Page 26 of Breaking the Rules
She turned to face him, her cheeks still flushed with a combination of desire and embarrassment. “Yes, and he’s standing in my kitchen with a hard-on like a Redwood.”
Xavier wasn’t embarrassed. He looked ready to pounce.
She held up her hands when he took a step toward her. “Stay where you are. This is not going to happen.”
“It would have happened if you hadn’t gotten that call,” he argued.
“Then I owe that wrong number a huge debt of gratitude,” she said pointedly.
“And I’m going to kill them with my bare hands,” he smiled.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m going upstairs to take a shower. Alone!” she added when he made a move forward.A cold shower. With ice cubes.
“Where would you like me to put my things?”
“You’re not staying here, Saint.”
“Agree to disagree, Angel,” he said amicably.
She glared at him. “There is something very wrong with you, Xavier.”
“It’s called love.”
“Stop saying that!” she shouted as she stomped up the back staircase.
She shoved through the double doors of her bedroom and for the first time didn’t feel the sense of peace and calm envelop her when she entered the space. She’d gone for a creamy khaki on the walls to warm up the room. The hardwoods were a caramel tone complemented by the thick wool rug in cream. The wall of arched windows included French doors that opened onto a small balcony overlooking the front yard.
She moved into the bathroom. The walls were light and creamy in here, and the light flooded in from one large window over the tub—the exact replica of another in a room in Mykonos—and two skylights. The same stone from downstairs covered the floor in here, but the architect had added radiant floor heating beneath it. Even her feet were spoiled in here. She opened the glass door to the shower and turned the faucet on full blast.
Waverly undressed as the steam billowed out over the top of the glass and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She hoped she knew what she was doing, walking into two lion’s dens at once. The studio was aware of her return and not happy about it. And to further complicate things, she’d willingly almost ripped her clothes off and begged Xavier to take her on the kitchen counter.
She couldn’t trust herself alone with him. Everything clouded when he was around until Xavier was the only thing in focus. She had a thought and tried to push it away but it took root.
Was this what he’d felt for her all those years ago? That destructive need that shoved control and instinct and good judgment out of the way?No, she didn’t want to understand or empathize. She wanted to blame him, and keep her distance. She would protect herself now, from Xavier.
He claimed he loved her. But did either one of them really know what love was? They’d had their chance, had their passionate affair. And now it was over.
She stepped under the stream of water and let it gently wash away the hours of travel, the days of worry. She was home and tomorrow she was going to get the answers she sought.
CHAPTER SEVEN
She padded into her bedroom in a fluffy white towel, skin pink and glowing from a hot shower, and froze when she spotted him sitting on her bed. She still wore the chain around her neck, he noted. God, the spark of hope he’d had when she’d kissed him back had ignited into a slow burning flame when he saw the necklace he’d given her in its rightful place.
It had all meant something to her, too. And he was going to remind her of that.
“Uh-uh, it’s not happening, Saint. Get out.”
He held up bandages and tape. “Don’t be an asshole. You know I’d never force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“You mean like let you stay here? Or let you follow me around and pretend to be my security again?”
Xavier grinned. “Quit whining and let me change your dressings.”
“I can do it myself,” she snapped.
“Oh, I’d love to see that. Now, lose the towel.”
“I’m naked under here!”
