Chapter 10

 

Michael

 

“So I’m guessing you have a lot of questions. I’ll answer anything I can, but I also need to warn you that Dr. Siegel said we should not bombard you with information about your past. So I may choose to hold some things back until you’re ready.” At least by telling her something, perhaps I won’t get in trouble for not telling her everything. I mean, it is the truth, so technically I’m not lying to her either.

“Okay, I guess the first thing I want to know is, who am I?” she asks.

I expected this to be her first question, but I had not planned out how to answer her. “As you know, your given name is Zaira. Your last name is Bonita.”

“Italian? I presume?”

I can’t help but laugh. “Yes, Italian. Very Italian.”

Before she asks her next question, Isabella comes out with her tea and my Jack and Coke. Thank fuck for that. I have a feeling this is going to be a rough Q&A session. The Jack will help ease my pain.

“Thank you, Isabella. And please tell Ricco he doesn’t have to hide. I know he’s watching, and he can come out if he wants.”

She blushes and hurries off. Once she gets to the house, Ricco steps into the light and nods in my direction. He remains at his post just outside the French doors. Stubborn bastard. But he’s good at his job, which is exactly what he’s doing.

“So, any more questions?” I’m hoping she’s done for the night, but I know she will have more. A lot more.

She smiles and then asks, “Do I have any family?”

“Yes, you have a brother and a sister.”

“And my parents?”

“They’re both deceased.”

“Oh.” A sadness crosses her face for a mother and father she doesn’t even remember having. I know she will always miss her mother, and I swear I’m gonna find out who killed her, but I doubt she will ever feel the same way about her father. Then, she totally surprises me by asking, “Why would you need a bodyguard?”

Well, shit. That was not a question I expected to hear from her. How in the hell do I explain this one? “Well, Zaira, that’s a tough question to answer until you get a better understanding of who you are. For now, I think it would be best to say that my family is a very influential family in New York. Every member needs protection in some form or another.”

“I gather from the interactions I have witnessed with you and all these people I have met that you are their boss?”

“As of today, yes. My father retired today. He was supposed to wait until my thirtieth birthday in six months, but he decided not to. He made the announcement right before dinner.”

The answer seems to appease her for the time being, and I’m relieved. Then she asks, “How do I know you?”

Oh, shit, another tough one. “Well, we grew up together. We’ve been friends for a long time.” I keep my answers truthful but vague. I’m trying very hard not to throw too much information at her at once.

“Why are you keeping me here instead of letting me go home to my family?”

There it is, the question I knew she would ask but I am dreading at the same time. I have no idea what the fuck to tell her as I haven’t fully figured this one out myself.

And before I can think about it anymore, words flow freely out of my mouth. “We’re engaged. I’m your fiancé.”

What. The. Fuck. What have I done? That will surely be the beginning to the end. I can’t take it back, and I sure as hell can’t lie my way out of it. The damage is done.

Zaira looks down at her left hand and scowls. Victor’s gaudy diamond ring rests awkwardly on her left ring finger. It’s obvious she is not impressed with it. “We’re engaged?” she asks.

I’ve said the lie, so now I have to play the part. I take her left hand and kiss it. “This is not my ring that you wear.” And then before I know it, another lie flows from my mouth. “You bought this ring to ward off any unwanted advances.”

She smiles when she realizes she won’t have to wear the ugly, obnoxious ring much longer.

“We just recently got engaged, and we didn’t have time to pick one out yet.”

She looks at me curiously, and I can tell she is trying to figure out if what I am telling her is true. I can see the thoughts enter her mind as she thinks. Do I love him? Could I love him? “Did we date long?”

“Like I said, Zaira, we’ve known each other since we were children. It was always hoped that you and I would marry, and to the pleasant surprise of both our families, we fell in love.” I know I am probably going against Dr. Siegel’s orders, but what harm could this do?

“So that is why I am living here?”

“Well, your brother and I thought it best you stay here with me. I can protect you better here, and your safety is our number-one priority.”

“Why would either of you be concerned with my safety?”

“Because of how you were hurt.”

“Oh, yeah. I almost forgot about that.” She reaches up to touch the bandage on the side of her head. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Yeah, I can tell her, and it won’t go over very well. I can see it now. Of course I can tell you, Zaira. You see, I killed your father and your true fiancé two days ago. You were running to safety, then fell and hit your head. I rescued you and took you to my house where I’ve decided to lie to you and tell you we are engaged and to keep you here until you fall in love with me.

Oh, yeah. It will go over really well. I’m totally fucked.

“We were at your family’s house two days ago for a party. There was a disruption, and people at the party began to panic. You were trying to get to me when you tripped and fell and hit your head.” And now we add another lie to the story. At least this lie is partially true.

“What was the party for?” she asks.

“It was our engagement party,” I reply. Another half-truth.

“So we’re in love?”

“Well, Zaira, that’s up to you. I know how I feel about you, but I will not force you to feel the same about me. You don’t remember me; therefore, you don’t remember that you love me. So when you ask if we’re in love, it’s for you to decide. It comes down to how you feel.”

She begins to speak, but I hold up my hand. “No. Don’t answer me now. You need time to adjust and get to know me all over again. I don’t expect nor do I want you to profess any feelings for me now.” I make myself sound like a fucking saint. I really can’t believe I am doing this. It’s gonna blow up in my face. “You know what? It’s getting late. Why don’t you get some rest, and we’ll talk some more tomorrow.”

“I am getting a little tired.” She stands and turns toward me and says, “Thank you, Michael.” She walks over to me and gives me a hug. Now that, I didn’t expect.

“Before I forget, I wanted to let you know that Vince is coming tomorrow to see you.”

“Vince?” she asks.

“Yes, your brother,” I reply.

“Oh, okay. Will you be there too?”

“Only if you want me to.”

“I think I would like that,” she says.

I doubt your brother would, but his opinion really doesn’t matter here. Oh, fuck. I’m gonna have to break the happy news to him about our engagement. He’s gonna be so fucking pissed off.

Zaira gets up onto her tiptoes and kisses me on the cheek. “Would you mind showing me to my room? I can’t remember how to get back, and I really don’t want to be roaming around the house and disturb your family.”

“Of course I will.” Her kiss stirs something in me, making me want more. Fuck, it was just a kiss on the cheek, but the intimacy it implies… This has got to work. If it doesn’t, she will hate me, and I’ll have nothing.

We get to her door, and she turns to face me. “Michael, I’m sorry I don’t remember you. It must be hard for you,” she says.

If you only knew, I think to myself. I lean in and kiss her cheek this time, getting dangerously close to that sensitive spot I know is behind her ear. I see the goose bumps appear on her neck, and now all I can think about is pushing her into her room and claiming her. I check myself and step back. “You will. We both need to be patient,” I reply.

“Goodnight, Michael,” she says.

“Sogni d’ oro, Zaira,” I say in Italian, testing the waters to see what she knows.

“Sweet dreams to you too,” she says. So she understands Italian. I guess language falls under the learned behaviors.

“Oh, before I forget, breakfast is usually a continental-type spread in the dining room where we had dinner. Feel free to join us.”

“I’d like that,” she says. She lingers in the doorway, and I get the feeling she is stalling. Well hell, so am I. The last thing I want to do is leave her alone. I’d rather follow her inside and spend the remainder of the night buried deep inside her.

“You are free to roam about the house, so don’t feel you need to remain confined to your room.”

She steps inside and says, “Thank you, Michael.”

“Buona notte,” I say.

“Buona notte,” she replies and closes the door behind her.

I linger at her door. I want nothing more than to go in there with her, but I know I can’t.