The Rake (Boston Belles #4)(74)

“Take me somewhere private so I can bite your head off properly,” she commanded.

I pressed my hand against the small of her back and ushered her to a mezzanine library in the corner of the room. It was a small space, painted wall-to-wall with an elaborate black sky dotted with stars that made you feel like you were in outer space.

A cluster of businessmen lounged there, talking idly as they sipped their drinks.

“Out!” I barked.

They scurried away like the hares had when my father had unleashed his hound dogs. People in this city knew I made a good friend and a terrible enemy.

I pinned Sweven to one of the walls, my eyes dropping to her luscious lips.

She had nowhere to move. Nowhere to go.

“Here,” I hissed seductively to her lips. “Bite my head off. I’ll even unbuckle to make life easy for you.”

She groaned, pushing me away. “You’re about to marry someone else, so get the hell away from me before I grab your balls and make sure the child I’m carrying is the only one you’ll have.”

I chuckled sardonically, palming her cheek. She slapped my hand away.

“You’re frightened, aren’t you? That I’d put a ring on her finger.” I was flattered, though I still couldn’t understand why she was so darn stubborn and cold.

“Actually, I couldn’t care less. I’m just letting you know I’m no one’s side piece.” She made a move to duck under my arm, but I moved quickly, blocking her way to the door.

“Who fucked you up like this?” I seethed, demanding to know.

I held her arms, not wanting to let go but unsure how to get to her either.

“I’m trying my fucking hardest, but always reach the same dead end. You want the cock, the banter, the conversation, but not the feelings. When I give the feelings to someone else, you lose it. So let me ask you again—Who. Did. This. To. You?” I shook with rage. I was going to kill the wanker. End him. “Who made you so utterly incapable of having a healthy relationship with a man?”

“None of your business!” She spat in my face. I didn’t even bother wiping the saliva off. She tried escaping again. I blocked her—again.

“Not so fast. Tell me what I need to do to get through to you.”

I was completely out of my depth.

We were both fighting for control over a situation neither of us had power in.

She tilted her chin up, a sly grin gracing her Aphrodite features.

“There’s nothing you can do or say to make me see you as more than what you are. A spoiled little rich boy who ran away from home, but never really escaped the golden cage. You finally found the one thing you cannot have—me—and if it kills you… Well, then die.”

I slammed my palms against the wall, boxing her between them.

I was so frustrated I was on the verge of destroying the room. Ripping it apart.

And where the fuck did my champagne glass go, anyway?

“You’re impossible!” I roared.

“You’re an asshole.” She yawned right into my face.

“I regret the day I offered you this arrangement. At least, before this, I had a bit of respect and sympathy toward you.”

“I don’t need either from you.” Emmabelle pushed me away, her tone businesslike. “You think you’re so much better than your family, don’t you? Just because you work for a living doesn’t make you a martyr. Don’t wait up for me at home. I’ll be sleeping at Pers’ tonight.”

“Why on bloody earth would you do that?”

“So you can have a little room to finally nail your precious new girlfriend!” she boomed. Emmabelle gave me the finger as she dashed outside, the hem of her dress flipping about her delicate ankles.

I chased her. Of course I chased her. At this point, I was unable of making one rational decision when it came to this woman.

But I was no longer enamored by her ability to throw me off balance. Now, all I felt was disgust and disappointment toward both of us.

I was too old for this shite.

Emmabelle stopped momentarily. Turned around. Opened her mouth again.

“You’ve been enjoying your precious Louisa like you don’t share a roof with the future mother of your child. Well, if you’re happy to screw around, I’m going to find myself some entertainment too, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Come close to me again tonight, and I’ll break your nose.”

With another whoosh of her skirts, she was off.

I stopped.

For the first, bloody time, I came to the conclusion that chasing Emmabelle Penrose may not be the right, or constructive, or fun thing for me to do.

It was just me and the vast, dark room. I regulated my breaths and looked around.

Life was a lonely business, even if you were never completely alone.

This was why people fell into love.

Love, it seemed, was a brilliant distraction from the fact that everything was temporary and nothing quite mattered like we thought it did.

It was only after I stood there for an entire minute when I realized something puzzling.

I was inside a small, closed, confined room all by myself, and I didn’t have a panic attack.

Love has some strange ways indeed, I thought, sauntering out of the room leisurely, plucking another glass of champagne from a tray.

Better to not find out what they are.