Page 31 of Thiago
“Why did you have to go to the doctor?” Thiago asked.
“It was a false alarm,” India said dismissively. “I thought I was having a heart attack, but it was heartburn. The whole episode was embarrassing.”
Thiago relaxed. His entire body had locked up with tension when he thought something had been seriously wrong.
“Is the good doctor the only other man you’re seeing?” he asked in an overly pleasant voice.
India averted her eyes.
Thiago let loose a stream of Spanish curses. “How many others are there?” he demanded.
“You make dating sound awful, and it’s not. Kiara set me up with a friend of her husband’s, and we went out last night. Why do you care?”
“How could you ask such a question!” Thiago bellowed, blistering rage shooting through him. “Friday night ismygoddamn night. Do you really think I want another man—” The chime of the doorbell cut him off.
Maybe it was for the best because he had been about to say, “Do you really think I want another man spending time withmy woman?” But in reality, she wasn’t his woman, was she? They had made no formal declaration regarding the status of their relationship, so technically she was allowed to see other people.
Which he hated. He hated the idea of her with another man, especially since her apartment was the space he escaped to one night a week. Right now, it was being sullied by a fucking stranger whose fucking face he was tempted to bash in the minute he walked through the fucking door.
“He’s here, and you need to leave,” India said.
Thiago caught her by the upper arm. “Are you sleeping with him?” He hated asking the question but had to be sure. Wondering would eat him alive.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no.”
Relief flooded him.
“Not yet,” she added.
Her words were like a fist to the chest. He didn’t move a muscle. Was she trying to drive himinsane?
“Do not sleep with him tonight.”
Her eyes widened. “Why should I listen to you?—”
“Promise me you won’t sleep with him,” he said urgently.
The doorbell rang again, more insistently this time.
“You can’t tell me what to do in my personal life. Go to hell.” India yanked away her arm.
She marched over to the monitor, checked the screen, and then opened the door. The man in the hallway looked as surprised as Thiago had been when he saw her with the mask on her face.
“Hi,” he said slowly. “Am I early?”
He caught sight of Thiago in the background, and his eyebrows raised. He peered at Thiago with curiosity from behind a pair of glasses. His hair was slicked back a little too deliberately. Thiago instantly disliked him.
“You’re not early. I’m running late.” India stepped aside so he could enter.
Quietly seething, Thiago watched him walk into the living room.Hisliving room, as far as he was concerned.
“Hello,” the man said.
India stepped up to the two of them. “Thiago Santana, this is Dr. Simon Stone. Simon, this is Thiago. My boss.”
Boss?The word landed like a slap.
Thiago’s jaw tightened. He extended a hand with minimal enthusiasm.
