Chapter Forty-Seven
‘I don’t think you should come in.’
At the kerbside, my hand is on the handle of the car door ready to flee, because, let’s face it, we’ve been here before. Sofia’s machinations at the night of the charity event left us parked here, right on this stretch of road. Much like now, I’d refused to allow him to even walk me upstairs, full of anger and hurt, terrified of making bad choices again. It isn’t even as though I blame him for tonight. I believe he didn’t know she’d be there. I trust he just wanted me to see some weird cabaret, for its shock value—for shits and giggles—I suppose. And I was shocked, but not in the way he’d planned.
So I don’t blame him entirely, but I do blame him some. I blame him for making me want him and for having a past that includes her. And, of course, the rational side of my brain knows this is exactly what she planned. To drive a wedge between us, make what we have too painful to maintain. But still I sit here, already pushing him away.
‘Regardless,’ Ithinkhe growls. Sliding out of the car, long legs stride around its front.
‘I mean it,’ I call out as he clears the front, eyes full of determination. Then he’s there, yanking open the door and grabbing my hand.
‘AndImean it. I’m not letting you do this again. You can’t keep pushing me away.’ Hand in the crook of my arm, he almost marches me up the steps.
‘Me? You think this is my fault?’ With each tread, my temper rises. ‘Fuck you, this is your fault, yours and that sluts—let me go!’ Reaching the door, I try to yank my arms from his, without much success.
‘Put in the code, Kate.’ His fingers tighten on my arm, despite his quiet and reasonable tone. His tone is reasonable the first time, anyway. ‘Put in the fucking code.’
‘No. I’m not letting you in. I told you, I don’t want you—’
‘Liar.’ His hand brushes to my hip, pulling my body into his. I turn my head away, avoiding acknowledgment and hiding my reaction, how this touch stirs me to grab his face, kiss him brutally.
‘—don’t want you to come in,’ I grate out between clenched teeth.
That very moment the door buzzes open and a couple steps out, sliding us curious looks. Wishing them a bland ‘Good evening,’ Kai catches the door with his foot, pushing it wide. As immovable as granite, his eyes will me to make the first move.
‘You’re a bossy arsehole,’ I snarl, sweeping inside. The evening is too humid to stand arguing in; it certainly isn’t helping my temper. Plus, he’s as stubborn as the mule I’d like to walk by right now, just to watch it kick him in the nuts.
In the elevator, the atmosphere could quite easily be carved with a knife as we stand almost shoulder to shoulder, neither of us speaking a word. Silently fuming, I stare at the ceiling to avoid his reflection, which is no doubt burning holes in the mirrored door. But there’s a second reason for casting my eyes heavenward, and it’s not in the hopes of divine intervention. You see, if I don’t look, I might just be able to stop from throwing myself at him. I know it makes no sense at all and it’s a terrible idea—I’m also so angry I could scream—but,God, I do want him. From the set of his shoulders to the anger almost rolling off him in waves. I want to be lost in him, kiss those pillow-soft lips savagely. Make him sink to his knees as I mark possession with my teeth and gouge my name into his skin.
At my front door, I stick the key in the lock and turn to face him.
‘Thank you for bringing me home.’ I say this with a half-held breath and asperity dragged from the depths of my toes. ‘But this is where our evening ends.’
Without a word, he reaches past me and twists the key before I can clamp my hand over it.
‘Get inside.’
‘You’re joking, right? Because—’
‘Get inside before I fuck you right here, in the hallway.’
‘Fuckme?’ I sneer as he pushes past and in through the door this time. ‘Fuck me?’ I call, following him. ‘You’ll be lucky if I ever let you fuck me again!’
Whirling on his heels, his face is inches from my own. ‘Really?’ Sliding the jacket from his shoulders, he drops it to the floor and begins loosening the buttons of his shirt. ‘We’ll see about that, shall we?’
I narrow my eyes, hoping to convey an evil glare. ‘You’re delusional if you think—’
‘You’re mine and I’m yours,’ he says, untucking the loose shirt from his pants.
My eyes flit from his hard expression to the soft hair peeking above his belt and back again. ‘And it seems you need reminding.’
‘And it seems you need to fuck off.’
In a heartbeat, my back is pressed against the wall, hands held in his, their backs cool against the plaster. ‘Say that again and I’ll put you over my knee.’
You and who’s army, mate?Mouth twisted into a sneer of distaste, I enunciate clearly, ‘Fuck. Right. Off.’
He laughs, just once, kind of sadistically, and not like he finds me amusing at all. I can’t help but stare at his mouth, my eyes flickering now between his soft lips and hard gaze. I couldn’t stop the hitch in my throat even if I’d thought to, as he leans down, his mouth a whisper away from mine, just hovering there without touching.
