She'd drank far too many gins and tonics to be aware of her surroundings, and I tried to stop the condemnation that bubbled up. Irina wasn't unaware of the dangers in the city, but she still took risks.
One night every month, she shed her professional surface to go to Indulgence and torture me. Her green eyes were hazy as she studied me, her head lolling against me with more weight with every step I took. The bare skin of her legs draped over my suit-covered arm was the epitome of temptation.
I wanted to run my hands over her. Wanted to see my skin against hers. But the raised flesh on the backs of my hands reminded me of who I was. Of where I belonged.
She was mostly asleep by the time I set her in the passenger seat of my SUV, smiling up at me through the drowsy look on her face. My heart clenched, knowing she thought the day had come where I finally gave in to the pulsating thread that connected us. I couldn't put into words, but something about Irina just felt like mine. Even though I knew she wouldn't be.
Eventually, she'd tire of waiting for me to make a move. Eventually, she'd move on with a man and he'd give her the white picket fence and two point five kids she needed. Her soft snores filled the SUV as I climbed in the driver's side. If she'd been any of the Bellandi girls, I might have chuckled. With Irina, all I wanted was to fall asleep to that sound.
I drove her to the nearest Bellandi owned hotel, checking in and carrying her up to the room I booked. It wasn't the Penthouse, but Irina would sleep through the night and race out first thing the next morning.
Horrified. Embarrassed.
Pissed.
As I'd requested when checking in, the concierge dropped off a bottle of water and aspirin quickly, ducking out of sight when he caught the thunderous look on my face. I placed them on the nightstand where she'd be able to reach them when she woke up with the hangover from hell.
I supported her weight against my body, tugging the covers down so I could lay her in them. When her body laid out on her back finally, the purple dress that covered her fit like a second skin. The temptation to touch my fingers to the place where her heart beat in a steady thrum consumed me, but my hand hovered just an inch from her skin. The burn scars on the back taunted me, reminding me why it had to be this way.
Her red lips glistened, a beckoning temptation I wasn't strong enough to resist. I leaned in, my lips touching hers in the faintest hint of a kiss as I pulled away. I grabbed the notepad off the nightstand, scribbling a quick note on it. My throat was tight as I scribbled the words she'd see when she first woke up.
Stay home.
I imagined her reading it the next morning, drinking the water and taking the pills as she forced her eyes to work. The rejected look on her face wasn't hard to imagine.
I'd pushed her away countless times since we met.
She deserved a man who could give her the world. Not one who could barely tolerate being touched.
I made my way to the door, glancing back at her and knowing one truth.
It would be the last time I watched her dance at Indulgence. Walking away would mean the end of whatever it was that threatened to pull me under.
I turned and closed the door behind me with a final click that echoed through me.
Also by Adelaide Forrest
Bellandi Crime Syndicate
Bloodied Hands
Forgivable Sins
Grieved Loss
Shielded Wrongs
Insta-Love Novellas
The Men of Mount Awe
Deliver Me from Evil
Kings of Conquest - Cowritten with Lyric Cox
Claiming His Princess
