He was shouting loudly when he said, “A month I’ve been taking you to the finest restaurants, feeding you the best food, dancing f**king attendance on you like an absolute jackass and you barely let me put my tongue in that sweet mouth of yours. Yet, in one f**king night you open your legs for my f**king brother when I’m under the same goddamned roof.” He shook her roughly again and yelled, “You f**king whore!”
“Let her go, Miles.”
Belle and Miles’s eyes swung to the voice that came from door.
There stood James wearing faded jeans and a black t-shirt that fit snug on his chest and stomach. His black hair was tousled. His feet were bare. His powerful body was held stiff and the expression on his face was downright scary.
At the sight of James in all his angry beauty, Belle forgot her current physical predicament and tears crawled up her throat, stung her eyes and she didn’t have the strength to hold them back.
They spilled down her cheeks.
James’s angry gaze swung to her face, he took one look at her and the obvious anger turned to even more obvious fury and he strode purposefully into the room.
“Take your hands off her,” he demanded.
“Fuck you,” Miles returned viciously.
James got close, his eyes locked on his brother and he warned softly, “I’m not going to ask again.”
James and Miles glared at each other and Belle stood frozen watching them as the white-hot current of what seemed to be hatred crackled between them.
Suddenly Miles moved. He tossed Belle toward James with great force, sending her flying across the short expanse and colliding into James’s body.
James’s arms immediately folded around her to hold her close.
“Have her,” Miles snapped, sounding like she wasn’t a she but an it. A toy, a plaything, something you could blithely toss around and throw away.
“We’ll talk later,” James said in a way it was clear anyone in their right mind wouldn’t want to be present at that particular chat and Miles’s ugly expression turned uglier.
“No, Jack, we won’t. Fuck that,” Miles clipped.
“We’re going to have words,” James demanded.
“We’re done talking,” Miles retorted.
“What’s going on?” Joy asked, her concerned voice coming from the door and Belle had had enough.
She yanked out of James’s arms and ran to her bag.
There was stuff in the bathroom but she didn’t care. She’d buy more. She was leaving, immediately, even if she had to walk halfway to town to meet the taxi.
She started to zip her bag but felt the hot touch of James’s hand at the small of her back.
“What’s going on?” Joy repeated in a motherly demand at the exact same moment James murmured, “Poppet.”
At that word, Belle zipped her bag with a sharp movement and whirled around, dislodging his hand, her eyes shooting up to lock on his.
“Don’t touch me,” she whispered, her voice thick with tears.
His hand came up and toward her face as he said gently, “Belle.”
She lifted her own hand, knocking his aside. It registered somewhere that her action made his body jerk and his brows drew together.
“I said, don’t touch me,” she repeated and turned away. Grabbing her suitcase by the handles, she moved to get her purse. “I never want to see you again.” She turned, her gaze sweeping the room to see Miles was still there, Joy was at the door and Yasmin had joined her.
The women looked pale, Miles looked furious, James looked concerned.
All of them were watching her.