Perfectly Broken (8 page)

Against her better judgment, she had agreed to
have dinner with Tomas. It could only lead to disaster, but Susanna
had been unable to say no. The truth was that she wanted to be with
him. She had wanted to see him again, but hadn’t thought she
would.

Now, here she was holding his arm. How could she
refuse him when he looked so impossibly handsome? Tomas wore a
brushed suede jacket, showing his broad shoulders to best
advantage. His brown hair was messy and touchable. And his goatee
was neatly trimmed. She remembered how it felt to finger it.

“This okay?” He waited just inside before
stepping up to the greeter to ask for a table.

“Fine.”

They were seated at a small table along a
wood-paneled wall, painted red. It was beside the window, and there
was a tiny vase with three yellow flowers to one side. The table
was dark wood. It seemed romantic, though anywhere with Tomas
probably would have been.

He scanned the wine list. “Is Albariño okay? Or
do you prefer Chardonnay?”

He had remembered what she drank. “Albariño is
fine. This is a Spanish restaurant, so I’ll try something
different.”

Tomas placed the order and then leaned back to
look at her.

“You drink wine?” she said.

“I can. Whiskey is my first choice. But I’m with
you. I thought sharing a bottle would be nice.”

Susanna nodded. “It will be.”

Tomas ran his hand through his hair. “I can’t
believe you are really here.”

She sighed. “I can’t either.” It was to be
expected that he would want an explanation, so she waited for the
question burning on his lips.

He just sat across the table, his pale green
eyes piercing holes into her.

The wine was served, and they each took a sip.
Tomas told the server they were going to drink for a bit, and he
would flag him when they needed to order.

“Very well, sir.”

Alone in the corner of the room, the atmosphere
was tense. Being with him again felt good, and that was scary. But
Susanna decided the best approach was honesty.

“Go ahead,” she said. “Ask me.”

Tomas held his wine glass in midair. “Why were
you at the funeral? How are you related?”

Of course he would ask that
. Susanna took
another sip of wine before speaking. “I was just…hanging out
there.”

He raised his brows. “At a funeral parlor?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Susanna shrugged as if it were nothing, but knew
he would find it strange. “I like to.”

“Don’t they kick you out?”

She shook her head. “Not so far. I go to
different ones. Not the same one all the time.”

His eyes widened. “You hang around funeral
parlors?”

Susanna nodded. “Sometimes.”

“Isn’t it depressing?”

She looked at the color of the wine in her
glass, thoughtful for a moment. “Not really. I find it comforting.
I like to mourn. It makes me feel close to those who have
died.”

Tomas was quiet.

She fingered the stem of her glass. “And I’m
attracted to Gothic stuff, like the architecture of the church.
It’s morbid, but kind of cool.”

He furrowed his brow. “How did all this
start?”

“You’re sure you want to know?” It was only fair
to give him a chance to back out. Susanna would understand.

Tomas held her gaze. “I want to know.”

“It’s a long story, but I’ll give you the
highlights.” As simply as she could, Susanna described her
situation. She didn’t discuss it with anyone. Except Rowan.
Otherwise, she was a private person. But there was something about
Tomas that made her want to tell him.

He leaned forward on his elbows and waited for
her to go on.

“I’m an orphan, or I was. My birth mother gave
me up. I never knew her. I went through a whole foster-care thing,
which was a nightmare. I’ll skip over that part. Eventually, I got
adopted by some wonderful people. Irena and Joshua Peters were
amazing. They were kind to me, even though I was pretty messed up
by the time they got me.”

A tear rolled down her cheek, and she bit back
her grief. Tomas touched the back of her hand with his fingertips.
“Go on.”

“The thing is, I’m all alone now. The Peters
died in a car accident about a year and a half ago. Fortunately, I
was already of age so I didn’t have to go back into the foster
system.”

“How old are you?”

“I turned twenty-one last October.”

Tomas stroked her arm with his fingertips. “But
why the attachment to funerals?”

She bit her lip. “I know it doesn’t make sense,
but it makes me feel close to them. And to my birth mother.”

He tilted his head. “I thought you didn’t know
her.”

