Page 43 of Vengeful Union

I put my books on the nightstand.

Someone has come up and straightened the room–my new clothes are all hanging up and the wine glass and plate are gone, the bed made.

“Goodnight, Lara.”

I look up at him. “Goodnight, Rory.”

He shuts the door, and I read late into the night, trying to keep my mind off of him, my upcoming marriage, and most of all, the nightmare I had.

ChapterFourteen

14

RORY

I findit surprisingly hard to sleep, and when I do doze off, I find myself dreaming about Lara Burke’s big, green eyes.

I wake up with the vaguest memory of watching her laugh in my mother’s library, and I frown to myself, sitting up. I feel a little out of place, somehow expecting to be back in my apartment in another city.

My father’s guest room is much more ornate and a lot bigger than my bedroom back at home.

Home.

I grew up in this house, but it feels less like home than anywhere else I’ve ever been. I miss my penthouse apartment, miss my doorman, Dave. I even miss the weird cat lady who lives on the bottom floor and always complains about her life to me while we check our mail.

But I’m trying to focus on Lara, on this plan, on keeping her and my sister safe. I have to go through with this wedding. I have to convince my father that I’m doing this for all the right reasons.

Or rather, the wrong reasons.

I head into the shower connected to the guest bedroom, and luckily there’s some toiletries in there. The staff keeps up the guest rooms for my father’s men, who often stay over, especially when we need heavy security.

I’m surprised that my father hasn’t already initialized a heavy security situation, but he may be waiting for closer to the wedding.

Which is scheduled for the weekend, just four days away.

I’m going to get married in four days.

I shuck off my pajama pants and underwear and get into the shower, growling when it’s too cold. I finally get the temperature right, and the water pours down on top of my head, waking me up.

I take my time washing my hair and my body, feeling like I’ve got ants crawling under my skin. I’m just anxious about all of this, about the possibility of my father finding out I’m working with Lara, about getting married, even though it’ll be temporary.

I look down at my morning erection, sighing softly. May as well let off some steam.

I skim my fingers below my belly button, and I let out a moan when I wrap my fingers around myself.

It’s usually pretty easy to get off this way, in the shower, thinking about past experiences I’ve had with women. Or sometimes, it’s a faceless, nameless woman, just a body.

I’m not very imaginative.

But when I start to pump my fist, my breath coming shorter, it’s Lara’s bright eyes that flash in my mind. Her thin frame, the way her hips are just slightly wide, her ass bigger than her slightness would suggest.

I think about how small her hand fit in mine, how her lips felt parting against mine when I kissed her.

Her name is on my lips when I spill onto the shower wall, and I pant, looking down at the water swirling down the drain.

What the hell was that?

I try not to think about it, hurriedly getting out of the shower and toweling off. I’m still breathing hard when I put on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. I’m running out of clothes since I only packed for a few days, and I’ll have to ask Kristina to do my laundry.

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