Page 10 of Destined To Fall

“You cancel on me, and here I find you with another man?” He growls in my ear before pulling back.

“Antony, your possessiveness knows no bounds. And I didn’t cancel, exactly. Besides, my days are my own, remember?” I roll my eyes and watch Antony’s anger flare as he opens the door, his eyes blazing and his whole body vibrating with it. His other hand becomes a merciless pressure at the small of my back, pushing me out the door.

“Vivienne, Iownyou,” he whisper-shouts, and I cut him off before he can finish the rest of that train wreck.

“You pay to own my body for a week. Not me. I am, and always will be, a free agent. Don’t mistake compliance for obedience, Antony,” I spit out through gritted teeth.

If that didn’t piss me off so much, I’d find it comical. You can’t own what you’ve never had. He’s never had me. Parts of my body? Those he’s had repeatedly, knows intimately, but the rest of me, not at all. There’s no sharing and caring, no feelings. Ever. It’s why we’ve worked so long and so well together. It’s easy, effortless, and completely detached. What the hell has gotten into him?

My outburst catches Antony off guard. His step falters as we exit onto the street, and I find myself standing outside alone. I turn to look at him still standing in the doorway before he shakes his head and roars with laughter.

“I’m of a mind to spank you, but then, you might enjoy that.”

I suck my bottom lip into my mouth in a vain attempt not to laugh.“No marks allowed. Remember the rules.” But it’s an idle remark, mirth riddling my tone.

“I’m going to fuck the rules.” His eyes dance with yearning, and a newfound hunger replaces his earlier rage. My body responds in kind, my pulse quickening again as desire shoots south. Antony on a mission—it’s one battle you don’t want to win.

He smacks my ass when I reach the rear passenger door, and I yelp in response, turning to mock glare.

“So impatient,” he chastises me, opening the door wider.

I’m about to respond with something witty or snarky when I catch sight of Jeremy through the window, and all previous thought vanishes. His baby blues watch me intently. Before I can think about what I’m doing, my mouth opens.“So, tomorrow night, fancy getting dressed up and showing me off?”

I give Jeremy a last fleeting glance, a small smile playing on my lips before ducking into the car out of sight. Part of me is wishing Antony says no, because seriously, what was I thinking. A smaller part secretly hoping he says yes.

“Go on.”

Chapter Three

Annoyed Antony is one of my favorites. He’s merciless in taking his frustration out on my body. His version of listening involves a lot of hands everywhere. He did, however, agree to go to one of Boston’s annual charity events, somewhere between removing my underwear and getting me flat on my back…for four hours straight.

My subordination was paid in multiple orgasms. I’m pretty sure I came out on top—no pun intended—but I guess it was a win/win. He was in a much better mood the following day.

Come evening, my ass is still feeling the warming sting of Antony’s palm as his town car comes to a stop outside the Langham Hotel. I may have rushed to let myself out, to his displeasure and my amusement.

“Must you always be so impatient?” he asks, coming to stand beside me, then waving off the driver.

“Yes,” I reply.“Besides, I’m quite capable of opening my own doors.”

Antony shakes his head as he leads us toward the entryway, a sigh escaping me as we walk through, taking in all the grandeur.

“Why don’t you stay here anymore?”

“Because, dear Vivienne, everyone else does.”

I snigger at that. Of course it’s his response.

Once we’re through to the function rooms, Antony gives his name to the man at the door. Not for the first time, and surely not the last, I notice with amusement how the greeter’s eyes widen with recognition and maybe even curiosity. Or is it shock? Who knows? It’s the same wherever we go—his name alone has a bizarre effect on those around him. I’ve never been able to get a real response from him when I’ve questioned it. The one and only time I caved and searched his name online, all I found were a few articles in Italian, and various pictures of him at events with a woman on his arm. Surprisingly, most of the images were of me with him. I gave up and closed out of that window fast. No one really wants to see their face splashed all over the Internet, regardless of how flattering the photos are. It’s…strange. I may have paid a tech friend to make me disappear after that.

The doorman recovers quickly with a polite smile before gesturing for us to enter through the wide double doors.

“Your name precedes you yet again,”I quip.

A twitching of his lip is all the response I am to expect as we enter the room.

“Wow,” I whisper, my eyes going wide.

All thoughts of Antony and his reputation evaporate at the exquisite and opulent ballroom.

---