Page 50 of Savage Game
Byron clenched his hand around the phone. “Hire a fucking caterer.” His words came out guttural.
Randall let out another nasty chuckle. “Ah, well. Sure, a caterer could take care of some of the needs my guests have, but not all.”
Byron closed his eyes in disgust and pinched the bridge of his nose. Charlotte was not going back to this bastard—not in his lifetime. Not even if he had to keep her prisoner in his penthouse for the rest of her life.
Realizing he had to be very careful with his response for both Charlotte and Randall, he curtly reminded, “That wasn’t the deal.”
“I can compensate you.”
“How?”
“Name your price.”
“This… asset is priceless.”
“Come on, it’s not like her pussy is made of gold or something. I find her rather dull and unresponsive unless she’s screaming with pain. She has a nice scream. Sadly, she doesn’t scream easily. Not even Connolly can get her to scream much anymore.”
Byron ground his back teeth so forcefully, they might have cracked. He wouldn’t extend a hand to the man if he were drowning, and the Devil would be ice-skating in hell before he’d give up Charlotte. “A deal is a deal, Randall.”
“Fuck man, can’t you give a friend a break?”
“You’re not my friend, and you’re the one who made the deal, remember?”
“I know that,” Randall whined. “Fuck, man, I can give you the money now.”
This time it was Byron’s turn to give a mirthless chuckle. “No, you can’t. I’m going to hold you to the deal, and that’s final.”
Byron pulled the phone from his ear and pushed the disconnect button on the screen, cutting off the sound of Randall’s protest. He exhaled through his nose and fought back the urge to throw his phone across the room. Ending a call with an old-fashioned landline would at least have given him the satisfaction of slamming the receiver down.
A welcome presence at his side distracted him, and he slid the cellphone into his pocket. “Kittycat.” He shuffled back to create room for her and pulled her on his lap.
She curled her arms around his neck and cuddled against him.
He inhaled her light floral scent and tightened his arms around her. “What can I do for you?”
She pushed herself up with her hands on his shoulders and tipped her head back. “Funny, that was what I wanted to ask you.”
He pressed a kiss to her nose and gathered his thoughts. Testing the water, he volunteered, “That was Liam calling.”
She didn’t show any emotion in her face but her hands on his shoulders tightened to the point of discomfort. “I guessed as much.”
“We’re three weeks into our agreement, and I want to discuss how to continue after this. What are your plans?”
She swallowed and worried her lip. He stroked the pad of his thumb over her mouth and freed the flesh from between her teeth. If her mouth was swollen it would be from his kisses. Byron hated to unsettle her, but they needed to talk and sooner rather than later.
She opened and closed her mouth, stared over his shoulder at a point on the wall, and heaved a sigh.
Curling his hand around her cheek, he returned her gaze to his face. “Charlotte, I love you. I would like for you to stay with me.”
Her entire body stiffened, and tears pooled in her eyes. “There’s nothing I would rather do, but I don’t think I should.”
His face darkened, and his scars became more pronounced. His shoulder muscles under her hands bunched with tension, and he radiated unhappiness.
She stroked the sides of his neck with her index fingers and kept her hands on his shoulders. Her mind raced, as she tried to find the courage to talk about her plans.
“Hey”—he curled his hand around her cheek—“tell me, baby. Whatever it is that’s on your mind, you can tell me.”
“I know.” And she really did. His consistency, his patience, his… well, his everything told her of his sincerity. It would be so easy just to accept his offer to remain, but she knew that while it would be the far easier path, it wasn’t the one she was meant to take. She blinked hard and took a fortifying breath.
