I’m a complete prick, and I know it the moment I turn to see Carolyn’s face when she emerges from the bathroom, her hair wet, cheeks pink, a smile on her face. I’ve known it for a long time. I didn’t think I’d be trotting out my usual asshole tendencies to get rid of a woman this soon after arriving back in New York.

This is exactly why I didn’t want to get involved with anyone.

My life is a mess.

After what happened with Elisa….

The Italians didn’t publicize what happened after Elisa died. After the last time an American was accused of a heinous crime on Italian soil, it became an international fiasco. The officials I talked to wanted no part of that.

Carolyn’s not going to want any part of that either.

The news is going to come out sooner or later. I’ve attracted too much attention by even being in the city.

More than that, more than all of it, I can’t take the risk.

It makes me furious, the way my mind recoils from the thought of getting deeply involved with another woman, but I can’t deny it. Last night was unbelievable. Carolyn’s body fits to mine like we were made for each other from the start. Every movement she makes is exactly what I want, what I need, in that moment. There’s no way she’s not right for me.

Which means she’s wrong for me.

The end game is always a sucker punch, and one more minute with her will mean I’m in over my head.

It’s not worth the inevitable gut-wrenching loss.

I’m short with her. And then, when she’s leaving, her face flaming red, shoulders tensed up toward her ears, I drive home the final blow.

“Carolyn?”

She turns back toward me, and there’s a glimmer of hope in her face.

So what do I do?

I crush it underneath my foot like one of the expensive baubles on the bookshelves.

“We—” I don’t want to be saying this, but it’ll be better for her in the long run if I say it now and spare her the fallout. I wave my hand in the air between us, dismissing the intensity of what happened last night. “We probably shouldn’t do this again.”

Her chin quivers, then her mouth curves downward into a semblance of a sneer that doesn’t quite convince me. “No shit.”

Then she turns and jams her thumb into the call button for the elevator. The doors slide open, and Carolyn Banks doesn’t look back as she steps inside and presses the button for the lobby, with delicate care this time. Her dark eyes are blazing, but she doesn’t meet my gaze. She doesn’t tell me with words to screw off. It’s clear as day.

As soon as the doors hide her from view, I lose it.

Silently, my fists clenched in front of my mouth, I double over.

What was I thinking, letting her get to me like that?

What am I, a glutton for pain?

Is that what I want out of life, loss after loss because I can’t resist a gorgeous woman at a dining club?

She’s not any woman, the little voice in the back of my mind says, insistently, repeatedly, until I drown it out with another movie that I watch but don’t see.

She’s not.

What happened between us last night wasn’t a one-night stand, as much as I wanted it to be meaningless and casual. There’s no denying it.

So I won’t deny it.

But I will move on.

I have no other choice.

I dig my phone out of my pocket. I don’t know when I put on this pair of sweatpants—expensive and not worth the price—but I’m a mess.

I can’t go on like this.

Change of plans.

Noah responds like he’s been hovering over his phone, waiting for me to summon him. Probably he has. God knows I pay him enough.

What can I do, boss?

Call the realtor. Have her list my penthouse for sale immediately. And have her send over a list of her top three available properties. I want to be moving on this by tomorrow.

It’s the weekend, but she’s not going to care. With enough money at your disposal, business hours have no meaning.

Consider it done.

I’d call her myself, but before I call anyone, I need to get a grip.

I’m not the kind of man to sit around, holed up in the world’s most expensive hideout. I’m not the kind of man who’s going to let his chewed-up-and-spit-out heart make him into some pussy who can’t face the world.

Everything from my past life here, the life before Elisa, has to go.

There’s a thrum of electricity in my chest. A clean slate. A new life. Those paparazzi will find me. The news will break. But this time, I’m going to be in control of what happens to me. I’m not going to sneak past them into my old apartment. I’m going to walk with my head high into my new place, and let the chips fall where they may.

And I’m not, under any circumstances, going to think about Carolyn Banks, and her perfect ass, and her unbelievable breasts, and the way her dark hair curled down against my chest, and the way she moaned when I stroked her, and the way she shuddered and shook against me when she came….

I’m not going to think about her for another second.

Last night was a mistake. A sexy mistake, for sure, but a mistake nonetheless. And it’s over now. It’s going to stay over.

I stand up from the couch, turn the TV off, and stride into the master bathroom, stripping off the rumpled clothes.

I’m going to take a shower. I’m going to shave. I’m going to get dressed.

Then I’m going to take the rest of my life in my fists, and I’m going to make it mine.