Page 33 of Fool's Gold

Instead of giving up, she arches her back, thrusting her breasts up into my face as she kisses me. Her tongue takes advantage of my surprise and glides between my lips, tracing a line across the tip of my own as she angles her head to deepen the kiss.

She tastes like wintergreen and death.

The same taste I’d imagine from a poisonous berry looking oh so tender and delectable only to kill you with your first bite.

Surprise keeps me still, and I clench my hands at my sides rather than wrap them around her like any natural inclination. There she stands, a beautiful and deadly woman, dressed to perfection with a killing glint in her eyes, and bile crawls up my throat.

“Get your shit together,” Celeste murmurs once she breaks the kiss. Every word pierces my flesh. “Or you risk the entire enterprise. I like you. I wouldn’t want you to be a liability, Marcus.”

She finally steps back, and I breathe again. A small kiss to the side of my mouth punctuates the statement, and she turns to walk out, swinging her hips. At the door, she pauses to cast a smirk over her shoulder. Her eyes skip right over me, and I know she’s landed a hit.

The smirk is for Empire alone.

ELEVEN

Vile woman.

She knew about me the entire time. Purposely dropped her voice to a volume too low for me to pick up and angled herself to make lip reading impossible.

But I saw the kiss.

She made sure of it.

Every press of her body to his, every minuscule movement and glide of her mouth. I saw them. My spine goes rigid, and something between anxiety and anger prickles my skin like drops of acid.

Body language is something you can fake, for sure, but I don’t think she’s faking a thing. I think she wants him, and she came here tonight to take advantage of a moment of weakness and show me, prove to me, how tight the noose is really pressed to my skin.

She wants the film produced and out in the world, but her professional goals and her personal goals…

Black and gold spots dance in front of my eyes.

She meant to strike a blow with the kiss and damn her, but it landed right where she wanted it to. Straight through my cracked and bleeding heart. I press my hand against its uneven beats, like I’ll somehow be able to make it work right again, even as she gloats her way out the door.

My knees go a little weak, and I snap them together to stay where I am rather than dropping straight down to the floor.

I’ve seen enough.

Today can go straight to hell and not come back. There’s no hope of salvaging any minute of it. And dinner?

My gut constricts into a series of knots and blockages. If I try to eat, I’ll puke. Hunger is a distant memory.

Tears burning against the corners of my eyes, I turn, fumbling for the knob. I close the bedroom door behind me as quietly as possible. There’s no way I’m sticking around to see if there’s another performance. Or, fucking forbid, Marcus decides to take her up on her offer and work out a little rage between her thighs.

More than likely, he’s following her to the door, grabbing her by all that perfect bleached hair, and going in for another kiss. How could he resist her?

She’s gorgeous.

And the few words I caught of her exit speech? She’s right. We’re nothing but wrong for each other, an older man who has lived life and has so many experiences under his belt and…a child.

Celeste called me a child.

Of course he’d want a woman like her. Not a girl.

Marcus is in his forties. He’ll want a woman with poise and class and experience.

How many times has he branded me a spoiled brat?

If I see them head to his room, I won’t recover. And the chances of seeing exactly that are high enough for me not to take the risk. In the bedroom, I can pretend; I can make the world whatever I want it to be.

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