Simon Says (18 page)

“Sort of like, you made your bed and now you intend to lie in it?”

Her chin lifted. “Something like that.”

“When you remarry—”

She laughed. “Yeah, right. Me, marry again? No, thanks.”

For now, Simon let that pass. Talking about marriage made him uneasy. Already he didn't want Dakota with anyone else, yet it was way too soon to think about her with him on a permanent basis. “Let's backtrack a minute. You said your mother didn't want you to see Marvin Dream, so you ran away.”

“I was such a fool.”

“Did Marvin know how your mother felt?”

“Oh, yeah. Mom told him to his face. At the time, I was so embarrassed that she'd treated me like a kid. Now…”

“Now you understand how she felt.”

Her knee touched his thigh. Her hand clenched on his shirt. “Took me long enough. Too long, in fact.”

“You eloped?”

“Just like a fairy tale, huh? Marvin was older and handsome, and strong, and he told me we didn't need anything from my mother as long as we had each other. I left behind most of my clothes and books and…everything. Marvin said he'd buy me whatever I needed.” She shook her head and gave a hoarse laugh. “These days, anything I need I prefer to get for myself.”

Except that Barnaby had something she wanted, and she couldn't get it for herself. Simon frowned, pushing that thought and the guilt it caused to the back burner; he had other, more pressing issues to resolve right now. “What did Marvin do to you?”

“He was a creep, that's all.”

“I'm sure. But he was more than that, wasn't he?”

“Maybe.” Dakota looked at his restraining hand still on her wrist.

Simon let her go, only to lace his fingers with hers instead. It wouldn't be easy to remember her fear, when he thought of her as so indomitable and outspoken, confident in every situation. “Tell me.”

She gave up. “How about I give you the short story? Tomorrow, if you want more of the details, I can elaborate then.”

Simon easily read her. She thought that tomorrow, he wouldn't want to know. She honestly believed he'd give up on her. “All right.”

After a deep breath, she gave him the explanations he wanted. “Our marriage was a farce from the start. Marvin was abusive. By the time I realized it, I was stuck. And then it didn't even matter because I returned home too late to ever see my mother again.”

“When you said short story, you meant it.”

“The details are…embarrassing.”

Simon lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Of all the things I want, what I want most is for you to be comfortable with me.”

She laughed. “Really? Now why do I find that so hard to believe?”

“Because you were married to an asshole, and you haven't dated much since.”

Expression bemused, she said, “It was a rhetorical question, Simon.”

“I know.” He lifted her hand again, and this time he kissed her wrist. “You assume I want sex first and foremost, right?”

“You did tell me that you thought I was sexy and that you hoped to get laid.”

Remembering that less than auspicious moment, his mouth quirked. “You're very sexy, and I definitely want you. I know it'll happen eventually, so I can be patient. But trust, that's something else entirely.”

“You want me to trust you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you trust me?”

“I'm starting to.”

“
Starting
to?” She yanked her hand away, but she was smiling, too.

Simon leaned forward and kissed her. “One step at a time, Dakota.” And while they were both stepping…Simon's arm went around her. “About your marriage—I take it the honeymoon didn't last long?”

“A few weeks, maybe a month.” As if they'd known each other longer, Dakota settled in beside him, putting her head into the crook of his shoulder. “We were poor, but at seventeen, who cares about money or material possessions?”

Most everyone he knew, regardless of age, but Simon didn't say so.

“I had Marvin and for a while that seemed like enough. Then I realized what he expected from me, when I'd never had that many responsibilities. He insisted that I work, which was okay except that it wasn't easy to get a decent job at seventeen. He helped me to fudge my age and get hired on at some seedy places. He also wanted me to keep our rundown apartment looking good, buy the groceries, do the laundry, have dinner ready for him every night, and…” She quieted, the words falling off into nothingness.

Without her saying it, Simon knew what Marvin had wanted: He'd expected her to keep him satisfied in bed.

He was glad that Dakota couldn't see him or the anger in his expression.

