"I'm sorry."
Saskia doesn't know what I want her to say, so I offer her an out. "It's not your fault your mother was a cold woman."
"No."
Even confused about my questions, Saskia refuses to show a hint of emotion. Her silence now feels like a lie, just as her cold eyes do. She hides everything. Not just from me, but from everyone. Saskia infected me with a nearly unbearable need. Fair or not, I need her to show me something.
"You were meant to be here right now with me," I say.
"Really?"
"You nearly died before you were born. I'm sure you nearly died many times in your line of work. Yet here you are sitting across the table from me. It's fate."
Saskia studies me, seeming genuinely surprised by my words. "Do you believe in that?"
"Yes. Well, I believe in God and the good in people. I believe what you felt wasn't boredom, but the desire to do more. Now you are."
"I'm babysitting a grown man."
Frowning, I realize Saskia responds to uncomfortable situations by lashing out. Likely Mother Maven did the same thing. I can't imagine growing up with such a cold bitch, yet somehow I'm drawn to the cold bitch across the table.
Sighing dramatically, I pat her hand. "I feel bad that I got off in the car, and you're still waiting for your orgasm. I promise to fix that injustice when we get back."
Saskia stares at me, thrown off by my lack of anger. She might know how to push my buttons, but I'm figuring out how to push hers too.
"I can manage on my own."
I caress my bottom lip and smile. "I'm sure you can, but I don't imagine you'd enjoy it as much. I still remember what your pussy felt like wrapped around my cock when you came. You weren't faking that."
"It's true that I enjoy sex with attractive men. I enjoyed it before you, and I will again after this job."
"Is this where I cry and beg you to stay?"
"I don't know. Maybe. You're a very delicate man."
Grinning wider, I take every insult as a sign of how badly she wants me. Saskia holds my gaze, daring me to be angry. No, not daring. She's fucking begging me to lash out.
"You moan in your sleep," I murmur. "Like you're dreaming of me fucking you."
"You or some other man. Lots of possibilities."
"Your cold heart can't be thawed then?" I tease, tapping her foot.
"Doubtful. I will sacrifice anyone to save myself. Wouldn't even feel guilty afterward," she insists, staring hard at me.
"You know, I used to be an actor, so I could show you a few tips on how to lie better."
Saskia rolls her eyes. "This is just a job."
"Oh, I know. For me too. Part of the Ramsey contract came with sexual benefits. It's why I picked a chick as my bodyguard."
"You're not funny."
"You want to laugh, though."
"No, I don't."
Smiling, I caress the side of my glass. Saskia's gaze fixes on my fingers before turning to my face.
"I like you," I say. "A lot actually but I'm not taking your shit sitting down. If you want me to behave, you need to behave too."
Leaning forward, she narrows her defiantly dark eyes. "You have nothing to offer me in exchange for my good behavior."
"I have everything. You're the one coming to the table nearly empty-handed."
"How do you figure?"
I wave off her anger and smile at the waitress bringing our food. After we're alone again, I cut my steak while Saskia pouts. As much as I want to console her, I know she won't appreciate the gesture. Even so, I still wish I could wrap her in my arms and kiss away her unhappiness.
"What do you see in me?" she dares after I've eaten half of my meal.
Wiping my mouth, I adjust in my chair and hold her gaze. "I see beauty and strength. I see untapped warmth hiding inside you. I see a longing for more than your mother had. Mostly, I see confusion at who you are now that you've stopped being Little Maven."
"I'll always be Little Maven."
"To your enemies, but not to me. Deep inside, you don't want to see yourself that way either. Except without that label, who are you now?"
Saskia's cold exterior shatters for a second, and I glimpse a lost woman. She really doesn't know what to do with herself. I understand how she feels.
"Why do I have to be anyone?" she finally asks.
"After I escaped the cult freaks, I gave up everything in my old life. We moved back to Houston, and I stopped talking to the friends I made in California. I didn't want to remember any of that life. I hid away, and I was happy. When my therapist pushed me to face my fears, I fought him. I didn't want my old life. I have no urge to travel or act. I like my house. I like writing songs rather than singing them. The new me isn’t particularly special, and he won’t end up on the cover of a gossip magazine. He’s happy as hell being nobody, though."