Rough Edge (The Edge #1)(12)

Greyson could handle herself. Everyone who wanted her for anything needed to be far away from me.

“Look,” I said, “it’s been a long day.”

“No need to explain. You’re barely out of your scrubs and I’m bugging you. It’s fine. Say hello to Dr. Molino anyway.”

“Yeah. Sure. Of course.”

He left with a spring in his step. Nothing wiped the smile off that guy’s face, but he was a shark. If he wanted Greyson for this psych unit, he’d have her. I knew it, and so did Abramson.

Opening my locker again, I got a whiff of her perfume. I couldn’t resist taking it after I’d decided to starve the Thing out. Maybe that was why I’d failed to eradicate it.

I got dressed and walked out with Greyson on the brain. When the door whooshed closed, the sound was a sigh of longing for the only woman I’d ever loved. I locked it away.



* * *



I could put on a suit and knot a tie. I could put jeweled links into a starched cuff. I could shower, shave, comb my hair, but it was all a lie. It was all a costume, a mask. Under it, I was no more than a knot of bodily needs and overwhelming sexual urges. My mind was a set of neurons firing commands to my glands, and the glands sent emotions through my bloodstream.

She was mine.

Not his.

The Thing was male, and its strength was its persistence.

The neurons said I had to have her in my line of sight, but I’d bring the Thing right to her.

The only way to keep it away from her was to keep my distance.

But the animal said no. The animal I was knew that wouldn’t work because she was mine.

Navigating between all these urges was exhausting. But as I entered the fundraiser, I took a breath. The exhaustion was under my suit. Behind my smile and polite words. No one could see.

She was with her brother and Jenn. Her hair was piled on top of her head and her earrings dropped down the length of her neck. She wore nude lipstick, and under the satin bodice of her gown, her nipples were hard. She was the picture of grace and charm, with a smile that transformed everyone around her and eyes that comforted people into talking.

The Thing saw her. In the bouncing acoustics of the room, it whispered its longing.

“Hello.” Colin shook my hand.

I hadn’t even seen him coming toward me. Just her. Only her.

“Nice to see you.” I angled myself so I could see her over his shoulder.

“I’m hitting the bar, can I get you something?”

“I’m good, thanks.” I patted his shoulder and headed for her, crossing half a ballroom without acknowledging another soul.

The Thing got more vocal, hiding in the voices of the guests and the strings of the musicians’ instruments.

I could smell her from farther away than normal. Apples. No matter which perfume she wore, she smelled of the first bite of an apple, breaking taut skin with teeth, juice dripping down my chin. She was the satin skin and the crisp meat of the fruit. She was the hard seed and the tenacious stem.

I found her.

Ronin.

Laughing.

Arm around her shoulders.

He’d touched her. He’d had her. He’d licked the apples off her skin and touched her body. He wanted her again. Of course he did. She was beautiful and sexy. Any man would want her. I was filled with an unreasonable fury. A foul grimace in my soul. A call to action lubricated by rage.

I headed for them, bumping into a woman from pediatrics. I excused myself, and when I turned back, Ronin was gone.

In the seven steps to my wife, I came to some sort of sense.

Ronin was not a threat.

On the flip side, I was losing my fucking mind.

Kissing Jenn first was a delay tactic. I needed a moment to reduce my pulse rate. It didn’t work. When I kissed Greyson’s cheek and she slipped her hand in mine, the animal threatened to burst out of his suit.

I always desired her. Every minute. But this?

I wanted to drag her out by her hair, respecting the norms of privacy only because I wouldn’t be able to finish in the middle of the ballroom. I wanted to squeeze her flesh, mark her in bruises, leave streaks of semen on her. Make the Thing scream in horror and curl up in a ball far away.

I couldn’t live like this anymore.

But I was in a public place.

The suit was who I needed to be.

The suit was armor against the horrifying sight of the animal.

I didn’t look at her. Didn’t touch her. I focused on the distance between us and the eyes of a hundred people. I listened to Bob Abramson talk about money and bullshit, concentrating hard enough to make a decent show of being civilized.

In the dark, during the fundraising video, she leaned into me, taking my hand. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Caden.” My name was more than a statement. It was a comment on how well she knew the animal, and how well she loved it.

If eyes could listen, hers did, gazing at me in the darkness. I couldn’t lie to her for much longer.

The entire invite list was watching the video. The bar was empty. The hallway lights were dimmed. The kitchen staff moved constantly and quietly to set up the buffet.

I laced my fingers in hers. She had a gold band we’d gotten out of expediency. No big sparkling rock. No sign I’d ever courted her properly before marrying her.

My father always said a man didn’t skip steps if he wanted to do something once.