Playing All the Angles (2 page)

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Authors: Nicole Lane

BOOK: Playing All the Angles
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There was always a next time.

She poured herself a glass of water and drank it, standing beside the kitchen sink. Instead of leaving, he was now stretched out in her bed like a cat in cream, and that thought made her start to tingle pleasantly again. Rather than rejoining him, though, she put on her shoes, threw a sweater on over her clothes, scraped her hair back into a knot, and walked outside.

It was cool enough that her dampness made her shiver, but she wasn’t really cold. She lived in a small complex inside a shopping square, in one of the sought-after corner units. Her entry opened into a courtyard, and she strolled out through it, a pack of cigarettes and lighter in hand, and sat down at one of the stone tables to smoke. She’d just taken her first drag when a neighbor’s door opened and a tall, thin man appeared, dragging his garbage behind him.

She watched him as he went, blowing out an approving lungful of air. He was stunning, with a choppy fringe of dark hair falling across his eyes. The rest was carelessly layered, curling at his square jaw and kicking out over the collar on his polo shirt. He was ridiculously handsome, so much so that Eve laughed. No man had a right to be that pretty.

The man turned toward the sound.

She gave a little wave. “Hello.”

“Hello.” He waved back, taking the few steps required to reach her. “I’m Tad.” He wiped his hands on his legs, then offered her one. “Just moved in.”

“Eve.” She shook his hand, using her chin to indicate her home. “I’m in the corner here. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Thanks. Good to meet you,” he said, grinning. The expression made his face even more angelic than she’d originally thought. She hoped he hadn’t heard the hiccup of a gasp she’d given at the sight. Although, she seemed to be having the same effect on him. Even fresh from sex, wearing what amounted to pajamas, Eve was aware that she could turn any head. It was something she’d grown used to, if never fully comfortable with, and something she’d learned to use to her advantage.

All the D’Amico girls drew attention. Their height alone made them stand out in a crowd. She and her sisters were tall and slim, with the creamy complexions, long, curly lashes, and full red lips of their Irish mother and the strong, beautiful features and thick, rich hair of their Italian father. Isabelle and Alora favored him, with sleek, raven hair and blue eyes. Eve looked most like their black-eyed mother, with a mass of auburn curls and the temper to match.

“That’s a nice flat too,” she said, indicating his door to break the spell they’d cast on one another. “I knew the previous tenants. It’s a good space.”

He nodded. “I like it,” he agreed, glancing around before letting his eyes find her face again. “It seems pretty quiet here as well.”

“Not too bad. A few lager louts during the footie season, but nothing serious.”

“Good. You lived here long?”

“Three years.”

“Oh, so you know the neighborhood, then.” His smile grew a bit wider. “I just moved down from Birmingham.”

“Oh yeah? Culture shock, then? I know the area pretty well.” She smiled back. “Want to sit?”

“Thanks.” He slid a chair out and folded his long legs under the seat beside her. “Bum a smoke?”

“Help yourself.” She tapped the pack, pushing the lighter over with it. “What brings you here?”

“Work. I’m a graphic artist, and I got offered the job of a lifetime, so I came. You? You from here?”

“No. I’m from all over. My father’s in restaurants, and my mother’s in the entertainment industry—well, was, until she had children. So we’ve lived just about everywhere. I just landed here somehow. Suits me, I guess. Here and Paris.”

Tad exhaled a stream of smoke and laughed. “I was supposed to be quitting these. I’d been three weeks without.”

“Aw! Well, no one likes a quitter, I say. Quitters never win.”

He laughed again. It was a nice sound, and she was surprised to find she wanted to hear it again.

“You live alone?” he asked a moment later.

“Yeah. Save for the random squatter. I’ve got my sister’s boyfriend in there just now. She’s away, and he’s miserable. Last week, it was a cousin from out of town. That’s the trouble with having an empty bedroom. People assume you want it filled. You?”

