His Games, Her Rules

Seventy Four



“Dom, you got a minute?” A familiar voice says as we pull apart.

Dominique and I turn toward the source of the voice to find Oliver standing in front of us, his hands in his pockets with a serious look on his face.

He turns toward me, flashing me a small smile. “Hey, Robyn. You look good.”

I give him a small smile. “Thank you, Oliver.”

“Can we talk? It’s important.” Oliver says to Dominique.

Dominique exhales as he looks at me. I give him a small nod and a tilt of my head toward Oliver, signaling to him that I can handle myself. Dominique leans down to peck my cheeks and every functioning cell in my brain explodes.

“Don’t miss me too much, yeah?” He says as he pulls back to look at me, a small smirk playing on his beautiful, full lips.

I blush, hating every cell in my body for reacting that way to a peck.

“Yeah.”

Dominique turns towards Oliver as I watch them walk toward a corner and disappear through the main entrance to the rooftop.

I wonder what’s got Oliver all riled up.

I take a deep breath, not realizing I’ve been holding my breath until the air leaves my lungs. I grab a glass of wine from a passing tray as I walk toward the barricade to lean against it while I stare at the sea.

Bringing the drink to my lips, I shut my eyes for a second as I sip the drink, the chattering and laughing among Camilla’s friends and guests feels like background noise to me.

“Not enjoying the party?” A voice says next to me, laced with a slightly noticeable Italian accent.

I turn my head around, locking eyes with a pair of deep brown eyes. Carlotta, Dominique’s mother, stands next to me with a big smile on her face. I pull away from the rail as I turn my body to face hers.

“Carlotta, hi,” I say to her, flashing her a small smile.

“I haven’t had a chance to chat with you, to get to know you better.”

I chuckle. “Yeah, me neither.”

“Beautiful dress,” she says.

“All thanks to your son’s personal shopper.”

“Yeah. Dominique’s got an eye for beautiful things,” she says as she gives me a quick once over. “And you’re not an exception, my dear.”

“Um, thanks?”

“You know, William, Dominique’s father used to stare at me the same way Dominique stares at you. Like you’re the only person in the room even though there are hundreds of people present. You’re the only one he sees and he’s got his eyes on you alone,” Carlotta says, her gaze fixed on the sea upfront.

“He was a good man, maybe too good for me, and Dominique’s like his father. Likes to project this image to the world that he’s cold and nothing can get to him, but deep down, he has a good heart and when he cares for someone, he completely cares. And he’s willing to do anything for that person, to love, to care, and to protect that person. And I see the way he looks at you. He really likes you.” She says as she turns to look at me.

I don’t know what to say to this new information and I don’t know how to react.

“I’ve never seen him this happy before. And he seems really happy when he’s with you and I’m glad you found him.”

Did I really find him or did he find me?

“Why did you leave?” I ask, turning toward the barricade as I lean my elbows on the railings with my glass of drink in one hand. “Dominique told me you left when they were young and you never reached out even though they were going through hard times.”

Carlotta exhales and I offer her my wine. She gives me a small nod of appreciation and takes the glass of wine from me, brings it to her lips, and gulps it down her throat. She empties the glass and lets out a breath through her parted lips.

“Nothing,” Carlotta blurts out. “I don’t know why I left, I just… I just wanted something that was never out there,” she turns toward a sight behind her and I follow her gaze.

William, with his wife clinging to his arms, converses with Anthony’s parents. Carlotta sighs and looks away. Does she still love him? Or merely seeing him again after many years is bringing back memories?

“You and Pascal look happy together.”

“Yeah. I like Pascal. I mean I’m happy I met Pascal, but I didn’t leave William for Pascal. I met Pascal three years ago and I told him about what happened between William and me and my kids. He advised me to reach out and I did. Now I’m doubting if it was a good idea. Dominique still hates me.” There’s sadness in her voice as she takes a deep breath.

“Yeah, well, you left when he needed you the most. So what he’s feeling now is just pain, masked as anger.”

Carlotta sighs, “Yeah.”

“Would you talk to him for me? Help me tell him I’m really sorry and I need his forgiveness.”

“Sure. I will try.”

“Thank you, Robyn. You really are an angel,” Carlotta says and I chuckle.

I’m rarely an angel.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Mia Cara,” Carlotta says, with a small smile on her lips.

Did I just say that out loud?

I flash Carlotta a small smile as I turn around, with my back leaning against the barricade, to watch Camilla’s guest. I scan the small gathering consisting of Camilla’s family and Anthony’s family as my gaze falls on Lorenzo on the other side of the room. He smirks at me and winks. I roll my eyes and look away.

What’s his deal? Doesn’t he just give up?

“Someday, it’s gonna be you and Dominique celebrating each other in holy matrimony,” Carlotta says and I choke on my spit.

