Page 33 of Thiago
Then there was the friend of her best friend’s husband. He didn’t have a name, but the shadowy image of the second man lurked in the corners of his mind like a stalker disrupting his thoughts and worrying him.
He had to do something. He had to eliminate the competition.
Sitting idly by was not his style, especially when he saw his perfect arrangement with India falling apart. There was also theodd tightness on the left side of his chest that had appeared and remained since Saturday. He couldn’t get rid of the irritation, and the more he dwelled on the situation with India, the tighter his chest became.
For two Friday nights in a row, India had canceled on him, and on Saturday when he had suggested they get together this Friday night, she had been rather indifferent. Nonchalant. Apathetic. Detached.
All words he hated but which basically meant the same thing. She wasn’t excited about seeing him. She wasn’t looking forward to their time together, which could mean she liked the doctor a lot. She had invited him into her home, and if Thiago hadn’t arrived, she might have had sex with him.
His woman—well, not his woman. He had no hold on her. His… what was she? Lover was the best way to describe her role. His lover had spent Saturday night with another man in her apartment, eating pizza and drinking wine and might have enjoyed herself immensely.
But she always had a good time with Thiago, didn’t she? The sex was incredibly hot and passionate. They were comfortable with each other and talked, though admittedly their work and personal lives were carefully delineated. Did she want more?
Thiago shifted in the chair, a frown creasing his brow.
Was that the issue? If so, he could fix the situation easily enough. She mentioned going on dates with those other men. Maybe she wanted to go out to dinner or something. He could give a little, especially if his actions got rid of the goddamn doctor and the other man, whoever he was.
Maybe India wanted courting along with the sex.
Thiago pushed to his feet with resolve and exited his office. As he marched down the hall, employees scurried out of the way. One woman did a one-eighty when she saw him and hurried toward her cubicle, leaving her conversation partner standingawkwardly in the middle of the floor. The employee dipped his attention to a bunch of papers in his hand, trying to look busy after he’d been abandoned.
Two members of the staff gave Thiago uneasy, close-mouthed smiles as he passed by, which he didn’t return. He was on a mission. He had a plan, and he didn’t have time to play smiley face with the staff.
When he arrived at India’s office, he knocked loudly on the door.
“Come in,” her voice called from inside.
He stepped in and shut the door behind him. She shot to her feet, like a soldier about to salute a commanding officer.
Her eyebrows drew together. “Thiago, what are…?”
“Have a seat.” He waved her toward the chair with his hand.
“I’d rather stand,” she said carefully, tension in her shoulders. Obviously, his unannounced visit had caught her off guard. She seemed rattled.
He stepped closer to the desk, which allowed him to catch a hint of her sweet perfume. For the thousandth time, he thought about how she always smelled so incredibly good. She hadn’t been wearing perfume on Saturday night, but did she spritz some on for Simon after he left?
“How did your date with Dr. Simon go on Saturday night?”
Her right eyebrow arched higher. “Are you asking me if I had sex with him?”
“Yes,” Thiago bit out.
She inhaled deeply and let out a silent breath. “No, Thiago, I didn’t have sex with him. I made you a promise, and I kept it.”
Relieved, he tapped his finger on the surface of her desk. “Good. Did you have a good night?”
“This is a very strange conversation. I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to give you a review of my evening with Simon.”
“Why not? I should know who my competition for your attention is.”
“Competition is an interesting word.”
An awkward silence filled the room.
“Do you plan to continue seeing him?” Thiago asked.
She picked up a pen and turned it over in her hand. “I’m not sure. He’s a nice man.”
