do much for the naked stomach, either.”
She rose at once and beckoned us to follow, led us to a conservatory attached to the sitting room.
It was teeming with plants and free-flying birds. The most drool-worthy buffet I’d ever seen completed the Eden effect. After we loaded our plates, Damian seated us at the table Desideria had laid out for us then sat back throughout the meal, saying little, enveloping us in indulgence. I could feel it. How he enjoyed having the two of us in his sights. The two people, who according to him, meant everything to him.
And we gave him a good show, bantering and laughing and bouncing puns and jokes off each other. It was clear she was now in Damian’s total confidence about the nature of his work. I took his cue, gave her all the details she asked for about mine. She was sure taking our very unorthodox lines of business in her stride, showed a great deal of admiration and approval, too.
Then it was time to tell Desideria of our plans. Before we did, she declared she would do anything at all to help us, no matter what, always. After all, she had been doing all she could for Damian, for years. She’d always known what he did for a living, had only pretended not to, understanding his need to protect her, until he saw fit to tell her his secret agent career went far beyond what he’d let on at first.
Then she listened to our plans, shrewdness filling her eyes, eagerness, too. She agreed to everything we said, even added adjustments of her own. By the time lunch was over, I could believe she had brought dictatorships tumbling down.
Our discussions went on deep into the evening, and by the time she stood up to start putting our plans in motion, I was charged and elated and depleted by all the buzz.
I watched her undulate out of the room, and looked at Damian from my boneless position. “So we wait?”
“We may have to stay the night.”
“Oh, goody. I get to see the rest of this museum!”
In answer he scooped me in his arms, making me weightless, headed out of the room and into the deserted central hall.
“You providing elevator services around here?” I quipped, secretly thankful for his transportation. I didn’t feel up to ascending the winding stairs right now.
“Only for demonic angels.” He caught my lips as he ascended, making my world spin.
At the top of the stairs, he took me down a corridor triple my current condo’s size. He paused in front of a door, maneuvered it open with me wrapped around his neck. Crossing the threshold into the bedroom suite felt like stepping back into the Victorian age.
He walked up to a bed spread in deepest red, another of the dark solid colors he preferred. And I wised up.
“This is your suite.”
“It’s ours now.”
I struggled down to my feet, took a couple of steps out of reach. “I’d rather spend the night in another suite.”
He frowned. “You don’t like this one?”
“What’s not to like? I—I’d just like to sleep alone.”
He went still. His scowl disappeared, his face becoming the blank mask he was such a master at projecting. But he didn’t seem to have any intention of showing me to another suite. Oh, well, I’d just go to Desideria and petition for one.
I turned away and he rasped, “What’s this?”
I just kept on walking. I wasn’t explaining myself. I felt stupid enough I didn’t have to let him in on the secret.
“Is this about the trick I pulled with Anna?”
I swung around. “So it was a trick?”
His face went blanker. I was beginning to realize it was his way of reacting to unforgivable affronts.
So it had been a trick. Psychological warfare he’d gambled would work on Ed in his weakened state. That ‘with Anna’ bit even made me think he’d given her a pre-arranged secret signal, asked her to play along, and she’d fallen back into the habit of doing her leader’s bidding, even against her lover and herself.
“You’re just too convincing, Damian.”
He turned away and I raced back to him, hugged him from the back. “No, Damian. I didn’t think you’d kill her. Believe me.”
He snapped around, caught me in a flare of relief and passion. I squirmed in his arms. “I still want another room.”
He let go of me, hissed his rising aggravation, “Why? Another round of tug-of-war? Practicing those unconscious wiles? Maldita sea, Calista, what is it this time?”
“I dunno.” I fidgeted. I’d cornered myself. I had to give him something. “It’s knowing Desideria is around, I guess.” Then fool that I was, I added, “And Desideria herself.”
His incredulity was one for the books. “You’re going prudish on me? Not with my mother in the house? A house this size? And even if it was a one-bedroom condo…” Then he frowned as my addition sank in. “And what about Desideria?” Disappointment darkened his face, driving a skewer through me. “Dios, you’re too convincing. I sat there watching you talking each other’s heads off and had no doubt that you liked her.”
“I do.” At his headshake I blurted out my insistence, “I do!” Oh, hell. Just tell him. “I know it’s stupid, but with her around, I’m not feeling very feminine. And not at all sexy.”
He stared at me for one more moment. Then he burst out in peal after peal of debilitating amusement. “Ah, mi alma, mi vida, perdoneme. But you’re hilarious.” Laughing harder, he reached for me. Fuming, I struck his hands down.
“Yeah, I’m a regular clown.” I swatted his seeking hands away again and again. “What kind of pervert wants one?”
He caught me to him with one hand, cupped my face into the other. “Desideria’s screaming femininity dented your ego, sí?”
Making fun of me, was he? I was so bringing him down.
I latched onto him in my favorite nagewaza judo throw, the kouchi geri, reaping one of his legs from the inside, following by a frontal lunge, taking him down.
But he didn’t just go down. He went down in a ma sutemi waza direct sacrifice fall, lodging his foot into my middle, using the force of his fall and my momentum to throw me over him and onto the bed in a wide cartwheel. Then he rebounded to his feet, pounced on me and wrestled me spread-eagled beneath him.
“You know you still have your teeth because this isn’t a real fight, don’t you?” I hissed once we both stilled.
“It’s in your best interest not to damage my teeth, to protect them at all costs. Just think of all the things I’ll do to you all night using them.” He nibbled his way down my neck to one nipple, made a feast of it through my shirt and bra.
Pleasure stabbed a spear from his teeth to my core, ripping a moan all the way from down there. I bucked, to contain the pain and his erection, wanting him inside me, thrusting me into oblivion. He throbbed a furrow into my stomach, grinding his equal need. But I still needed to make sense of it. It was the damned scientist in me, needing all the whys and wherefores.
“Just why do you want me, Damian?” I panted. “Is it because I’m the hardest choice, as Desi said? You’re addicted to conquering the impossible and I’m the one who can provide that, since all women throw themselves at your feet? But I’m not impossible anymore. So—what happens now?”
He rose on both arms, still simulating the act we were both disintegrating for, groaned, “You think now you decided you loved me, you’ve removed the challenge and I’ll cool down? What happens if I do? You’ll shrug and walk away?”
“Yeah, right after I kill and quarter you.” Damn. That sounded right out of Obsessive Psychos’ Handbook Of Romantic Quotes. “Uh—that came out wrong…”
He threw his head back and his laugh inundated me in a new breaker of arousal. “Madre de Dios, don’t take it back. That’s the best thing you’ve ever said to me, mi vida.”
