Page 101 of Torrid Passion
“You seem to be doing that a lot,” I offer in response.
“Doing what?”
“Escaping.”
“I haven’t been here since they renovated—”
“And you were taking a scenic tour?”
“Exactly,” she hesitates.
“Convenient,” I sneer. “Just as convenient as you sneaking out on me and leaving for New York without so much as a goodbye or a note.”
“I had a flight to catch.”
My eyebrows hit my forehead. “That’s it?”
“I—”
“Careful. We’re in the way,” I say, pulling her to the side to let a group of guests pass.
“You can let go now,” she says when the crowd passes us.
I hold her fiery gaze for a long beat, watching the tense line of her jaw, itching to reach out and stroke the side of her face. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” she says, irritation tight between her brows.
“Okay.” I let go. I’m not going to fight her. There are bigger fish to fry. “Can we talk?”
She sighs, her eyes not quite meeting mine. “What for?”
Are you kidding me right now?
“Was it that bad?”
Her head jerks back as if I had shouted the question at her.
She averts her gaze.
“Was it?” I press.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Loki.”
“Then what’s up with the disappearing act?”
“I’m sure Miss America is looking for you.” Her dark eyes are like missiles, but I hear the slight tremble in her voice.
“You’re jealous, gorgeous?”
“I don’t care who you see—or fuck.”
The flash of hurt in her eyes betrays her nonchalance.
“For someone who doesn’t care, you seem pretty worked up about it.”
“You want to be with a beauty queen? Knock yourself out, buddy!” Sarcasm cuts through her words, quick and sharp. “It’s not like you’re my boyfriend—”
“You’re right, I’m just your fake boyfriend… when it’s convenient foryou.”
