He laughed, the sound low and sexy, affecting her in ways she tried to ignore. The fiend.
She waited for him to stop laughing and then said by way of dismissal, “I’ll see you at six.”
“I shall look forward to it.”
She hung up the phone feeling just slightly outmaneuvered, but she didn’t really mind. One of the problems she’d had dating was that after growing up around her father and having to push so hard against him for any sort of independence, most other men seemed a little too easily led in comparison. At first, she’d thought that was what she wanted.
She didn’t want to be used again and she didn’t want to be dominated, so she very selectively dated men that were from her world and weren’t looking for her father’s millions to support them, but who were also patently non-aggressive. Men who spouted feminist ideals better than she did and who were sensitive. Men who did not have Sandor’s vibrancy or personal power.
She’d grown weary of the dating scene quickly and it wasn’t until Sandor bulldozed into her life that she realized what was missing. She wanted a man of integrity, but not one she could lead around by a ring through his nose. She wouldn’t tolerate being dominated, and if he didn’t already know that, he would learn, but she was glad he was so strong.
She’d learned that a man could be aggressive and powerful and sensitive to her feelings. At least some of them. Which was more than she’d ever had, but not the same as having his love. However, Sandor was always careful to look after her. His recognition of her dislike of driving was not an isolated incident. He watched her. He paid attention.
And that was very different from her father. Which considering how many similarities she saw between the two of them was a very good thing.
Added to that, she didn’t live in fear of denting his fragile male ego because he wasn’toverly sensitive. The fact her father approved was a double-edged sword. His lack of emotional connection to her had resulted in a sense of rebellion toward all that he stood for. But there was a tiny part of her that still wanted his approval. That still hoped deep inside that if she could please him enough, he would love her like a daddy was supposed to love his little girl.
Marrying Sandor would definitely please her father, but his similarity to the man who had lacerated Ellie’s heart time and again with twenty-four years of almost complete indifference gave her pause. How could it do anything else?
She couldn’t live the rest of her life in that same emotional wasteland with a husband. Even ifshe lovedhim.
Her disturbing thoughts were interrupted by a phone call and she didn’t have another second to call her own for the rest of the day. She left work late and had to rush through getting ready for dinner at the Christofides home.
Sandor asked about her day when he picked her up and spent the entire drive to his home listening. It was a heady experience, being the central focus of his attention. With pleasure, she ticked a mental mark on his scorecard…on the side that said, “Not a carbon copy of George Wentworth.”
He helped her from the car and she stayed him with a hand, reaching up to kiss him on the corner of his mouth. “Thank you.”
His brows drew together. “For what?”
“For listening. I can’t imagine that my attempts to help my clients better their lives is all that fascinating, but you never tell me to shut up.”
He leaned down and kissed her full on the lips. “You are wrong.”
She was clinging to his biceps for support after the short but devastating kiss. “About what?”
“Everything about you interests me, but your desire to help others is both admirable and yes, fascinating to me.”
“You’re a special man, Sandor.” But was it true? If everything about her interested him, why was he so ignorant about some basic elements to her nature? Most important being her need for an emotional connection with him.
“Remember that.”
“It’s not something I could forget.”
He just smiled and led her into the house.
CHAPTER FIVE
HERACHRISTOFIDES WASevery bit as pleased to see Ellie as Sandor had said she would be and made her welcome with warm effusiveness.
“It is so good you come. Sandor, he is like a caged lion lately, but when you are here…he is better.” She squeezed Ellie’s hand before taking a seat on the large white sofa and indicating Ellie should join her.
“Mama, I do not mind being likened to a lion, but I am far from caged.”
“There are many kinds of cages, my son,” Hera said wisely. “Though I agree, you are very like a lion in the cage or out of it…because you see the world as your prey.” She sighed, her eyes so like Sandor’s filled with concern. “It is always the business with you. You want to win, win, win.”