His icy gaze turns to mine the instant I spring out of the chair. “Stay here.”
I freeze, truly scared by his infuriating gaze.
I’m not stupid. I know where he’s going, and what he’s planning on doing. That is why I’m trying to stop him from leaving. You can’t insult a man with a reputation like Isaac’s and not create a devastating ripple.
Isaac didn’t speak a word the entire drive home. His fists clenched the steering wheel tight, and his gaze remained planted on the road. I tried to soothe his anger, but nothing I said altered the furious mask marring his handsome face. He was physically in the car with me, but his mind was occupied elsewhere.
Tires screech as his car whizzes out of the driveway, gaining the attention of Harlow and Cormack, who are sitting in the den.
“What’s going on?” Cormack questions after rushing out onto the front patio.
“We ran into Col Petretti on the way home,” I stutter, my mind blurred with confusion.
"What happened?" Panic echoes in Cormack’s tone. "Did he say anything, do anything. . . Izzy?"
He grasps my biceps and shakes me, lifting my fogged haze.
"He didn't say anything. . .. He. . . umm. . . said I have the face of an angel.” I’m utterly confused as to why it would cause such a negative response from Isaac.
“Fuck,” Cormack breathes harshly while scrubbing his hand over his head. “Where did you see Col?”
“At 57.” My panicked eyes lock with Cormack’s. “Can you stop him?”
“No one can stop Isaac, but that doesn’t mean I won’t try.”
He places a peck on Harlow’s shocked mouth and darts toward a garage housing his extensive collection of cars.
* * *
By the time Isaac and Cormack return, two hours have ticked by on the clock. Harlow encouraged me to have a shower and to change out of my dress; then I spent the last hour and a half wearing a hole in the expensive Persian rug in the den with my ponderous pacing.
Isaac's eyes stray to mine the instant he walks into the room. His anger is still visible in his slit gaze. I scan his body and sigh noisily when I notice he doesn't have any physical damage to his body.
My steps toward him halt when he roughly shakes his head and exits the room as quickly as he arrived. When I dash after him, Cormack grasps the crook of my elbow, stopping me.
“You won’t get anything out of him, Izzy,” Cormack warns, his tone as low as my heart rate. “He locks up his emotions tighter than Fort Knox.”
“Then you either tell me what is going on, or I’ll force him to tell me.” My tone tells him I’m not kidding. I want answers, and I want them now.
“Then you’ll lose him forever.” Cormack’s tone is as bitter as the bile sitting in the back of my throat.
Tears well in my eyes so fast they burn from the sudden rush of moisture.
Spotting my dour expression, Cormack says, “I haven’t seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you in years. Not since Ophelia, but if you force his hand, you'll lose him, Izzy.”
My eyes dance between Cormack’s, silently pleading for more information.Who is Ophelia? What does it mean that he looks at me differently? Was it Ophelia who forced Isaac’s hand previously? Is Isaac as captivated with me as I am with him?
“If he wants you to know, he will tell you himself,” Cormack responds to my wordless interrogation.
* * *
I've been tossing and turning in bed nonstop the past several hours. My body is still relishing my previous orgasms, but it is the gnawing pit twisting my chest keeping me awake. There was palpable tension between Col and Isaac, but it seemed to be so much more than just rivalry. Their hate for each other is personal and goes much deeper than some stupid mob turf war.
I stiffen when the hinges on the old wooden door in my room creak. My pupils widen when Isaac strides into the room. He is still wearing the same three-piece suit he was wearing at dinner. I remain quiet as he removes his shoes and jacket. My pulse quickens when he continues undressing until he is wearing nothing but a pair of black boxers.
I squeal when he slides in between the sheets and flips me over. His hand splays across my stomach, pulling me back toward him. My curvy backside snuggles in close to his erect crotch and his bare chest heats my barely covered back.
“No questions, just sleep, Isabelle.”
