Twisted By Love, Reincarnation Tales, Book 1 (13 page)

No wonder she’d fallen asleep at her desk,
he’d kept her up too late.

“I’m sorry your day was hell.” His instinct
was to take her in his arms. But he’d been pushing for too much too
fast, and Livie needed to come to him on her own.

“And now I’m sounding like a whiner.”

“No,” he said gently.

She drew a deep breath, looked at him. “Would
you mind driving? I’m not up to handling the traffic.”

At six, the traffic would still be a bitch.
“No problem.”

He chirped her remote, then opened the car
door for her. “Why don’t we go out for a bite? Your sister won’t
have to see us together. Then I’ll take you home.” He lifted her
chin with his finger. “And I promise not to beg you to let me
stay.”

She looked at him a long time, her eyes
unreadable in the dim light of the garage. “What I really want is
to take off my shoes, get into my sweats, and eat a big bowl of
wonton soup.”

He let his mouth lift in a smile. “I can pick
up my car and get the soup while you go inside and grab your
sweats. You can meet me at my place.” He was still pushing, dammit,
but he didn’t want to leave her. “Go home whenever you’re
ready.”

She considered him a long moment. “What
Chinese place do you go to?”

“King Hunan, down on El Camino.”

“They have great wonton soup.” The glimmer of
a smile curved her lips. “Deal.”

He almost wanted to punch the air. But he
refrained. After all, he’d won. Anything else would be
unsportsmanlike conduct.

Chapter Twelve

The King Hunan version had loads of
vegetables, yummy shrimp, and to-die-for wontons. Bern had gotten a
large order for her and broccoli beef with rice for himself. Livie
stole a piece of his broccoli.

Instead of using his kitchen table, he’d
carried the boxes into the family room, set them on the coffee
table, and thrown some pillows on the floor to sit on.

“Thanks. This is just what I needed.” Right
along with not having to face Toni when she’d run up to her condo.
Livie was relieved Toni hadn’t answered any of her calls
either.

“In addition to the comfy sweats?” Bern
asked.

They didn’t have any holes in them, but they
weren’t sexy either. Bern didn’t seem to care. He’d traded his suit
for faded jeans, though his jeans were a darn sight sexier on him
than she felt in her sweats.

The house had no formal living room or dining
room. When she was growing up, those rooms never got used, and they
were a waste of space. The great room he’d seated them in was
outfitted with a large leather sofa, two overstuffed leather
armchairs, and a monstrous flat screen TV. The kitchen was
spacious, with a large eating nook that overlooked the nicely kept
back garden. The place wasn’t new, but he’d kept it in pristine
condition, and the carpet was plush beneath her bare feet. The hall
down which he’d disappeared earlier had four doorways, so she
figured it was a three-bedroom, two-bath home.

He hadn’t forced the rest of the house on
her, the bedrooms, to be specific, as if he sensed she wasn’t ready
for that.

She finished another wonton, wanting to groan
with pleasure. She resisted. “I’m not crazy,” she told him.

“I don’t think you are.”

She’d been embarrassed by her overshare in
the garage, from the nightmare to Mr. Donaldson’s dressing-down to
Julia suggesting a therapist. “It’s just these nightmares. I was so
tired.”

“My sister’s a psychiatrist,” he said.

Livie stopped dead, a shrimp splashing back
into her bowl.

“What I’m saying is that I have nothing
against psychiatrists. I don’t think people who see them are crazy.
Sometimes you need to talk about something you can’t tell anyone
else.”

He sounded so reasonable as he deftly scooped
up a broccoli flower with his chopsticks. Livie had never mastered
chopsticks.

“Does that mean you’ve gone to a
psychiatrist?” she challenged him.

“No. But my sister’s special. She does
hypnosis. And I’ve let her hypnotize me. That’s how I quit
smoking.”

“You smoked?”

“Yeah. She helped me quit fifteen years ago.
So you could say I’m a believer.”

She gestured at him with her spoon. “And you
think she could hypnotize the dreams out of me?”

He laughed. “It’s not quite that simple. But
you said you had them when you were a kid, and sometimes hypnosis
can get at the root cause fairly quickly. It’s regression hypnosis.
She takes you back to your childhood.”

