Exposed to You (29 page)

I sprayed his leg.

“Oh, Amy.” He shook his head disapprovingly as he
approached, his eyes darkening. “Now you’re going to be sorry.”

Dallon lunged at me and I squealed, releasing the hose.
The spray head hit the ground and water shot everywhere. Calmly, he marched
through the spray, turned off the faucet before picking up the spray head.

“I should fuck you with this,” he said, examining it
thoughtfully.

I gasped, and he smirked.

“No?” Chuckling, he put it back in its holder, and I
breathed a sigh of relief that didn’t last long. He strode toward me and I
backed up, my pace matching his, until I was pressed against the vanity.

Then, as if emerging from a trance, he halted directly
in front of me, trailed delicate fingers along my jaw.

“But I won’t. You’re lucky,” he murmured, his blue eyes
on my lips, which parted as I began to breathe again. “This isn’t about that.”

I blinked, surprised.

“Besides, the sun will only be up for a few more hours,
and I don’t want you to miss it.”

With a wink, he turned and walked out of the bathroom.

***

“I actually wanted to attend SCAD, but I knew that my
parents would turn the idea down,” I told Dallon as we walked hand-in-hand
through the historic district. “Not that I’m complaining about NYU. I love
living in New York.”

“This city has such old world charm.” Dallon paused to
snap a picture of a wrought-iron gate encircling a garden of flowers, a stone
fountain at its center. A brick staircase led up to the red door of the
townhouse.

“Why don’t you display any of your photographs?”

He took my hand again and continued walking. “I
decorated before I got into photography. I haven’t changed anything around.”

“We should put some up.” I bit my lip and heated,
realizing how presumptuous that sounded. “I’m sorry. I mean, it would be nice
to see your work.”

He grinned and squeezed my hand. “Perhaps we will.”

Two college-aged girls passed us, both of their heads
turning to watch Dallon. He continued to look straight forward, but there was a
trace of a smile on his lips. Jealousy rose unbidden within me even though I
knew he must be used to it.

“It has old world charm but it’s funky too,” I said,
eyeing the Vespa’s and cruiser bicycles parked outside of shopSCAD, a store
that sold designs, jewelry and art by SCAD students.

Next we moved on to Forsyth Park, where we walked
through a canopy of oak trees draped in Spanish Moss. Dallon insisted that I
stand in front of the marble fountain for a picture. To my surprise, he passed
an elderly couple his camera, and then jogged into the photo with me. His arm
tightened around my waist and I couldn’t help it—I grinned like a schoolgirl.

Dallon was brilliant and gorgeous, and he wanted me. Not
only that, but he was willing to give me his most valuable possession: his
time.

“Let’s go for dinner by the river,” he said, lifting my
hand to his lips to kiss it before helping me navigate the steep staircase and
then the cobblestone street. The sun was beginning to set and a Riverboat was
docked along the walkway’s edge.

“Can I borrow your camera please?” I asked.

I snapped a picture of the boat with the Savannah Bridge
behind it. When I handed the camera back to Dallon, he made a low whistle.

“Why Miss Clair, you do have a good eye.”

***

Dallon adored Italian as much as Seafood. It was another
piece of the Dallon puzzle.

At dinner he ordered us the Steamed Mussels in a Korean
Chile Broth as an appetizer, himself the Seafood Linguini, and me the Mahi
Mahi.

I frowned. “I wanted the Seafood Linguini too.”

“We’ll share. I want you to try it.”

I bit my tongue and picked up my $25 glass of wine.
Dallon hadn’t batted an eye at the menu. What would it be like to have that
kind of money, I wondered.

When the Mahi Mahi came, I had to admit that it was
pretty good.

“I’m glad you like it. I prefer to eat fish.” He exhaled
a deep, shuddering breath. “I watched a documentary on slaughterhouses, and the
cruelty rocked me.”

“I’ve heard.” I looked down at my food, feeling guilty
for not taking more of an interest in what was going on in the world. “Is that
part of the reason you started your animal shelter?”

“Partly, yes. I also witnessed animal cruelty as a
child, and I resolved to do something about it. I created the shelter before I
received the inheritance, but most of the money was donated to it afterward.
Since then, I’ve been considering expanding the foundation or else starting a
new one. I have a few ideas in mind. I’d like to tell you about them sometime.”

I could tell from his last sentence that he didn’t want
to get into it right now, so I reached across the table and took a bite of his
linguini.

“This is delicious as well!”

He grinned. “Glad you’re enjoying yourself, Miss Clair.”

As we walked back to the hotel hand-in-hand along River
Street, Dallon asked, “Where would you go if you could anywhere in the world?”

“Wow, that’s a tough question.” I thought for a moment,
navigating the cobblestones carefully. “I’ve never thought about that before.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve never been good at those games. I feel like if I
let myself dream then I might get disappointed.”

“Dreams keep us going,” he said, glancing up at me
disapprovingly.

“I have a dream about being a successful artist,” I said
defensively. “I just don’t like to think about things that will never happen.
You know how people talk about what they would do if they won the lottery? I
never think about it.”

“Because you don’t think you’ll win.”

“Yes. It makes me uncomfortable.”

We entered the hotel and stepped into the elevator.
“Well where would you go?” I asked him.

He smiled sadly. “I don’t tend to think about traveling
because I don’t really have the time.”

“And you’re lecturing me?”

He laughed. “Okay, I’d go to Africa. On Safari.”

I sighed. “That would be nice.”

We were silent as the elevator made its ascent to the
top of the building. With a ding, the doors opened to our floor.

