Page 62 of Some Like It Scandalous
She growled—actually growled—and grabbed a pillow from the sofa and struck him. It bounced off his shoulder and fluffed his hair. But the second swipe caught his cheek and he actually fell back a step.
“Are. You. Out. Of. Your. Mind?” She punctuated every word with a blow of the pillow. He grabbed for it and wrestled it out of her hands, but she raced away to grab another one and threw it at him.
He ducked and chased after her, surprised as hell that after the night he’d had, he could smile. “Anna—stop.”
She picked up a lamp and hurled it. It went wide and smashed against the wall and took his smile with it. He barely managed to dodge the next set of missiles. A picture frame followed, then a vase. When she grabbed a marble egg he held up both hands. “Anna, darling—” Good God, she was fierce and beautiful.
The front door opened and Armand caught sight of Kyle filling the entryway. Anna looked at him. “Out. We are having a private discussion. I promise I’m not going to kill him.”
Kyle flicked a look from Armand to Anna and back again. “I’ll be outside.”
And he closed the door.
“You’re upset,” Armand began in a placating tone, he needed to calm her down.
“Am I really? Why would that be?” She passed the marble egg back and forth between her right and left hands. “Could it be the women you decided to parade at the party? Or maybe it was the shedding of your security so you could be a target? Or better yet, it was the not calling me yourself to tell me you were okay and spending the rest of your evening dancing like some gigolo?” Her voice cracked at the end and she slammed the egg down on the table.
The plan had been to push her away, but he couldn’t handle her hurt or her loss. He blew out a breath. Time. If he bought them some time, they could make it work. “Sweetheart.”
“Oh no, you can go back to Miss Novak right now. I’m pretty pissed at you.” She folded her arms. “Your Hind Ass.”
He blinked slowly. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me, it’s slightly more polite than jackass, but since we were all playing parts tonight, I’ll give you—” she made a show of looking at her wrist, a wrist that still bore the sapphire and diamond bracelet he’d left her, “—five minutes to try and spin this your way.”
Gaping at her, he tried to pull together the train of thought he rode into this mess on. Her eyes sparkled, her cheeks flushed and her hair in wild disarray—as though she’d run her fingers through it a hundred times. “You’re beautiful.”
“Oh no, you do not get off that easily. Compliments will get you nowhere.” He started forward and she backed away, circling the sofa to elude him. “You owe me an explanation, mister.”
She was amazing, like the furies of old come to avenge her own honor, she railed at him. “You really are very beautiful, I’m only sorry I didn’t get to tell you sooner.”
“Charlie, focus on the problem at hand. We’re not talking fashion,” she snapped, that volatile little growl in her voice, and he couldn’t help but grin.
“I don’t recall you having this much of a temper before.” This dark, passionate side fascinated him.
“I don’t recall you ever giving me this much grief before either. What were you thinking? Risking yourself like that? Why?”
“Sweetheart, it was safe. My men knew exactly what I was doing.” He continued around the sofa. “I told them about it—we needed the focus on me and the only way to do that was to take the focus off you.” He caught her arms and pulled her close. “I’m sorry it scared you.”
She was stiff in his arms. “You were stupid and foolish and?—”
He kissed her, hard and slow. She fisted her hands against his shirt, then her mouth softened and opened to him. He was a drowning man gasping for air. How the hell was he ever going to let her go?
Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against hers. “I am a jackass, but I’m a jackass who loves you. The next few months—they’re going to be hard, but if everything calms down then we can—” even the idea of leaving her for so short a time sank the knife in a little deeper, “—we can start to see each other again.”
Drawing back, she stared up at him. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Did you mean what you said earlier? About trust…being a leap of faith?”
“Yes and don’t change the subject. What do you mean in a few months we can start seeing each other again?” Her eyes narrowed and her fingers dug into his shirt.
“It’s—it’s not safe right now. For you. It may never be safe. It’s a lot of politics and misdirection, but they are targeting you because of me. If you go back to your life and I to mine, we can give it all time to quiet down. And then?—”
“Oh. Hell. No.” She slapped his chest and he grimaced at the sting. “You are not making choices for me. Not anymore. You took away my choice when you didn’t tell me the truth and I took away yours when I walked out all those years ago. But I’m not leaving—throw me out if you want to—but I am not going. Not this time.”
A laugh worked its way up and he shook his head. “This is ridiculous.”
“I’m glad we agree.” Sharpness punctuated her tone.
