Despite the harshness in his voice, she wasn’t giving up that easily. “Don’t underestimate me. I know more than I say, think more than I speak, and notice more than you realize. I know there’s a good man beneath Mr. Black.”
Sitting up brusquely and pushing her off his chest, he gripped her chin. “Do you know why I call myself Mr. Black?”
Elsa blinked rapidly, took a deep breath and held it. This was it. She was breaking through.
His brows drew together in an agonized expression. “Because deep down, that’s what my heart and soul is - blackened and charred, burnt and unrecognizable,” he gritted his teeth. “There is no light in me, Elsa, so don’t.”
She shook her head, not getting his meaning. “Don’t what?”
“Fall for me,” he pleaded with his eyes.
She moistened her lips nervously and felt the misery of his statement. “What if I told you it’s too late?”
Victor pushed himself off the bed violently and stepped back just out of her reach, and an inexplicable look of withdrawal came over his face. “Then I would tell you that I feel sorry for you because this isn’t going to end well.”
She stood as well and took one step forward to reach a hand out, desperate for his touch, but he pushed it away.
“This is just a game, remember? I’m only here to…”
She cut in, ready to finish his ludicrous statement. “I remember. You’re here to ‘help’ me. But here’s a news flash, Victor: it seems to me that I’m not the one who needs the help here.”
He shot her a cold look and crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t need help.”
“Neither do I,” she countered. “So I guess we’re at an impasse.”
He nodded in discontented agreement, “I suppose so.”
Her eyes dropped to hide her disappointment in how the evening was turning out. “Am I free to leave?” she whispered.
She felt Victor’s finger on her chin, lifting her face. “Is that what you want?”
“You know what I want,” she replied even softer than before.
He sighed and shook his head.
“Fine. I’ll go,” she choked out as she turned and sulked away. She made it to the door when Victor wrapped his fingers around her wrist and yanked her back.
“Like hell you will.”
He pulled her into his embrace and smothered her with his kiss, stifling any objections she might have had. Not that she had any. She didn’t really want to leave. She wanted to hold him and to be held by him. He swept her up into his arms and marched the short distance to the bed and laid her down gently. Yes, this was the man she had missed during his absence: her sweet and temperamental Victor.
*
Elsa woke to the sound of Victor’s deep and peaceful breathing. After his admission and desperate kiss, they had simply laid in bed next to each other until they fell asleep. She kissed the corner of his mouth and walked down the stairs to the living room. Still naked, she turned on the fireplace and squatted in front of it for warmth.
The evening had been so perfect. He hadn’t even mentioned their abrupt departure on Sunday or the cruel words they both had said to one another. His writings were beckoning her and as much as she wanted to be near him, she couldn’t wait to get back to continue reading so she could learn more about him.
Staring at the crackling fire, she became lost in her thoughts. Burnt and unrecognizable… Unrecognizable from what? From whom he once was? Then that would mean he wasn’t always like this.
A warm blanket and strong arms suddenly encompassed her and held her close.
“You’re freezing. What are you doing out here?” Victor’s voice seemed distant.
“Thinking,” she curled into him.
His arms squeezed tighter yet. Managing no more than a hoarse whisper, he breathed into her ear, “I wish I was inside your head to hear your thoughts. You would never have to speak you desires, I could just sit close like this and feel every one of your dreams and wishes and fulfill them one by one.”
His deep voice simmered with barely checked passion and his words stoked the already out-of-control fire he had ignited within her. Her heart clenched and she looked up into his eyes. They were focused on the flames and reflecting the red embers in the darkened room.
“Why do you say things like that to me?”
He blinked rapidly and met her gaze.
“Is this part of your game, Mr. Black?” she implored.
He pushed the hair from her eyes and kissed her forehead tenderly. “No, my words are real and this is the real me.”
Without saying anything, she mentally begged him to kiss her, but he only sat staring down at her, visibly struggling internally with his emotions. Gently, he pushed her away.
“You’re free to leave.”
Why couldn’t he just accept what she was offering? She sat on her knees for a long moment not even knowing herself what she was trying to offer him before rising to leave. She climbed the stairs to the bedroom slowly and gathered her bag, a sinking feeling starting to overwhelm her with each of her steps. She descended the stairs to see Victor waiting by the open door with the blanket wrapped around his body. She wasn’t even sure how she was getting home until she saw a cab parked on the street waiting for her. On the verge of breaking down, she was unable to look him in the eyes. She gulped loudly and stepped forward when she felt a tear roll down her cheek.
He reached out and brushed it away with his thumb. “No tears tonight, Elsa.”
She looked at him bewildered. “I thought you liked my tears?”
“I do, but not tonight.”
17: Light vs. Dark
Standing just inside the open door, Victor watched as the cab drove away. Guilt was ever present and he tried to brush it off like he had done countless times, but he couldn’t. Not this time. Not as easily. He hadn’t been so conflicted over a woman in years. Where the hell was it coming from? He suspected it had everything to do with the intense scrutiny he was feeling regarding the Cambridge case and his workload, and nothing to actually do with the female in question. At least he hoped that was the case. There was no way in hell he would allow himself to get attached to a Chapter. Love or anything remotely like it didn’t fit onto his agenda. He shook his head and sighed. Elsa. He needed to stop thinking of her as only a number. But why?
The dream… the vivid and macabre images were still lingering in his memory and he never wanted to be that man; not in real life; not even in a dream. The work he was doing with his Chapters was keeping him from being that person. They helped to keep his mind off the inevitable truth of his ancestry and distract him from the darkness that threatened to overtake him.
Even though the blood of the brutal man he called his father was coursing through his veins as was his cruel mother’s, he tried to convince himself that he was still his own man. He was doing something constructive with his character flaws and using them for something good by helping people who couldn’t help themselves. Wasn’t he? He clenched his jaw. Who the fuck did he think he was kidding? Himself, that’s who. It was better that he lied to himself than to allow the ugly truth of what he had done to all those Chapters seep into his thoughts.
God damn Chapter One.
Seating himself at the table, he reached for his journal. He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of man he might have turned out to be if One had never come into his life. Would he be kinder? Less cruel? A loving man with a family of his own? Or would he be just some wishy-washy, half-rate FBI agent barely pulling his own weight? Or worse yet, some pussy-whipped asshole in an unhappy relationship with a woman who would never allow him to explore his dark side? He would never know and he didn’t want to. These were the cards life dealt him and was going to play them for all their worth.