Page 34 of My Playboy Neighbor

Chapter Eight

Dom

The whiskey burned going down, but it did nothing to dull the ache in Dom's chest.Two days since Maya had walked out of his life, taking her cameras and her accusations and her damned documentation with her.Two days of trying to convince himself he'd made the right choice, that protecting his privacy was more important than whatever he'd felt for her.

Two days of feeling like he was slowly suffocating.

Dom stared out at the Connecticut forest from his balcony, the empty whiskey tumbler forgotten in his hand.The autumn leaves were beginning to turn, painting the landscape in shades of gold and crimson that reminded him of the light in Maya's hair when she'd leaned over her camera, lost in her art.

His phone buzzed with another call from Jake, the fourth today.Dom let it go to voicemail like the others.He knew what his agent would tell him—that the campaign with Maya was his last shot at redemption, that he needed to salvage whatever he could from the professional relationship.

What Jake didn't understand was that Dom had destroyed far more than a business arrangement when he'd accused Maya of exploitation and thrown her out of his suite.

A soft knock interrupted his brooding.His heart leaped before he could stop it, hope flooding through him that Maya had come back, that she was willing to fight for whatever they'd shared.

Instead, he opened the door to find Katarina, the brunette he'd turned away the night Maya had first come to him.She was wearing a red dress that left little to the imagination, her smile confident and alluring.

"Dominic," she purred, stepping closer."I thought you might be lonely."

"I'm fine," he said curtly.

"Are you?"Katarina's hand trailed down his chest, her touch practiced and confident."You look like a man who needs distraction."

Three weeks ago, he would have pulled her inside without hesitation.Sexy, willing, uncomplicated—exactly what he'd always preferred.No messy emotions, no expectations beyond physical satisfaction, no risk of vulnerability or attachment.

Now the thought left him cold.

"I appreciate the offer," he said, catching her hand before it wandered lower."But no."

Katarina's eyebrows rose in surprise."Still hung up on the photographer?Dom, darling, she was nobody.A professional assignment that got a little personal.Nothing more."

"She wasn't nobody," Dom said, surprising himself with the vehemence in his voice.

"No?Then where is she?"Katarina's smile turned cruel."If she meant something to you, why did you let her leave?"

Dom stared at her, the question hitting closer to home than he wanted to admit.Why had he let Maya leave?Why had he chosen to believe the worst about her motivations instead of trusting what he'd seen in her eyes every time she looked at him?

"Goodnight, Katarina," Dom said..

But the woman's words echoed in his head as Dom returned to his balcony and his whiskey.If Maya had meant something to him—and God help him, she had—then why had he reacted with such brutal suspicion when he'd discovered her photos?

He knew the answer, even if he didn't want to face it.Because caring about Maya, admitting that what they'd shared was real, would make him vulnerable in a way he'd spent years avoiding.It was easier to believe she was using him than to confront the possibility that someone might actually see past his reputation to the man underneath.

The man who was broken and damaged and terrified of needing anyone.

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