A New Year's Surprise (3 page)

His lips cut her off again, but this time, the kiss was hard and quick with him pulling away to say in a tone that sounded very lecture-like, “You’re not fat. Your body changed because you were carrying our angel.” One hand slipped down the front of her body and Kat realized he’d unzipped her sweater jacket. A firm hand closed around her large, heavy breasts and Kat recognized the need and want on her husband’s face before he spoke. “How could I not want this body when it’s given me so much?”

Feeling tears well in her eyes at his responses, and wondering if she was dreaming, Kat asked the other questions that had been plaguing her. “Have you really been working late all those times you said you were?”

For the first time, she saw what looked suspiciously like guilt cross her husband’s face before it closed off.

“Please don’t lie to me, Damien. I don’t want any more lies between us.”

“Okay.” He sighed and gave her a wistful smile. “Yes, I did have two particularly difficult deals that kept me in the office late, but I have used them as an excuse more than a few times to get out of the apartment.”

That answer hurt her and she allowed her legs to slide down Damien’s. Her husband moved away slightly, giving her feet space to find purchase.

“Why?”

“Truthfully?”

She nodded and braced herself for the possibility of another affair or one that he’d stopped before it had happened. That sounded like something that Damien might have done.

“I wanted to fuck you too badly.” When she gasped at the frank words, Damien offered her a sly grin, lifted her hips slightly, and rolled against her center. His erection, pressed so close to the ache that refused to go away, made her gasp and whimper. “I still do.”

“Damien...” The rest of her words died in his mouth and Kat both pushed at him and simultaneously tried to get even closer to the hard body pressing into hers. “...wait...”

He pulled away, looking flushed, tousled, and completely sexy and Kat almost begged him to continue before she remembered why she’d pushed him away in the first place.

“What’s the special project?”

Her husband looked confused for a long moment before his eyes grew chilled and he stepped away. As she watched, he straightened his work shirt as best as he could. It was already extremely wrinkled, with one side pulled from his pants as she’d had her hand under it. He ran a hand through his dark hair and sighed.

“You think I lied to you.”

It wasn’t a question, but a statement. Kat could deny it, but then she would be lying. She, instead, settled for not answering. Her brain had accepted that Vanya was Gavin’s girlfriend or latest hook-up, but she also remembered Damien saying that Vanya was working on a special project for him. That was before Gavin’s arrival. He’d have no reason to lie if he was only visiting the apartment for Gavin, as she wanted to believe.

“Kat, this is ridiculous.”

She watched him carefully, noticing his face was once more expressionless, his eyes devoid of emotion. He was hiding something. Kat stepped away from the wall and her sneakers pressed against something that wasn’t a part of the floor. Looking down, she quickly retrieved her  hair-tie and pulled her hair back.

“Why is it ridiculous?” She narrowed her eyes. “You said she was working on a special project, Damien, so what is it?” When he only continued to stare at her, she grew angry. “Is it a secret project?” Before he could respond either way, she shook her head and answered aloud, “Of course it isn’t because if it was, you would have said that immediately.”

Damien turned away from her, heading towards the kitchen. As she was about to follow, the sound of humorless laughter touched her ears.

Without turning to face her, he spoke, “You’ve been talking to your mother.”

With an irritated sigh, she griped, “Of course I have. She’s my mother.”

He stopped directly before the tall, white fridge against one corner, grabbed a glass from an overheard cupboard, and pressed the ice-maker. In a manner of seconds, he was pouring a deep brown liquid that was obviously some form of alcohol into the glass. His familiarity with the apartment irked her.

As he tossed back the shot, Kat looked in the direction of the still closed bedroom door. Had Gavin come out since he’d entered? A warm blush stole into her cheeks as she realized she wouldn’t have recognized anyway.

“She’s not even living with us and she’s still managing to ruin our marriage.”

Kat froze. The “she” in question was obviously her mother. Was he serious? He couldn’t be.

“Don’t drag her into this, Damien! My mother has nothing to do with the fact that you’re avoiding answering a simple question.” Kat recognized the distraction for what it was and that cranked her suspicion further. Her mother, along with her counter-part, Nancy Rochester, might have caused her fair share of strife, but that was a different issue all together. That situation had nothing to do with her question about Vanya. “What is she doing for you?”

As he continued to stare at her with unreadable eyes, Kat turned on her heels and began a determined walk towards the bedroom. She was no Zaire, but she’d be damned if she left this apartment without getting all of her answers.

“Kat!” she heard Damien snap from behind her, but she continued on. She even increased her pace, practically speed walking toward the door. Before she could reach it, however, Gavin stepped out, opening the door only wide enough for his body to fit, before pulling it in behind him.

