CUL-DE-SAC (On The Edge Book 1) (13 page)

CHAPTER 13

The state she was currently in was truly
ridiculous, Catalina decided, looking at the pitiful condition of her bedroom.
Clothes, shoes and accessories strewed every inch of the room mercilessly,
taunting her efforts to find the perfect outfit for dinner with Xan.

She placed her right hand on her midsection
hoping it would help to settle her stomach, but it was clenched tightly with
nerves yet again and the feeling was stubbornly refusing to abate.

It was not only hard to understand it, it
was impossible to accept it, she thought.

Catalina Bennett, known for her impeccable
taste, for choosing the best attire for every occasion, has faltered in her
faultless ways, she taunted herself inwardly. How could she let something as
ordinary as dinner with a man grow out of proportion? She asked herself for the
tenth time but the mocking silence was still her only answer.

She had no idea where he was going to take
her, so she could complain about not knowing what to wear.

Except… she had never had the problem
before, not sparing more than five minutes of her time to come up with an idea
for a dress no matter the circumstances. Rationalizing something that went
beyond sensible didn’t offer any answers and although she had never been the
kind of woman to avoid what was not understandable, she decided to make an
exception this one time.

She regretted her hasty agreement, wanted
to call the whole thing off more times than she cared to admit to.

So what if she wanted him to model for her?

There were plenty of people she could find
and who would probably be happy to do it. But then if that was not the reason
to meet up with him, what was?

She categorically denied her interest could
reach some private level.

Catalina was not so sure what her answer would
be right now if he were to ask her out again. Likely refusal, she thought, but
his nonconformance felt too tempting against her skin and she simply couldn’t
bring her curiosity to heel.

That and the fact that at the night of the
exhibition she had felt out of sorts for too many reasons she didn’t even want
to reconsider, and he seemed so indifferent to everything that surrounded them
she started to… envy him what she perceived as freedom.

It was Xan’s raw masculinity that snatched
her away from the thoughts she was deeply plunged in and made her focus on him
instead of counting all the things she was not and could never be.

Cat sighed looking at herself in the
mirror.

The short summer dress she chose was more
on the casual side but wouldn’t raise any eyebrows in case they were going
somewhere on the more sophisticated side. The blue color complimented her eyes
and she thought there was a chance, no matter how slight, it could have earned
Florence’s approval too.

Apparently pretending her grandmother’s
opinion didn’t count at all was futile. Catalina made a face at her own
reflection in the mirror and went back to assessing her outfit.

High heels could make things tricky for
her, she thought but she remembered Chloé’s flattering remarks regarding her
legs and was not going to replace the heels with something safer and more
comfortable.

Instead of tying her hair in some sublime
and complicated way, she let it tumble onto her arms and back. For some reason
she felt less… exposed with her hair unbound and something told her she might
need every advantage while facing this specific male.

She drew in a breath, thinking she looked a
bit untidy compared to her usual mien, but perhaps more like someone who was
about to spend a night out with Xan. The idea calmed her a little but then the
frail composure shattered pitilessly when a knock came at her door, heralding
the arrival of a very punctual man.

Cat appreciated this quality in people.

She walked through her house and opened the
door with a ready smile on her face just when he was raising his hand to knock
one more time.

Whatever words of her welcome were going to
be, they froze on the tip of her tongue and fell away like shards of ice.

His jaw was bruised, not in a heavy way but
enough to make her take notice, and it went dangerously hand in hand with the
blackness of his shirt, marking him exactly for who he was: a man capable of
violence.

She thought there was something wrong with
her first reaction because regret pierced her for not having her camera next to
her.
“Would you like to come in?” She stepped slightly aside but not before peering
into his eyes and nearly staggering under the strength of emotions pouring out
of his hooded gaze.
“Are you sure you didn’t just change your mind about going out with me?” He
asked her.

Xan looked straight into her eyes but then
his gaze, having a mind on its own, slid down her body taking the view in.

The simplicity of her dress drew his
attention more than if she had put on a show and decided to emphasize her body
or money.

The very fact she hadn’t, said all about
her class. And there was no doubt she had money. He knew it before but would
have lost the last scraps of doubt after seeing her residence situated next to
the beach with a great view of the ocean.

Why would someone like her want to go out
with him, especially when he looked like a thug with a vivid mark of his
origins and activities? He kept asking himself this and similar questions while
he was driving here and still couldn’t find one damn good answer that could
work in his favor.
“I’m not that fickle, I don’t change my mind so easily,” she assured him,
trying to ignore the pinpricks of foreboding clinging to her skin along with
the faintest trail of warning enclosed in his words.
“Aren’t you going to ask me about it?”
“Do you feel like telling me?” She didn’t think she had a right to ask any kind
of personal questions and politeness alone suggested she refrained from it as
well.

