Page 143 of Meet Me In The Dark
His hand slides across the table, reaching to touch mine.
I lean back, realization settling like ice water in my veins, but I leave my hand under his because this will be the last time this man gets to touch me.
I hope he enjoys it.
“Tom,” I say quietly, holding his gaze. “You knew your team wasn’t coming tonight. You knew before we even sat down that I’d already made my decision. I’ve given you my answer, yet here we are. Tell me, what exactly were you hoping would happen by dessert?”
His eyes gleam in a way that makes my stomach churn. “Celeste, you’re a beautiful woman. Intelligent, talented. Surely you’ve been to dinners like this before.” His gaze drops to my mouth and lingers there. “You know how the game works.”
Every muscle in my body locks tight. “Excuse me?”
He laughs loud enough to attract glances from neighboring tables. Curious stares are cast our waybefore quickly returning to their conversations.
Attention secured, Kingsley leans forward, his voice lowering to a calculated sneer. “You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”
Shock jolts through my system, followed quickly by a cold, furious clarity.
“Blackwood. You’re sleeping with him.”
The sheer audacity steals my breath for half a heartbeat before anger slices through.
“My professional decisions have nothing to do with who I choose to fuck, Tom,” I say evenly, my voice dangerously calm. “Though clearly, you can’t separate the two.”
“Watch your tone, Celeste. I meant no offense.”
I lean forward, holding his stare without flinching. “Oh, I’m watching my tone very carefully, because it’s the only thing standing between you and a very public humiliation.”
His smile vanishes.
“You invited me here under false pretenses, clearly ignoring the multiple times I professionally declined your offer. You claim you admire my talent, yet you’re here assuming I’d reconsider for what? Because you complimented my appearance? Because you assumed I’d jump at the chance to attach myself to your rapidly fading reputation?”
His nostrils flare, but I don’t allow him the dignity of a response yet.
“You insulted my integrity and professionalism, and when that didn’t work, you resorted to throwing accusations about my personal life,” I continue. “Frankly, Tom, go fuck yourself.”
His face turns a furious red. “You’re going to regret this.”
“My only regret is not recognizing sooner that beneath your sleazy smile, you’re just another insecure little boy who doesn’t know how to hear the word no.”
I rise from the booth, but not before he can grab my hand again in a bruising grip.
“Get your hands off me.” My pulse thrums erratically beneath his touch.
“Apologies, Celeste. The wine is going to my head. Please sit. We can talk.”
“Remove your hands.”
“I’d listen to her, Kingsley. She has a hell of a right hook.” A voice—familiar, rough, and more angry than I’ve ever heard it—cuts through.
Julian’s gaze falls to where Kingsley is touching me, and every muscle in his body goes taut with tension. “Take your fucking hands off her, or you’ll be shitting your fingers for a week.”
Kingsley’s eyes widen before he yanks his hand away. “Julian. Good to see you. We were just discussing business.”
“Were you?” Julian raises a brow, slipping his hands into his pockets, which somehow makes him even more lethal. “Didn’t realize touching was part of your business model.”
“I was simply making a point.”
I see it the moment it happens.
