Page 194 of Enemies

“What did you do?” she demands.

It’s half her sudden appearance that slams into me and half how she looks.

Fresh, wary, beautiful.

The woman I spent months loving and even longer aching for is here, a few feet away.

“Not nearly enough.”

Before I can think twice, I step over my brother and cross the room, grab the back of Raegan’s neck, and drag her to me.

I crush her lips beneath mine. She tastes like toothpaste and home, and I kiss her with desperation and anger and exhaustion.

Every trip I’ve taken, every time I’ve reminded myself my decision to leave was for the best—it all took a toll on me. From the outside, I might look as powerful as ever. On the inside… my soul corrodes.

I need her.

My tongue slips between her lips, stroking and claiming as my fingers tighten in her damp hair. Her scent is floral from her shower, but beneath that, it’s all Raegan.

A wet hand grabs my forearm and pushes me away.

My heart hammers as I take in her swollen lips, her hazy eyes.

Of all the decisions I’ve made in my life, I’d regretted exactly one—telling my parents to get out of the business and causing their deaths.

Since I learned they weren’t trying to leave, that regret faded away, replaced with rage and confusion. The past year, I’ve been angry at them, and at Ivanov for killing them and setting me on a path that made me build a business that would redeem and honor them.

But around the anguish, I’ve found a new regret: losing this woman.

Because I can’t regret loving her, not when the feel of her under me is so jarringly exquisite.

Before I can speak, her palm cracks across my face.

Stars explode behind my eyes, a riot of white and black blossoming as pain radiates up my cheekbone and jaw.

When I can see again, my neck is craned awkwardly and I’m staring at Sebastian reclined on the floor and chewing a piece of rescued cereal.

“Fuck,” he declares. “I’ve never seen a woman hit you before.”

But when I turn back to Rae, she looks surprised by her own reaction.

“We need to talk,” I say. “In private.”

“No.”

Frustration rises up. “I’ll take you for dinner.”

“I have a show tonight.”

“It wasn’t on your schedule.”

I catch my mistake at the same time she does.

“A recent addition,” she says.

She’s changed since I saw her last. Besides the quiet confidence that’s more than skin-deep, she has “recent additions” that come up, independent of me apparently.

Her gaze narrows. “I need to get dressed.”

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