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I’ve had boyfriends. I’ve ended it with them, sometimes when they didn’t want that, but it’s never been the way it is with Ezra. Pounding drunk on my door at midnight. Telling me he’ll never let me go. Demanding that I marry him. It’s weird, and something about it isn’t right. His desperation doesn’t make a ton of sense to me other than he wants my money and Monroe.
We make our way through the airport and down to baggage, where I find our driver holding a sign with my name on it. Lenox and I haven’t said another word to each other since the choking incident, and it’s just as well. I haven’t wanted to be overtly cruel or bitchy to him because, well, it’s honestly not who I am, but he’s doing me the favor of the century, and being that way won’t help my cause.
The Las Vegas air is mild, cool, but not too cold, aided by the blinding sunshine and desert air. I slip into the backseat of the car with Lenox beside me. The driver finishes loading our bags and we’re off, headed toward the hotel. My knee is bouncing, and my hands are knotting.
He turns to look at me finally. “Relax, Georgia. I’m not going to back out.”
Wow, when he said he could read me, he wasn’t kidding. Relief shoots like a geyser through me, but I still don’t understand why he said yes. “May I ask why you’re doing this when there is nothing in it for you? I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, because I’m extremely grateful, but as you said, I have nothing you want.”
His eyes dance about my face in the dim light of the car in such a way that it makes my face flush ever so slightly, if for no other reason than he’s much better at this than I am. His gaze isn’t heated or even kind. It’s cold and detached. Hell, he stared at his computer screen with more warmth and interest than at me.
And I decide I don’t care anymore why he’s doing this.
Does it matter? I need him to help me wade through the maelstrom of the situation I’ve found myself in, but that’s where this thing between us ends. He signed the prenup and says he isn’t going to back out. We created rules and laws—both of us. He’s silently telling me it’s business and his reasons are his own. Though in all likelihood, he’s doing this for Zax and Grey and the guilt trip I threw at him where they’re concerned.
I don’t need or want more from him than this. I don’t want his time, attention, or interest.
I go to turn away from him when he catches my jaw and turns my face back to his. His blue eyes darken, his pupils expand, and with that, a chill sweeps over my body. “You are to tell me about any and all texts, calls, or conversations you have with Ezra.”
My tongue thickens in my mouth at the way he says that—so unrelenting, so unnegotiable—but I somehow manage to maintain my easy disposition even as my nerves are scraped raw. Sarcastically, I bite out, “Sure thing, hero.”
I turn away, jerking my jaw free of his touch and breaking eye contact first when my phone pings in my purse between us. Inadvertently, I scowl, somehow already knowing it’s Ezra. For a moment, I don’t move, even when I can feel Lenox’s expectant gaze on me. I’m salty after his demand and debating if I want to give him access to my private messages when a second ping comes through. I sigh and pull out my phone.
Ezra: I had our suites moved next to each other with a connecting door between them.
Ezra: After you get settled, come to my room, and we’ll have a drink and talk. Can’t wait to see you. XO.
I go to toss my phone back into my purse when Lenox catches my wrist, stopping me. He twists my arm, moving my phone so he can see the screen, and taps the glass twice, his hard eyes on me before taking the phone from my hand.
“Hey!” I bark, trying to snatch it from him, only to have him plant his hand on my shoulder and hold me back. “What are you doing?”
“Sending Ezra a coded link to a bullshit website that will give me backdoor access to everything on his phone. And telling him to fuck off.”
“What? Why are you doing that?”
He glares furiously at me after he hits send, his jaw tense and tight as he grits out, “Because I want to see his emails, texts, apps, spending habits, and search history. I want access to his banking and credit cards. And I want him to know that you’re with me now.”
“That was not for you to do,” I say with an indignant, sharp lift of my chin.
He tilts his head as if to say too late and then hands me my phone back. I take a look at the screen, at what he wrote.
Me: Did you send me this?
There’s a link following it and another message from me.
Me: I won’t be coming to your room for a drink or a talk or anything else. I told you it’s over. Please respect that. I’m married to Lenox Moore now
.
Oh shit.
“I was going to tell him in person,” I snap, resentful of his high-handed approach. “You had no right. I was with him for two years, and though I may not love him or want much to do with him, that’s not the way this needs to go. I still have to deal with him.”
He gets right up in my face, his impassioned blue eyes scorching a path straight into mine. “I am here about to marry you because you told me he’s not taking no for an answer. You told me he’s been stalking you, which judging by him moving your suite without your consent, he is. He needs to know you’re going to be my wife, and you’ll never be his. You asked me why I’m here. That’s why I’m here, Georgia. To get these guys to finally leave you alone so you can have the life you fucking deserve. Isn’t that what you begged me to do?”
Fire blazes between us, a thick red haze I can almost taste. I’m at war with myself. On the one hand, he’s right. It is what I asked him to do. It is why he’s here about to marry me. I certainly wasn’t looking forward to that particular conversation with Ezra, and in truth, I was afraid of how he’d react.
But still, I don’t like Lenox fighting my battles for me or handling something that should fall squarely on my own shoulders. I was going to tell Ezra tonight, once Lenox and I are officially married, and by doing so, I’d eliminate Ezra’s options. I’d be removing him from my life simply because I am married to another man. He can’t beg me to come back or try to return my ring to me or even show up at my house or place of business.