Besides, the assumption it had something to
do with his latest fight was quite obvious.
“Nothing to tell really.” Yet his lips quirked at the corners in reaction to
her perverse question.

This was the side of her he wanted to
explore. Preferably naked, Xan thought. Discouraging her from the get-go wasn’t
going to get him there.
“I’ve made a reservation at Josie’s.”
“Sounds good, I like it there.”

It didn’t surprise him she knew the place
although he wasn’t sure should he believe the second part of her statement. It
was elegant but not overly, leaning toward cozy and homey rather, in his
opinion.

Not the words that came to his mind when he
looked at the woman in front of him.
“Let’s go then.” He pointed behind him and she saw the sleek lines of a black
Jaguar.

The fact that it wasn’t a two door sport
type worked in his favor, she decided. The brand seemed oddly fitting to him
because Xan definitely shared some qualities with the lethal animal, in her
opinion.

Catalina shook her head, wondering where
those kinds of thoughts were coming from, but decided she had a few hours to
find answers to this and other pressing matters as far as he was concerned.
“I’m ready.” She smiled wondering, was she really?

***

Josie's was a beautiful restaurant at the
southwest corner of 25
^th
and Pico Blvd. On a weekday evening like
tonight, there was generally ample street parking available within a few blocks
on Pico at meters that were free after six p.m.

The first noticeable thing after entering
chef and owner Josie Le Balch’s restaurant was the row of copper pots hanging
over the stoves in the open kitchen. They were not only beautiful but also
symbolic and not merely a reflection of the era of old-school French cooking
that the owner stood for and innovated. The pots were a bow toward that history
and its technique, but also leaning in the direction of Josie’s own history
since they belonged to her father.

It was one of Catalina’s favorite
restaurants in Santa Monica.

The atmosphere was relaxing and warm,
contrary to so many other places. It was chic but not gaudy. The dining room
and bar were kept in comforting shades of brown and white with elegant touches
of soft lighting and luscious fabric.

It was a place where a person could not
only eat delicious food but also rest from the outside world, in Cat’s opinion.

Except today she felt anything but relaxed,
due to Xan’s electrifying presence at her side.

The distance between the restaurant and her
house had never felt longer than today and the drive settled heavily on their
shoulders.

Or perhaps it was just her.

Xan seemed immersed in his inner thoughts
so there was not much to be said between them. Neither gave the impression they
wanted to divulge some secrets at the moment, and the topic of weather or
traffic felt too desperate to reach for, although Catalina reserved her right
to use it later if things were going to continue looking the way they did.

She didn’t have a key to a man like Xan,
but that didn’t make her want to give up. On the contrary she found him only
more intriguing for that very reason instead.

She felt his gaze swerving from the road
ahead several times and moving onto her as if in question but his lips remained
sealed, leaving her prey to the gods of guessing.

Cat had had numerous diners with different
men and even though it had been a while since the last time, she remembered
they were nothing like the present one. But then she was always going out with males
who were predictable.

Xan was a wild card in her eyes, constantly
making her second guess every gesture, every single word.

She couldn’t recall ever being so conscious
of herself and her surroundings. She didn’t even have her camera with her,
which could ease her somewhat, or make her hands busy in the very least.

They were smoothly led to their table and
given menus but she kept peering at it absently only because it seemed like the
right thing to do at the instant. Yet her gaze was moving from one option to
another without paying much heed to anything in particular.
“Did you consider my offer?” She asked when her nerves became as taut as a
piano wire and she couldn’t take the prolonging of the silence any longer.
“What offer would that be?” He looked at her, thinking that the evening had barely
started and Catalina already looked ready to bolt at the first opportunity.

He couldn’t blame her; he knew his thoughts
were miles away, making him seem absentminded and women like her were used to constant
attention.
“A session,” she reminded him, although the very fact he didn’t even remember
this part of their conversation said it all.
“I’m not a model material, Doll.” Did she really think he would consider that? He
wondered.
“My camera doesn’t agree with you,” she informed him trying to pretend the
nickname didn’t set her teeth on edge… again.

It felt surreal to be talking about taking
photographs of him so casually, as if that night at the club and his violent
reaction hadn’t happened at all or even if it had–it was in another lifetime at
least. Considering their first meetings, they shouldn’t have been even sitting
in here.

Together.

On a date.

Yet here they were, and Cat couldn’t wait
for the ordered wine to arrive fast enough. It was not that the time with him
was so unpleasant that she needed to wash away the bad taste it gave her with
alcohol.

No, it was not that at all.

It was about the whole unnerving situation
they found themselves in. There were myriads of pent up emotions pulsating
under his skin while he tried his best not to show any of it.

