Page 29 of Savage Romance
“Are you… Do you?” The head of housekeeping looked around and muttered something in Spanish under her breath. With a scrunched-up face, she abandoned her cart. “Why do you want to find Mrs. Zoe?”
Ben hesitated and scrubbed a hand over his chest.
An inability to fill his lungs to their full capacity left a dull sensation inside his ribcage or was it his heart hurting? Why don’t I make a bigger fool of myself and tell her the truth? I deserve her judgment and scorn. I’ve behaved appallingly.
“On Monday, I discovered something about Zoe that… upset me. I—I reacted... badly. I want to find Zoe and explain. Apologize to her.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kicking off her shoes at the edge of the doormat, Zoe dropped her purse and keys on the narrow side table in the hall and draped her jacket over a chair.
Her hair and clothes stank of the grease from the fast-food restaurant where she’d gotten a day job and her feet ached from being on them all day.
Zoe sank down onto the creaky single bed in her cheap rental apartment and massaged one arch while she wiggled the toes of her other foot. Her job didn’t pay much, but hotel manager positions were harder to find. This apartment was cheap, and she didn’t need much for herself. Mentally, she went over her financial affairs. Even with her small salary, she managed to set aside a tidy sum each week. If she wanted to pay Ben back for the debt with the sheik, she needed to save every cent she could.
A knock on the door sounded.
Ben?
Relief washed through her. She rushed to the entrance and yanked open the door.
She blinked as not Ben, but Sheik Khalid bin Karim al Hania Abbas and his broad-shouldered goons appeared on her doorstep.
“Um, yes?” She curled her hand around the flimsy wooden door and deliberated the merits of closing it in his face.
“Miss Jones,” the sheik greeted with a smile that sent a shiver up Zoe’s spine. “We meet again.” He pressed his foot forward as if anticipating her resolve to slam the door in his face.
At the sound of her maiden name, Zoe’s shoulders stiffened. “It’s Mrs. Dennehy now.”
“Ah.”
The sheik strode forward in a flurry of white robes, and Zoe stepped back from the door before she could catch herself, and by doing so, allowed him entrance. Inwardly she scolded herself. I should have closed the door when I had the chance!
“You haven’t been living with your”—he smirked and made a strange humming sound—“husband for almost one week and moved into this”—his eyes roamed over the mismatched, cheap furniture, the faded, beige carpet, and the single bed in the corner of the apartment—“establishment.”
Her gaze slid to the open door, where the two bodyguards stood sentry, looking all bad-ass and menacing. No escape was possible there. “Um.” Zoe bit her lip. Not wanting to be intimidated, she fought down the sliver of unease the sheik evoked in her and tried to find her equilibrium. “How—how did you find me?”
“I hired a private investigator to follow you the moment I left after our first meeting. I had a feeling we would meet again. Although the wedding reception was quite convincing, I didn’t expect the relationship to survive past a month. Ben Dennehy isn’t known for keeping his women.” His teeth flashed white against his swarthy skin, but there was nothing warm or pleasant in his smile. “Turned out, I had to wait almost two months, but here you are.” He moved further into the room, crowding her personal space. “Luckily, I’m a patient man, Ms. Jones.”
Zoe backed up a step, and her calves hit the mattress.
His arm shot forward, and he grabbed Zoe’s chin and angled her face.
The hairs on her arms and at the nape of her neck lifted, making her hypersensitive. The sheik’s bony fingers tightened around her chin into a painful grip. She tried to look past him to scan her line of escape, but his body blocked everything else from her sight.
“He didn’t pay, you know, and that makes you mine.” The sheik leaned in. He forced her head further back, making her expose her throat. “I like a woman with pale skin. I bet you’ll mark up nicely when I use a whip on you.” He ran his nose over the column of her throat. “Or a knife.”
She whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ben was on the phone with Lenny the instant Conchita gave him the address. “Thank you for telling me,” he said, mustering up the courtesy of letting her know he appreciated her candor before he started for the side exit. The woman behind him chuckled. Yeah, she understands. It seemed to him, the housekeeper not only understood but approved. Another employee he was indebted to now, and something he filed away for later.
As soon as Lenny answered, Ben spoke over him, “I’m sorry Lenny, I’m in an awful rush. Can you meet me at the side door?” He strode down the long hall and pushed the exit door only employees used open with his shoulder. As soon as Lenny answered, “On it.” Ben slipped the phone into his back pocket. Tires screeched and as skillful as Kyle Busch drove the Kansas Speedway, Lenny whipped the Bentley into the employee parking lot.
Before the car got to a standstill, Ben yanked the passenger side door open and slid inside.
“Where to, sir?” Lenny didn’t bat an eyelash, smoothly reversed the car, and executed a U-turn.
