Page 33 of Irresistible Rogue

But as Mom smiled back at me, a niggling little seed of guilt took root.

Because what if he really did try to ruin the wedding, and it was all because ofme?

ChapterFive

Shane

Istumbled across my apartment, wondering what time it was and tripping on an inflated fuck doll—male—someone left on my floor. “Fuck.” The doorbell was jangling like whoever was ringing it was taking a nap on it. I unlocked the industrial door, which opened directly into the elevator, and hauled it open. “What.”

The ringing stopped and I rubbed my eyes with the heel of my hand, trying to wake up.

Jolie Fucking Vola was at my door.

I blinked, hoping I’d hallucinated her. No such luck. She stood in my elevator staring at me with a sour, snotty little face.

“What the fuck doyouwant.”

Her eyes raked over me briefly before she looked away. “You are a class act, Shane Madrigal.” Other than last night’s underwear, which I’d just pulled on, I was naked and it seemed to be offending her.

Well, this was my fucking home. She was lucky I was wearing anything. “Who let you up here?”

“The guy at the door.”

“You mean, security? The guy I pay to keep losers out?” My eyes scraped over her T-shirt and cutoffs. “What the hell did you do to make that happen?”

She drew back, like I’d just accused her of sucking him off. “Uh, I asked nicely!” She hesitated. “And… I told him you were expecting me.”

“So, you lied.”

She shifted uncomfortably. “I told him we’re…family.” She shuddered the word like it debased her to utter it. “I figured you wouldn’t let me up. And I needed to talk to you.”

That last sentence seemed to almost make her vomit.

But that one word…needed… kinda piqued my curiosity.

So I decided not to slam the door in her face. For now. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon. Were you sleeping?”

“Fuck, yes.” I scratched my balls.

“Put some clothes on,” she said irritably.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because we’re having a conversation.”

“Are we?”

I turned and wandered back toward the bed area, yawning.

“Uh, may I come in?” she said from the elevator, like she was the fucking crown princess and I’d dared to not roll out a red carpet and grovel.

“I don’t give a fuck what you do. But I am changing, so.” I dropped my underwear and heard her spluttery response. After I’d dug some fresh ones out of a drawer and slid them on, I glanced over my shoulder. She was still standing in the elevator, and she was covering her eyes.

I wandered into the closet and yanked on some sweats, then wandered back out, stretching. She was still covering her eyes.

“Are you dressed yet?!”

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