Page 158 of The Billionaire's Secret
I pause outside the entrance to the ballroom of the Claridge's—the same one where, only a few weeks ago, I’d wed Saint. Wed him? Ha, that has to be a euphemism for… The most mind-blowing sex ever… Okay, so I don’t have experience to compare it to; but hell, if that matters.
I've seen enough porn online, heard enough from friends in university, swapped enough secret fantasies with Nina to know... What I had with Saint was exceptional.
I shudder, nervously toy with the ring he gave me. The emerald warms against my skin.Stay strong, you can do this Victoria. You only have the next few hours to get through... Andthen what?
Escape? Get out of here, away from the Mafia… At what cost? You’ll give up the man who’d professes to love you? He may as well hate me. That’s what his tone had implied. No, Saint doesn’t understand the meaning of the word love. He is obsessed…fixated, maybe… Sure, he finds me attractive, but he’ll forget me. He’ll move on quickly. To another hotel suite, another lay, another woman to take and conquer. My heart stutters. He’ll forget about me soon enough…and I… I will be free.
Still tethered to the thought of him—his touch, his feel, the crude way he’d taken me earlier, how he’d torn off my gown, not caring for the fact that it was new and expensive. It shouldn’t matter to me. That flaunting of his wealth had been a crude gesture… One meant to put me in my place. And I had found it hot. I had been instantly wet and throbbing and aching for him. My nipples tighten against the short black sheath. I run my hands down the fabric that clings to my thighs.
This isn’t one of Saint’s purchases. It had been in the bag I’d packed before leaving Amelie’s. No way, am I wearing anything else bought by him. Not after how he'd reacted to my wearing the previous one. What the hell had come over him? He'd been like a man possessed. He'd fucked me, then not allowed me to climax. Just like he'd refused to tell me who that woman is. There has to be a simple explanation to it... So why won't he reveal it? How can it be for my safety when it is tearing me apart from inside?
And all that, after he’d professed his love.Hell!I clutch my hands around the simple silver purse that dangles from my hand.
Why did he have to go and do that?
Almost as if he’d known that it was his last chance to tell me his true feelings. And he’d meant it. I squeeze my eyes shut.Deny it as much as you want…but there had been a hint of desperation in his tone, a dangerous glint in his eyes.And the way he’d fucked me...as if it was our last time.
He is no fool… He knows something is going to happen… So he’d played his last card. He’d…hit me where it hurts—hoping it would hold me back from what I have to do.
If he thinks his declaration is going to stop me… Well, he has misjudged me. He isn’t the only one who plays with people’s feelings, who can set their eyes on a goal and use anything and everything...and anyone, to get to it.
Sweat beads my palm; I wipe it on the silky fabric of my dress. My knees knock together and my throat dries.
"Victoria, honey, are you okay?"
Amelie grips my shoulder.
"Why don’t you sit down?" She leads me to an armchair pushed up into an alcove of the hallway a few feet away.
I sink into it. She keeps her hand on mine, and takes the seat next to me.
I draw in a breath, then another.
She grabs a bottle of water from the antique table in front of us, unscrews the cap, and hands it to me. I take a grateful sip.
"Better?"
I nod, then lower the bottle. "Is my make-up okay?"
She surveys my face, "You’re always perfect, V."
I shake my head. If she only knew.
I reach over, place the bottle on the table.
She squeezes my hand, "Now, tell me why you were having that panic attack."
"I wasn’t."
She stares at me. "Is this to do with Saint?"
A giggle bubbles up, "What in my life isn’t to do with him right now?"
"It’s normal for newly-weds to feel overwhelmed."
Not like this, it’s not. I squeeze my fingers together around the bag in my lap.
"When are you guys going on your honeymoon?"