Her susceptibility to all the things he left
unsaid, considering the fact she didn’t even know him, couldn’t be explained
either.

It was laughable they were sitting in here
pretending they had anything in common while she felt as if there wasn’t
literally even one subject they could agree on.

CHAPTER 14

“Are you going to tell me your name?” She asked when another bout of silence
fell upon them.
“What is wrong with Xan?” He raised one eyebrow looking as arrogant as ever.
“Nothing, but it’s only fair since you know mine… not that you would use it,” she
muttered and he chuckled.
“Do you think a name defines a person?” He tried his best to refute this one
but he felt his father’s brand imprinted on his very being.

The brand made an appearance in those
moments he naively thought himself rid of it and in control.

Moments like last night.
“There are many things which do, name is the most obvious one.”
“Xan Thorpe.” He couldn’t see any harm in telling her that.
“Was it so hard?” Catalina wanted to know.
“Did it change anything?” He answered with a question of his own.
“Yes, I no longer feel like you are unreal.”

In any other situation, with any other
person in his place, her answer could have been considered romantic. They were
both aware that was not the case in here.

He reached over the table and covered her
hand with his own.
“Is it real enough for you?” He looked straight into her eyes and saw her
consternation before she could conceal it.

Her bones felt delicate and fragile, her
skin soft, but he couldn’t enjoy it for long because she slipped her hand from
under his.
“Yes, thank you,” Catalina said and was surprised she managed the cool tone of
voice when she felt flushed. “I won’t share your identity with anyone, you
know. I never do,” she told him in case he was worried about it.
“How often do you find yourself in situations where you are forced to use this
ethic rule of yours?” He didn’t delude himself that it was the first time she
chose a dangerous path, but now he started to suspect this was her usual way.

The question was why?

Did society bore her to a degree where she
felt like reaching for forbidden fruit once in a while? He could offer her an
adventure or two if that meant enjoying her lithe little body in return.

After all, he had nothing more to give to
anyone, and why did something that had been his only truth throughout his
entire life suddenly have the capacity to piss him off?
“Define
often
?” She smiled brightly at him but he was not fooled.
“Too often it means.” Xan decided.
“Hey! I resent that. Photography is more to me than pretty flowers and smiling
children. You need to go further in order to find this
more
. Did you
lose your last fight?” She asked against herself forgetting she wasn’t supposed
to be nosy.
“Why would you think so?” He tilted his head regarding her curiously.
“The bruising… and your mood.”
“I don’t have a habit of losing.” Xan decided to ignore the part about his
mood.

He knew he might have come across as broody
today, but he didn’t appreciate her pointing it out. He should have called her
and cancelled their date but he knew it was unlikely she would have agreed to
go out with him on another occasion. She only did this time around because he
took her by surprise, he supposed, and he was not known for wasting
opportunities.

Although it felt as if he were doing it
now, he admitted.

It should have sounded superior, the way he
said it, but somehow that wasn’t how she took his answer, Catalina thought. It
was more of a statement than showing off, which made her believe him instantly.
“What made you interested in fighting in the first place?” Catalina assumed
that asking him about it was the safest route to take, since it was logical to
assume it was something he seemed good at and passionate about.

Besides, it was the only side of him she
had seen so far.
“Isn’t it every boy’s dream?” His answer was yet again answered with a question
of his own and she knew it was a maneuver people used when they didn’t want to
give anything personal away.
“I don’t know, I have never been one.” She was growing weary of carrying the
weight of this conversation on her shoulder.

She sighed softly, relieved a bit when the
waiter arrived with their drinks on the tray. She had to remind herself that
draining her glass of wine in one long pull would make her look everything but
collected and in control. She watched him raise a glass of water to his lips,
not commenting on his choice of drink.

Even before he leaned back in his chair,
she knew Xan was going to change the subject. It was obvious he didn’t like to
talk about himself. Most of the men she knew excelled at talking about
themselves, bragging about their lives, focused on their egos and being the
center of the universe in general.

The fact that this one here was close-mouthed
made her want to know more about him.

She pouted a bit, wondering if he was aware
of the effect his secretiveness had on her or if this was just who he was
without giving a damn what others thought about it.

Likely the latter, she thought, feeling her
lips curve slightly in amusement.
“Tell me what it is about photography that you like the most?” He asked.
“First of all I don’t
like
photography. I
love
it, it’s my whole
life. It’s hard to find one thing really,” she said with a smile, even though
it was pretty much the very first thing people noticed about her.

