“No,” he says.
“Right. So what I’m smelling is your new whiskey-and-skank cologne, then?”
“Yes, I did have a few drinks downstairs. And yes, I was sitting near a woman who had on too much perfume. That’s the truth. Okay?”
Luka’s tired but calm voice both comforts and angers me.Near a woman?Who the hell does he think he is? Which woman, and how near?
“Was it Monica?” I prod.
“Look, I’m trying to be open with you, but this interrogation is getting in the way of what I came up here to tell you,” he says, sidestepping the question. “We need to talk.”
Still groggy and emotionally bruised, I scoot off the bed and go to the mini fridge.
“Why, so you can tell me about your affair?” I find a big bottle of sparkling water that probably costs twenty dollars and crack it open, taking a long drink. Ah. Slightly better.
I plop back onto the bed, waiting for his answer. I feel shaky. My stomach is in a knot and my pulse is pounding. But I’ve had enough of this shit. I need the truth.
“I am not having an affair with Monica Shore,” Luka says.
“Oh no? Despite evidence to the contrary?” I scoff, pointing disgustedly at the chair where I threw the offending undergarment. “Those were inyour pocket.”
Luka glances over at the thong and then rubs his face, shaking his head a little.
“I know it looks bad. But—”
“You know what? Go ahead and talk, Luka. I’m actually looking forward to hearing you try to bullshit your way out of this.”
Leaning back against the headboard, I take another slug from the bottle of Pellegrino, half wishing it were booze instead of water. Luka’s eyes are pleading, and he leans forward.
“Monica put the underwear in my pocket during dinner tonight. She just told me about it downstairs when we bumped into each other at the bar—I didn’t even know she’d done it. She was trying to flirt with me or fuck with you, or both. But I swear, it’s not proof of anything.”
Studying his face, I almost believe him. Sounds like Monica’s M.O.
On top of that, there’s not a single trace of deception in his tone. Not a waver. No hesitation. Just clear, decisive words and a steady gaze that doesn’t break away from mine.
“I know you think I’m sleeping with Monica. And yeah, she’s been trying to make a move on me since we got here. But I’ve been blowing her off at every turn, because she doesn’t register anywhere on my radar.
“I’m not with her, and I don’t want to be with her. I want to be with you.Onlyyou.”
I look anywhere but at him. I don’t know what to think. My heart wants to believe him but I’ve gotten burned by this relationship so many times already. How can I trust him?
“Why did you come on this trip with her? Why you and not Stefan?”
He shrugs. “Guy asked me personally. Probably because he’s dealt with me during this whole process and not my brother. Look, I didn’t ask to come. I didn’t even want to. This isn’t my thing anymore. But I can’t risk pissing off the client who is basically floating us right now.”
It’s hard to argue with that. Losing the Maxilene campaign won’t do DRM any good.
“You should have told me in advance that you were coming here with her.”
“Yes, I should have told you. I fucked up. Honestly, I knew you’d be upset and I didn’t have the mental space to deal with it. But it wasn’t fair to you. I should have handled it better.”
Damn. I wasn’t expecting complete transparency…or an apology like this.
“Thank you,” I say, my tone soft.
Luka moves closer and sits facing me so our knees touch. Desire flares through me with the contact. As he searches my face with those dark eyes, I can hardly stand not touching him.
“I’m sorry I overreacted,” I tell him.