Deal

"Juri. Juri, wake up, please. Wake up."

The voice came to her as if through a fog and she batted her hand at the air, warding off her would-be assailant. Before the vocal intrusion, she had been dreaming and although the details of said dream were already almost completely gone she knew it had been nice.

Nice in a sexy way, a way that would have made her blush if she wasn't fighting so hard to stay asleep where she belonged. The vision of herself sleeping forever and ever, amen, hadn't been a joke.

She wasn't sure how long she had been curled up on top of her mattress haven, but she knew it wasn't even approaching forever. She rolled over, sighing with pleasure at the way her back popped and settled back into place.

Prisoner or not, it was the best mattress of her life. Even the princess with her stupid pea would have passed a good night without waking up once. She was right on her way to dreamland when the voice spoke up again, this time resting a cold hand on her as well for good measure.

"Juri, I know you can hear me."

"Yes, all right, fine. I can hear you. What do you want? Are you planning on dragging me down the stairs? Maybe give me a few more bruises to go along with the set I've already got?" Juri said hotly, her voice still slightly slurred with sleep.

The bruise jab was a gamble. She hadn't bothered looking at the state of her skin before drifting off to sleep and had no way of knowing whether or not there was anything there. When she looked at Marino's face, she knew there was something to see.

She glanced down at her upper arm and saw exactly what she had expected; Marino's fingerprints so clearly displayed he might have left them there with ink.

Surely they would have done just fine in a court case if the people in charge of evidence were in a pinch. She looked up and saw Marino watching her, registering how deep her new bruises actually went.

Then he looked down again, his eyes clouded and his face, dare she say it? Stricken.

"I did that to you," he said in a low, thick voice. She couldn't tell if it was a question or a statement and it didn't matter. The answer was the same either way.

"Yes, you did. During your lovely display of power earlier," she said, concentrating on keeping her voice even.

A man had never laid his hands on her in such an aggressive way before and talking about it was far more difficult than she would have anticipated. It was a subject, once left, she hoped never to revisit again.

"I had no idea," he said solemnly, steeping his hands in front of his face.

She would have given everything she had, admittedly not much at the moment, to know for sure if the remorse she was reading was genuine. Because he did look remorseful, stricken even.

He looked like a man who was temporarily unaware of his own strength and was now suffering from his own personal mental anguish because of it. But there was the conversation with Eileen to consider, something that felt like it had occurred a million years ago.

Eileen had been adamant about how misunderstood Marino was and although it was an idea Juri had handily discarded she had no way of knowing that those softly spoken words hadn't seeped into her subconscious.

For all she knew they might be floating around inside of her head somewhere, playing tricks on her and wreaking general havoc. There was nothing left she trusted; nothing left she could trust, and knowing that left her with no choice. She would have to trust the funny feeling in her gut that told her he wasn't putting on a show.

"Look at me, Marino," she ordered, then thought better of it and cleared her throat, "look at me please."

"I'm not sure…I'm not sure what you want from me," he said with uncertainty.

There was not a trace of the man who had dragged her from that table full of food, nor the man who had so arrogantly purchased her from her very first slave auction. Before her was only a broken looking man and she believed he was sorry.

"I don't want anything," she said gently, relieved to have her decision finally made, "except for you to tell me you won't do that again."

"I won't," he answered so softly that she wasn't entirely sure he had spoken at all.

"Or if you don't think that's something you can say and mean it, don't. But then you need to promise me you'll stop doing the sweet things. You have to be one thing or another. I can't stand it having you be both. It's like living with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde."

"A good book," he said with the ghost of a smile, "I'm surprised you've read it."

"Right, because all of us toppers are idiots, is that it?" She countered.

There was no malice in her reply though, not anymore. All of the sudden she was past that stage. There was still the part of her that didn't believe she would be able to forgive Marino for what he was, for what he had done, but she was also done trying to fight him.

In that one almost human exchange, the kind that happened between people meeting and flirting in bars all of the time, her defenses were shattered. She might continue the tough girl act from time to time, but she was tired of denying the baser part of herself that was so quickly growing addicted to the danger and excitement of it all.

Any minuscule amount of resistance she still had was eradicated when Marino took both of her hands into one of his own.

"No, Juri, I think you're far from that. One of the brightest beings I've met in a long time, I suspect. Perhaps ever."

"Now you're just trying to flatter me. Which, by the way, will get you everywhere."

"But will it get you out of bed?" He countered, one eyebrow rising along with the corner of his mouth lifting in a devilish grin.

She looked down, startled, her body going hot all over. She had been in a virtual stupor when she'd settled into her nap and upon waking had no recollection of what she had on. Now she found that it was, of all things, a Dallas Mavericks shirt.

A shirt and nothing else and with her legs crossed, too. She was completely on display and Marino hadn't given the smallest hint of it until now. She scrambled, reached for the sheet, and covered herself belatedly.

"God, excuse me," she apologized feebly, "I didn't realize."

"There is absolutely no need for apologies. I don't remember complaining," he countered, not missing a single beat.

"In answer to your question, yes. I'm fine with getting out of bed, so long as you tell me what I'm getting out for. It's not that room again, is it? Mrs. Baker -"

"Careful. Don't let her hear you call her that. She's not fond of that name being used these days."

"Right, Eileen, then. She was lovely, truly she was, but I don't want to go back to that room. I didn't like it there."

"No. No, not back there. I won't take you back there again. I wish I never had," he said, some of his previous gloom returning to his face.

Juri's heart lurched, and she let the sheet fall. Her face flushed again, but she didn't make a move to cover herself; she wanted him to see. The memory of his body hovering over hers overcame her, and she wanted him to see and then to want her all over again.

"I shouldn't have brought it up. I won't do it again. I'll get out of bed. I really would love to know why you want me to, though. Is it something I shouldn't ask?" She asked, somewhat tremulously.

"It's perfectly alright for you to ask. I'm happy to tell you. We're going to a party if you can believe that."

"A party?" She asked dumbly.

"A party; one that requires more than that enticing ensemble you've got on."