“All by myself.”

“Poor thing. No girlfriend?” She cocked her head to the side. “I’m fishing, by the way. I’m on the prowl.”

“Oh yeah? All right, I’ll play along. I haven’t had one for a while. Losing the last one hit me hard, so I’ve been focusing on work since then. Got a lot of good paintings out of it, but not much else.”

Eve nodded, letting smoke escape from the corner of her mouth. “Bad romance makes great art.”

“True,” he agreed. “So, how about you? Boyfriend? Girlfriend?”

“Mmm, not today,” Eve hummed, appraising him openly. “Maybe in a week or so. Like I said, I’m on the prowl.”

Tad laughed. “A week? That seems an awfully long time to wait. What if we—”

Whatever he’d started to ask disappeared at the sound of her door and footsteps coming up the walk.

She turned to see Dominic, fully dressed but rumpled, coming toward them.

“I was wondering where you disappeared to, Evie love. I woke up, and you were gone,” he said, bending to give her a quick kiss on the cheek before turning to Tad and offering his hand. “Hiya, I’m Dominic.”

“Tad.”

“You nicked my smokes,” he accused, picking up the pack to tap out a cigarette for himself.

As he was lighting it, Eve sighed. “Are you going home now?”

“I thought I’d take you for a curry. I know you’re starved.”

“Then will you go home?”

“Yeah. After a meal.” He winked at Tad. “So, you new here?”

“Just moved in.” Tad stubbed out his own cigarette.

Dominic nodded, taking a drag and blowing smoke.

Eve looked between the two men, then said, “You could come with us to get a curry. You must be hungry after unpacking. It’s just down the road.”

Tad smiled and seemed to consider it for a second, then shook his head and stood up. “Thanks, but I’ve still got a lot to do in there,” he said, gesturing toward his door. “I should get back to it. Good to meet you both. See you round.”

Once he was gone, Eve said with no particular heat, “You’re such a bastard. He was falling in love with me.”

“What?” Dominic asked innocently. “Like you need another bloke following you around. Come on, I’ll feed you.”

“I don’t want to date you, Dominic.” She rose, stretching up to her full height, just a handful of inches shorter than he. “I just want to shag you now and then and pretend it never happens. Why can’t you stick to the plan?”

“Because you’re really hot when you’re angry?” he said with a shrug.

“You’re not funny.” She snorted, walking ahead of him through the courtyard and out the gate to the street.

“You don’t shag me because I’m funny.”

“I don’t know why I do it,” she mused as he caught up with her. That was number one on her list for the therapist. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have any other options. All she needed to do was say yes to any of the men who were asking for an hour of her time. Why she told them she was too busy, and why she let this one come around whenever he felt like it was the mystery to solve. At that moment, she had a feeling that if she’d put just an ounce of effort into it, she would have her answer, but fear stopped her. Maybe she didn’t want an answer.

“I do.” Dominic chuckled, putting an arm around her and interrupting her thoughts.

She shrugged him off. “You think so?”

“Yeah, because the sex is good, and you don’t have to put any work into the relationship. Same reasons I do it…except I think you also get a thrill out of getting one over on your sister.”

“It isn’t a relationship, you prick. And don’t talk about my sister.”

He smiled, wrapping the same arm around her waist and pulling her up close. “It’s the best kind of relationship. No strings. And you know we’ve got a dinner with your parents coming up. It’s their thirtieth anniversary party, so you’ll have to be there.”

“I’m aware.”

“You bringing a date?”

Eve let out a breath. He was incorrigible. “Honestly? I was thinking of bringing Dalia and letting everyone think we were together. Mum’s getting bitchy about me being single, so I’ve been toying with letting her think I’m gay. But knowing my luck, she’d just use it to her social advantage, pretend to be all excited to have a gay child and throw herself into the idea. Next thing I’d know, I’d be having a big gay wedding.”

