Rogue (Real #4)(66)

There’s a knock on the door and I groan in protest when Riley sets me aside.

“Pete could need me,” he explains, and I watch quietly as he heads to the door, his image blurry through my tears.

I unstrap one of my shoes and wipe my eyes. One night with Riley and in the morning it won’t all look so miserable. I will realize Greyson King isn’t the only man in the world. My heart will still be broken but I’ll glue it back together any way I have to, and I will be happy again.

I will be happy again.

Sniffing, I am quickly starting to unbutton my top when I hear a low, familiar voice speak.

“Where is she?”

I have never, ever heard anyone speak so quietly and at the same time sound so pissed.

My skin pricks and my gaze snaps up to the door.

Greyson’s tall, lean, black-clad form covers the threshold, and I hate how my systems go haywire at the sight of him.

I’m partly undressed in the middle of the room. Drunk. My hair a mess. My face a mess. Anger and hurt coil in my stomach as he comes forward with a blazing, territorial gaze.

I grab the shoe I’d been removing and throw it at him. “Get away from me!” I yell.

He ducks, and the shoe hits the wall and falls with a stupid thud to the carpet. Then, slowly, he straightens and comes the rest of the way over, grabs me by the arms, and hauls me up against him. Every inch of my body feels his. He looks at me with a fury I’ve never seen before as he starts to button me up, all the time those eyes looking at me until my stomach feels heavy as a rock. He jerks off his suit jacket and drapes it over my shoulders, forcing my arms inside and buttoning that too. Then he reaches for my strappy ankle boot lying across the carpet. Before I can stop him from putting on my shoe, he slips it on, efficiently straps it, and then he speaks to me in a low, cold voice. “Put your arms around me.”

“Where’s your f*cking redhead?” I demand.

“I said put your arms around me.”

I don’t obey.

He doesn’t care.

He lifts me in his arms, his coat huge on my frame, and I have no choice but to hold on to his nape. Suddenly, I smell him. I smell him on the coat he put on me, and in the scent of his hair, and on his skin. Forest and leather and mint. The pain in my heart becomes a fierce and fiery gnawing as the stinging in my eyes returns.

As we pass Riley at the door, he flatly says, “Stay away from her.”

“If you f*cking hurt her—” Riley starts, but Greyson cuts him off.

“No, if you touch her again, I’ll kill you.”

Greyson’s words—if you touch her again, I’ll kill you—send a chill through me.

Riley takes a step forward but I lift my hand to stop him and shake my head in a frantic no. I can’t bear to risk Riley and I’ve never—ever—seen Greyson like this. His whole body crackles with unleashed energy as he carries me to the service elevators, holding me in one arm as he murmurs into his phone, “Back service entrance,” and then he tucks the phone into his slacks and presses me even tighter to his chest.

Tighter than ever.

We’re alone in the elevator, and though he’s quiet, he’s wearing an expression I’ve never seen before.

I think I’m going to vomit.

We exit into the underground parking lot, the cool air biting into my legs and cheeks, and I close my eyes and duck against the cold, feeling utterly miserable when the heat of his body rises up to warm me. I wonder if she licked his skin. Slid her fingers into his hair. If he calls her princess too.

I briefly hear a car motor start nearby, and when I look up, Greyson is looking at me. When our eyes lock, my nerves sizzle down to my toes. My body is screaming possessively for me to claim this man from any other woman. But no. Greyson might drive my body crazy, but I just realize he can never, ever be the man for me.

He’s a cheater.

A liar.

And he’s very, very mad right now.

A car pulls over in front of us and he yanks open the back door and as he guides me into the backseat, all this confusion rears up in me, and all the alcohol in my system isn’t helping.

He climbs in behind me, settles to my right, and slams the door, then a gloved hand cups my face and forces me to turn, where he looks at me with frustration carved on his hard jaw. “Sometimes I won’t be able to tell you everything about my work. I do it to protect you.”

“Fuck you! I saw you holding her hand. I saw you—”

“You saw me working, Melanie. That’s all you saw.”

“I saw you giving her a present, motherf*cker! How on earth would a security job involve that, huh?” I push him away and he curses under his breath. “Do you feel like a big man, having lots of women panting after you? All of them deluded? Thinking they’re special to you?”

“Jesus, listen to you!”

“That’s right, and hear me well, Greyson, this is the last time I’m played! Do you hear me?” I rap on the limo ceiling, hoping Derek hears, but he doesn’t stop the car.

Greyson laughs in dark disbelief, then he rakes his hands through his hair and stares outside, his hands in fists, and I stare unseeingly out at the passing storefronts, stubbornly clinging to my anger and insecurities.

“I’m on to you, Greyson. What’s in your secret steel room? Porn? Is that where you Skype with . . . who the f*ck is she?”