Page 41 of Hostile Cravings
“Give me the damn phone, princess, or I’ll tie you up with that scarf?—”
“Mason,” I scolded, not wanting to hear anymore.
That stupid purple scarf that he carried in his pocket now drove me nuts. It was from the set Casey and I had split and I didn’t like the thought of them using my mother’s scarf in their sex games. I had a few of my own tucked in my closet, not sure what to do with them. When I’d caught Angie sleeping in my bed, she’d had the blue one clutched in her hands. It had pissed me off that she’d gone through my things, but seeing her like that had soothed the irritation.
“Fine. Go enjoy more of your wife.”
“I will,” I replied, thinking of all the ways I wanted to enjoy Angie today, a surprising few not sexual. “Hey, what is Casey doing there? I thought you were meeting with Tirenti still?”
“I brought her with me. She’s cleaning out her apartment. I’m going back to see Tirenti with Donelli later. They’re negotiating and I’m mediating. Now that Angie’s out of the picture, Tirenti wants more in trade from Donelli. I’m still suspicious that he’s thinking of turning.”
“Be careful and make sure you go well armed.”
“Got it. You keep that prize busy while I turn Joey’s attention to something else.”
He disconnected, and I sat in the stairwell for a few more minutes, thinking about Angie and how I felt about her. As much as she aggravated me, I’d fallen for her. I had fallen for her that first time I’d seen her years ago, but now I was lost to her. And as much as I hated to admit that a woman had claimed my heart and destroyed the guardrails I had in place around it, I couldn’t deny that Angie had done just that. She had elbowed her way into my heart, one foul-mouthed remark after another. And the hate that had sat between us had been nothing but a shield to my attraction to her. It had taken only a few days alone with her to realize it. Years of hiding from it, of denying how like a vine that overtakes afence, she had rooted herself into my consciousness, into my very being and I’d refused to recognize it.
Deciding I needed to get some fresh air before I returned to her, I went for a walk, using the back entrance to the resort to avoid the bustle of the front lobby. I needed to prepare myself mentally, knowing when I saw Angie next, I was going to dismantle those guardrails completely and tell her how I really felt.
Chapter Twelve
ANGIE
Tyson left the room, not heeding my complaints about changing. I didn’t know who he thought he was, telling me what to wear. But as angry as it made me, part of me liked it because that insistence that I cover myself more was revealing. He’d never cared before, only making snide comments about how easy I was. But now, his behavior was possessive, and it made my insides tumble around.
That sensation grew as I thought about how he’d taken me earlier, bringing my body to life like he did every time he touched me. Like no man ever had. And I knew no other man would because Tyson’s touch burned through me, marking me just like he’d said.
When I’d met his eyes, my heart had leaped so hard it thudded against my chest and I recognized the sensation. It was one I’d avoided for years, one I didn’t want because it hurt so much. But his eyes had shone with that same emotion, the hues in them sparkling before he turned from me. Love. The one emotion both of us ran from, seeking to numb our hearts with random sex and meaningless hook-ups. Men I’d taken to dull the strange ache that sat in my chest every time I saw him. It wasn’t often. His visitswere quick, but each time that ache grew like an annoyance I couldn’t shake, one I couldn’t understand.
I set my brush down, thinking of how this time had changed us, changed me. Intensifying what had been there and electrifying it. Love. I was in love with Tyson Raines and the thought of our fake marriage ending, of returning to Armina alone, without him, hurt so badly that I shoved the thought aside. I didn’t want this to end because I needed his touch now. Craved it so that I knew I couldn’t live without it. He’d ruined me for every other man.
My heart pounded as I threw open the door, needing to tell him, to hear him say those words back to me and to reassure me that I’d ruined him, too, and he wouldn’t let me go home. That he’d steal me from my life and keep me by his side, touching and loving me forever.
“Where did he go?” I asked Ben, the guard my father had sent with me. My mind was a cacophony of emotion that was about to erupt. Maybe I was being childish, but the need to tell him I loved him burned through me, driving me toward him.
“He took the stairs. What’s wrong, Angie?”
Ignoring him, I hobbled down the hall, cursing my damned ankle. I pushed the door to the stairs open, catching it before it slammed.Get a grip,I scolded myself, not wanting to look like a madwoman. I smoothed my hand down my jumper to calm the nerves that were suddenly pummeling me, hearing words from further down the stairs that stopped me in my track.
“She’s a bratty, spoiled bitch who drives me insane. Everything she does grates on my nerves and pretending like this is killing me, Mace. I don’t think I can take much more of it.”
My heart dropped and my hands shook as I backed out of the stairwell and quietly closed the door, standing there frozen. The words played over and over in my head. Pretending. That’s all he was doing? Pretending to want me. Playing with me, with my body, with my heart. A strange bubble built inside of my chest like a wave that needed to escape, and I opened my mouthas I backed further away, a sob coming from me. It was a sound I hadn’t heard since my mother died, because I hadn’t cried since that day. Nothing had ever brought me as much pain. Until now.
Devastated, I returned to the room, the warm tears burning my skin, unwelcome and unwanted, a show of weakness that I couldn’t stop. Doubling over, I dropped to the floor, hating that I’d been so vulnerable, that I’d fallen for his game, that I’d opened my heart when I’d kept it guarded for so long. Every small gesture, every tender moment played through my mind, arguing that this couldn’t be, that he couldn’t have played me. But he had. His words were confirmation.
Anger burned through me, and I embraced it, burying the hurt, the ache that was shredding me from the inside out. No one played me. I was Angela Donelli, not some foolish little girl. I stood, wiping the tears from my face, and limped to the bathroom. I started tossing my things into my bag until I caught sight of myself in the mirror. No one made me cry, and this man had done that.
“You’re a stupid fool, Angie. Hate him, despise him, but never love.” I grabbed my makeup and covered my freckles, then my birthmark, erasing the parts of me he’d lied to me about. When I’d finished, I threw the rest of my stuff in the bag and started packing my suitcases, letting my rage cover the ache that wouldn’t ease in my chest.
The door opened, Tyson’s cheerful voice entering before he did, “I had them use that fancy almond…” He stopped, but I didn’t look at him. It hurt too much. I’d wanted to be packed before he returned. “Angie?”
“I’m leaving. You don’t have to pretend anymore. I’ll deal with Joey.”
“Angie, what are you talking about?”
I ignored him, closing my case and zipping it. He grabbed me, turning me toward him. “What are you talking about?”
I jerked out of his grasp. “You’re an asshole, Tyson Raines. You didn’t have to do what you did. To use me that way.”
