Page 30 of Heart's Masquerade

Torrian ran the tip of his tongue over his lip and felt the bump there along with a cut. When he drew up to the street where they had found the car, he looked for an open parking spot. “Here okay?”

“Yup. Rhashon’s place is two doors down.”

He parked and got out, then jogged around to help her with her door. Once she’d locked the car, she turned to him. “Hang on a sec while I return the keys.”

He agreed, and when she came out of the apartment five minutes later, he let her snuggle to his side. Torrian walked in silence back toward her place. As he did, he came to a decision. At her door, he drew her close, kissed her, and then put her from him. “Jazara, I’m sorry. If you’d been hurt…”

“Don’t worry about it.” She held up small fists and took a fighting stance. “I had your back.”

He chuckled. “I think it’s pretty obvious Rhashon hasn’t been training you.”

“That’s so rude.” She burst out laughing and punched his arm. He grinned and rubbed the spot, but all humor dissipated. He couldn’t see her again. Nothing would stop Kenny’s feelings, and while he was strong enough to accept they would never have the relationship they once had, he refused to risk Jaz getting injured because of his dysfunctional family. The problem was he wanted her so very badly.

“Good night,” he muttered.

When he started to turn away, she held onto his arm. “Come inside.”

He made up an excuse. “I have to get into the office early.”

“Then leave early.”

Temptation kept him rooted to the spot when he should have pulled away. She released her hold and walked up the steps to her door. The jam of her key into he lock said she was pissed.

“Whatever. Nobody’s begging you.”

“Jaz.”

She opened the door, stepped inside, and seemed about to slam it but stopped. “Good night, Torrian. I had a great time. Thanks.” The door clicked softly closed. Torrian stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and walked down the street.

Chapter Eight

Torrian sat on the end of the bench and straightened his arm while gripping the dumbbell. He’d done two sets already and prepared to do a third. His biceps burned, and sweat beaded his skin, but he refused to stop until he had completed his routine. Normally, he didn’t use the company’s fitness facilities but left it to his employees. However, today, he had to find a way to relieve stress before he bit off another person’s head. Over the last two weeks, those who could avoid him did so. Those who couldn’t braced for the impact of his anger.

Sure, he had spent very little time with Jaz, but what he had spent with her he had enjoyed. She filled a hole in his otherwise mundane and lonely existence. She had made him laugh, and her huge heart shocked and inspired him. He wanted to see her and touch her, but he couldn’t. Therefore, everyone else grated on his nerves.

“Yo!” One of his managers, Marcos, the one he least favored, entered the room. A big, burly type who seemed to live in the gym and thought every person man or woman focused on him, Marcos got the job done, but right now, Torrian couldn’t stomach the nonstop conversation.

“I need to concentrate on this, Marcos.”

Marcos chuckled as if he’d made a joke. “I’ll join you. How did you like the attitude of that ad exec this morning? Into himself, wasn’t he?”

Look who’s talking.

“I didn’t know if I would need to set him straight before the end of the meeting or not.” Marcos went on even as Torrian counted out his reps to himself. “I guess I’ll give him a call and drop a few pointers in his ear on how to approach you.”

“Eleven, twelve…” Torrian raised his voice a little. Marcos prattled on, relentless.

The face of Torrian’s cell phone lit up, and he recognized the ding of a text, but he didn’t stop to check. Marcos switched from criticizing the ad executive to discussing the next quarter’s projections. Torrian had already spent the better part of three days in meetings with his team going over those numbers. He had no wish to revisit it all now.

“So I think—”

“Shut the hell up, Marcos!”

The other man’s teeth snapped together. His eyes widened, and he blinked at Torrian in silence. At first Torrian thought he’d gone too far, but then a slow smile appeared on Marcos’s face. Torrian’s hope for peace died a quick death. He thumped the dumbbell on the floor and stretched. Maybe he should just leave and go home. He’d tell them all he wasn’t to be disturbed except for an emergency. Of course, he knew from experience most of the people who worked for him considered everything an emergency. Sometimes he felt the secretaries, the mail staff, all those who held the lower-level positions, were the only ones with sense.

?

??Whoa, ho, what’s this?” Marcos quipped. Apparently, his spirit hadn’t been squashed. Torrian glanced across at him and found Marcos holding his own cell phone.

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