Page 78 of Reckless Temptation

I was riled up with impatience to see her after all that happened last night. And I was eager to talk to her and jointly take the first step toward the future I couldn’t stop thinking about.

People filed out of the study and dining room, but Sabrina wasn’t among them.

What the fuck?

I stood, noticing the short guy Sabrina always seemed to sit next to. “Do you know where Sabrina is?”

“What?” He furrowed his brow and leaned forward. “Sabrina?”

I nodded. “Where is she?” As I waited for him to answer, I looked past him, wondering if my impatience to see her and case of missing her was making me jump too soon and assume she wasn’t here anymore.

“She went out back, looking for Professor Lorsen. He went out the glass doors.”

Outside, then.

I nodded my thanks and took off for the wide, wraparound patio area out back. And I arrived just in time to see them up ahead. Tiffany walked before Sabrina, alongside the pool. The sight of my cruel, lying stepsister filled me with rage, but I tempered myself, knowing she wouldn’t have any power over me once I revealed her manipulation.

What happened next spiked adrenaline to mix with red-hot fury.

As I jogged to catch up to them, my focus on the curvy, sweet woman I couldn’t think about not having in my life, Tiffany spun quickly and charged back at her. In the next blip of time, Sabrina was falling. It wasn’t a mere nudge, but a full-on tackle and shove.

“No!” I sprinted, determined to spare Sabrina any more suffering. She’d already faced enough—too much—at the Lorsens’ expense. It was just a pool. It was only water. But I knew she couldn’t swim.

Tiffany staggered back, her mouth open in surprise at my yell. I paid her no attention as I reached the pool, diving in to retrieveSabrina. No hesitation came. Not a second to spare. I jumped in to reach her as she went under, her arms flailing and water splashing with her frantic movements to stay afloat.

I swam toward her, gritting my teeth and hating that vile woman watching me save her. Tiffany wasn’t just cruel. She was sadistic. Evil.

But as soon as I grabbed hold of Sabrina and urged her to hold on to me, I let that raw anger fade back. I concentrated on the good I could do instead. The love and comfort I could—and would—offer Sabrina, not the hatred I would direct at my stepsister.

“I’ve got you.” I shoved Sabrina’s hair back from her face as she gasped and trembled. “Okay? I’ve got you, Sabrina. I’ve got you.”

She nodded shakily, clinging to me as I treaded water, keeping us up. Then without releasing her at all, I turned and swam toward the steps, intent on getting her out and dry, to being there to comfort her after this unnecessary scare.

“Pathetic,” Tiffany spat as I carried Sabrina out. “Can you try to be the center of attention any more than this?”

“Get the fuck away from me,” I warned her as she followed us toward the pool house, where Sabrina could have privacy to calm down.

“No. I don’t think I will,” Tiffany said as she continued after us. With the glass doors open to the pool house, it wasn’t as shut off as I wanted. Sabrina didn’t need any more eyes on her when she was vulnerable after that scare. But no one else was around.

“You’re okay,” I told her as she shivered in my arms.

“Of course, she’s fine. It’s just a pool. She’s acting like a fucking baby, needing attention to get ahead, and I’m sick of it.”

I sat on a wicker couch, keeping Sabrina in my lap, a sopping-wet mess, as I reached for towels from the stack on the coffee table. “I told you to get the fuck out of here.” Nothing would abate this possessive need to take care of Sabrina.

“No.” Tiffany set her hands on her hips and smiled. “No, I won’t.I”—she pointed at herself for emphasis—“toldyou”—she pointed at me—“to ruin her. Not pretend that you care.”

“He… he…” Sabrina narrowed her eyes as she faced her. “He’s not pretending.”

Hope bloomed in my chest.

“He does care… about me,” Sabrina insisted.

“No, idiot. He’s using you. I told him to get a sex tape with you so I could ruin your reputation. So I could get that intern spot.” Her grin widened yet. “And I have it.”

“No, you fucking don’t,” I argued. “You don’t have anything.” And she never would. I couldn’t ever bring myself to incriminate Sabrina—again. I’d spend the rest of my life regretting sharing that painting of her.

“Oh, but I do.” Tiffany tilted her head to the side. “Forget about that, stepbrother?” She lifted her finger to point at a camera anchored to the wall.

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