Page 47 of In Love with a Ruthless Man

Why are you here? Did you know about this? Do you think I deserve this? Do I have the right to feel hurt?

Those were the questions she should ask. And there were more she should ask, but right now all she could think of was—-

Grant.

Tears stung her eyes, and she tried, God, she really tried to keep them from falling, but she couldn’t.

The prince’s hands pressed harder against her eyes, and as the tears flowed faster, she also found herself seeking shelter in the black, unseeing world he offered.

He really was the Prince of Darkness, she mused numbly,and right now it was what she needed.

Behind her, she heard the prince ask in a quiet, neutral tone, “What do you want to do?”

A shudder went through her at the words.

What do you want to do?

The words made things so hurtfully real, made it impossible for her to keep closing her eyes until she could pretend that she had just imagined what she saw.

Sobs tried to crawl out of Fawn’s throat but she forced them back down, sinking her teeth into her lower lip until she drew blood.It was tempting – so, so tempting – to sink deeper into the oblivion the prince’s hands offered.

But she knew she couldn’t do that.

Because now she realized that was what she had been doing all these months.

Pretending she didn’t notice Grant was changing—-

Pretending she didn’t know Grant was lying—-

Pretending she didn’t feel Grant was cheating—-

Fawn reached shakily for the prince’s hands, and she didn’t have to say anything else. It was as if he had read her mind, felt her need to face her fears and her pains, and the prince slowly released her from his hold.

She turned to him.

She could see him again.

And somehow, even though Grant was no longer in front of her, seeing made the pain worse.

He took her hand, and she let him. A moment later, and he was drawing her away from the door. As they descended the stairs, they heard footsteps coming up and the prince automatically released her hand.

She followed behind him, neither of them speaking until they made it out of the building where the prince’s limousine was waiting.

He helped her inside and as the car started to move, the prince said casually, “Just say the word—-”

She looked at him in confusion.

“And he’ll die tonight if you want.”

Fawn almost, almost laughed. “Prince.”

His rock-hard shoulders moved in a Gallic shrug. “You know who I am.”

“Oh, of course I know you,” she managed to say with feigned solemnity. “You’re Reid Chalkias, Christopoulos University’s most infamous and heartless playboy.”

“And a prince,” he reminded her solemnly.

“And a prince,” she agreed.

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