“Time’s up,” Dallon winked. “Where would you go?”

“I just said Safari would be nice.”

“Where would you go, Amy,” he repeated, his voice taking
on an edge.

I sighed as Dallon swiped our room key. “Australia.”

Dallon smiled smugly. “Done.”

Before I could register what he’d said, he pushed open
the door and strode into the hotel room. I scrambled after him, clumsily taking
my shoes off out of habit. I found him in the study where he’d left his cell
phone for the afternoon.

“Just send me available packages during High Season,” he
was saying into the phone. “October or November, maybe. I want to go when it’s
warm.”

He glanced up when I entered and winked. “For two.”

My heart leapt as I realized what he was up to. The
person he was speaking to must have sounded surprised as well because he
repeated, “Yes, two seats. I’m going on vacation, Madeline. With my
girlfriend.”

Madeline
… I’d heard that
name before. His receptionist.

“Thank you.” He ended his phone call, his smile fading
when he saw my expression. “What?”

“Two things. Your receptionist works on the weekend?”

He scowled. “When there is a need for it, yes.”

“That need being that it’s nearing the end of our day?”

His lip twitched. “Clever girl. I’m taking you to
Australia. End of story.”

“You’re taking our agreement to a whole new level.”

He crossed his arms, leaning back against the desk.
“Have a seat,” he said and motioned to the armchair across from him.

I crossed my arms as well but sat, kicking my feet onto
the coffee table one at a time. Again, his eyes traveled along my bare legs to
where the short skirt of my dress ended near the top of my thighs. I glared at
him.

“I have a job now.”

“You have vacation time. You don’t work in a sweatshop.”

“No,” I relented, “but I do have to visit my parents at
some point.”

He waved his hand vaguely. “We can do that on a long
weekend. I’ll pay the extra cost.”

I put a hand on my forehead and sighed. “It’s not about
the money. At least, not the way you think.”

“What will it take you to understand that I want to
spend money on you? I can make your dream come true, but you won’t let me. Why?

I opened my mouth, closed it.

“Is it that you don’t want to go away that long with
me?”

“No!” I said quickly. “It’s not that at all, Dallon.”

“Then what do you need, Amy?”

I’d already tried explaining how I felt indebted to him,
so I tried something else. Maybe if there was more give and take, I’d be more
willing to accept what he needed.

“I want to know you too,” I said, remembering what he’d
said during one of our first conversations. “I want you to feel like you can
tell me anything.”

He frowned and made his way to the bar, poured himself a
glass of wine and handed me one. I could tell he wasn’t impressed because he
didn’t look me in the eye.

“I need that the way you need me to submit to you.”

He looked at me with hooded eyes. “So for you, being
confided in makes you feel loved and like the most important person in your
partner’s life.”

“Yes.”

He grunted and took a sip of his wine. “I’m a very
private person.”

“I know.”

“I’m afraid you might be disappointed.”

I bit my lip, considering how to proceed. “Would you
consider telling me how you ended up in hospital?”

His jaw tightened and he exhaled through his teeth,
leaned back against the desk again. “I don’t want to revisit that stage in my
life.”

“Fine.” I backed off, but he had been right; I was
disappointed. I stood and walked to the window. Tiki torches were lit around
the edge of the pool patio and people were cooking s ’mores over a fire pit.
Everything looked so peaceful and easy.

“I hated myself when I discovered who I am,” Dallon said
finally.

My eyes widened at this, but I didn’t flinch or turn
around. Somehow it felt easier for both of us to have this conversation without
looking at each other.

“I tried to return to my old ways, but I couldn’t. All I
could think about was… Well, doing what people like me do.” He sounded
miserable. When he spoke again, his voice was shaky.

“I tried to kill myself. That’s how I ended up in
hospital. I didn’t think the world needed another monster.”

I went to him, wrapping my arms tightly around him.
“You’re not a monster. Not even close. I’ve never felt safer than when I’m with
you.”

He didn’t hug me back. His arms hung limply at his
sides, and he was staring forward at nothing. “That’s sad.”

I flinched at his self-loathing tone. “No, it’s not. You
take care of me in every way.”

“At what cost?”

“No cost. Only benefit.”

I took his hand and pressed it to my lips the way he had
earlier. He squeezed mine slightly, the first sign that he might come back to
me.

“You’re a good person, Dallon. You’re generous and
protective. You started a shelter and you’re so good to Brendan. He worships
you.”

“Thank you.” It was stated as a whisper. He was staring
straight forward as if lost in his thoughts. When his phone rang, we both
jumped. Like a robot, he made his way over to it.

“Hello, Madeline,” he answered, his voice devoid of
emotion. “Just email me what you’ve found. Thank you for your help this
evening.”

He hesitated. “I’d like to buy you a gift certificate.
I…” He floundered for a moment, most likely because she had always been the one
to buy them for him. My suspicions were confirmed when he said, “No, I’ll do
it. Monday. See you Monday.”

Dallon put down the phone and rubbed his face.

Shit. I’d ruined a good moment, and on top of that, I’d
made him feel bad about himself.

Excusing myself, I went to the bathroom, grasped the
edge of the vanity for support. My reflection in the mirror was flushed from
the wine and our intense conversation, but there was more to it. I knew what I
wanted, what I had to do.

Passing through the bedroom, I pulled my dress over my
head, dropped it on the bed and continued into the study. Dallon was on the
phone again and holding a beer. He turned around when I walked in, his eyes
widening slightly and then dipping low to take me in.