And the last one as well, she admitted
inwardly, because it was rare for anyone wanting to delve a bit deeper, make
some kind of an effort. People much preferred to choose superficial and hollow
relations instead, currently being in such high demand.
“Your whole life?” He questioned it, because as much as he understood focus and
devotion, he wondered why a woman like her would prioritize a hobby to such
degree instead of spending time on social events, or whatever the hell it was
rich people did.
“I’ve let it dominate my entire life since the moment I moved to Santa Monica.
I keep promising myself it is temporary but it’s been going on for a while now.
Don’t get me wrong, I love what I do but I need time for other things as well.”
“Such as?”
“I don’t know… surfing, getting to know the city, the whole L.A.?” She laughed
softly which he found charming for some reason.
“I could show you around,” he offered.

Surfing wasn’t his kind of sport, but if he
wanted to see her again he could introduce California to her and show her
places she would have never found on her own otherwise.

After all, the underground was his world
and good girls like her always found the forbidden fruit highly attractive, unable
to say no to what nobody taught them about in their private schools, he smirked
inwardly to himself.
“I bet you would tell me to leave my camera at home though.” She smiled sweetly
and he laughed.
“Depends what you would like to see.”
“Does it mean you are from around here, since you seem to know the scene so
well?”
“No. Where are you from?”

Catalina waited but he had nothing more to
add to his denial, brushing her question aside. It didn’t surprise her at all
that he turned the conversation back at her again, and as much as she didn’t
mind talking about her job or interests, she found it aggravating he didn’t
want to answer even the most basic question about himself in return.

Frustration was an unwelcome intruder and
Cat caught herself drumming her fingers against the surface of the table. She
stilled the movement as fast as she registered it, before it betrayed her
growing vexation.

She smiled warmly at the waiter when he
appeared one more time to take their orders, not letting any of her mood bleed through
to the surface.

She glanced at the menu again, blindly
choosing the first option that got her attention, not really interested in the
food so much.

No, her whole interest was concentrated on
the male sitting in front of her instead.

She waited for Xan to make up his mind and
decide on his dish and when they were alone once again, she looked up at him
wondering what kind of topic would make him feel the most relaxed.

Surely it couldn’t be anything of a private
nature, but his avoidance felt challenging and when she found herself dared,
the only option available was to pick up the gauntlet he was unaware of
throwing.
“What made you choose Santa Monica?” Cat asked instead of answering him,
letting him taste the feeling, but he didn’t seem to notice.

She gritted her teeth when he only shrugged
in response, not even pretending to cooperate with her. She sipped her wine
slowly, observing him over the rim of the glass and the next question slipped
out of her lips… and control.
“Why did you invite me tonight?” She felt his gaze on her.

At first there was nothing in his eyes, as
if all emotions leached out of him. Then something hot started to swirl in
their depths and she wondered, was it temper or something else?

She knew how his temper felt and wasn’t
particularly interested in creating the perfect background for it, but there
was a slow burn inside of her as well now, simmering just under her skin.
“I wanted to see you again. Wasn’t it obvious?”

She was not sure what was worse; his
answering with a question to every single one of hers, or her own
disappointment caused by expecting something more from him.

More what? She didn’t know. But it wasn’t
it
,
she thought.

She was stupid, Catalina decided, releasing
a breath she was unaware of holding off. Did she really think he was going to
drop his guard? That he would answer one question fully without turning tables
on her?

Shadows resided in him, shadows screaming
to be left alone.

No matter which angle she tried, she was
coming to a stop sign informing her there was no entrance allowed, so why was
she pushing him while she knew firsthand that some things were better left
unsaid?

He wanted to see her? Fine, she thought. He
did, but talking was not a part of it?

There was a muscle ticking in his jaw this
whole evening, which surely wasn’t a good sign either, but she was tired of
having the brunt of the conversation left on her.

Catalina respected everybody’s right to
privacy, but she needed something
–
anything
–
to continue and he was like an impenetrable
wall in front of her, reflecting and magnifying the confinements she has been
living with for her whole life.

And just like that she snapped.

Catalina Bennett
,
The Cool One
,
lost it in the
middle of the crowded restaurant. In the middle of what should have been a
perfectly nice dinner. She found herself close to a precipice, close to making
a scene, and the thought, instead of appalling her, felt entirely too tempting.

She put her wine glass aside and stood up,
seeing a surprise registering on Xan’s face. She could still excuse herself and
head toward the ladies’ room to catch a break and calm herself down, Cat
thought.

But for the first time in her life, all
appearances faded away from the forefront of her mind, pushed aside by
something she was not even able to name.
“It was clearly a mistake. I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said quietly,
more to herself than him.

He was already straightening to his full
height as well, but she didn’t give him a chance to react.
“Enjoy your dinner Xan,” was all she said, pivoting on her heels and then she simply
walked away.