Page 47 of Ruthless Love

Saying nothing, she nods.

Her body fits against my chest like she’s meant to be this close, and her arms wrap around my neck. It’s not exactly a hike from the front door to the sofa, but I take my sweet time. I set her down on one end, then sit next to her and take her shapely legs onto my lap, massaging them a little before uncinching the straps on her hot-as-fuck shoes.

I don’t make eye contact. I need her to talk. “Tell me what’s going on.”

She relaxes back, tugging her skirt down with an adorable modesty that’s a relief.

“I’ve tried to break up with my fiancé a dozen times, and every time, he seduces me into staying. Well, every time except the last when he had Lurch do it. Because I’m needy, and desperate, and as much as I know this man is manipulating me, I can’t think when he touches me. I need to be cured. Invincible.”

A pang of regret hits my stomach. “Maybe you have genuine feelings for him. No amount of sleeping around will cure that.” I wrap my hands around a foot and knead it until a relaxed noise comes from her lips.

“But that’s just it. I’m not. I—” She stops herself, as if holding something back.

I rub a little harder until her body falls back. “You can relax. I’m one of the best when it comes to keeping secrets.” It’s probably the most honest thing I can say.

Reassured, she starts again. “My father set up this arrangement. Not an arranged marriage, exactly, but he introduced us. Right away, Dimitri wined and dined me, but his wandering eye was more than I could take. I broke it off and had a friend pose as my fake fiancé.”

“Rushing the love along?” I ask, but keep my eyes on her pink pedicure, not wanting to embarrass her.

“Not exactly. Trying to keep him away.” Her shrug is filled with uncertainty. “But then Dimitri really turned up the charm. Swore off other women. Said he couldn’t breathe without me. Begged me to give him a second chance. When I said I’d think about it, he whisked me away to Paris. Got down on one knee and proposed with a string quartet playing, ‘Make You Feel My Love.’ My family was there. How could I say no? I mean, technically, I didn’t actually say yes. When he slipped the ring on my finger, fireworks started, and my dad gave me the biggest hug. That night was the first and last time Dimitri and I had sex. Months and months ago.”

Her eyes meet mine. “I’m only telling you this because I’m sure you’ve heard and seen it all.”

Giving her a weak nod, I say, “I’ve seen a lot.” Though I hope I’m hiding the relief on my face.

Evie lets out a long sigh. “God, it feels good to get this out.”

“You seem to have a lot of pent-up feelings.”

“You don’t know the half of it. I’m blowing through vibrators like the damn things are disposable.”

Stunned, I stop massaging for only a second, which I cover by grabbing her other foot.

“And every time he wants me back, my body is so needy and wanting, I’m putty at just his touch. I keep handing him back his damn ring, and he keeps putting it back on my finger. I need to, I don’t know, strengthen my resolve. The next time he touches me, I want to feel nothing. At all.”

“What if you catch him in the act?”

“Been there. Done that. Hell, I was so turned around the one time, I fell right into his hall table. Hit myself in the eye. His damn mistress grabbed a bag of frozen peas for me—in her pretty satin robe and all. Like they were the couple and I was their houseguest. And Dimitri was so tender. I know, I sound like a blithering idiot, but he put me up in his room and waited on me hand and foot for three days to make sure I was okay.”

“Tell me he at least sent his mistress away.”

“Sure. But he blows through women faster than tissues.”

“Or than Evie does vibrators?”

“Exactly.” She laughs, then eagerly looks at me. “Will you help me?”

Her puppy-dog eyes are ridiculous. Like, I’m turning down the woman who begs me to fuck her away from Dimitri Antonov.

Challenge fucking accepted.

Sure, a small part of me feels guilty that she’s only doing this because she thinks I’m a pro. And to be honest, I’ve had my share. I’m not sure I’m a pro. All American, for sure. In situations like this, I do what I do best. Analyze. Then rationalize.

“What exactly is it that you want me to do?” Before she can drop the f-bomb again, or go into a play-by-play, I clarify. “I mean, what are you hoping to get out of this?”

She takes a long thoughtful moment before answering. “I don’t want to crumble at his touch. The next time he tries to give this ring back to me, I want to tell him to shove it. Politely, of course, but without the chance of him giving it back. I mean, it’s not like he’s desperate for my money or anything. And I ...”

When she sucks in her lower lip to find the right word, I can’t help but climb on top of her. Though I keep most of my weight off her, my cock presses against her entrance, and despite her clothes and mine, her eyes widen in surprise.

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