“None of that was
horrible
,” she explained. “But he didn't want me to visit my mother either because he knew she didn't like him. I felt guilty about the last fight we'd had. I wanted to talk to her, to show her that I was doing all right for myself so she wouldn't worry. And I wanted to see if she'd softened toward me at all.”

“Marvin refused to let you see her?”

She nodded. “We argued about it.” Agitated, Dakota shifted, looked up at him, then away. “I told him I was going to see her no matter what he said, and he slapped me. Not a punch or anything, but it blacked my eye. I didn't want my mother to see that, so I didn't go.”

Simon had expected physical abuse, but having it confirmed made his gut clench. He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing at all. He knew the story was going to get worse, and he braced himself.

“After that first time, he lost his temper a lot, sometimes for no reason at all. Every time he got mad, the situation got worse. I realized that I'd made a colossal mistake. But after a few months, when I'd had enough and knew I had to leave, he…” Dakota faltered, drew another breath. She tilted her head back and locked her gaze with Simon's. “He raped me.”

S
IMON
went cold inside.

Rushing into defensive speech, Dakota said, “I know, everyone thinks a husband can't rape a wife, but—”

“I'm not everyone.”

She paused, and her small nod thanked him. “It wasn't like being attacked by a stranger. I know there's a difference, a huge difference. I really do. But Marvin made sure that I'd hate what he did to me. He deliberately made it an ugly punishment.”

Plain and simple, Simon wanted to kill the bastard. If Marvin Dream were to materialize right now, Simon would demolish him with pleasure.

“Afterward,” Dakota whispered, “when he finished with me and started to stand up, I was so furious, so sickened and so afraid and fed up, that I kicked him in the face.”

“Good for you.”

“I was still wearing my shoes.”

“I hope you broke his goddamned nose.”

“No. But I did bloody it. And seeing his own blood did something to Marvin. He went crazy. Crazier than I'd ever seen him.” Dakota sat up, moving away from Simon. “He stabbed me.”

A rush of heat chased away the chill of Simon's anger.
“What?”

“He had a switchblade that he always carried. Not a teeny tiny one, but not exactly a giant blade either. I'd seen it plenty of times because he'd get it out and show it off to people, or he'd just sit and polish it, sometimes for an hour or more.” Dakota twisted a little, lifted the hem of her sweatshirt, and showed a narrow scar on her left side below her ribs.

Staring at that thin cut, Simon's vision blurred. “Jesus.”

So unemotional that it spooked Simon, she said, “That's the worst one, and none of them are really bad.” Then she raised the sleeve on her right arm and showed another silvery scar on her forearm. “He got me here, too, and once on my thigh. After that, he just looked at me, like maybe he was shocked, too. He punched a hole in the wall and stormed out of the apartment.”

“The police—”

“I didn't tell them right away. I wanted to leave, but I didn't have my own car, and wasn't sure when Marvin might come back. I didn't really have any friends or anyplace to go. I'd alienated my mother, and put myself in that situation, and I was so…embarrassed and ashamed of myself.”

Simon wanted to crush her close, but given their topic and the guarded look in her eyes, he didn't dare.

“After I stopped feeling sorry for myself, I cleaned up the cuts and realized they weren't life threatening or anything. They stopped bleeding and didn't even hurt that much.”

More appalled than he could ever remember being, Simon stared at her.

“Marvin stayed gone all night, and that next morning a PI found me. He told me that my mother had been hurt in a bad accident. She was in a coma and not expected to live.” Dakota covered her mouth with a shaking hand. “I forgot about me and went home to see my mom.”

Simon swallowed down his rage. It was so much for a young woman to have to deal with. Though he somehow already knew the answer, he said, “She didn't recover, did she?”

“No.” A new sadness seemed to weigh Dakota down. “The last time I'd talked to Mom was in that big argument before I ran away with Marvin. We both said awful things, but hers were warranted.” She shook her head. “Mine weren't.”

Simon wanted to pull her into his lap. He wanted to comfort her somehow. But he knew Dakota wouldn't appreciate that. She'd see it as a weakness on her part.