Susanna looked into his eyes, assessing if she
should trust him. “No, I didn’t. But it bothered me, you know, the
fact that she would give me up. So Irena helped me find her.” Tears
welled up.

Tomas squeezed her hand.

Susanna wiped away a tear with her finger.
“Only, by the time we found her, Eva Finn was already dead.”

“What did she die of?”

“Drug overdose.” Susanna dried her tears with
her napkin. “I’m sorry. It’s hard to talk about.”

His pale green eyes looked soft. “That’s such a
sad story.”

She sighed. “I guess so. Anyway, for some
reason, when I go to funerals it’s like I can feel the dead. Or
their presence, anyway. In a weird way, I just feel connected. Does
that make any sense?”

Tomas frowned. “If it makes sense to you, then
that’s all that matters.” He paused. “So why were you there
tonight?”

Susanna felt her cheeks warm. “I wanted to be
close to you. And I was afraid to go to the hotel.”

“I’m very much alive.”

She smiled. “Yes, I can see that. I didn’t
expect to find you there. That part was a surprise. But it’s where
I first saw you.” She looked into his eyes. “Sentimental, I
suppose.”

Tomas took a gulp of wine and replaced his
glass. “If you wanted to see me, then why wouldn’t you give me your
phone number?”

She rubbed her fingertips over the wood
tabletop. “I don’t see guys more than once.”

“You’ll have to explain that one, because I
thought it was good with us. Wasn’t it?”

“The sex. Yes. It was good.” She twirled her
glass, thinking of how to make him understand. “I told you. It
wouldn’t work out.”

His eyes gleamed. “Give it a chance. Get to know
me. I’m not that bad.”

Susanna looked at the sexy man across from her.
He looked safe, friendly, and warm. Plus hot. Very hot. Tomas was
masculine with his firm jaw and bulked up muscles. How his arms
felt around her was memorable.

“It’s not you.” Susanna glanced at her empty
glass, and Tomas refilled it. “Let’s just say I’m not a one-man
woman.”

She watched the look on his face to see if he
understood. She really didn’t want to spell it out.

Tomas grinned. “I like a challenge,” he said
with a sparkle in his eyes.

She just stared.

He flagged the waiter that they were ready to
order, leaving Susanna to wonder what she had gotten herself into.
Men were easy to control. It was nothing to go from one to the
other. The expression on his face gave her the idea she might be
looking at the first man she couldn’t wrap around her finger. The
thought was terrifying.

* * * * *

The more Susanna told him about herself, the
less Tomas understood her. Or maybe it was just that he had never
met anyone quite like her. She was delicately beautiful, yet the
motif she chose was black. The tight dress she wore was a black
stretchy fabric that enhanced the look of her ample breasts.

The thick, dark lines around her eyes gave her a
mysterious look, and matched the sadness she described. Her pale
skin contrasted starkly with the dark colors Susanna chose to wear.
Though every word she used to describe her past was somber, there
was vibrant life in her that sparked irresistible attraction. Tomas
was enchanted.

She picked up her wine glass. “What are you
looking at?”

“You.”

Susanna blushed.

He admired the flush in her cheeks, wanting to
be the cause, like he had been when she had climaxed in his arms.
“I didn’t think you were the blushing type.”

She sipped her wine with a casual air. “I’m
not.”

He smiled.

The waiter came by as requested, and they
ordered. Susanna chose the crispy duck in filo pastry. Something
about sexual arousal stirred other appetites, and Tomas ordered the
ten-ounce prime Irish steak. He was hungry, and the longer he
looked at Susanna, the hungrier he became.

Susanna held the stem of her glass and lifted it
to her lips. “So you know about me. How about you?”

He shrugged. “What do you want to know?”

She held her glass in both hands. “How old are
you?”

“Turned twenty-two earlier this month. I did two
years of college in Boston, but couldn’t take any more. I’m ready
to work. Study doesn’t suit me.”

Susanna furrowed her brow.

“What?”

She rubbed her thumb over the bowl of her glass.
“Two years of college? Didn’t you graduate when you were
eighteen?”