Dominic laughed aloud. “That would be worth the price of admission.”

“I’m glad you think it’s funny. I’m not kidding, you know.”

“I know. That’s why it’s funny!”

“Shut up,” she grumbled, slapping his chest. “You don’t know what it’s like. My parents adore you.”

“They adore you, too.”

“You can’t even say that with a straight face. They adore Alora and Issie. Me? They adore putting me under a microscope and reminding me of my faults,” Eve groused. “I’m not looking forward to this party.”

Dominic gave her a squeeze. “Don’t worry. I have something in the works that will keep your mum and all the other women in your family clucking in a different direction. They might not even know you’re there.”

Eve stopped walking. “What?” she asked, looking up at him, her brow furrowed. “What plan?”

“I’m going to ask Isabelle to marry me.”

Eve reeled backward, bouncing slightly as she hit the wall of the building behind her. “What?”

“Ring. Proposal. Romantic to do it on your parents’ thirtieth. Blah blah. You know.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Why not? You said yourself that your parents adore me.”

“Dominic! You can’t do that!”

“Going to do it. Look, I love Issie, and I’m not going to find better than her. She wants a family soon, so why not?”

“Because you’re cheating on her and have no intention of stopping!”

He shook his head. “What I have with her is completely separate from what I have with you. Having it off with you now and then doesn’t change how I feel about her.”

She stared at him. “You are not going to marry my sister!”

He raised his eyebrows. “Yes, I am. I’ve already spoken to your parents.”

Eve’s mouth opened, then closed and opened again. She breathed heavily, getting more and more upset. “I won’t let it happen.”

“You don’t have a say in it,” Dominic said, anger rising in his voice.

“I’ll tell her.”

He narrowed his eyes and took a step toward her, then two more to press her back against the wall. “You won’t tell her anything, Evie. Because if you do, you’ll have to admit you’ve been screwing her boyfriend behind her back for over a year, and you’d never do that.”

“If it means saving her from you, I will!”

“No.” His voice was low, his chest so hard against hers that she could feel her breasts flatten. He took hold of her wrists, keeping them at her sides. “No, you won’t. Because you’re already the black sheep, and you’re already on the outside, and you know they would never forgive you for this. And because you still want me, too. Because you love playing all the angles.”

Her protest was swallowed up in his kiss as he forced her lips to part, and then it was his knee between her legs, and the backs of her hands being dragged up the brick wall until they were even with her shoulders. Then he let go of her wrists, seeming to know she would just wrap her arms around his neck.

She hated him. She hated herself. She hated herself for wanting him.

They stood there kissing on the street until a passerby hooted at them, and they parted, Dominic taking her hand. “Food,” he said firmly.

She let him lead her to the Indian place around the corner, and they took a booth in the back. There wasn’t much conversation between them as they looked over the menu and ordered. Eve tried to concentrate on the print but ended up ordering her usual jalfrezi and garlic naan without much thought. The spice would help clear her head. She needed to think. They would eat, and she would send him home.

Halfway through the meal, she announced, “I’ve started seeing a therapist, you know.”

“Have you?”

“Yeah. Just a couple of times now, but I’m hopeful. I’ve got—well, there’s all the things I never really worked through. Things I just packed down and tried to live over—pave over, really. I got the drugs and alcohol under control, and it’s been a very long time since I took a stranger home, but the issues are still there. I’m starting to think—well, I started to think that I needed to address them. I’ve been making some bad, reckless decisions lately. You’re included in those, by the way. I need to make better choices, and I need to get my personal shit together before I really mess up someone’s life.”

“I’m not a bad decision. I’m a great lay.”

“You’re ridiculous, is what you are. And this has to stop, Dom. If it was anyone other than Isabelle, I probably wouldn’t care, but she’s the only one of them who is decent to me. I can’t keep doing this to her. Why aren’t you gone anyway? Whatever happened to Los Angeles? You were half-packed to go.”

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