Page 35 of Dominic

Chapter Eighteen

Over the next month, Cassandra made sure to avoid any serious conversation between she and Dominic. It wasn’t terribly difficult; she found he could easily be distracted by her taking off her clothes or dropping to her knees in front of him. Not that he didn’t know what she was doing. But he seemed willing to let it go. Or at least accept what she was offering.

But things also changed.

Dominic took her out to eat. Never any fancy places that made her uncomfortable; just the delicious casual food that could be found throughout the French Quarter and all over New Orleans.

And ice cream. Her husband — not that she would ever use that word to describe him to his face — had a sweet tooth for frozen treats. They went out almost every evening for one sort of ice cream or another.

The deliveries stopped. If she needed something now one of Dominic’s other men took her into town. Dominic had even offered her the use of one of his cars, although she’d never taken him up on it.

She very definitely could not be called his prisoner.

Things changed inside his house too. After Cassandra’s success in thwarting the thieves at the gala, Dominic had given her a job besides “being available for the best sex either of them had ever had.” She worked with Titus, Dominic’s head of security, to make sure buildings belonging to, or under the protection of, the Rinaldi family were fortified against thieves. She never knew exactly which building she was studying, certainly to make sure she couldn’t double cross them, but it was nice to feel useful.

Although being labeled “the best sex ever” wasn’t too bad either.

It was four o’clock in the afternoon when she left Dominic’s office to go up to the bedroom and saw the red ballroom gown hanging outside the closet. She immediately began backing out of the room, only to find Roman’s hard chest behind her.

She spun. “What is that for?”

“We have another gala tonight. A formal dinner for the Rinaldi Foundation.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Because last time I gave you a few days’ warning of a formal event you got so worked up I had to literally beat your ass all the way home to work you out of it.” He took a step closer. “Not that I mind wailing on that sexy ass of yours. I would just prefer to do it because we both want it, not because you’re panicking.”

“I—”

“And don’t think that I haven’t noticed you trying to bypass our conversation about the topic of your panic attacks.”

She frowned. “They’re not panic attacks. I’m just… weird.”

Dominic stepped towards and her and ran his hands down her arms. “When you get so worked up that you have an uncontrollable physiological response to stress, that’s a panic attack. And it doesn’t make you weird.”

“I’m just useless at these galas. I feel stupid.” She tried to shrug off his hands but he wouldn’t let her.

“Useless? Might I remind you that last month you singlehandedly spotted the thieves and proceeded to stop them?”

“Yeah, but tonight there’s no threat of anyone robbing you, right? So you don’t need me.”

“But I want you there. As my date. You’re sexy and intelligent and mine. So you’re coming with me.”

Cassandra was torn. On one hand she really did want to go with him. Wanted to be the woman on his arm at events like this. On the other hand she could already feel nervousness pitting her her stomach. Could he really not see how useless she was?

“We leave in two hours. Does that give you enough time to get ready, but not so much time that you freak out?” He trailed a finger down her cheek. “I thought a narrow time window might reduce the need for me to cane you.”

He really was trying to help her in the best way he knew how. She nodded and got on her tippy toes to kiss him on the cheek. “Yes. Thank you.”

But an hour later after she’d showered and styled her hair, her hands began to shake. She could feel the crawling starting under her skin. She hadn’t gotten dressed yet, nor put on makeup, only had on her bra and thong. Dominic was in the shower. Maybe she could force herself to throw up, say she was sick, get out of going. She didn’t want to lie to Dominic, but the thought of getting dressed now… of trying to be calm and composed in front of so many other people had her panicking.

She began scratching her belly. But then stopped. He’d told her not to do that. To talk to him.

But how did you find the words to tell the man you loved that you were so messed up that you couldn’t even go out to a nice dinner without freaking out?

“Cassandra?”

He stood, towel around his waist, in the doorway of the bathroom watching her. He gestured towards her abdomen where red marks could be seen. “Not going so good?”

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