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“Two?” he frowns. “Does it matter?”
“Hmm.” I smile up at him. “I’m thinking two hours is more than enough for you to show me just how much you missed me.”
His eyes flare and I pull his face toward mine again, before taking his hand and leading him to my bedroom.
PRESENT
CHAPTER21
TRISTAN
“Idon’t know what you’re doing here, or what sick game you are playing, but I want you to leave and never come back.”
Cora’s words replay in my mind and I laugh softly. It amuses me that she thinks she has any right to tell me what to do, or where to go.
You aren’t in control here, Cora.
I place my glass of scotch down on the pristine surface of my desk and glance with distaste at the report open on my tablet. These days, with an army of engineers and coders working for me, too much of my time goes into reading proposals, reports, and financial statements.
“I won’t let you disrupt my life.”
I toss the tablet away with a sigh and drain my glass. Just like that, she’s snuck into the foremost part of my brain again, and now I can’t stop thinking about that half hour at the museum.
I run through every word she said to me, every fiery emotion that flashed through those defiant gray eyes.
She hates me, obviously.
Somehow, she thinks she has a reason to be angry with me, to act as if I did something wrong, not her. After what she did, she shouldn’t even be able to look me in the eye, and yet she thinks she can order me out of the museum.
I take a deep breath, consumed by the thought of punishing her.
I want to make her regret what she did.
I want her to tell me to my face why she did it, so I can laugh and tell her I don’t care anymore.
But that’s a lie. Obviously, I still care.
“Why are you here?”
If she doesn’t know already, soon, she will. My name will forever be linked to her beloved museum. Will she shrink when she finds out? Will she find it unbearable?
After seeing her and experiencing her defiance, I no longer consider that punishment to be enough. I don’t know exactly what I want from her, just that I want more.
I want to see her cry and beg and tell me she regrets everything.
I want her to wilt in the face of my hate, and in the knowledge that I’ll never forgive her.
And I want to kiss her again, to strip her bare of every barrier that can protect her from me.
She doesn’t matter. Forget about her.
I ignore the voice from the sensible part of my brain.
“Mia.”
There’s a beep in my ear as my assistant wakes from wherever she goes when she’s not in use.
“The Frobisher Society gala…”