“I stayed with her until she passed away, but she never regained consciousness so she never heard how sorry I was.”

“Did you ever see Marvin again?”

“Yeah, I saw him.” That fatalistic sadness evaporated. Determination took its place. “Even before Mom passed away, he came to the house and wanted to see me. He tried being apologetic, but I was so numb I didn't care about him or what he said or thought. Then he got threatening. For a month, he hounded me. He kept coming to the house and calling me.”

“He scared you.”

“Yeah, he did. After Mom's funeral, I talked to the police. I told them about Marvin's attack, but I hadn't yet filed for divorce and so much time had passed, they didn't think much would come of it. They said everyone would want to know why I was still married to him if he was so bad and why I hadn't come to the police right away if he'd really attacked me.”

“They didn't do their job.”

“They were honest with me, that's all. They said they'd try, but truthfully, I didn't have it in me to push the issue.”

“What about your father?”

She dismissed that with a shake of her head. “Dad died when I was eight. He was out of town on business, had a car wreck, and…” She shrugged. “I remember that my mom cried for weeks.”

“So after your divorce and your mother's death, you were all alone?”

Her shoulders lifted in a shrug.

She hadn't had anyone to help her deal with Marvin, to share her grief or her pain. “That must have been difficult at your age.”

“In some ways. I hadn't yet gotten my GED so finding work was almost impossible. But things really improved when I met Barber and he let me perform with him a few times.”

Grateful that she'd had someone, Simon tamped down on the surge of renewed jealousy. “Perform?”

“He'd run an ad for a singer to round out the band. I'd never really thought about singing professionally before, but I'd enjoyed it in school and I needed money so I figured, why not? The moment I met Barber, it seemed like he knew me and my situation. He went out of his way to make things easier for me.” She smiled. “I guess he's the closest thing I have to a big brother.”

If Barber had his way, Simon thought, he'd be more than that; he'd made that clear. “I'm glad he was there for you.”

“Singing got me through the rougher times. I love it. And when I can, I volunteer to help find missing teens. I've recovered a few.” Her smile flickered. “It's great, really great, to see a family reunited.”

And now she wanted to reunite him with his father? Somehow, Simon didn't think so. So what motivated her the most? He'd have to figure that one out another time.

Simon trailed his fingers through her hair, lifting it away from her face and examining her black eye. “You haven't had sex since your husband?”

The question took her by surprise. “God, no. I haven't had any interest, either.” Trying to act cavalier, she patted his cheek. “Till you, that is.”

Odd, Simon thought, that he'd be the one. Not that he was overly modest; he knew women found him attractive. It was a running joke in the SBC that women threw themselves at him. It was because of the female fans that he'd been dubbed “Sublime” instead of a more appropriate kick-ass name.

Before Dakota, he'd never really cared or paid that much attention to it. “I'm flattered.”

“But not surprised, so don't pretend that you are.”

“All right.” He cupped his fingers around her skull and brushed the delicate, bruised skin beneath her eye with his thumb. “Thank you for sharing.”

“Pretty pathetic, huh?”

“Sad. But no, not pathetic.”

“If you say so.” With an exaggerated yawn, she stretched and rose to stand in front of Simon. “Since you've so generously offered me a night here, I think I'll turn in.”

Simon didn't move. “I want you to sleep with me.”

Hands on her hips, she stared down at him. “I thought you said I was too banged up.”

“Sleep, Dakota.”

“Oh, yeah. You did clarify that once already, huh?”

Her cheeky grin didn't fool Simon. “Will you sleep with me?”

“I don't think it's a good idea.”

“You can trust me.”

“Yeah, I know. I do.” She crossed her arms. “But I'm not sure I trust myself. I've got a lot of aches and pains, and today's been an overload of crazy crap. You've already been so nice about everything….”

Simon stood. “That's because I'm a nice guy. Always remember that.” He took her hand and led her down the hall to his room.

“I need to shower.”

Her blurted statement showed her nervousness. “Okay. Get your stuff together and I'll get you some towels.”

