Page 137 of The Penalty

Without saying another word, I grabbed my bag and headed to the door. Just as I was about to walk out I heard, “We should do this again in a more intimate setting. Ask Xavier if he still shares his girlfriends.”

Victoria

Why did you come to London?

Bennet’s question rattled through my brain as I stood on the sidewalk in a downpour.

The answer is obvious.

Glancing up at Xavier’s white stone townhouse, I finally allowed the tears to flow. I came here for him. Jordan knew I would and played on it and now…now I’ve ruined everything.

The rain fell harder, soaking me to the bone. I forced myself to approach the front door. As I attempted to ring the bell, the door swung open.

Xavier and I stared at one another in silence. Flickers of anger, concern, and regret cycled through his features.

Oh my God, he knows.

Arctic eyes swept over me in one steady, controlled movement. “Get out of the rain, Tori.”

Reaching for my hand, he pulled me inside. He led me to his bedroom in silence, rummaged through his closet, and handed me dry clothes. I just stood there like an idiot, holding the clothes and fighting back tears.

After a few seconds Xavier took the clothes, put them on the bed, and started undressing me. Well, it wasn’t so much undressing me as it was more peeling off my blouse, skirt, bra, and panties. Everything was drenched.

I’ve stood naked in front of him countless times but I’ve never felt as bare as I did now.

Xavier stared at my neck while he towel dried my hair. Rage twisted his mouth into a snarl when he brushed his fingers over my skin. I swallowed, looking down.

It didn’t register with me that I’d been shivering until he pulled a sweatshirt over my head. When he knelt to help me step into his warmup pants, I grabbed onto his shoulders. He stopped, looking up at me briefly.

My heart did the thing it always does when I see him on his knees. It pounded with reckless abandon.

Slowly, and with great care, he pulled the pants up my legs and over my hips. Then he stroked a finger down my neck again before taking my hand.

The silence continued when he led me to the kitchen and I watched him prepare a kettle of water. He grabbed two mugs, two tea bags, and two spoons. I won’t lie, all this quiet and the mundane tasks were getting to me.

“Xavier,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Scrubbing his face with his hands, he exhaled a harsh breath. “Jesus,” he muttered, yanking me into a rough embrace. I clung to him while choking out a sob. “It’s okay, love. You’re okay.”

“I’m sorry.” I buried my face in his chest, embarrassed and furious with myself. “I thought I could handle him. I wanted—”

Xavier’s kiss cut me off. “You,” he whispered on my lips. Feather-light strokes along my jaw soothed my erratic pulse. “We have all night to talk about what happened. Right now, my only concern is getting you comfortable.”

I nodded, melting into his hug.

The kettle clicked off once the water boiled. Xavier escorted me to the couch and finished preparing our tea. When he sat with me, I curled up next to him, resting my head in his lap. We stayed like this —me nestled against his thigh, him running a hand through my hair— listening to the rain.

Instead of enjoying the serenity, all the shitty things Jordan said polluted my mind.

“Xavier?”

“Yes, love.”

“Did I make everything worse for us?”

His touch stilled, and he stiffened.

“Don’t sugar coat it.” I sat up. “I broke your trust. I did the one thing you asked me not to do.”

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