Fran Lee - Out of Her Dreams

David jerked his eyes to her face in confusion. “What the hell did I do now?”

She shook her head and exhaled loudly. “Can you draw this asshole a picture, Vic? He is blind and stupid, all rolled up into one!”

David glanced in irritation at Victor and was about to ask what the hell his wife was talking about but Vic cut off his question with a raised hand.

“Y’s right, Chance. We’ve been wanting to talk to you but the schedule’s been so damn hectic and you have been in such a fucking black mood, nobody dared try. It’s been almost three months since she took off and you’ve been wandering around like a grizzly bear with an ingrown toenail. What the hell is wrong with you? You never took no for an answer from anyone else. Why start now? Find her. Break down her business manager’s fucking door and strangle her ’til she tells you what you need to know!” He glared at David.

“She left because she didn’t want to be around me, dammit. She hates my fucking guts!” He took a swallow of his drink.

Vic shook his head and groaned. “Anybody with any brains in their damn thick skull could have told you that Sam Hastings was so gone over you, she could barely think straight when you were turning on that goddamn charm.”

David glared at him malevolently. “What the hell do you know about it? If she was ‘gone’ over me, I would have known it, wouldn’t I?”

Yvonne threw up her hands and gave a strangled little sound of disgust. “Does a goddamn brick have to hit you in that thick skull of yours before you recognize when a woman is in love? Or is it that you just couldn’t love her back? Was that it? So you didn’t bother to follow her and make things right for her?” She almost snarled at him. “Did you even think to offer her marriage?”

David’s eyes widened at her words. He’d offered her himself! Wasn’t that the same fucking thing? Did their Memorandum of Understanding not make her realize he needed her? Wanted her? Yvonne’s angry voice intruded in his thoughts.

“She was willing to jump into a ring and physically attack a man four times her size when she thought you were in danger, you fucking jerk. Didn’t that ring any bells in your fucking head? And whenever you started to make a total jackass of yourself, she always stepped in and turned you back into a human being again.”

She shook her head and stared at him like he was a bug on her carpet. “When I think of all the things that girl did to make you know she adored you, I get sick to my stomach. I have no idea why she ever agreed to live with you, Chance, but you tossed away the most precious thing that ever happened to you and you have nobody to blame but yourself, so pull your head out of your fucking ass and start using it!”

David stared up into her angry face and he was about to deliver a blistering set down, when Sam’s soft voice whispered in the back of his thoughts. I’d much rather manipulate you than let that black temper of yours spoil a good working relationship .

He drew a deep breath and swallowed his anger. Love him? Did Sam really love him? He rose from the chair and stared at his friend’s angry face. “Yvonne, has anyone ever told you you’re beautiful?” And he caught the back of her head and kissed her quickly, startling her.

“I’d start by walking into her business manager’s office and busting heads until they cough her up. It shouldn’t be that much trouble.” Her eyes were a brilliant ice blue. “And if she doesn’t want to come back, get on your goddamn hands and knees and promise her the earth if you have to.”

He placed his empty glass on the coaster and left without another word. The truth in what they had told him hit him in the gut like a fist. He had known she wanted him. That she loved what he did for her in bed. But he had not noticed the other things she seemed to love about him. The way she humored him when he was pissed off and the way she always made him forget to be angry when tensions rose. The way she stood up for him against the press when they made comments she didn’t like. The way she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t aware. The light that came into her green eyes when she saw him after even a short absence. The way she got pissed off at him when he came home battered and the way she gently cared for his cuts and bruises.

She didn’t hate him. So there was hope.

He flagged down a passing taxi and climbed inside, giving his address. The driver watched him for a while until he looked up and met the brown eyes in the rear view mirror. The man waited for him to acknowledge him with a nod and then he said in heavily accented English, “I have not seen your little woman for a long time on the television. She is not ill, I hope. My wife and me, we watch because she is so brave and so pretty. My daughter wants to be just like her someday.”

David drew a deep breath. “I don’t know where she is but I intend to remedy that damn soon.”

“That is the spirit, Mr. Braza. You cannot let her run away from you again. If she was mine, I would find her if I had to go to the ends of the earth.” Then he cleared his throat and said more softly, “But do not tell my wife I said that. She will be very jealous.”

David grinned at him in the mirror. “I promise I won’t breathe a word.”

He sank back into the seat and exhaled heavily. He wondered if he had completely botched the deal by not trying harder to find her. He had told her that he would give her some room, some space. But he had also told her that he would never let her go.

And he had done exactly that.

He had waited for her to come back to him, thinking that after she had her freedom for a while, she would find that she needed him as desperately as he needed her. Would miss him. But he hadn’t counted on that damn pride of hers.

She hadn’t come back. And when he had tried to talk to her, she had refused his calls. The one time Phyllis had managed to get her on the phone, she had been cool and polite but her voice had held none of the delightful depth that it held when she had been with him those wonderful months. It had felt as if he was talking to a stranger. A cold, distant, annoyed stranger.

He swallowed the lump in his throat as remembered once again that he had often wondered if she had just wanted him for the sex. She had never lied to him about the way he affected her. She had also never told him that she wanted more from him than sex alone. She had never said she cared about him. Even after he had begun to question if sex was enough and why he wanted her to admit she wanted more, she had never admitted anything beyond their amazingly sensual bond. But then, he’d never told her how he felt either.

During the past three months, he had been the old, nasty, vicious Chance Braza, terrorizing his fellow wrestlers and behaving in real life like the bastard he’d always pretended to be in the ring. He had reverted to his angry, unrelenting persona with a vengeance, drawing even more notoriety as he had worked his way through a dozen challengers, without allowing anyone a fighting chance to take his championship belt from him. Not after he had told her he’d won it for her. Not after he had shown the world he wanted her and had laid his soul at her damn feet. He had completely ignored his contract and the number of fights he was supposed to let others win to bolster their images. Nobody wanted to get into that ring with him now. Not even the Wolfman.

But what had he given her, besides the constant sexual satisfaction she seemed to crave from him? He thought of the many times they had lain in each other’s arms after making love and although he had wanted to tell her that she was more than just someone to enjoy in his bed, he had not uttered the words. There had been times when he had felt that she expected something more from him. But he had let those times pass. What had he expected from her? He clenched his teeth and swore silently at himself. Fucking idiot!