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My mouth falls open. I—he—what? Does he mean what that sounds like, or did he misspeak?
“Well, I guess I lose then,” I mutter, reaching for my abandoned bag.
Roman reaches out and catches me around the waist and yanks me back before I can take a single step toward the door. Pressing his lips to the curve of my neck, he kisses along my pulse point, nipping and sucking over my skin. I gasp, going half-limp in his arms. I guess this isn’t technically kissing…and it feels so good, sending tingles of pleasure all over my body.
But then I realize what he’s doing. He won’t let go, sucking so hard against the same spot on my skin it’s bound to leave a mark. I bring my hands up, shoving his chest, but he’s already letting me go.
“What the hell?” I hiss, even as I glance around. There’s no way someone didn’t see that.
“Just in case you or anyone else needs a reminder that you’re mine.” Roman looks down at my neck with smug satisfaction and runs a thumb over the bruise. “Have a nice dinner, good girl.”
ChapterEighteen
ETTA
Isway anxiously between my feet and jump at every sign of movement from outside. The sausage-casing dress my mother laid out on my bed sticks uncomfortably to my skin, and sweat beads on my hairline.
“You look like you’re about to bolt,” Cat says from behind me.
I snort. If I didn’t know my mother would move mansions to find me, I’d be halfway across town by now. “What was your first clue?”
“If you do, let me know this time. I’ll help.”
Cat still hasn’t forgiven me for yesterday. Not that I can blame her exactly—I’d be traumatized for life. Hell, Iamtraumatized for life.
Maybe it’s that trauma that has me on edge as I stand at the window, staring out into the dark driveway. Maybe it’s that Harrison Dane is coming to dinner.One guess which one.
I drop the curtain on the window to the dining room and turn to face her. Her tone is light, but her eyes tell me she’s halfway serious. “Have I said I’m sorry enough?”
“Maybe a few more times.” She examines her nails, not meeting my eyes. “We’re close, I think.”
I shake my head. At least she’s direct, I guess. “I really would have told you—”
“—If you’d processed it yourself, I know,” she finishes.
“Right.”
Personally, I think that’s a good excuse. For someone like me, who takes time to think things through and doesn’t blurt everything out as it occurs to me, it makes total sense. Cat isn’t like that. Her thoughts seem to erupt from her mouth, fully formed and functional.
“I would never have told anyone, you know.”
“I know, but you would have reminded me—”
“—How dumb this is?”
Yeah, that.
I shake my head. Trust Cat to be the world’s bluntest voice of reason, just when you don’t want it.
She sucks on her teeth, like she’s thinking hard. “Look. You know I think all privileged men are the scum of the earth.”
“You exclusively date privileged men.”
“Yes, and I hate them. I was just going to say, I get it why you’d do it, I mean, he doesn’t even look real…but there are plenty of hot guys out there who don’t come with emotional damage and red flags the size of circus tents.”
I nod. “Mmm.”
Honestly, Roman isn’t the only walking red flag in this…whatever we are. I’m not putting my best foot forward lately either.