An easy smile touched his lips as he leaned his tall frame against the door. He’d removed his jacket and now stood there in a pale blue, button down work shirt, dark pants, and Stamford Loafers.

“You look good, Kat.”

It would, and probably always would, be an understatement to say that he looked the same. Gavin Locke was an extremely handsome man, but what separated him from the herd of pretty faces was the confident swagger he exuded which could melt practically any woman. While Damien had a type of confident ease that had ultimately ensnared her heart, Gavin was all charming aggression. Both he and Damien had reminded her of hunting wolves in college, but Gavin seemed willing to pursue his ‘prey’ to the ends, and even beyond. In college, her husband couldn’t be bothered to chase women—though he’d made an exception for her—but Gavin didn’t care. He did it with a smile on his face and an even wider one after the tables were turned.

“You look...well.” She gave a generic response because under the pretty face and great body, Kat knew there was a lot of ugly. She’d never seen Zaire breakdown, but she’d come close...very close...over Gavin. “I’d like to speak with
her
.”

The fact that Gavin’s eyes instantly swung to Damien before returning to her, only reinforced her decision to talk to the hiding blond.

“Vanya’s traumatized.” When she lifted a brow, Gavin smirked. “She’s not a native New Yorker and isn’t accustomed to being chased by hood-rats.”

“Don’t talk about Z like that!” Her friend was definitely a character and, yes, her actions were at times ‘ghetto’ and ‘hood’ but having Gavin say it made it extremely disrespectful.

Gavin only shrugged as his smirk grew wider.

“Look,” she began, crossing her arms under her breasts, “I’m not leaving here until I speak with Vanya. I know she’s in there, Gavin, and all you’re doing is feeding the doubt in my mind that Damien is keeping something from me.”

Sobering almost instantly, Gavin shook his head. “Come on, Kat. Don’t make this into something it isn’t. Damien’s as whipped as he was in college. Vanya’s not going to tell you anything that’ll change that.”

“I’d like to be the one to decide that.”

Why were they fighting so hard to keep her from speaking to the woman? Was there even any special project? And if not, why had Damien lied? What was really going on in here?

***

The half-an-hour long drive back to their apartment was done in silence.

Vanya hadn’t come out of ‘hiding’ and Damien couldn’t say he was upset about it. Vanya wasn’t the type who could keep a secret, especially under the type of pressure Kat was certain to lay on her. It hadn’t given him any points with Kat however, who seemed to close into herself. He’d attempted to start conversations numerous times already, but his wife had barely acknowledged him.

Now, navigating the cars of their underground parking lot to get to his reserved space, he tried once more. “Did you leave Sophia with Catherine?”

The sound of their daughter’s name jarred her and Kat swung to face him before looking out of the window once more. “Yes.”

“Should I go for her?” He asked the question despite putting the car in park mode. He’d drive right out again if she said yes. Catherine was an excellent grandmother, even if she didn’t approve of him, but he hadn’t seen his baby girl since this morning and he missed her.

Pushing open the door, Kat shook her head. “No.”

Without waiting for him, she headed to the private elevator only feet away. He watched her fumble with her keys before getting out of the car and following her.

As the elevator doors opened onto the lower floor of the penthouse suite, Kat pulled off her shoes and instantly cut through their large, homey living room. Damien did the same, watching as his wife headed for the staircase that led to the bedrooms and upstairs bathrooms. Damien watched her disappear from sight and flung his body into the sturdy armchair, the only item he’d had a say in choosing for the living room. Ultimately, and with her interior-designing staff, Kat had done a great job. She hadn’t let her eight month belly get in the way, and in her element, Kat had practically growled and barked at him to get out of the way until the place was ready to her satisfaction. Unlike most modern apartments, the place didn’t look as much chic as it did cozy. Warm browns, peaches, and muted blues, greens, and a wealth of other toned down colors was the perpetual theme of the place. There were hardly any paintings on the walls as Kat hadn’t been able to find the ‘perfect’ pieces to compliment her home.

Listening for sounds above to get a gauge of what his wife was doing, Damien heard nothing. It didn’t take a genius to know that she was still upset. Removing his jacket, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. What time was it anyway?

The cable box read 10:30. Less than two hours until the New Year and he couldn’t wait for it to be over. What had started out in good faith, had suddenly become a huge headache. Between Zaire and Catherine’s accusations and Vanya not coming forward to talk, Kat was probably still convinced he was cheating. Even with Gavin in his corner, she wasn’t convinced.

