Page 50 of Sex, Lust & Lingerie

Alarmed, Jaime jumped to his feet and reached for my hand. “Let me see your finger.”

I jerked my hand away from him. “Don’t touch me!” I hissed.

I snatched a clean napkin off the table and wrapped it around the wound. With tears scorching my face, I raced out of the restaurant.

Thank goodness, I’d given the valet an extra ten bucks to keep my car parked nearby. It was still sitting in front of the restaurant. The cool ocean breeze sent goosebumps all over me.

“That’s my car,” I told one of the attendants, pointing to the black Porsche with my good hand. My voice was rushed. Manic. “The key’s inside.”

Catching sight of the now bloodstained napkin wrapped around my other hand, the valet sensed my urgency.

Without wasting a second, I stepped off the curve and rounded my car to the driver’s side door. As I gripped the cold metal handle with my good hand, I felt two powerful hands clutch my waist. They spun me around, and I was face-to-face with the man I never wanted to see again. Jaime Zander.

“Let go of me, you bastard!” I tried to squirm away, but it was futile. He held on to me too firmly.

His intense denim blues gazed into my wretched, watering eyes. “Gloria, it’s not what you think. You don’t understand. Please. You have to trust me.”

“Trust you? You want me to trust you?” God fucking damn it. “I did trust you. I let you fuck me till I fell apart. I just wasn’t counting on you to make my heart fall apart so soon.” My nostrils flared as I swallowed back a sob. “You and Vivien belong together.”

Desperation swept over his face. “No, I belong with you, angel.”

“Don’t ever call me that!” Tears flooded my eyes. I jerked my head away from him. With one hand, he clenched my jaw, forcing me to look his way. I resisted.

“Stop it! You’re hurting me.”

He immediately let go, and I turned on my own to face him.

His eyes softened into mine, his voice low and repentant. “I’m sorry, angel. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Well, you could have fooled me.” Tears streamed down my face. I was worn out, physically and emotionally. I pleaded with him one more time: “Please. Let. Me. Go.”

To my unexpected relief, he released me and stepped back. “I’m sorry, angel. I wish I could explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain. Actions speak louder than words.” With that, I clambered into the car, slamming the door shut. It locked before he could yank it open. Cursing, he punched the roof as I threw the sports car into first gear. Fuck him! Without another look at him, I floored the gas pedal and peeled away with an ear-piercing screech.

My hands shook on the steering wheel, and tears blinded my vision as I turned right off Ocean Avenue onto Wilshire Boulevard. Thank God, it was just one short, straight line back to my condo. My finger throbbed, and my heart was running a marathon of anguish and despair. How could I have let this man get to me? How could I have been so spineless, so gullible? So stupid? I hated Jaime. I hated Vivien. But most of all, I hated myself.

My phone rang. Without looking down, I knew it had to be him. Screw him. I never wanted to talk to the bastard again. Distraught and distracted, I blasted through a red light. As the phone rang again, a deafening horn blared in my ears. In the periphery of my vision, I saw it. A Parcel Post truck was zooming my way. As my aching heart slammed against my chest, I slammed on the brakes. The horn and my screams collided as my life came to a screeching halt and disappeared before me.

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