Page 76 of Arran's Obsession

Even just dancing, she wasn’t safe.

If Genevieve and I were a real couple, two people who’d met and fallen in love, this would be my reality. Constantly looking over my shoulder to make sure no one was coming for her. I bred danger. Invited it to follow me around. Never once had I considered how that would affect a partner, even a fake one.

Then my anger rose again, because fuck the idea that this was fake.

She belonged to me.

Even if I had no idea how I could have that and not risk her life every day. Just as harsh came the rejection that I was my father. That claiming ownership of her smacked of how he’d collected women in the past.

The waiter reappeared with our drinks, and I grasped my cold glass and slammed back the Scotch.

I had to distance myself from her. Get myself under fucking control. For the sake of everything I’d built, I had to prove to myself just how little Genevieve mattered.

Chapter 24

Genevieve

The pulse of the music moved through me, my spirit rising, a natural high battling the sour mood I’d picked up from Arran. I’d made the mistake of nurturing the cosy feeling he’d given me, excited to show him how I’d looked after my makeover, then gutted when he didn’t react.

Hadn’t he told me he’d be faking?

I had no reason to be pissed off with him, and yet there it was, a tight ball in my belly. Returning to the city was making me remember who I was. The song thrilling me—‘Cola’ by CamelPhat and Elderbrook—one I’d play when I sped through the city on my scooter, was bringing me back to life. To Arran, I was nothing more than a combination of an asset and a liability. He liked fucking me but he hated having me around.

My hurt bled from all the little stab wounds I endured every time I thought we’d made a connection. None of it was real. Why was I pretending to myself?

After a while of losing myself in the DJs mix, I was gasping for breath, overheated. Lara grabbed my hand. To dance with me, she’d stripped her waistcoat, leaving her in a skintight hot-pink slip and the black-and-pink shorts of her uniform. Hot as fuck.

She indicated back to the table. Drinks? God, yes.

We returned, and I took the cocktail glass in front of my place and knocked it back. Arran had called it an espresso martini. All I tasted was the caffeine. Absolutely delicious.

Then I chanced a look at Arran. His gaze found mine, but still that coldness held.

It made even less sense how my body cried out for his, and I rejected the pull. As if he felt it, too, his focus slipped down my form. It delivered images of sex. Me flat on my back and him thrusting into me. Me on my knees. His hands all over my skin.

A rush of anger slid through me for all I wanted and that would never be mine.

“I want to go to Divine now,” I called over the thumping music. “You don’t have to come.”

Arran barely reacted. “I’m taking you.”

“Wouldn’t want to cause you any trouble.”

Those eyes of his were almost black. “I said I’d give you the tour, and I’ll fucking do it.”

Right. Because the show had to go on.

“Fine.” I spun on my heel and stalked away.

Back down the steps from the VIP area, I stomped, Manny dashing past to take the lead. Then a hand grasped mine hard. Arran, demonstrating his possession to all.

We left the club for the quieter corridors, crossing the central office space for the strip club entrance on the other side. But I’dbeen here and had seen all of that. I needed something else. My buttons to be pushed. My knowledge of his world to be complete.

I stopped him. “Upstairs.”

His eyes held a challenge, but he gave a shrug and changed our direction for the stairs. Another passcode opened the door. My heart was in my mouth. It felt like the longest time ago that I’d had the third part of his business in my sights. Since I’d snuck around and been on the other side of this world. Now, I was tits-deep in it.

Temporarily, my brain supplied.

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