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“I’m so glad you’ve decided to join me.” He slips his hand down and laces our fingers together, then wrapping his arm over my shoulder, he forces me to cross my own body with my forearm, and cuffs me with my own limb. “You’re energetic after you’ve been fucked, Ms. Cannon. Your temper excites me.”
“My temper will light you on fire,” I sneer, tripping on the stairs as we start down and I try desperately to hurt him.
Instead of sinking my elbow into his ribs, he catches me. Saves me from a long fall. And presses a chuckling kiss to my temple when I hiss.
“I don’t want to meet your ex-girlfriend!”
“And I don’t want you to leave yet. I will speak to Ms. Towers any time she decides to visit, for the rest of my fucking life, because she deserves my loyalty. But that doesn’t mean you have to throw a tantrum and act like I’m screwing her against the wall in front of you. Wanting you and treating her with respect are not mutually exclusive things.”
“Felix—”
“Felix.” A sultry, devious, woman’s purr brings me to a standstill and pulls my focus to the bottom of the stairs as they come into view.
Savannah Towers is a powerful woman. Medusa-like in the way she carries herself. She wears a skirt-suit that looks fresh, despite the ridiculous hour, her hair is perfect, and her lipstick, un-smudged.
Her eyes drill into mine, though she speaks her friend’s name, and when I straighten myself out and lift my chin, searching for a shred of dignity, she makes no attempt to be subtle in the way she sizes me up.
She still considers himhers. And me, in the wrong friggin’ house.
“Savvy.” Felix keeps a tight hold on me and forces us to descend the final flight of stairs. When I stumble and fight his grip, he controls where we go and catches me when I falter. “You look stunning.” The moment we’re at the bottom, he releases me, takes her hands, and presses a sickening kiss to the top of her left one. “It feels like forever since you last stopped by.”
I’m the idiot. The outsider. The lemming, standing behind the pair and watching them greet each other like the former lovers they are.
But instead of making a run for it, now that Felix’s back is turned, I wait right where he left me, wringing my hands and clamping my lips shut in an effort not to puke all over my new shoes.
“You’ve been busy,” he continues, standing over the woman who is still smaller than he, shorter, even in a power suit and heels. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too.” She reaches up and cups his cheek, her manicured nails sliding through the short hair he keeps on his jaw. “I tried calling you earlier. Your phone off?”
“No.” He cups her hand with his own and laughs. “I have a guy onhold. He’ll be there for a while yet.” Stepping back, he looks the woman up and down.
My stomach tumbles in all the worst ways when he lingers on her legs. Her hips.
“Did you just get back?” he asks her.
“Mmm. I flew in earlier today.”
Finally, like she can’t help herself, she peeks over his shoulder and raises a brow. “Manners would demand I ask who your friend is, Lix. But common knowledge assures me this is the beautiful Christabelle Cannon.” She makes a show of stepping around the man she considers her property, and takes my hand when she’s close enough.
I remain on the bottom stair, so I stand taller than her. But she doesn’t seem to mind, looking up at me and showing off a fifty-thousand-dollar smile; though I know she means it to be a sneer. “It’s a pleasure to formally meet you, Ms. Cannon. I sincerely hope my most recent article doxing you and your engagement was received with humor. I meant no harm.”
“You wrote about a relationship that does not exist.” I don’t fight her when she takes my hand and curtsies, but I’ll be damned if I return the gesture. “You announced I was engaged to a man I had absolutely no connection to.”
“And yet…” She casts a sly grin toward her friend. “Here you are, in his home, in the middle of the night.” Then she looks to my chest and raises a single, Botox-injected brow. “Without underwear.”
I tear my hand from hers and fold my arms. Scowling, I look to Felix. “I’ll leave you and your friend to catch up in privacy.”
“Nah, join us.” He snags my arm before I can turn on my heels and make my escape, then tugging me down the final stair, he sweeps me under his arm and forces me to walk. To follow the woman who clearly knows her way around this home, and into a sitting room I’ve not entered in all the time I’ve been here.
A fireplace takes up a large portion of one wall, and wingback chairs and a sofa fill in the center of the room.
While Felix takes me one way, Savannah goes another and helps herself to a drinks cart overflowing with expensive bottles of liquor, and glassware I know costs in the thousands—per piece.
“Whiskey?” Savannah peeks over her shoulder and smirks as Felix sits on the couch and drags me down beside him. “Lix? Ms. Cannon? Would you like a drink?”
“No,” he answers for us both, placing his hand on my thigh and ensuring I stay put. “Ms. Cannon is a diabetic, Savvy.” He glances my way when I snarl, only to grin and pat my thigh. “Not that anything said in this home is ever for public publication.” He winks and looks back to his friend. “You’re not writing an article right now, Savvy. And you know the rules.”
She finishes pouring a glass for herself before turning away from the tray and slowly meandering in our direction. “Discretion is my best personality trait. However, diabetics can still drink alcohol, can they not?”
