Page 27 of Good Girl Gone Bad

He gritted his teeth. “I asked you to wait for me.”

“I’m sorry, but you were taking forever, and the party had already started an hour before I joined,” she said. “I imagined you were busy with your grandmother. You told me you’d say hello to her, and when I left our room, you’d been gone for an hour. I came here to act as your fiancée, not to be treated like a Christmas ornament you only look at when you have to use it.”

“Maybe I should have hired an actress instead, or someone who would follow my direction,” he said. He paced in a small circle, crunching dry leaves under his heel.

“Sure, she would, as long as you didn’t forget to tell her some critical information. Such as the fact your mother is deceased. That would have come in handy tonight.”

He came to a halt, a chill snaking down his spine. “What?” The subject of his mother, his grandmother’s daughter, was always delicate, and his family skirted around it, avoiding it as much as possible. He appreciated the silence as an adult, even if as a child he wished he’d had someone explain to him what was happening.

She angled closer to him, her expression softening. “How do you expect me to play my role if you won’t let me in?”

“We talked about—”

“We talked about me, and our fake alternative world, but we never talked about you. I saw how you acted around your father. I’m not asking you to tell me anything I can use against you, but I need some pointers.”

Who was she kidding? She could use anything against him if she needed. “That’s why we have a confidential agreement.”

“Exactly. You don’t trust me,” she said, her voice breaking. An emotion he didn’t understand flickered in her huge green eyes, making him feel smaller than a grain of dirt. “I should go home. This doesn’t feel real to me, even as fake as it is. You don’t need me—you have your huge ego and secrets to keep you company.”

She turned to go, but he clasped her elbow and pulled her to him. She lifted her chin, questioning his actions. Damn it, so did he. His gut tightened at the idea of her walking out of his life, of her denying him, of her leaving him. He’d dealt with his mother leaving him because of her illness, then Angelica because of the darkness in his heart. He swallowed. He wasn’t done with Lily Jenkins.

“I need you,” he said, before he dipped his head and crushed her mouth with his. She fought him for a moment, biting his lips, but soon, she fought him in a completely different way, adding so much passion to the kiss he almost fell backward. “Lily, I need you now,” he said gruffly, terrified of how much he meant it.

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