AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Hot. That was it. Despite the brisk temperature outside, it was extremely hot in the car. Her fingers fumbled with her jacket as she unbuttoned it, then moved to the clear buttons of her shirt. She paused. Strange. She could have sworn the buttons on this blouse were bigger. She dismissed that almost immediately as she undid two more buttons and fanned herself with her collar.
Looking out of the window, she noticed Conall was now speaking with one of his neighbors. The redhead was dressed sinfully in black heels and what Vivienne decided was a black body suit. It couldn’t be called anything else. As if one couldn’t just look at her and tell that she had that body most women would pay plastic surgeons for. Vivienne glared for long moments before deciding she was acting like a jealous girlfriend and…well, she wasn’t. She was the one-night stand. She was about to call Max to reassure him she wasn’t in a ditch somewhere when the woman stepped close to Conall. Without so much as space for air between the jut of her breasts and his chest, she reached out a creamy hand and caressed the side of his face.
Before Vivienne knew what she was doing, the car door was open and she was making a beeline for the woman. Every sense seemed heightened, and she could hear the angry thud of her heart as if it had crawled into her ear. That, coupled with a large burst of energy, had her moving quickly toward her target. She didn’t think about what she would do when she reached her. Vivienne just knew she wanted the woman’s hands off of Conall. Irrational it was, but the irrationality didn’t stop her. Her pace slowed when he grabbed the redhead’s hand and tugged it from his face. His expression was absolutely murderous as he looked down her.
Vivienne tightened her lips and fought the urge to snarl, and then she blinked, and shook her head. Her heart rate and the adrenaline pumping in her veins slowed.
Conall and the redhead had both turned in her direction, and the numerous eyes that had been on her as she sat in the car, and, apparently, had been following her, now moved curiously between her and Conall. She was mortified. What the hell was wrong with her? She’d just slept with a stranger and now she was about to beat down another one of his…women? This looked like a scene right out of Jerry Springer, and damn it, she wasn’t like that! She was a decent, boring paralegal.
Angry at herself and embarrassed she was acting out of character, and people had witnessed it, Vivienne turned, prepared to head back to the car, hang her head in shame, and wait for Conall to drive her back to her apartment, where she’d hopefully pull herself together, and forgot this entire thing ever happened. Okay, maybe not everything. She doubted she’d ever be able to forget him touching her.
“You!”
“Samia!” Conall’s voice was low, but anyone could hear the warning in his menacing tone.
Vivienne spun, knowing she was being addressed, and took a step back when she found Samia standing only inches from her. Up close, the woman was even more beautiful. Her hair was a mass of burnished auburn perfection, her skin flawless in its natural honey-tan, her eyes, brown in color, were probably the only ‘average’ feature she had, and in her face even those seemed exotic. As Vivienne studied her, Samia’s lip curled upward in an easy smile. If she had scowled, Vivienne couldn’t have tensed more.
Samia advanced again, but this time, Vivienne stood her ground, ignoring the feeling of discomfort at having another person in her space. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew Samia was trying to intimidate her, and she refused to give her the satisfaction.
“He’ll tire of you—”
“That’s none of your business,” she snapped. She definitely disliked this woman. Never had she wanted to call a woman ‘bitch’ more.
Samia smirked and took a step away, swiveling her head to Conall before turning back to Vivienne. “Your race is inferior. You’re weak and can never—”
Was she serious? She’d surely heard incorrectly. That was blatantly racist, so she’d obviously heard her wrong. Well, she’d give her the benefit of the doubt first. Her mother had always told her to give people that.
“What did you say?” Her teeth were clenched, her voice barely audible. The question seemed to come at a time of absolute silence.
“I said your race is inferior. Weak. Pathetic. He will grow tir—”
Before she could stop it, Vivienne’s hand collided with the side of Samia’s face. Her palm stung, but she felt gratification as Samia touched a finger to her lip. It came away red. She didn’t condone violence, obviously, but certain people deserved it. Yes, certain racist, red-haired bitches deserved it. That felt good.
