Page 11 of Wretched Heart
Her words are like a cold fist around my heart. This woman’s been hurt, and there’s a part of me that wants to order up another bottle of whiskey so she can tell me what happened to make her so jaded. Maybe I’d tell her my story too.
But she’s right. I was looking to take, and far more than I’d intended when I burst into the chapel earlier.
I straighten up and walk to the dresser so Maddie can’t see the erection that continues to strain against my zipper. I set down my business card. “We’ll talk tomorrow, but if you need anything in the meantime, my number’s on the card,” I say. “Call room service and order whatever you like. I’ll be back around ten in the morning.”
Maddie closes her eyes, dismissing me before I’ve even left the room. “Fine.”
“Oh, and Maddie,” I say, hardening my tone so she flashes those deep blue eyes at me one last time. “There’ll be someone watching the door. Don’t try to leave.”
Her laugh is more like a last gasp of air from someone who’s drowning. “You seem to think I have somewhere to go.”
It takes a concerted effort to leave her. I’ll only make a fool of myself if try again to convince her that I’m not a bad person. I might do bad things, but it’s only ever to protect my own. My gut tells me I’d do the same for this woman. And my gut is never wrong.
Chapter 4
Maddison
Isit on the edge of the bed and stare at the door long after Hunter leaves. What the hell is wrong with me? Why do I feel safer with this man than I do with my own family, and certainly with my fiancé? Ex-fiancé, I correct.
Buy and destroy. That’s what Barrett had said. Which could only mean he expected his new wife and brother-in-law to hand him full control of the paper mill. What had Hugo been thinking when he arranged the match? And what would my brother do next?
Knowing Hugo’s penchant for taking a problem and turning it into a disaster, it’s going to be infinitely worse than the devious dealings Hunter had averted. That thought is almost enough to break my resolve not to cry. If it’s left to Hugo, we don’t stand a chance of saving the mill.
I want to flop back onto the mattress, but if I do that, I’ll only replay Hunter pinning me there. The man can claim his intentions were honorable, but I’d glimpsed the effect I had on him when he sat astride me and told me I was a good girl. Parts of my body had responded just as inappropriately,but I can’t let lust cloud my judgement. Or can I? Of all the men who want to ruin me, he’s the one I’d consider letting.
I’m in deep trouble.
Kicking off my shoes, I shuffle over to the dresser and examine the business card he left. The man who simultaneously saved me and plunged me into crisis has a last name. Hunter Griffin of Griffin Corps is in charge of ‘Finance and Acquisitions’. Am I an acquisition now?
Other than a cell number and an email address, there’s no other information. I wrack my brain, wondering if I’ve ever heard of Griffin Corps, but I come up blank. I have no idea what they do, and the logo gives nothing away. It’s some mythological creature. Ah, of course. A griffin. I can’t recall if they’re meant to be good or evil. I’ll have to google it when I get my phone back.
I wish I could call someone, but all the numbers I know from memory are people linked to Hugo, and I’m not ready to face my brother yet. I have a night to myself and I might as well enjoy it. I pick up the hotel phone and dial room service. Now that I have the option of taking off my wedding dress, I can eat and drink what I want. And since Hunter is footing the bill, and pissing him off is my only source of entertainment right now, I order more food than I could possibly eat. I also add four bottles of the hotel’s most expensive champagne to my order, one of which I ask to be passed on to Melissa as a tip.
I want to take off my dress, but I have to wait for room service to arrive because I don’t have anything to change into. Pacing the room, I catch my reflection in the full-length mirror. My wedding dress is truly awful. And what was I thinking with all these curls? I’d wanted some volume to compete with the explosion of silk on my bottom half, but the person looking back at me isn’t the woman I thought Iwas. I’m not sure who Maddie Corbyn is anymore. I don’t think I’ve ever known.
As I rip off my tiara, I pull strands of hair from my scalp along with it. I continue to wince in pain as I take out the bobby pins until my up-do collapses. I rake my fingers through my hair to tame it, or at least I try. The stylist has used so much hairspray that my fingers snag and I pull out more strands of hair. With a frustrated cry, I give up. I don’t look in the mirror again.
There’s a knock at the door, and I open it to find two men staring at me. One has a trolley and is clearly waiting staff, and the other is a now familiar face.
“You were at my wedding,” I say to him as the waiter brings my food into the room.
The tall man in the dark suit simply nods. He looks to be about my age, mid-twenties at most, and I’m only slightly relieved that his green eyes don’t have the intensity of Hunter’s, or the guy who planted a tracker on me.
“I’m Maddie,” I tell him, then raise an eyebrow in expectation.
He adjusts his tie and clears his throat. “Reid.”
“My, you’re talkative. Are you here to stand guard?”
When he simply nods, I turn to the waiter who’s pushed the trolley into the center of the room.
“Would you like me to open the champagne, madam?” he asks, lifting the bottle from the cooler.
“Ooh, yes, please,” I say and a moment later, the cork pops. Turning to Reid, I ask, “Would you like a glass?”
From the way he pulls a face, I can tell he means yes when he says, “No, thanks.”
“We’ll have two glasses,” I tell the waiter. To Reid, I add. “For some reason, I missed out on all the wedding toasts today. The least you can do is toast my good health.Oh, and would you mind tipping our friend? I don’t have any cash.”
