"Just go!" She closed her eyes briefly and bit her lip as she tried to control the surge of shame and panic coursing through her body. "Please. You may pick up Zoe tomorrow. Text me when you're on your way. And yes, you can have her for the entire weekend. Just go."
He got to the door, before turning to stare at her. His heart took a slow dive at the look of her. Thick dark brown hair tumbled in tousled waves over her shoulders. Her lips were swollen, eyes glazed with passion.
Desire rose inside him and it took an enormous amount of control not to simply lock the door and drag her over to the sofa.
"This is not over." He promised her grimly. "Not by a long shot."
She waited until he had left before stumbling to her feet and rushing towards the small powder room she had installed a year ago. Standing in front of the mirror, she stared in horrified fascination at her face. Her hair was tangled and her lips looked as if they had been stung by bees.
She had no idea how to fix her appearance. And she was needed in the conference room for a meeting. Leaning on the counter, she tilted her head back and closed her eyes, willing the tremors racking her body to stop.
For a moment, Abigail just breathed, forcing each inhale and exhale to steady the chaos in her chest. She splashed cold water on her face, hoping to erase the evidence of what had just happened. The reflection offered no comfort; the flush on her cheeks and the trembling in her hands betrayed her inner turmoil.
She tugged her sweater straight, finger-combing her hair in a futile attempt at composure. There was no room for weakness now. She had to pull herself together and face the team.
Her hands shook as she found the strength to move, every step heavy with the weight of her emotions. The room felt impossibly silent, amplifying the echo of her heartbeat in her ears. She gripped the edge of the sink, grounding herself in the cold porcelain, and forced herself to remember why she needed to keep going.
She reminded herself why she couldn't let him unravel everything she'd worked so hard to build. There was too much at stake, and she refused to let longing override her resolve.
*****
He drove around aimlessly, the afternoon traffic whizzing by and not making an impression on him. He felt numb and then alive, veering from one emotion to the next. His body was hot, his loins aching.
He had tersely told Lilieth to take messages and cancel his afternoon appointment. He needed to be alone, to sort things through.
Pulling into a side road, he stopped beneath the overhanging branches of an old oak tree and switched the engine off.
And just sat there staring at nothing. Five years ago, he had ran. Just simply turned tail and run. It had been too much then and back there, the last thing he wanted was to become tangled up emotionally.
But here he was again. Back where he started, only it was much worse. He shouldn't have touched her, he mused, swearing viciously. He should have left her alone.
Because touching her had cemented what he had feared all along. She was under his skin, in his blood, in his heart. He wasin love with her. It would explain why over the years, he had never been able to forget that one night.
That she was the only woman who had managed to get through the layers he had placed over his heart. He had been so arrogant in the past, flitting from one woman to the next. His hands clenched on the steering wheel. He was in love with her and had no idea what to do about it.
She despised him. Yes, she might be attracted to him, the passion between them had sizzled almost burning them to a crisp. So, that was a given. But she was going to fight him every step of the way.
Suddenly a light came into his eyes. Those close to him would recognize it for what it was. Kincaid Tyrell had found a fortified wall, unbreachable, an enormous challenge, and one that he was determined to tunnel through, whatever it takes.
*****
"I would like us to spend Thanksgiving together." Jillian stretched languidly, her smooth white body as fluid as water. He had left marks on her. He was always doing that. His stubble had left streaks on the side of her neck, and he was sure her nipples were sore.
He was ravenous around her, like he wanted to swallow her whole. His usual control was in shreds. That did not sit well with him.
She had called while on her way from the hospital and asked to meet. He had in turn dumped the case he had been working through on his associate and hightailed it out of the office. They had barely got through the door when he was on her like a rabid wolf. Her sweater was torn and so was her bra.
This was getting ridiculous and had to stop. They were going to end up killing each other.
Sliding off the rumpled, sex stained bed, he reached for a robe. Shrugging it on, he belted it around his trim waist, wincing as the terry cloth rubbed against the welts. She had left marks as well.
"I think we should take a step back." He strode over to the cabinet and selected a half bottle of scotch. And noticed his hands were shaking. His sister had called. Her voice shaky, her composure shattered as she informed him that she had agreed to send Zoe over to Tyrell for the long weekend.
He had soothed and comforted, even though his mind had been elsewhere.
He turned to see the stricken look on Jillian's face and wished she would cover herself up.
The anger replaced the stricken look. "You're breaking up with me?"
