Chapter 15

Gemma

I didn’t care that I was scantily dressed, only in a plaid shirt that belonged to a man I didn’t want to set eyes on ever again. At least I had some underwear on. I just wanted to get out of there. I didn’t really know the way out of the estate; I hadn’t been paying attention to the trail that Luke had driven down the previous day. I still couldn’t think of him as Vincent; Luke was the one I’d so stupidly fallen for.

All I knew was that this place was deeply tucked into the woods, and I would have a hard time finding my way out of here. Very soon, I was lost. Panting, I keeled over, placing my hands on my bare knees.

It was a lovely sunny day out in the woods, and the birds chirping would have been an easy distraction. But, not today. Today I had bigger things on my mind. For instance, that I was the biggest idiot the world had ever seen.

How could I have fallen for that charm? I had certainly lived up to my simple small-town upbringing. I had fallen into the arms of the first handsome rich man who’d offered to fix my tire. How much more of a cliché could I become?

I imagined Luke waking up in his kingly bed with a smile on his face, proud of his previous night’s conquest. He might even text a friend to tell him how he had nailed a simple country girl who didn’t know any better. And then he would text Sarah, or Maria, or whoever else he was supposed to be engaged to, and tell her he missed her and how lonely it was up here in the woods by himself.

I straightened up again, still panting. I was ashamed of myself. Not only was I embarrassed about falling for Vincent’s charms, but the man I idolized in the medical world was a complete playboy. Not worth my adoration.

I kept walking, hoping the path would lead me somewhere. By now, however, every direction I looked appeared to be the same. I worried that I was walking in a loop, and I was just going to end back up at the cabin again.

Images from the previous night flashed through my brain. His rock-solid body, his washboard abs, the trail of dark hair that ran down his navel and disappeared into his jeans. How big and tight he felt inside me. He had known exactly what to do with his fingers in his car. He’d had me under his complete control. Now I knew why; because he was a womanizer. I hadn’t thought I was his first; I wasn’t so naive… but I hadn’t realized he was nothing more than a playboy. The article about him made his reputation in the billionaire social circles very clear. Vincent Stoltz made women wet in their panties, and he was not shy about who he wanted to fuck. But it seemed the bad boy was going to be tamed. By Sarah, or Maria or whoever. Had I been one of his last flings? Should I be honored? Hell, no,

I wanted to scream until my throat bled. The banging in my chest was actually my heart, but it felt alien in my body. So stupid. So stupid!

I kept walking, keeping my blurry sights on getting out of the woods in one piece. I would become one of the many amusing anecdotes he related at one of his champagne parties. Just the thought of it made me sick.

The one thing I had vowed to never do in my life was have a one-night stand. And it wasn’t difficult to stick to the promise, given that the choice of men in this town wasn’t exactly drool worthy. But this was not how I imagined I would break that promise. I didn’t believe in one-night stands. I hadn’t believed that someone could make you so crazy, push your beliefs to such a limit that you would give in to your physical desires with no thought for the consequences.

And, unfortunately, I had been stupid enough to believe that it was more than just the sex. I had woken up with a happy satisfied glow on my face, believing that he wanted me for more than just a night, that our comfort with each other meant something more.

The truth was that he was here on a vacation, to get away from the pressures of leading a life in the limelight. I was just a bonus.

I heard the car engine and stopped in my tracks. I could tell that the car was nearby. I held my breath, the beating of my heart growing loud in my ears. The sound of a door slamming put me further on edge. Twigs and leaves crunched under shoes; someone was running toward me.

“Gemma!” he shouted behind me.

I turned slowly, starkly aware now that I was practically naked. I had scratches from thorns on my bare legs, and that my hair was probably now an even bigger mess.

“Seriously, Gemma, where are you going?” he growled, like he was exhausted with me. His fists were clenched, and his shoulders were heaving. That dark torturous gaze had returned to his eyes, the one I had seen the previous day at the diner.

“I’m trying to go back home,” I said, jutting my chin out at him. I wasn’t his responsibility anymore. I wanted him to just leave.

“Like this? Without saying goodbye?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest. He was standing with his legs apart; I could see the strength in his thighs. He could crush me if he wanted to; I knew how strong he was.