Torn - Cynthia Eden Page 0,7

the right to be angry. He’d totally screwed up her night. All her careful plans had gone straight down the drain because of him. And now tension was coursing through her blood. Her body was too tight and aching, and her control had never been so close to splintering.

“Thanks for the ride home,” she told him. Not. “I’ll see you in the morning.” She turned away from him and hurried up the steps of her building.

“Not that easy . . .”

She glanced back over her shoulder. He was following her. Looking all tall, dark, and deadly as he strode away from his beast of a motorcycle. If he hadn’t been her partner, if he hadn’t been a friend, he would have made for a perfect lover. The kind that she usually took when the need got to be too much for her.

But he’s Wade. Not some guy that she could forget the next day. She’d see him, again and again. And Victoria had one rule when it came to her lovers—­no ties. No emotions.

Not ever. Wade wouldn’t understand that rule.

She’d seen how dangerous love could be. Love had ripped apart her family. Love had sent her father into a killing fury.

She looked back up at her building. Safety was a few feet away. She nodded to her doorman and hurried inside. The marble gleamed beneath her feet and—­

Wade was behind her. The doorman had just let him come right in. Probably because he’d seen Wade before and knew they were friends. Only she didn’t feel friendly at that moment.

The alcohol had lowered her inhibitions far too much. She probably should have just stopped with one drink, but a second one—­for courage—­had seemed like a great idea at the time.

She jabbed the button on the elevator. Wade came up behind her. She could practically feel the heat from his body reaching out to wrap around her. “I’m home, safe and sound,” Victoria said as the elevator doors opened. She stepped inside and turned to face him. “You can go now.”

But he shook his head. He walked into the elevator, and she had to step back. “We aren’t done,” Wade told her, his voice a bit rough.

She knew he was used to getting what he wanted. She’d known that from the first week of working with him. But . . . what does he want from me?

His gaze slid toward the control panel.

“Don’t even think it,” Victoria warned him as she leaned forward and swiped her security card over that panel. The last thing she wanted was to play another round of stop-­the-­elevator with him. Very resolutely, she hit the button for her floor.

His lips curved, just the faintest bit. “I don’t have to stop it this time. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of privacy at your place for our little chat.” He rolled back his shoulders. “We need to clear the air. It’ll be good, for both of us.”

She seriously doubted that. They didn’t speak again until the elevator stopped on the top floor, and then he was the one to back away. He motioned for her to head out, and she pretty much jumped out of that elevator. She hurried past him and nearly ran down the hallway. Victoria was the only resident who lived on the top floor. A penthouse. Expensive as all hell, but totally worth it—­both for the view and the privacy. In order to get to this floor, a special key card was required in the elevator.

The lush carpeting swallowed their footsteps as they headed for her door. She fumbled a bit with the lock but seconds later they were inside. Victoria shut the door behind them and sealed them into her home.

She tossed her keys onto the small table in the foyer. She didn’t bother flipping on the lights. The large, floor-­to-­ceiling windows in her den let in plenty of illumination, courtesy of the Atlanta skyline. She headed toward those windows and stared out at the city. Usually the view soothed her.

Not tonight.

She waited for him to speak first.

“You want me to apologize, don’t you?” Wade said as he came to stand near her.

Victoria risked a quick glance at him. His gaze wasn’t on her. It was on the city. The lights.

She followed his stare. This view is why I sank all of my savings into this place. Because I can stand here, look out at the rest of the world and feel safe. No one is around me. I’m free up here.

Free, but not

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