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"Why can't you?"

"Because I can't concentrate like that! Every time you touch me, you're all I can think about. I need to be able to focus, which I can't do when the only thing I can hear is my heart pounding in my ears."

"I don't give a damn. I understand your job, but I'm not weak, Lily. Regardless of what you or Interpol thinks."

"I never said you were. This isn't some street gang you're up against. Have you learned nothing after the other night?"

"What the hell does that have to do with you wanting me to basically whore myself out to the media?"

I sigh, running my hands through my hair. "I'm not asking you to whore yourself out, will you calm the hell down?"

He takes a step forward, his jaw tight and eyes shining with malice. "No, I won't calm the hell down. I want you by my side, and I'm not agreeing to this ludicrous bullshit."

"Blake . . . either you do this, or Hyde is going to pull the plug on this whole thing and that would fuck us even more."

"My answer is no."

"God-damn it, why do you have to be so fucking difficult. Can't you just do what you're told?"

I jump back as Blake turns, punching the wall next to the bathroom door, busting a hole in the drywall.

"Blake," I scream as he pulls his fist out.

"I can't do this, Lily. Don't push me."

"Please . . . baby, I need you to understand."

His eyes are on fire and for the first time since meeting him, I'm worried about his temper. He's been very compliant with everything I've demanded and his fight against this is unnerving.

"Don't do that. You start with that begging shit and I swear to god," he hisses, glaring at me. The muscles in his arms flex as he clenches and unclenches his hands.

I'm almost afraid to move . . .

Fuck it.

I dash across the room and throw my arms around his neck, crushing my lips to his. He melts into me, wrapping his arms around my waist, lifting me into the air. I encircle his hips with my legs, and kiss him hard and unrelenting.

Finally, I pull away and hold his head in my hands. "Please trust me. I know what I'm doing."

He sighs and sets me on my feet. "I'll go to the events alone, then. If that will make this work," he says resigned.

"I think you should have a date. It’ll look more natural, Blake. You have a shit-ton of friends. Take Miranda. You know her, and she's passed the background checks," I say, venom seeping, unwanted into my voice.

"Are you trying to piss me off again?"

"No . . ."

"So, not only do you want me to pretend like we aren't together, which makes me feel like a lying bastard, but now you want me to take another date, which will really make me feel like a lying bastard."

"Blake."

The anger flares in his eyes again. "I'm not doing that."

"Blake, please," I whine, pressing my lips to his, gently

.

"You really going to be okay with me taking another woman, Miranda especially, to these events?"

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