Livie shivered. “I’m not sure I want to go
back there.”

“She’s told stories of people being cured
after one session.”

“Cured?” He obviously thought there was
something wrong with her.

He dished more broccoli beef onto his plate.
“Sometimes reliving something takes away its power, and it no
longer causes problems.”

She was definitely having a problem since
she’d screamed in the office. But a psychiatrist? And his sister to
boot? She’d just met the man after all. And here she was revealing
all her deep, dark secrets.

Still, she’d slept with him. Not just sex,
but sleeping. Somehow that was more intimate. “I don’t think I’m
ready for that.”

“I’m pressuring you again.” He didn’t
apologize, merely stating it as fact.

“I need time,” she said, concentrating on her
soup. She needed time because the truth was that he hadn’t
pressured her. She’d called him. She’d put condoms in the drawer.
She’d given him the keys to her car. There was symbolism in that. A
woman doesn’t hand over her keys to just anyone.

In the kitchen, his cell phone began to ring
with an old-fashioned landline tone. “It can go to voice mail,” he
said as explanation when he didn’t immediately rise to answer
it.

“I won’t ask you to spend the night,” he
said, as if her jumble of thoughts were written on her face.
Leaning close, he stroked her cheek. “I’m not even going to seduce
you.”

She wished he’d do just that and take the
decision out of her hands. “You probably think I’m a freak, not
knowing my own mind, changing it constantly. It’s just that it’s
hard to think when I’m around you.”

“That’s not such a bad thing.”

He might be right. There was something
exciting about getting carried away. “But I hardly know you. I’ve
never been like this with anyone, impulsive and...” She paused. And
what? Drawn to him? He made her want to throw caution to the winds.
Her reaction to him frightened her. She was too intense with him.
And when you got emotional, things usually ended badly. “I don’t
know,” she finished softly because she couldn’t say any of that
aloud.

Her phone started buzzing on the coffee
table. They both looked as the vibration turned it round slowly.
She could see the readout. Toni. That’s what it all came down to.
Her sister. She could probably handle the intensity, but she
couldn’t handle Toni.

She snatched the phone up. Unlike him, she
couldn’t just let it ring; it would go on and on ten times.
“Hi.”

Bern was looking at her, his gaze suddenly
dark, his features tense.

“Where are you? I’m waiting here for you.”
Toni punctuated with a little sob.

“Waiting where?”

“At your place.”

Livie looked down at the bowl she’d set on
the carpet. The soup was growing cold. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s ignoring me.”

The boyfriend again. She glanced at Bern. His
gaze was steady, yet unreadable. He didn’t move, didn’t touch the
food on his plate. He simply watched.

She chose her words carefully, though really,
did it even matter? He didn’t know Toni. “I’ve told you that you
need to move on.”

“He’s got someone else.”

A chill slithered down her spine. “How do you
know he does?”

Toni paused. Far too long. “It’s just a
feeling.”

Toni could get a little obsessive. All right,
a
lot
obsessive. Was she spying on him? “I’ll be home in a
little bit.” Then she lied. “I had to work late, but I’m near the
airport so I won’t be long.” Too late she thought about the fact
that she was wearing her sweats. How would she explain that? She’d
think up an excuse on the way home. “Just stay put, okay?”

“Okay.” Toni sniffed.

“All right, see you soon, bye.” Bern studied
her intently as Livie ended the call. “I’m sorry,” she told him. “I
have to go. My sister.” She shrugged meaninglessly. “She’s not
feeling well.” His silent regard unnerved her, and she said more
than she should. “Trouble with a man. He dumped her. Just like a
man,” she said flippantly, nervously, “taking what he wants, then
dropping her flat.” Damn. That didn’t sound good. Like she was a
male basher. Or thought Bern would do the same. She needed to shut
up. Right now. And get out.

Everything about him was tense, rigid. “You
didn’t tell her where you really were.”

She shouldn’t have lied so blatantly in front
of him. Why had she answered that damn call? “I did mention that
she and I have some issues.”

“Yeah. You did.” His tone was sharp.

