But no way could she walk back into the Thurston-Hughes offices with her head held high. Never again. Certainly not, given the pure ice in Oliver’s eyes. She shrank back from his seeming fury and contempt.
“We’ll discuss that at a later date,” Oliver bit out. “If the two of you are through, rejoin the ball. Miss Glen, you should take a moment to make yourself more presentable, unless this fundraiser was merely a pretense to focus the tabloids on you. If that’s the case, then feel free to enter the party looking like you’ve just had intercourse. The press will write a nasty story about you, but don’t think a little embarrassment will have any effect on my brother. He’s used to getting caught in the act.”
Callum stepped in front of her as though he meant to shield her. “If you’re angry, take it out on me. Don’t you be a prick to her.”
She hated standing in their shadows, feeling like a piece of white trash, when only moments before she’d felt so close to Callum. That was the lie of sex for women, she realized. The act could feel so beautiful and intimate. The minute it was over, she was nothing but a whore.
Tori trembled, cold seeping down to her bones.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to get cleaned up.” Her voice shook.
“I’ll take you home. We can leave here quietly,” Callum offered. “Oliver, I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
“No, you’re staying. You’ve got a speech to make in twenty minutes for your fundraiser,” Oliver snarled. “Do your fucking job.”
She wished they would both leave. “You have to go, Callum. If you don’t thank the people for attending and donating, they’ll remark on it. Given the bad press of late, it won’t do the company any good.”
He clenched his teeth and reached for her hand. “I don’t want to leave you. You’re rattled, vulnerable.”
She couldn’t touch him now or she’d throw herself into his arms and cry. He couldn’t shelter her from Oliver’s wrath. She had made a terrible lapse in judgment, and he couldn’t save her from that. “I’ll be fine, Callum. Just give me a moment.”
His jaw tightened. “This isn’t over, Tori. I’ll see you in the ballroom. Oliver, why don’t you come with me?”
The eldest Thurston-Hughes looked her up and down, lingering on her rumpled skirt and swollen lips. Tori felt three inches tall before they both turned and exited, leaving her alone.
She’d ruined utterly everything. Now, she had to hope she could leave with some smidgeon of dignity. She feared that asking for a sparkling professional reputation was too much to hope for. And she wouldn’t even consider her heart.
With tears running down her face, she planned her escape.
* * * *
Oliver watched the conference room door. He wasn’t a fool. Tori meant to run. No way she would choose any other path. As much as he seethed with anger, he didn’t want her gone from his life. He might be a stupid bastard, but he couldn’t abide the thought of her no longer near him.
A young woman in a daring evening gown stepped up to Callum and said something, rubbing against him as if she was in heat. His brother flirted back with ease. Oliver scoffed. So much for true love.
“What happened?” Rory moved in beside him, asking his question in a low tone.
“What do you think happened? I found Cal with his hand in Tori’s knickers. He was two bloody seconds away from another paternity suit.”
Rory sighed and leaned against the wall. “Hell. Where is she? Is she all right?”
“She’s still in the conference room. I suspect she’s pulling herself together, though she should really be here so she can see how quickly Cal moves on.”
Rory frowned as he looked Callum’s way. “What are you talking about?”
“The blonde. He walked straight out of Tori’s arms and into hers. I don’t know. Perhaps she won’t care. Perhaps she’ll do the same thing with the next man she meets.”
Why had he thought she was any different? Why did he still care, for that matter? He’d caught her cheating on the man she’d promised to marry before they’d even exchanged vows. And here he was, loitering outside the conference room, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. He really was a self-torturing fuckwit.
He also had terrible taste in women. But at least now he knew what cloth Tori was cut from. No need to treat her with kid gloves anymore. If she didn’t care about her fiancé and wanted a fucking on the side, why shouldn’t he give it to her?
Something nasty took root in his gut, and it warmed him. Oliver welcomed the sensation because he’d been cold and almost numb for so long. Any change felt good, including the need to get a taste of what his brother had gotten—before she left for good.
“He’s just being polite, Oliver.” Rory’s voice drew him out of his thoughts. “And now he’s actively trying to escape her.”
Sure enough, Callum was extricating himself from the handsy blonde. His brother turned away and began pointedly speaking to a portly member of parliament.
“Really, Rory. Give him time,” Oliver drawled. “He’ll be back to his old habits.”