Page 2 of Undeniable Temptation

“Is there anything I can do? Do you want me to contact your lawyer? Or arrange for a flight back home?” She walked toward him and held out the filled glass.

“No. And I don’t want your damn water.” He shooed her with an abrupt wave of his hand. “You should go.”

“I’m not leaving you alone.”

“Then get Sean. Or Mitch. Or Blake. Or Mason.” He made the distance to the scotch bottle in three steps, then swung it high to take a long pull. “Hell, get the concierge, for all I care. Anyone else would be better than you.”

Bam. His cruelty made a direct hit to her chest, blood and sinew splattering everywhere.

“That’s harsh.” She kept her tone light, casual, hoping to smoothly transition him into a new headspace. “What have I done to deserve your anger?”

He shrugged. “I expect you knew she was going to blindside me. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve held back information.”

“Don’t be an ass.” She didn’t care how much alcohol was flowing through his veins, nothing excused such a low blow. Being his support was one thing. Becoming his punching bag was entirely another. “If I made an issue out of every article that claimed one of our group was cheating, or doing drugs, or on the verge of bankruptcy, I’d get no work done. And in the end, those claims about Julie were unfounded, so you need to get over the way I dealt with it.”

He scoffed and took another gulp.

Jesus, he was seconds away from requiring a stomach pump. “Put the bottle down.”

He stretched his arms wide, holding out the scotch, an entirely morphed Ryan standing before her. “Why don’t you come and get it?”

Why?She schooled her expression and came up with a mental list of reasons. First and foremost—being close to Ryan wasn’t a stellar idea. Two—the responding tippy-tap of her heart was a bad sign.

A very bad sign.

But he kept holding out the bottle, taunting her with the opportunity to help.

“Fine.” She maneuvered around the coffee table. “Give it here.”

He grinned, the curve of lips spiteful as he handed over her prize. “I should be happy, right? Now I get to do all those things I missed out on since vowing my life away.”

“Sure.” She searched for the bottle cap, the visual sweep of the floor, table, and couches coming up with nothing. “You’re free to be yourself again.”

“I’m also free to be a player.” His words held the hint of a slur. “All those groupies will be at my disposal. And with the other band members now off the market, I’ll be eating snatch for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

She swallowed the bile rising in her throat. It was the alcohol talking. No question. Only the thought of him being a sleaze sat like a chunk of marble in her belly. “Getting a divorce doesn’t mean you’re exempt from morality. Separating from Julie isn’t going to change who you are.”

“And who am I?” He stepped toward her, encroaching on her personal space. “Who the fuck knows anymore?”

“Iknow.” She stood tall, even though his proximity made her nervous. His uncharacteristic cursing, too. “You’re not that guy. You were always faithful to your wife. You never wanted to mess around—”

“Yeah, and look how that paid off.”

She placed the bottle down on the table and looked him in the eye. “Would you prefer if the divorce was your fault?”

“Oh, I know it’s not my fault.” He smiled, a fake, brutal curve of lips. “It’s yours.” There was no humor in his tone, no hint of amusement.

“What are you talking about?”

“Julie hates you. She hated how close we used to be and how every conversation revolved around my infallible band manager. Our friendship was the straw that broke that bitch’s back.”

A frozen knife sliced through her chest, slow and agonizing. “You’re blaming me?”

“Maybe.” He waved the seriousness away with a lazy hand. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over now.”

“It fucking matters.” She couldn’t tell if this was truthful catharsis or alcohol-fueled lies. Either way, the news was butchering her. She’d done everything within her power to keep her feelings to herself. She’d refused to make her adoration known and become the other woman. All those years of restraint and she was still getting the blame? “Tell me the truth.”

He shook his head and stepped closer. Too close.

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