Page 13 of Losing Control


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‘Because it was a mistake I’ll never make again. Ever.’ His jaw pulses, his eyes harden and his thumb stills its caress. ‘I won’t love you. I won’t mourn you. I won’t be that fool again.’

He walks away, back to the window, and I stare after him. Cold. Confused.

‘Then why kiss me?’

His eyes come back to me, his face set hard. ‘It seems no amount of hatred can stop this fire between us.’

I feel sick. Sick to know he speaks the truth. Sick to know I almost caved.

‘Well, I beg to differ.’ I smooth down my skirt, ignore the damp cling of my blouse where his mouth has been, and face him down. I won’t let him win this.

‘It’s a bit late to d

eny its existence now. That little display was enough to convince us both. We just established that.’

There is no answer I can give to that, so I go with my gut. ‘Go to hell, Cain.’

I turn to start stuffing the rest of my belongings into my bag. The sooner I leave, the sooner I can get away from him and—

‘I’d have a pretty hard time running the company from there.’

I freeze. My heart thuds in my chest. I can’t have heard him right.

I glare at him. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘When I said I was coming back to take what I’m owed...’

He faces me head-on now and I can see his power visibly seeping into every pore, his ease returning, his control.

‘I wasn’t referring to you—appealing as that idea is. I was referring to the company...to Dad’s shares.’

I swallow. ‘You’re not serious?’

‘Deadly.’

‘But Marie wouldn’t... She would have discussed it with me first. She would have at least mentioned it.’

‘Be that as it may, they are mine.’

I shake my head at him. This can’t be happening. It just can’t.

He pockets his fists as he holds my eye. ‘You need to practise looking happy about it. My personal assistant, Sheila, will be arranging a function in a fortnight, for the investors and some acquaintances of mine—a kind of welcome back into the fold, so to speak. It’ll be good to make the right impression. Don’t you think?’

‘You can’t do this...we can’t do this.’

‘Correction. We need to do this if the business is to survive and our investors are to be happy once more.’

‘How do you know about the investors?’

‘Everyone in the industry knows, Alexa. You can’t keep that kind of thing a secret.’

My hand presses into my abdomen, the empty ache beneath increasing tenfold as I ask, ‘How long will you be here?’

‘Who’s to say I won’t make it a permanent thing?’

Is he goading me on purpose? Rubbing salt into the wound? There’s no way he would come back permanently.

He can’t.

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