Page 12 of Cruel Longing

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“I have a full evening planned. You’ll see.” He led me to his car. No driver. Just the two of us.

“Marguerite’s?” I guessed. I had been to visit her a few times after Luka’s move to France. She knew I missed him. But eventually, even that became too difficult for me. And my life too busy for café wine nights.

He chuckled. “Even better. Trust me.” He closed the door behind me as I slid into the passenger seat, dragging the red silk with me safely.

I expected Luka to drive us out to the bayou. He liked the places on the road less traveled. The anonymity that came with dive bars and local haunts. As we turned through more downtown streets, I had a sinking feeling. It felt off.

He pulled along the curb as the valet hurried to the driver’s side of the car. He parked and turned off the engine.

My eyes cut to him. “Is this a joke? Do you think this is funny?”

“Is there something wrong with the food here? I heard it was the best in the city. Now.” There was no humor in his eyes. They were dark and unbothered.

The curly French writing scrawled on the marquee lit behind his head. We had arrived at the Vieux Carre.

When I didn’t answer he quieted the music in the car. “It’s a little ironic. I thought it would be a good place to start our truce.”

“That’s the truth?” I questioned. “You want us to eat at the Viuex Carre?”

“It seemed like the only place to start. You can show me around your hotel. But we do have reservations that start in five minutes. I could cancel?”

“No. No.” I shook my head. Everything I thought this night could be and should be evaporated. I had imagined a scenario where Luka wanted to bring the past to us. I realized we were no longer those people from five years ago. I certainly wasn’t the naïve girl he had met in the pool house. But there was still disappointment that I wouldn’t experience some of it again.

The door swung open, and the valet’s eyes bulged when he realized who I was. “Ms. Amato.”

“Good evening.” I smiled sweetly.

There would be no nostalgia. No reliving the past. I had to shift my mind to embrace any possibility for the rest of the night. This might be my hotel, but Luka had managed to throw me off balance. He brought me to a place where I should have the upper hand, but the way my belly flipped when he rounded the car meant I was once again at his mercy.

Luka nodded at me. “I knew we’d have excellent service at least.” He offered his hand as I stepped on the curb. “Everyone says this is the best. Exquisite.”

“Ahh, I see. You’re here for the service.” I needed a few beats and breaths to gain my footing again.

He chuckled. “I just want to see where the night takes us.” His hand slid to my waist. I gasped at the provocative way he applied pressure as his fingers dug into my hip. He guided me into the hotel. “Although we know since you chose the red dress, what you desire most, Amara.” His breath whispered over my neck and the words flooded my thoughts.

I felt a lump in my throat. I was wearing the dress he ordered me to wear. It was my first act of submission to the Pakhan. Instead of anger or embarrassment, I was turned on. I gave in to his request and it thrilled me. Did the power lie with him or me? I knew what this dress did to him. His eyes hadn’t stopped fucking me since I descended the stairs.

“Is that so?” I tilted my eyes upward. “I guess we will see where the night takes us.”

I wasn’t sure if this was a date or psychological warfare.

Seven

AMARA

Ishouldn’t have been surprised Luka reserved the private dining room. I often held special meetings here if I needed extreme privacy with the combined services of the hotel.

Starring at the man sitting across from me, I felt as if the night was incredibly fragile. As if we could tip the scales towards pain or happiness with very little energy. The tension was only increasing, and I didn’t know how to diffuse what buzzed between us.

“So, tell me. Have the tunnels been useful?” he inquired. It was a loaded invasive question.

My eyes popped. “I thought this was a date, not a business meeting.”

He poured our champagne casually. “It is a date. But we have a lot to catch up on. I imagine you’ve been able to put the passageways to use in five years. No?”

I flatted the linen napkin in my lap. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to talk about organization business. I was under the impression the truce was about us.” I stared at him blankly. “If it’s not, I’ll have a driver take me home. Enzo can set up a meeting with whomever your assistant is. Not that I’m going to talk about the Vieux Carre in that meeting either.”

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