Hollywood Prince (Hollywood Royalty #3) - Natasha Madison Page 0,79

I just shake my head.

“Whatever,” I say under my breath, and I flag down a cab and get in, giving him my address. I get home and walk up the stairs, not bothering to turn on the lights. I undress and crawl into bed, looking out into the darkness.

The night is horrible. I toss and turn, and finally, I toss the covers aside. I look at the clock and see that it’s almost six a.m., so I grab my phone and see that he hasn’t even attempted to call or text me. I get up and get dressed, stopping by Starbucks before heading to his house. I should have just calmed down before I spoke to him, I realize as I pull up to his house. I get out, grabbing the coffee, and make my way to the door. I wonder if he’s sleeping or if his night was just as restless as mine. I walk in, and the house is eerily quiet.

I put my purse down and walk up the steps to his room, my heart pounding in my chest.

I walk to the doorway, and I stop, right there, and take in the room. The room we shared just yesterday morning. It’s almost as if it’s moving in slow motion. The naked blonde in the bed sits up, the sheet falling off her huge naked tits and her mouth opening when she sees me. My eyes move around the room, landing on the bedside table that holds an open condom wrapper and then to the entrance of his bathroom where I hear the shower turn off. My hands start to shake, and I think my knees are going to give out. I look around confused, my eyes going around the room again, taking everything in, not sure what is going on, and then he steps into the room. Fresh from the shower with a white towel wrapped around his waist. A white towel in his hands as he dries his hair. “Oh, you brought coffee,” he says and walks over to me, grabbing the coffee tray from my hand.

“Cindy, this is Erin. She’s my PR girl,” he says to her, and I have to take my hand and hold the door to stop from falling. “This is Cindy. We met last night.” I look at him, his eyes looking right through me. “Don’t worry, though.” He stands there. “We didn’t get caught, so your job is still safe.”

“What?” I whisper. I have to get out of here. I think I’m going to be sick.

“No one took our pictures, so your dream job is still intact,” he says with a snide tone. I look at him, taking one last look at him and the naked blonde lying in the bed I was lying in less than twenty-four hours ago when he made love to me. I turn and walk down the steps, looking around at all the places he made love to me. All the places that I almost told him I loved him. I get to the bottom of the steps, and the tears are now running down my face, making my vision blurry. I grab my bag, and my knees give out right as I’m about to walk out the door, but I hold out my hand, gripping the doorjamb.

I walk out, closing the door behind me, and a sob comes out of my mouth. I try to place my hand over my mouth but trip on the step. I can hardly see in front of me. Holding the railing, I take the steps as fast as I can. I grab my keys, and they fumble out of my hand right before I open my door. I bend to get them, falling on my knees and shaking my hand, landing palms out on the rocks. I get up and get in the car. The pain in my chest feels like little shards of glass going through me. I start the car, and reverse it, my heart pounding so hard I can’t hear anything except the beating. I press the phone button and dial the one person I know I can go to. He answers on the second ring, his voice groggy.

“Daddy,” I sob out, the tears flowing so fast I can’t stop them. Rivers running down my face.

“Baby girl, what’s the matter?” I hear the worry in his voice. “Where are you?”

“It hurts so much,” I tell him, driving as fast as I can get away from Carter.