A squeak pulled him from his sorrow and Damien looked down to find one of Sophia’s toys under his foot. He retrieved the bunny, squeezing it again and smiling when it made the squeaking sound that usually brought joy to his baby girl’s face right before she attempted to eat it. Sophia must have somehow gotten it out of her playpen.

He was at the kitchen sink, rinsing the toy through hot water, when footsteps on the stairs alerted him of Kat’s arrival. Drying the toy, he walked back to the living room just in time to see his wife slipping a fur-lined, black wool coat over a shimmery gold knee-length dress that fit her a bit too closely for his liking and taking out a pair of high heels from their walk in coat and shoe closet.

“Where are you going?” His voice sounded snappish because his elusive temper was very close to making an appearance. Damien tossed the squeak-bunny into Sophia’s playpen and waited for his wife’s response.

“Daddy’s hosting a New Year’s party for family and close friends.”

Gritting his teeth, Damien bit back the scathing response at the tip of his tongue. The Harrisons, who were to New York black society what the Kennedys were to Massachusetts, hosted a posh, yet conservatively understated, New Year’s party every year at their Westchester home. Current, former, and future crème de la crème of black society could be found there. If they’d had their way, Kat would be married to an age appropriate member of this esteemed society instead of him.

“And you’re going alone?” he asked softly, just to confirm. This would be the first time Kat had gone without him. She hadn’t even mentioned it. Usually, for New Years Eve, they showed their faces at both of their parents’ homes but were usually alone by the time the countdown to New Years began.

Without bothering to face him—Kat was slipping on her heels—she responded, “Yes, I’m going alone.”

“How are you getting there?”

Kat looked over her shoulder at him and he caught sight of a hint of makeup in the form of eye-shadow and red lips, before she returned her attention to her heels. “Taxi.”

“What time are you coming back?”

She didn’t answer for long seconds, before she turned her attention to a tote bag on the ground next to her. Damien’s eyes narrowed on the obviously full bag. He hadn’t seen her come down with it, so it had to have been there before.

“I don’t know.”

Before he could stop himself, he was moving. Whipping her around to face him, Damien caught the surprise in her eyes, but she held his gaze bravely, defiantly.

“Why are you doing this, Kat?” he raged, unable to control the turbulent emotions  within.  His wife was leaving him and going to the very people who hadn’t approved of their marriage in the first place. “Because I didn’t tell you what the special project was. Is it that serious you’d leave me on New Year’s Eve?”

She didn’t respond instantly, but Damien noticed a muscle ticking at her temple.

“Answer me, damn it! Because that’s what you’re doing, isn’t it? You packed that bag before you even left this apartment with Z!” He pushed away from her, disliking the way his emotions boiled with the knowledge that Kat was planning to leave him. And for something as harmless as what Vanya was doing for him.

“I’m leaving because it’s unhealthy for me to stay here.” Kat’s voice was soft and weary. “I love you, Damien, but how can I trust you when I know you’re lying to me? I wouldn’t be going anywhere if I’d spoken to Vanya. I just wanted five minutes, just five minutes to look into her eyes and ask her who she was to you.”

“
Nothing!
She’s nothing to me, but a worker!” he snapped.

“And yet you can’t tell me what she’s doing for you.”

His eyes flashed angrily. “I’m your husband, Kat! I love you and I trust you. Why can’t you show me the same fucking courtesy?”

***

“I’ve never given you a reason to doubt me, Damien!” Tired of fighting and wondering what it was her husband was hiding, Kat just wanted some time to take her mind off Damien and her crumbling marriage. She’d forgone her anger for acceptance and had planned to leave her home without a huge argument. Damien’s parting question had just changed that. “If you’d followed me to another man’s apartment and found him smelling like me, or wearing my lipstick, you’d feel the same way. You’d probably react worse than I did.”

The one time she’d seen Damien in a jealous rage had been years ago when he’d walked in on a study session with her and an ex. It had been completely innocent—they’d been in the living room with their World Politics books and supplements out—but Damien’s reaction had almost rivaled hers. If not for a few of her roommates, who were also a part of the study group, holding him back, there would have been a fight.

Some of his anger evaporated as she put it into perspective, and his shoulders slumped. His eyes went to floor and a lock of straight hair fell forward into his face.

“I’ll explain everything tomorrow,” he finally said.

“No, Damien!” This was getting ridiculous. Why was he doing this? Didn’t he understand that she wanted to trust him but he was making it difficult? “Explain it now, while I’m willing to listen and you couldn’t lie if you wanted to.”

Although his emotions were scary, she liked him like this. He said what he felt, what was true, instead of what she wanted to hear.