Page 34 of His to Love
His voice had deepened by the time he finished the sentence. My heartbeat went more erratic. All I did was mention stars. And I racked my brain for a restaurant called the Palace Terrace but came up empty. Still, whatever he was doing, he seemed to think it would please me.
“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice thick with unease and surprise.
—
“Your home is called the Palace?” I asked with wide-eyed wonder as the car pulled into a wide, curved drive.
Not that I didn’t get why. It was massive, with peaks, gables, and gray stone that gave it the appearance of a castle. His home must sit on acres. I couldn’t see another home or even a streetlight anywhere in the vicinity as we drove up his driveway. I realized that I hadn’t seen any for several minutes before that.
But there was one thing I clearly saw as my eyes scanned around me after he assisted me out of the car.
Millions of things, actually.
Stars. Millions of bright lights danced all over the sky and my stomach fluttered and flipped.
Then it did the strange warm, flipping thing again when he guided me toward his house.
“Some of my men took to calling it that when it was my father’s place, and the name stuck.”
I nodded, only barely listening to him. My eyes flickered between the house and the sky and I was so overwhelmed that I almost felt the need to stop and catch my breath.
Without much fanfare, he opened the front door and ushered me in. He continued guiding me, a gentle hand at the small of my back, through his house. I could barely take in the opulence as I got small, fleeting glances, but everything I saw screamed rich and fabulous and money in an incredibly elegant way. Much like my own home. These men not only had power, they had class, despite the fact they ran the seedy underbelly of Detroit and other cities in neighboring states.
The thought, the reminder, was heady and I almost stumbled over my own feet. Trying to hide my discomfort, I blurted, “Did your wife decorate this house?”
Malik’s jaw went tight, and an indescribable mixture of pain and fury boiling in his onyx eyes made me look away.
Clearly I had blurted out the wrong thing.
“Sorry,” I muttered quickly. “I’m so sorry.”
I was going to apologize again when Malik reached for a sliding glass door, opening it without a sound.
The cool breeze that billowed in helped me breathe again.
“It’s fine.”
It wasn’t fine. I only knew his wife died approximately five years ago, but it was clearly still a sensitive topic. Silently, I cursed my brain to filter malfunction.
The horrific energy continued to pulse off of him while he led me to a beautifully decorated outside dining area on his covered patio. Small, twinkling white lights were wound around wood beams and through an overhead trellis. The table had been set with china and crystal, and there was a set of candles in the center of the table. They were well-used, all melted at different heights and, combined with the glitter of the lights, they created an incredibly romantic setting.
My pulse leaped inside my chest as I took my seat. Behind me, Malik pushed my chair in. I fought for more words to apologize, to get us over my fumble while he sat down in the seat across from me. His square jaw, completely free from any hint of stubble, was still flexed tightly and his hands fidgeted with the silverware before he finally pulled his eyes up and landed them straight on me.
I swallowed, so unsure of what was to come when it seemed as if he was fighting to relax.
“No one speaks of her anymore.”
Blinking rapidly, I—again—stupidly said, “Why?”
Gah! Shut up.I reached for a glass of ice water and took a large sip. Perhaps I could choke on an ice cube and die.
With a heavy sigh, Malik looked away from me into the darkness of his yard behind me. I felt him go to another world as his eyes glassed over and his features softened. Even at forty-three, his attractiveness was certainly undeniable.
I had only vague memories of his wife, when she had accompanied him to events I was allowed to attend or dinners at my house. I remembered she was beautiful and refined, with a hand always on Malik’s forearm and a smile that seemed more slick and calculating than warm and loving.
But it wasn’t for me to judge someone else’s relationship when I’d had so few of my own.
“Analise passed in her sleep, in our bed, of unexplainable causes.”
