Page 5 of Release Me
One of the few friends I’ve made since I moved to this country.
And the only man I think about when I close my eyes.
He’s leaning against the bar like he owns it. He might do, for all I know. He owns a string of them—including a gentlemen’s club—which I’m more curious about than I have any right to be. Does he avail of the private dances it’s so famous for?
Does he fuck the women who work for him?
And why does that thought set an irrational surge of jealousy searing through my soul?
His blazing black eyes find mine through the crowd as if he senses my arrival like an animal scenting his mate.
My stomach flips.
He’s as devastatingly handsome as always in an impeccably tailored tux that sculpts his broad shoulders andemphasises the curves of his biceps. His glossy, ink-coloured hair gleams beneath the spotlights. Not for the first time, I wonder what it would be like to rake my fingers through as I writhe beneath him.
And just like the first night in the De Courcy library, he sets my heart pounding in an erratic rhythm that it has no right to feel.
Chapter Two
RIAN
It’s been three years, two weeks and two days since Rebekka Remington rocked the world as I knew it. Two years, ten months and two weeks since I stood beside my best friend at the altar and watched him marry the woman I wanted. And I’ve watched him do his utmost to chip away at her spirit and her resolve in that time—while I bleed silently beside her, dying a little more each time he does.
She’s made a huge success of Remington Publishing Ireland. Anthony should be proud. Yet instead, bitterness radiates from him. I can’t work my friend out. Surely, her success equals his success? What does he actually want? Her to fail?
Rebekka is as magnetising tonight as she was three years ago, more so even. Probably because over the past three years, I learnt she’s sassy as well as sexy, articulate and intelligent, and on the rare occasions she laughs—really laughs—it makes my soul soar.
Our eyes lock as she enters the room. My stomach spins like a carousel. Every hair on my neck pricks to attention,every nerve in my body vibrates with awareness of her presence. Every fibre of my being begs me to cross the room, pull her into my chest, and keep her there forever.
But I can’t, because she’s my best friend’s wife.
The best friend who is currently shmoozing some potential investors instead of standing by her side, supporting her, on what is probably one of the biggest nights of her career.
Chemistry pulses in the air between us. She feels it. I know she does. Because every fleeting touch over the past three years has sent us jolting guiltily apart.
The dinners where we’ve brushed hands over the table.
The times I’ve kissed her cheek in what should be a simple greeting, but somehow sets my skin on fire.
It would be odd if I dropped out of Anthony’s life, even though being in it is killing me.
There’s no way to avoid her.
Not when Anthony and I see each other most weeks. Golf. Drinks. Networking.
And deep down, there’s a sick part of me thatneedsto see her—a part that almost enjoys tormenting myself. I plaster on a smile. Crack a joke. Drink too much whiskey. Lose myself in other women—lots of other women. But every time I close my eyes, it’s her face I see.
Why do I have to be obsessed with the one woman I can never have?
I don’t have to be here tonight. But when the invitation arrived through from my PA, Amy, there was no way I was going to turn down an opportunity to see Rebekka. To be here for her on her big night.
I offer her a small smile, and she raises a hand in silent greeting before turning her attention to the Minister of Culture. She leans closer to him and says something I can’t make out over the music. He throws his head back and laughsout loud. Rebekka has that effect on people. She’s warm, even though her husband is so cold to her.
Speak of the devil, and he appears.
‘Rian.’ Anthony rests his elbow on the bar beside me, turning his back to his wife. I drag my eyes away from her to look at him. Does he have any idea how fucking lucky he is? Probably not. ‘Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.’
‘Ah, you know me. I’m not one to turn down the opportunity to drink whiskey and mingle with beautiful women.’