I turn to look at her, my eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights, as Carlotta smiles at me. I cough, bringing my hand to my lips as I cough into my clenched fist. I have never thought about being anybody’s wife. Ever. And whatever this is, this little game of hearts Dominique and I are playing, I don’t think I want it to end, even though there’s a probability I’m going to leave him hurt when he finds out who I truly am.

And why does the idea of being Dominique’s wife don’t repulse me? And why am I fucking thinking about this in the first place?

“You and Dom have never thought about tying the knot?” Carlotta asks, her brown eyes fixed on me, prying.

“Uh…” I chuckle awkwardly. If only she knows her son and I are not in a relationship. But, what is this? What are we going to call it?

We’ve only had sex once and I plan on doing it again. God, I can’t imagine I just admitted that to myself.

“That’s okay. Take your time.” Carlotta says, a big smile on her lips as she squeezes my shoulder.

“I should join my husband,” she says as she pulls away from the barricade. “You take care of yourself, yeah?” She says in Italian and I nod.

“Si.”

With a small smile, Carlotta walks away as I briefly shut my eyes and let out a small sigh.

Fuck!

God, I need another drink.

I peel myself away from the rail and walk toward the small bar at the corner. Dominique’s yet to be back and I have a feeling the reason Oliver pulled him away has something to do with work. I give the bartender my order when I reach the bar. He gets to work, mixing my order before pouring it into a cocktail glass, a small straw inside, and then he hands it to me.

“Thank you,” I say to the bartender. He nods in response.

“You know it’s wrong for a lady to be drinking alone, right?” A deep voice says as I feel someone’s presence beside me.

I turn toward the smell of expensive cologne as I lock my eyes with dark eyes. Lorenzo smirks at me, his eyes taking me in for the third time tonight.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

I look away as I say, “You know it’s wrong to stare at another man’s woman like that. It’s disrespectful.”

He laughs, the deep sound vibrating through my eardrum. Lorenzo is attractive, sexy, and if a particular blue-eyed man hadn’t stolen my heart and ruined my sex life for any future men, this man beside me would have been a good lay.

“Another man? You may have fooled everyone with your little act, but you and I know you and Dominique aren’t dating. Fucking, maybe. That I can believe.”

I turn to look at him. “And you know that because?”

“Because you are a beautiful woman and you shouldn’t limit yourself to one man when you could get pleasure from anyone. And I happen to like you.”

Boy, do men ever get tired? Of course not. Because they think with their dicks. What a pity.

“Are you asking me out, Lorenzo? Because I’m not interested and I’m never gonna fuck you. Never.”

“How about you grab a couple of drinks with me and hear what I have to offer?”

“She won’t be doing that.” A familiar voice says behind us.

Lorenzo and I turn toward the source of the voice only to find Dominique standing in front of us. He takes a dominant stride toward us, a death glare on his beautiful face as he scowls at Lorenzo who doesn’t seem fazed.

“She won’t be grabbing any drinks with you, Lorenzo.”

Shit. This is not going to end well.

“You know… Dom.” Lorenzo peels himself away from the bar as he stalks toward Dominique and stops in front of him as they stare at each other eye to eye. “I don’t think women enjoy being told what to do. Especially a woman like Robyn. Feisty one you’ve got there.”

I notice the chatter from the guests has died down and everyone is watching, waiting for what’s about to happen.

“You’re right. Robyn is her own woman and I can’t tell her what to do. But you fucking stay away from her. Don’t fucking look at her, don’t fucking talk to her, and don’t you fucking touch her. She’s mine, Lorenzo, you don’t want me to spell that out for you. Mine. If you ever try to hit on her again or go as far as bat your fucking lashes at her…” There’s a long pause as both men glare at each other. Fuming, nose flaring. “You know what I’m capable of, Lorenzo. And we don’t want a repeat of what happened in Monaco, now, do we?”

Monaco. What happened in Monaco?

Lorenzo chuckles, his laugh sadistic. “I’m not fucking scared of you, Dominique. You may intimidate everyone, but you don’t fucking scare me. You and I know you don’t deserve her, why don’t you let someone else touch her the way she’s expected to be touched?” Lorenzo says, his smirk arrogant.

The nerve of this dick.

“And she knows I can fucking do things to her you can never do,” Lorenzo finishes, smirking at Dominique.

I slam my drink down, anger and irritation evident on my face as I march toward Lorenzo, ready to punch him across his squared jaw and wipe his arrogant smirk off his stupid face, but Dominique beats me to it.

The guest gasps as Dominique continuously slams his fist across Lorenzo’s face, breaking his nose in the process. I’m too stunned and shamelessly aroused by how hot Dominique looks right now, to even put a stop to his assault.

“Shit,” Camilla rushes toward her brother and cousin. “Stop!”

Dominique lets go of Lorenzo as he staggers and falls to the floor, groaning as he holds his broken nose that’s bleeding. His eyes effortlessly find me in the room as he heads toward me. For an unknown reason, my heart keeps beating rapidly against my chest as Dominique wraps his hand around mine and leads me out of the party.


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