Page 31 of Resist

“I’ve missed you.” Her words are soft, timid, after my subtle rebuke.

“Don’t you have some function to be at? Some cause that needs to be championed while drinking one-hundred-dollar glasses of champagne and pretending to care?” My smile is tight, my eyes lasers of distrust.

“I deserve that,” she murmurs, willing to be compliant with my insults so long as she gets to see me.

“Why are you here?” I glance over to the doorman across the lobby greeting someone who just walked in. My hand is on her arm, not so gently guiding her to a small alcove for privacy.

“Ryker.” My name is a plea—for what, I can only guess. Her bottom lip quivers, and she bites it to fight the emotion.

“I asked you not to come here anymore. We can’t be seen together.”

“Then let’s go upstairs,” she says softly.

“No. This is over. It was over the minute I found out you were married.” More so when I realized the man who’d just hired me for representation in his divorce was the husband she was married to.

“I’ve told you . . . I didn’t know—I didn’t mean for this to happen.” She twists her fingers together and stares at them for a beat before lifting those eyes back up to mine. Eyes that for the first time in a long time belonged to a woman who I thought I could trust. A woman who might have actually owned a little piece of my cold heart.

“It doesn’t matter how it happened, Rox. It just—”

She emits an audible sob at the sound of her nickname and covers her mouth to bite it back. An unintentional gaffe on my part. Shit.

I run a hand through my hair and walk a few feet away from her to gain my composure. I liked her. Really fucking liked her . . . but just as with all women, I should’ve known better than to trust her.

“You lied to me.” I turn back around to face her, my words causing her to force a swallow. “We met. We had fun. We had incredible sex. Not once did you tell me you were married. Not once did you tell me that your husband was some Nobel laureate who was off on sabbatical. Not once did I know the man who’d hired me to divorce his adulterous wife wanted representation against the same woman I was sleeping with.” Every word I utter drips with venom.

“I love you.”

“No you don’t. You love the idea of me, Roxanne. The thrill of the cheat. The fuck you you feel because you’re sticking it to your husband, who loves his work more than he loved you.”

Tears well and one escapes and slides slowly down her cheek. “I love you, Ryker. Just give me a chance. Give us a chance.” She grips her hands onto my biceps, and the only reaction I give her is the tic of the muscle in my jaw. “I won’t fight the settlement terms of the divorce if you do. I’ll just take whatever he gives me, and then once the papers are signed, we can be together.” Hysteria bubbles in her voice, and the tears she fought are now streaming down each cheek. “No one has to know. We can be happy. I know we can. I just want you, Ryker. I love you.”

I give her the moment to say what she wants to say. The same moment I’ve given her too many times to count so far. My generosity only has so many lives, though.

“I can’t do this, Roxanne. We can’t do this. I’m going to ask you again, as nicely as possible, if you would please leave.”

“Just like that, you’re going to throw us all away?” She shrieks as her hands go from gripping my arms to hitting against my chest.

“Stop. You’re making a scene.” It takes me a second and a few slaps to my chest before I can get my hands around her wrists to stop her. The doorman glances my way, eyes asking if I need help, and I just shake my head no, firing off a warning glare. He’s the one who let her in here in the first place. Besides, a scene is the last thing I need right now. I look back to her, some hair falling out of her twist now, makeup streaked with mascara, and desperation in her eyes.

“Ryk.”

I push her away from me to gain some distance. “Stop begging, Roxanne. Have some dignity.” My voice holds zero sympathy or compassion.

And this time she finally hears it.

The expression on her face slowly changes. Muscle by muscle. Emotion by emotion. Her eyes glint with steel, and her lips curl up in something akin to the anger I feel toward her. For being here. For putting me through this. For reaffirming why I won’t make this oversight again.

“You’re making a huge mistake,” she grits out between her teeth, mirroring my thoughts.

“I already did. That’s why we’re here.” My compassion has given way to exasperation.

She takes the words in stride, her anger now fueling her emotions. “You’re going to regret this. I’m going to fight David for every penny he has. I’m going to take every one of his skeletons out of the closet and take him for all he’s worth.”

“To spite me?” I ask with a chuckle, glad to help add kerosene to her temper so she hates me and leaves me alone. “Whatever happens, happens. You taking David to the cleaners doesn’t affect my paycheck.”

“I’m going to ruin you, Ryker. Your reputation. You. I’ll let everyone know you sleep with clients’ wives. You’ll look like the slimy bastard you are so that no one will ever use you again because they’ll think you’re incompetent.”

“Then I guess they’ll question your judgment in turn.” I don’t quite enjoy watching her flail around like a fish out of water, but I’ve been patient long enough.