“It’s just easier for me to keep my stuff
private.” She scrambled to her feet, bending to pick up the bowl,
then held it uncertainly, her phone in her other hand. He remained
right where he was, still seated on the floor, watching her.
“Thanks for dinner,” she said, uncomfortable now. “Sorry I can’t
stay.”

Finally she fled to the kitchen, leaving the
soup on the counter and retrieving her purse. When she turned, he
filled the doorway, big, dominating.

“Livie.”

Her heart pounded, a reaction to his
intensity. Then he snaked out a hand, wrapped it around her nape,
and pulled her to him. The kiss was hard and openmouthed. She
tasted the tangy sauce and the spiciness of man. He overwhelmed
her. She clutched his shirt with one hand, her purse and phone with
the other. She let him devour her until Toni’s needs no longer
mattered.

Then he eased her back down to earth, her
feet once again flat on the floor.

“Don’t let her stop you.” That was all he
said.

Livie touched her lips, then backed away.
Toni always stopped her. Toni always would. Her sister was like a
rope binding her.

Bern might very well be the one to undo those
bonds. Or he might simply undo her.

* * * * *

It was like a hand reaching inside his chest
and ripping his heart out. He stood in the front doorway long after
she’d gone. The night air chilled him to his bones.

In the kitchen, he glanced at his phone. The
screen prompted him that he had a new message. He knew exactly who
it was from. She’d called him, then only moments later, Livie’s
cell began to ring.

He could still see the name on her phone.
Toni. He was an idiot. He remembered that first night when Livie
told him her last name. It had turned out to be the goddamn cosmic
joke he’d feared. Toni. Short for Antonia. He should have asked her
sister’s name right then, but no, he was just a like a man and took
what he wanted.

Now he was totally screwed. How the hell was
he going to explain
he
was the man who had dumped her
sister?

He wished to God she’d said a little bit
more. Maybe he should have asked. He tried to rub the ache from his
forehead. It didn’t work. He had to tell Livie before it all blew
up in his face. But how?

Just like a man, taking what he wants, then
dropping her flat.

But that wasn’t what he’d done. It had been
nothing more three casual dates. Antonia—Toni—must have claimed
they’d had sex. She’d lied, made everything sound worse and laid
the blame squarely at his feet.

But the worst? Livie had denied him. She’d
lied about where she was, what she was doing, and who she was
with.

He’d tried taking her back with that kiss,
but it hadn’t accomplished his goal. She’d left anyway.

Damn Antonia Scott. She was going to ruin him
and Livie.

* * * * *

Toni’s hand shook as she unlocked Livie’s
door. She’d raced to beat Livie. Once inside, she slammed the door
and tripped on the carpet as she rushed to the small dining table
to throw her purse down. Luckily, she hadn’t turned an ankle.
Dragging off her jacket, she tossed it on the chair. What else?
Shoes. She flipped off her high heels. Then she marched into the
kitchen straight to the fridge. That’s what she always did, check
Livie’s fridge.

She was breathing hard as she leaned down to
survey the contents. Nothing good. Except the half full bottle of
wine in the door. Chardonnay. Cakebread. A fuse blew in her
brain.

Goddamn Livie. She had Bern’s favorite wine.
He’d probably brought it with him last night.

“I
hate
you,” she hissed through
gritted teeth. She could have been saying it to either of them,
both of them.

While Livie lied about working late—driving
by the airport, almost home, don’t go anywhere—Toni had been parked
on Bern’s street and looking straight at Livie’s car.

Her sister was a complete bitch. Toni
shuddered with anger as she yanked the bottle out of the fridge and
crashed it on the counter. It should have broken; she wished to God
it had broken.

They would pay. But she had the advantage.
Because neither of them knew she’d seen what they’d been up to. Was
tonight the night to spring it on Livie?

Toni sucked in a breath and felt deliciously
sexual. As if cruelty and desire went hand-in-hand.

She poured the wine, downed half the glass,
and felt the rush of cold through her whole body. The alcohol
weakened her knees.

The front door opened. Livie hadn’t been far
behind her. What had Toni interrupted? The act itself? Had he been
inside Livie?

Tears of anger, frustration, desire, and
excitement welled up in her eyes. Toni took another swallow,
smaller this time, wiped her sleeve across her mouth, then filled
the glass to the brim.