Page 53 of Beautiful Revenge
Finding a woman between assignments was difficult. Finding one to stick around was damn near impossible. I’ve been with my fair share over the years, but finding someone I want to stick it out with?
Not even close.
Couple that with my winning personality—sarcastically speaking, of course—and I take the improbableto impossible.
All that to say, I’ve never been with a woman long enough to experience the silent treatment. And since I’m the farthest thing from beingwithHarlow Madison, it’s been an experience.
She stormed through the front door of the suite and shut herself in her bedroom. From what I’ve learned about her the last few days, she might be pissed enough to pretend I don’t exist, but she’s too polite to slam a door.
I’m not sure what a woman hopes to accomplish by the silent treatment, but I must be immune or have a stronger will than her.
I followed her all the way to the spa, told them to do whatever she asked, and sat my ass in a chair like the stalker I never thought I’d be. The desire to stay close to her when someone associated with Turner is anywhere near is overwhelming. And by near, I mean anywhere in the western half of the bloody red, white, and blue.
Could it be a coincidence?
I guess.
Chance is a bitch and should never be ruled out.
But with no hit on that credit card since before the event that ended my career and took the life of my friend, I call bullshit. It being swiped for the first time in this hemisphere could be a coincidence, but at my business?
No fucking way.
Pile that on top of the way Roman Malloy was looking at Harlow...
Happenstance or not, I’m not willing to overlook it. The woman can be irritated at me all day, every day for the rest of her time in my suite.
It’s no skin off my back. I live with darker marks on my soul.
I ignore the anxious feeling of needing to be closer to her and rap on the bedroom door. “Ready to go?”
The blaring TV goes silent, but she doesn’t answer.
I wait another moment before putting my knuckles to the wood again for another knock. “We have reservations in fifteen minutes, Harlow. We’ll be late.”
That does it. I hear stomping across the floor before she flips the lock and rips the antique door openso hard, I worry about the original hinges malfunctioning. She glares up at me, her face is as fresh as a sunny day from her time in the spa, even though her expression is straight from hell.
Damn. I really brought out the ire in her.
I take her in from head to toe and realize how much there is to appreciate. From a wedding dress to cutoff shorts, the longer I’m around this woman, the more she winds me up tighter than a steel coil.
“You have a thick skull,” she bites. “I told you earlier, and I’ll tell you again, I’m not having dinner with you.”
I step forward and lean a shoulder onto the door jamb so she can’t shut the damn thing in my face. “You have to eat, and so do I. We might as well take advantage of the weather and share a meal. We can’t do that with eighteen inches of snow on the ground—something you’ll have to get used to since you live here now.”
She narrows her eyes. “You know, despite how the media likes to portray me, I do not walk around dripping in diamonds with a gold spoon stuck in my mouth. I grew up in New York City. I can handle cold weather.”
I bite back a smirk. “I was just thinking about all your layers, but you sloshing through the snow in a jeweled crown was not one of them. I won’t even touch you sucking on a gold spoon. Thanks for that visual.”
She narrows her eyes and reaches for the door handle. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to watch a movie—which I have not done in months—do my best to pass out, and hope that you’ll be too busy to follow me around tomorrow.”
“Come on, Harlow,” I lower my voice. “I promise you won’t regret having dinner with me.”
“That’s a big promise, as I regret most of my choices for the last six months of my life.”
And that right there is what I want to know more of, but I don’t admit that aloud. “What do I need to do to convince you to have dinner with me?”
She huffs a laugh that’s nowhere near humorous. “There is no amount of bribery in the world that will make me leave this room.”
