Page 13 of Thiago (Family Ties #6)

Chapter Thirteen

T hiago pounded his fist on India’s door. He had never shown up at her apartment unannounced before and wasn’t certain she was home, much less if she would let him in. But they needed to talk.

He glared up at the camera above her door. “Let me in,” he said.

He kept his eyes locked on the lens and waited.

Moments later, the door swung open from the inside, and his eyebrows shot higher when he saw India’s appearance. She wore light sweats and a T-shirt, and on her face was some type of green goop.

“What is that on your face?” Thiago asked.

She glowered at him. “It’s called a mask. What are you doing here?” she asked irritably.

“I came to see you,” he replied.

“Obviously, but why?”

“We need to talk.”

“About?”

He rested a hand high on the door frame and leaned closer. “Are you going to allow me inside or not?”

“Now is not a good time. If you have something to say, say it and leave.”

Something inside him snapped. She was treating him as if she didn’t want him there, and he had never experienced that before. He shoved the door wider and marched in, brushing past her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” India demanded.

Thiago stopped at the edge of the living room. Now he understood why she didn’t want him there. A box of pizza sat on the table beside a decanter of red wine. Two glasses were also on the table, along with silverware and two plates stacked on top of each other.

Slowly, he turned to face India. “Do you have a date tonight too?” he bit out.

She folded her hands across her torso.

“Answer the question!” Thiago barked.

“This isn’t the office,” she retorted. “You can’t boss me around in my own home.”

“Do you have a man coming here tonight—yes or no?”

She sighed, and her shoulders dropped like someone at the end of her rope. “I have plans with someone, yes.”

“Plans? Oh, really? Who is he?”

“You don’t know him.”

“Of course I know I don’t know him, India, but who is he? And how long have you been fucking other people?”

“I’m not fu—why are you making such a big deal about this?”

He didn’t miss what she had been about to say. Perhaps she wasn’t screwing the man yet.

“Because you canceled on me the past two weeks, and now I know why. There is another man in your life, and I feel blindsided.”

“I’m sorry, but what do you want from me? Am I supposed to sit at home every night waiting by the phone for you to call?”

“I didn’t think you would be doing that, but I certainly did not think you would be doing this , either.” He stabbed a finger in the direction of the food. “How serious is your relationship? How long have you been seeing him?”

India closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and released it. “Woosah,” she said softly.

“Hoo-saw? What the hell does that mean?” Thiago demanded.

She opened her eyes. “He and I started seeing each other in the past few weeks, okay? He’s a doctor I met when I had to go to the emergency room a while back.”

“You were in the emergency room?” Thiago exclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why would I tell you? I went there on a Saturday.”

She answered in such a flippant manner, he was appalled to realize she believed he wouldn’t care she had been in the hospital because her visit didn’t occur on a Friday.

“Why did you have to go to the doctor?” Thiago asked.

“It was a false alarm,” India said dismissively. “I thought I was having a heart attack, but it was heartburn. The whole episode was embarrassing.”

Thiago relaxed. His entire body had locked up with tension when he thought something had been seriously wrong.

“Is the good doctor the only other man you’re seeing?” he asked in an overly pleasant voice.

India averted her eyes.

Thiago let loose a stream of Spanish curses. “How many others are there?” he demanded.

“You make dating sound awful, and it’s not. Kiara set me up with a friend of her husband’s, and we went out last night. Why do you care?”

“How could you ask such a question!” Thiago bellowed, blistering rage shooting through him. “Friday night is my goddamn night. Do you really think I want another man—” The chime of the doorbell cut him off.

Maybe it was for the best because he had been about to say, “Do you really think I want another man spending time with my woman? ” But in reality, she wasn’t his woman, was she?

They had made no formal declaration regarding the status of their relationship, so technically she was allowed to see other people.

Which he hated. He hated the idea of her with another man, especially since her apartment was the space he escaped to one night a week. Right now, it was being sullied by a fucking stranger whose fucking face he was tempted to bash in the minute he walked through the fucking door.

“He’s here, and you need to leave,” India said.

Thiago caught her by the upper arm. “Are you sleeping with him?” He hated asking the question but had to be sure. Wondering would eat him alive.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no.”

Relief flooded him.

“Not yet,” she added.

Her words were like a fist to the chest. He didn’t move a muscle. Was she trying to drive him insane ?

“Do not sleep with him tonight.”

Her eyes widened. “Why should I listen to you?—”

“Promise me you won’t sleep with him,” he said urgently.

The doorbell rang again, more insistently this time.

“You can’t tell me what to do in my personal life. Go to hell.” India yanked away her arm.

She marched over to the monitor, checked the screen, and then opened the door. The man in the hallway looked as surprised as Thiago had been when he saw her with the mask on her face.

“Hi,” he said slowly. “Am I early?”

He caught sight of Thiago in the background, and his eyebrows raised. He peered at Thiago with curiosity from behind a pair of glasses. His hair was slicked back a little too deliberately. Thiago instantly disliked him.

“You’re not early. I’m running late.” India stepped aside so he could enter.

Quietly seething, Thiago watched him walk into the living room. His living room, as far as he was concerned.

“Hello,” the man said.

India stepped up to the two of them. “Thiago Santana, this is Dr. Simon Stone. Simon, this is Thiago. My boss.”

Boss? The word landed like a slap.

Thiago’s jaw tightened. He extended a hand with minimal enthusiasm.

Simon shook his hand with a weak and forgettable grip. “Nice to meet you.”

Thiago’s smile was tight. “Yes.”

India softly cleared her throat. “I believe you were leaving…?”

A beat passed.

“Actually, we were talking before Dr. Simon arrived, and I didn’t get confirmation on the idea I presented. Maybe we could all sit down and have a nice little chat.” Thiago rounded to the other side of the sofa.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” India said, a hint of panic in her voice.

“No? You do not mind, do you, Doctor?”

“I… uh…” Glancing from one to the other, Simon appeared bewildered.

Thiago poured himself a glass of wine and swirled it before lowering his nose to the rim to breathe in its spicy notes.

“What vintage is this?” he asked India.

She glowered at him, clearly furious he was refusing to leave. “Amarone della Valpolicella, from Italy,” she bit out.

“Excellent choice,” he said, taking a slow sip.

Simon cleared his throat. “Should I?—”

“Simon, please have a seat. Thiago, may I speak to you for a moment, please? Over near the door?” Her voice was sweet, but her eyes shot daggers at him.

“Certainly.”

Thiago carefully placed the glass on the table. “Excuse us,” he said to Simon before following India out of the living room.

“You win. I won’t,” she said in a low voice.

“You won’t… what?” Thiago prompted.

She inhaled slowly and exhaled slowly. “I won’t sleep with him tonight.”

His gaze skated down the length of her body.

He believed her. She looked comfortable, not dressed in the sexy attire she usually wore when he came over.

Of course, she could be wearing a G-string and one of those demi-cup bras under her sweats.

For a moment, he imagined peeling off her clothes to uncover such a delectable surprise underneath.

“Good. I’ll see you next Friday night.” He wasn’t asking, he was telling her.

He couldn’t see her face below the mask, but her eyes were blank and emotionless. “Okay,” she replied in a wooden voice.

Okay? Okay?

He held his tongue. Someone somewhere should nominate him for sainthood. Perhaps he would nominate himself.

Feeling Simon’s gaze, Thiago glanced over his shoulder to get another look at his enemy before he said to India in a lowered voice, “Remember your promise. I am holding you to it.”

Then he opened the door and walked out.