Page 71 of Unforgiving Queen
His lips curved up slightly before they flattened into a stern line. I didn’t like the way it set the butterflies fluttering in my stomach free.
“On your way to celebrate?” he countered, glancing at my thigh-high pink boots and pink fitted long-sleeved minidress. It was a perk of hosting fashion shows; there were plenty of clothes at my disposal.
I looked up to see his gaze trail from my heels to the sliver of exposed skin at my thigh. When it finally met mine, darkness sparkled in his eyes.
I let out a sharp, angry huff. “On my way to get as far from you and your brother as possible.”
Taking another step away from him, I went to leave when he grabbed my wrist. “Reina—”
My heart twisted in my chest, stealing my breath. I hated the effect he had on me, the way it felt like I’d been punched in the stomach, but most of all, I hated this longing. I was still attracted to him, despite the shit he’d done. Despite the answers I didn’t have.
Why? What happened to make him change his mind about us?
I wanted to ask him aboutthatsummer. But how could I bring it up without looking like some pathetic woman who couldn’t move on?
So I stared at him, waiting for him to say something, while he looked at the car beside us like it was the most interesting hunk of metal in the world.
“Will you at least look at me?”
Slipping his hands in his pockets, his gaze found mine. Heavy. Dark. Bottomless.But deep in those dark depths, there was a fire that burned. I could almost feel the heat of it licking my skin. Or maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on me, remembering his touch.
I could hardly breathe around the memories swarming me.
His grip tightened around my wrist. “You look beautiful. So fucking beautiful that it hurts to look at you.”
I blinked, surprise washing over me. I couldn’t do this again.Wouldn’tdo this again. He’d stepped on my heart, smashed it to pieces.
A bitter laugh tore from my throat. He stood there, less than a foot away in his three-piece suit, looking like a man who promised even more heartache.
I’d suspected I would see him again; we always seemed to find each other. I’d prepared for it, even practiced what I would say. Yet being so close to him today was too much. It was too overwhelming. My chest tightened as images of us from three years ago flashed through my mind—from our encounter in the garage to the night I went to see him to tell him I was pregnant. When he’d kissed another woman in front of me.
I sobered. It was all the reminder I needed. I pushed the feelings I had for him deep into a dark corner where I hoped they would disappear.
“What do you want, Amon?” Despite the pain and bitterness, my tone was cold. Flat. I should be proud of myself, but I wasn’t. I hated this version of myself. “Haven’t you done enough?”
Darkness consumed us, snuffing out what was left of my light. I hadn’t felt truly alive since the last time he kissed me.
A cool breeze rushed through the street, sweeping me back into the present. Sometimes it was too much work to keep it in the past.
“I’d rather not see you,” I said flatly, “for the rest of my years on this earth.”
I yanked my wrist out of his grip and wrapped my arms around myself for warmth. My dress wasn’t thick enough for this October night.
He slid his blazer off his broad shoulders and hooked it over mine. I shrugged, signaling I didn’t want it, but the brief contact seared my skin.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” I spat out. “For trying to ruin my night even more? It’s easily remedied. Get out of my way.”
I went to sidestep him but he blocked my way.
“I’m sorry I hurt you.” Regret and something else flickered in his gaze.
“Hurt me?” I repeated.
I wanted toscream. I wanted to claw his heart out. Make him feel this horrible, dark hole he left behind.
“You’re three years too late.” My breath came out steady despite the pain pulsing in my chest. “Goodbye, Amon.”
