Beautiful Revenge (A Good Wife #1) - Sienna Blake Page 0,83
want him, I hold out my hand and give him my slowest, sexiest smile – the one I reserve for when I want to impress, the one that never fails to have a man eating out of my palm.
He laughs.
The prick laughs at me.
I’m so shocked I just blink at him like an idiot, my hand still stuck out like a misplaced limb. What. The. Fuck.
“Your games won’t work on me,” he says.
I straighten up, my body flushing with shame and lust, a heady combination. “Let’s not play games then.”
“You don’t want to mess around with me.”
“Maybe I do.”
His features harden. “I’m no good for you. I just thought I’d do my moral duty and help out.”
I bristle. “I don’t need saving.”
“I was talking about him. He was about to get his balls kicked up into his head.”
He leans in so that he’s only inches away, so close I catch my first smell of him. Musky and manly with a hint of wood smoke underneath. I want to bury my face into his chest and just inhale him in, long and deep. Musk and wood smoke. For some reason it makes me feel… safe. This feeling washes over me as his scent does and my limbs feel warm. It startles me. Safe is not something that I remember feeling in a long time.
He speaks low. “Why do you do this to yourself?”
“W-what? What the hell are you talking about?”
Only then does his gaze leave my eyes to give me a long, languid once-over. It isn’t the kind of look that I’m used to. It doesn’t rip at my clothes or grab at my skin. This look caresses my body like a tender kiss. I’m stripped until my wretched soul is left with nothing to cover it.
I swallow. I stand up straighter and lift my chin a little higher. But my fingers are fiddling with the hem of my dress. Suddenly I’m not feeling so comfortable in my skin-tight mini dress and black patent leather sky-high come-fuck-me heels. What felt like armor, now feels cheap and flimsy.
He looks back up to meet my gaze and I catch the sadness in his eyes. When he speaks there’s no trace of anger left in his voice. “You’re so much more than this. You just need someone to remind you.”
He turns without another word and starts to push through the throng of bodies. For a second I’m so stunned I can’t move.
Bastard. How dare he? Don’t you dare go after him.
My heart slams in protest as I watch him leave, taking my safety with him. He has tied himself to something deep inside me that remembers who I am. It remembers all of what I am. The good parts, the worthy parts, the parts of me that are more than this parade I put on for the world. “You’re so much more than this. You just need someone to remind you.” I want someone to remind me. I want him to remind me.
I go after him.
I can’t see him as I elbow my way through the crowd. Move. Move! Can’t you see I have to get to him? Where is he? Has he left already? What if I’ve already lost this chance?
I catch a glimpse of him stopped up ahead at the coat check, and it renews my hope. I yell at him to stop, but he can’t hear me over the noise of the music. No one can. These arms all feel like they are conspiring to hold me back as I struggle and shove my way through the thick forest of bodies. I watch helplessly as he turns from the coat check and disappears through the club doors. I push and scramble my way through with renewed vigor.
Finally I pull free. I burst through the club doors and scan the lot in front of me, a cool night breeze teasing at my hair. Where is he? Oh God. I lost him.
I spot his tall figure striding across the half-empty car park, a brown leather jacket now covering his frame. Relief rushes through me.
“Hey! You!” I yell as I stride as fast as I can in my heels.
He just ignores me and keeps walking. Bastard. Men don’t ignore me. I snatch off my heels so that I can run faster.
His strong legs are long, and he’s halfway across the parking lot before I even get near him. When I’m close enough I throw one of my heels at him to get his attention.