Page 79 of Fool's Gold

The ladies finished their work and packed up, leaving me alone with the housekeeper.

“It’s fine, Mrs. Norris,” I tell her, smoothing a hand down the front of my dress. “I’m happy to wait for him if you’re ready to head out for the day. Don’t feel like you need to stick around for me.”

She already has her purse slung over her shoulder, casting eager glances between the door and me. “If you’re sure…”

“I’m absolutely sure. You go. I know your daughter had a piano recital tonight. I appreciate you staying late.”

She dips her head in acknowledgment, a middle-aged woman who reminds me of Sherry only in age. “Thank you. Have a wonderful time at your premiere. I know you’re going to have so much fun.”

Fun is an overstatement, but I won’t correct her. Mrs. Norris is already halfway out the door by the time I open my mouth anyway. Let her go; I’m content to wait. It’s almost seven anyway, and the guards are outside, so I’m never really alone.

The door hardly closes before it swings open again. Marcus and his broad shoulders fill the space. He absorbs every atom of light in the room and takes my breath away. Tonight he’s dressed in a slim-fit black Vera Wang tux with a grosgrain notch lapel and smooth flat-front slacks.

I’ve never seen him look better.

My tongue sears to the roof of my mouth. Is this some kind of taunt from the universe? The last time he’d worn the jacket, we were in the car together, his hands on my ass—

The two of us square off, neither one willing to talk or move first. My heart thunders against my ribs in an attempt to get to him. Seeing him now is torture.

Pure, absolute torture.

I can never be cordial with this man. No matter what happens going forward, I’m going to have to cut ties completely because seeing him is only going to pick at the scabs on my heart. It will never be able to heal as long as he’s in my life.

“You look beautiful.”

Those three words break my poor, aching heart into pieces all over again. Just by looking at him, hearing him speak, being in the same energy, he’s pushed me into ruin.

“Thank you,” I force myself to whisper.

“I’m glad you chose to actually wear the dress I picked out this time.” He finally steps over the threshold, a single wide step in my direction.

The world tilts on its axis with the movement.

Oh, god. The ache in my chest increases to the point that I’m terrified of what will happen to me. I’m not going to be able to keep this up. No way in hell.

“You made an exquisite choice.” I fake a smile. “Now, let’s get this party started.”

“You’re not drunk this time?”

I scowl. “What do you think?”

I steel myself for the car ride and the part I’ll have to play when we get to the venue. Then I’ll be done. The words play on a repeat.

It will be done.

I’ll be done.

He doesn’t try to stop me on my way past him, but Marcus doesn’t move, blocking my escape from the room. The walls close in around us. The scent of his cologne stops me, and even knowing what it will do to me, I crane my head to the side and look at him. Really look.

His dark eyes bore through mine until heat fills me.

My hand lifts on its own to caress his chin, the roughness of his stubble scraping my palm. Underneath the blinding rage is pain. Not only on my end but his as well. There are secrets in his eyes, and although I’ve gotten adept at reading them, today they’re thinner than usual, a veil allowing me a glimpse of the man underneath.

The man who is agonized in the same way I am.

“Marcus.”

There’s no way for me to actually tell him everything going on in my head. I barely know myself. But hopefully he knows. Hopefully he sees it when he looks at me this way, looks at me like he loves me. Like I’m the only person in the world who matters.

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