Watching Dakota dig out panties and a long-sleeved T-shirt from her bag, Simon felt a little edgy himself. Despite the mix of sympathy, rage, and concern over her past, he was at half-mast. He wanted her, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

In the five years he'd spent with Bonnie, of course there'd been nights when they'd slept without having sex. But he'd never strayed. In five long years, Bonnie was the only woman he'd been with sexually.

Since leaving her, sex hadn't even been a consideration. He had too much to do to prepare for his fight.

But now…sharing a chaste bed with Dakota would be torturous. Sleeping without her, however, would be worse.

He went into the bathroom and found her standing there fully dressed. Her demeanor was one of defiance and dogged determination.

“Here you go.” He laid the towels on the toilet seat and went to the tub. “I'll adjust this for you, and then wait in the bedroom.”

“Appreciate it.”

When Simon had the water just right, he turned to her, slid his fingers over her jaw, and bent to kiss her with ultimate care.

She kissed him back, but didn't object when he pulled away.

“I'll be right outside if you need anything. Just give a yell.”

She nodded, and the second he left the room, he heard the door lock.

Twenty minutes later, the water still ran and Dakota hadn't yet come out. With the covers turned back and the television on, Simon had propped himself up in the bed. Normally he slept naked, but in consideration of Dakota, he'd chosen to wear flannel lounge pants.

He didn't watch the TV.

He didn't relax.

He was too busy listening for Dakota.

When the water finally shut off, Simon stared at the door. She'd be stepping out of the tub right now. Wet. Naked.

As he listened to the subtle sounds of her dressing and watched the shift of light from beneath the bathroom door, he breathed slow and deep. He was taut and anxious and rigidly in control of himself.

The bathroom door opened.

D
AKOTA
looked toward the bed where Simon reclined, at his leisure. He appeared totally relaxed, as if having a woman join him in bed for sleeping purposes was nothing out of the ordinary. And of course, after his longtime relationship with Bonnie, it wouldn't be.

For her, it was about as routine as a trip to the moon.

Dressed only in an oversized T-shirt and panties, her hair now loose, she shivered and gooseflesh rose on her skin. “I'm done.”

Simon stared at her legs. “Feel better?”

“Yeah.” On top of looking relaxed, Simon also looked wonderful, almost too wonderful to be true. The idea of curling up beside him thrilled her.

As long as she could keep her ridiculous fear under wraps.

Faking a yawn, she said, “I think I'm ready to sleep.”

Pulling his gaze off her body and onto her face, Simon said, “Come on.” He patted the empty side of the bed. “Climb in or you'll get chilled.”

Without giving herself more time to think on it, Dakota rushed over and crawled under the covers.

Simon turned his head to look at her. “Wanna watch a movie?”

Oh. She focused on the television. Maybe she didn't need to fake-sleep yet. “What's playing?”

“I can skip around the channels and see.”

As keyed up as she felt, a movie would be a great way to unwind a little. “As long as you don't pick a sappy love story, I'm in.”

They had just settled on an ancient horror flick when Simon's phone rang. Without a word, he handed the TV remote to Dakota and reached over to the bedside table to grab up the cordless.

Forgetting the movie, Dakota listened in as Simon apparently talked with someone important. After cordial greetings, he threw back the covers and sat up on the side of the bed. A few minutes later, he pushed to his feet to pace the room.

A soft, loose pair of cotton flannel pants rode low on his trim hips. He wore nothing else. He had a gorgeous body. She visually measured the breadth of his wide shoulders, the solid strength of his biceps and forearms. As he turned, she looked at his back and imagined rubbing her hands over him. His skin looked sleek and dark, and she already knew he'd be warm to the touch.

Dakota was so enthralled in studying Simon's body that she missed most of the conversation—until he looked at her.

After snaring her in his gaze, he said, “I can make it tomorrow, but I'd rather wait if—” He frowned, nodded and said, “All right. No, no, it's not a problem at all. I appreciate the opportunity. Of course. Yeah, thanks. You too.” He disconnected the call, but remained standing, watching her.