Page 77 of Savage Temptation

“I really don’t understand where this is coming from, and I don’t appreciate those stereotyped conclusions you’re jumping to. If you have any questions, just ask me. Don’t assume anything about stuff you know nothing about.”

We avoided each other for the rest of the flight, Jamie keeping to the book she was reading on her phone while I got some work done and out of the way.

I tried hard not to flaunt our lifestyle in front of her, toning everything down for her sake. Still, she thought I was flashing cash in front of her to try and buy her affection. She got it all wrong. Her assumptions hit a spot in my chest, drilling a hole that bled all my caution and thoughtfulness.

Fuck it!

No need to be taking unnecessary risks if it’s not having the desired effect.

As soon as we got to LA, I canceled the plane tickets back to New York and asked Alison to send the jet and make it available until Wednesday, even though I was foreseeing that this trip would be as long as it necessarily had to be and not a second longer.

One of Don Massimo’s men was in the limo that awaited our arrival as planned, and I made sure Jamie saw the whole exchange. If she wanted me, she had to accept the whole package. The good, the bad, and everything in between.

We still haven’t spoken a word since our little fight, and with every minute that passed, I got angrier at what she tried to imply. The limo ride was filled with awkward silences and avoidance, grating on my nerves even further.

I had done everything I could to accommodate her, make her feel comfortable around me. How had that evolved into her thinking that I was trying to buy her affection?

“I’m sorry, but the limo was already booked, too.” I spat, my voice dripping in acidic sarcasm. “I booked us rooms in the Waldorf. If you think that’s too much, feel free to stay wherever you please. The gala is at the Ritz at seven. I guess I’ll see you there.”

I was bitter as fuck. I’d give her the fucking world if she asked, but implying that I needed to buy her affection hurt like a motherfucker.

Still, I bit my tongue and tried offering a white flag, “I’ll happily escort you if you don’t think that would be treating you like my other lady friends. I’ll be leaving at a quarter to seven and not a minute later.”

I got out of the car, not waiting for her, darting straight to the reception where the key card to my room was already waiting for me. I dared one last glance towards her just as the elevator doors closed, her face a mask of regret.

Jamie Harden was my damn demise. She messed with me in ways no other person could. Her words stung because they came from her. How could she think so little of me? Was I not enough? Did my value only lie in the wealth and status my family was known for?

Fuck that!

I went straight to the bathroom when I got to my suite. Splashing some water on my face could maybe help clear away the frustration. I looked up, taking a glance at my reflection as water ran down my face, but instead, in its place, all I saw was blood. Blood of an innocent girl who had died in my arms not so long ago.

I closed my eyes, trying to clear my vision, and in the darkness, I saw Jamie in my arms, my hands drenched in her blood as I tried to kiss her back to life.

Agony spread through me like wildfire, my eyes flying wide open in an attempt to erase that fucking vision. Again I was met with my reflection in the mirror. I punched it again and again, my fist colliding with the glass with bone-crushing force, shattering the damn thing into pieces.

Who was I kidding? I didn’t deserve happiness. I didn’t deserve Jamie.

My hands gripped the vanity as I tried to calm my ragged breathing, a red flow of blood staining the white marble.

How could such an angel care for a monster like me? My darkness would drown her light until it was nothing but a dim memory of who she used to be.

I didn’t want that for her.

I got myself cleaned up, wrapping my hand in gauze from the first aid kit before getting dressed and heading down to the bar. I’d wait for her, as I had told her, and break whatever we had, or didn’t have, off.

“Bourbon,” I grunted to the bartender, handing him my key so he could charge it to my room. “Tell reception to add a broken mirror on it, too.”

“Rough day?” A woman in a red, low-cut dress asked from beside me, motioning to my hand after hearing my words. It was the blonde flight attendant from earlier.

“Rough life.” I simply replied before tipping the entire drink down my throat in one go, motioning for a refill.

“How can such a handsome man not have all his needs catered for?” Her hand brushed over mine, a featherlight touch trailing the bandage. My eyes followed her movement for a second, thinking how damn easy it would be to take her to my room and fuck her. The invitation was clear, but I wasn’t interested in the slightest. She pushed further after a lack of a reply, “I’ll have whatever you’re having if you order for me.”

“I’m sorry, but I’ll be leaving in a couple of minutes.”

“I’m free later tonight. We could meet here. I’ll hold you to that… drink then.” She insisted, shifting forward so I could have a clear view down her cleavage.

“I’ve got company already. But thank you.”

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