Tomas was embarrassed. For some reason it was a
sore subject. In high school it had been a source of ridicule, and
it still made him feel stupid.

She raised her eyebrows.

“I flunked a year.”

“How did you manage to do that?”

Fortunately, she didn’t seem critical of him,
just interested. “Lack of focus, I guess. I got hooked on computer
games and got behind. My parents were horrified. They didn’t see it
coming. I hid it from them for as long as I could.”

“So you were a year older than the others in
your class?”

He nodded. “Yes, and don’t think I wasn’t called
dummy, too many times to count.”

Susanna shook her head. “Hmm. Guys in high
school can be ruthless.”

“It was the cause of more than one fight.”

“I can imagine.” She sipped her wine. “So what
happened?”

“I got back to studying.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Gave up computer
games?”

He chuckled. “No way. They were the only thing
that made the whole school thing endurable. But I did my schoolwork
first. I couldn’t face any more ridicule.”

Tomas watched Susanna, but it didn’t seem that
she thought any less of him. The fact that she had been honest with
him compelled him to be the same. She was a different sort of
woman, and had a certain raw vulnerability. It was refreshing, as
Tomas had never been much good at social pleasantries.

He refilled their glasses and watched her take a
sip, remembering how her lips felt on his.

“So what’s the job you got?”

That was a subject he liked to talk about.
Sitting up, Tomas filled her in.

She seemed interested. “You have a career,
legally gambling?”

“You could say. Actually, sports betting is all
about helping the clients place their bets. It involves some
serious cash, and that kind of risk I find exhilarating.”

Susanna gave him a coy smile. “You’re a guy who
likes risk?”

Tomas didn’t miss the double meaning there. “I’m
not one to avoid it. And there is a certain thrill in high stakes,
wouldn’t you say?”

Her eyes held his. “Yes. I think we have that in
common.”

“Going for the high stakes?”

“The thrill of it.”

Tomas felt heat flood his belly and settle in
his loins. The woman was a tease, and she did it so well. Yet he
knew she wasn’t all talk. The agreement had been just dinner, but
he hoped she would change her mind. No,
prayed
she
would.

The meals were served, and Tomas was momentarily
distracted by the juicy steak. When he had eaten half of it, he
refocused on Susanna. Even eating was a sensual experience with
her. Watching her cut off a precise bite and slowly slide it into
her mouth turned him on.

The way her lips slipped over the fork, and the
way she lightly held her knife in the other hand, tantalized him.
She half closed her eyes in response to the food, as though the
taste was a prelude to orgasm. And it just might be.

“Enjoying yourself?” he said.

She pressed her lips together. “Mmm, yes, I
am.”

Tomas continued eating, not really taking his
eyes off of her. It seemed she was aware of his staring, but
undeterred. Susanna continued to savor, bite by bite, taking a sip
of wine occasionally. He wanted to order more food just so he could
keep watching her eat.

Then a thought occurred to him, and he stopped
with his fork midair.

Susanna looked up at him.

“The day we met, I was chasing you. You kept
vanishing.”

She widened her eyes.

He furrowed his brow. “But it was the other way
around, wasn’t it?”

Susanna swallowed. “What do you mean?”

“I think you know. Just tell me. How did you
happen to end up at the same bar that I did? How did we end up in
bed together?” Tomas thought he already knew, but he wanted to hear
her say it.

Looking directly at him, her blue eyes clear,
Susanna told it to him straight. “I pick up guys at funerals. I
told you, being so close to death makes people crave life, and sex
is an embodiment of that.”

He looked at her pointedly. “By
people
you mean
men
?”

Without flinching, she answered his question.
“Yes, men. I pick up men. There, are you satisfied?”

Feeling unnerved by the realization, he
continued to press. “So the whole I-don’t-want-to-be-alone thing
was a pickup line?”

She nodded. “It’s effective.”

Tomas was ticked off. “I don’t like being
manipulated.”

Unruffled, she replied, “Don’t you? You seemed
to enjoy it at the time.”

He gripped his fork. “You played me.”

Her blue eyes gleamed. “I wanted you.”

The silence extended.