SIXTEEN
ELLE
“You think this is funny?” I ask.
He’s still chuckling, but his expression is so frigid, I shiver. “Ending our agreement is not an option.”
I start to argue, but he covers my lips with his thumb. “If you return the money—then what? Did you stop to think about what would happen next? Would you go back to jiggling your ass for tips at night while fetching coffee for some small-time editor during the day?”
“Why do you care?”
“I just do.” He narrows his dark brown eyes into tight slits. “Unless you’ve gone back to your father to beg for his forgiveness for whatever the fuck it is you did to make him angry?”
“God, no!” I cross my arms over my chest. “But if I had, what would it matter to you?”
“Because then I’d be wrong about you. And I fucking loathe being wrong about people.”
“Yeah? Well, me too.” I feel a small wiggle of satisfaction at the way his gaze softens. Good. I hope he feels awful. I hope he tosses and turns so much at night, his sweat ruins his expensive sheets. That his tiny heart explodes from the pressure of remorse. Wishful thinking, of course, because the man is too damn cold to actually perspire and there’s a 99.9 percent chance he has a black void where his heart should be.
“You know, you could have at least apologized,” I whisper.
“Do you want me to be honest? No filter?”
“What do you think?”
He leans into me, and I suck in my bottom lip so he won’t see that it’s trembling. “I’m sorry you found out. I’m sorry you left New York before I had a chance to taste your body and fuck you until my dick’s content. I’m sorry that we’re wasting time by talking now because the desire to possess you has become an absolute necessity since you walked out on me. I’m sorry that you feel hurt by what I did. But, Ms. Courtney?”
“Senator Delaney?” I murmur, placing my hands flat on the dashboard as if to steady myself for whatever he’s about to tell me.
“I’m not sorry for going to extremes to get what I want.” Cocking his head to the side, he smiles wryly. “After all, didn’t you do the same when you agreed to our arrangement?”
Raking my hands through my black hair, I let out an angry cry. “Are you kidding?” When his face remains remarkably calm, I grab him by the collar. One of the buttons pops off, tumbling to the floor, but he never breaks eye contact with me. “I agreed to our arrangement because you went to extremes to begin with! You told Chad I was taking an internship with the representative from Delaware. I don’t even know who the hell that is! And you—you knew nothing about me when you did it. What kind of … person … does that to someone they don’t know?”
“A man who decides he wants a woman the second he sees her.”
“You’re a psycho!” My head spins, so I clamp my eyes shut until the space around me stops whirling. I draw in a shallow breath. “Did you plan it like this from the beginning?”
When I open my eyes, I find him staring back at me. The edges of his lips twist, but then his brow creases. Whatever he was about to tell me is forgotten as he drawls, “Fuck, you’re beautiful when your angry, Elle. Beautiful and vicious and mine.”
I seethe. “Why would you want someone who doesn’t desire you back?”
A smile breaks his bronze face. He rubs his thumb over the backs of my fingers clutching his shirt. “You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met, and I’ve met enough to fill hell a couple times.” Moving his hand to the back of my head, he buries his fingers in my hair. “I’ve felt your body, Elle. I’ve listened to you stutter through the flood of bullshit excuses you give yourself.”
He pulls my mouth so close to his I feel the stubble on his chin and the flow of his breathing on my skin. My breath is shattered by the painful reality of my situation—I really do desire this man, this corrupt creature I know nothing about.
Even betrayal hadn’t changed that, and I hate myself for that. Hate myself for being drawn to a man like Graham Delaney.
Clearing my throat, I shake my head. “What if you’re wrong about me and there’s no going back now that I know you’ve fooled me?”
“Have you gone back to work at 202?”
“No,” I say, although Janelle has called me a few times since I last spoke to her. I lick my lips, and his tongue clashes with mine. When I inadvertently lean in for more, he chuckles, drawing me away from him by my hair. “What does me not going back to 202 have to do with anything?”
“Have you gone to your school to try to get the money I paid back?”
“Where are you going with this?” At his stern expression, I swish my head from side to side. “No, I haven’t. Because it’s Christmas break. I know you don’t understand that.”
“I understand Christmas,” he says pleasantly, “it’s just not a happy time for me and I’d rather spend my holiday working.”
It’s meant to be a joke, but there’s an edge to his voice that reaches inside me, grasping my ribcage and twisting my heart. “Graham, what happened to—”
“We’re talking about you, Ms. Courtney, not me.” He smirks, and I swallow hard at the flash of emotion in his dark eyes. For the first time, it’s not smugness or irritation but something else. “So because it’s Christmas, I’m willing to discuss the terms of our agreement. Now, run back to Daddy and his camera crew and as soon as you’re done, get some rest. Tomorrow night you’ll come to my place. Nine sharp. The doorman will be expecting you as Ms. Sutton.”
Wondering why he’s not demanding I come to his condo tonight, I nibble on the inside of my bottom lip. “And the terms we’re discussing—is it because you realize you’re wrong about me?”
“But I’m not wrong about you.”
“And what if I don’t come?”
Tightening his grip on my hair, he trails his mouth down the column of my throat before tilting my gaze to look directly into his dark eyes. I gasp for air. “I’ll see you at nine tomorrow night.”
After my volunteer work is complete, and my dad gives me another ultimatum about Christmas, my plan is to lock myself in my apartment for at least twenty-four hours. For the first half of the next day, Dad calls me back to back, but after the ninth or tenth time when I send his call straight to voicemail, he takes the hint. Despite talking to my brother and grandparents on the phone, this is the first Christmas I’ve ever spent alone. After what had happened Thanksgiving, it’s admittedly a welcome change—one that gives me plenty of time to make up my mind about Graham.
When I finally venture into the outside world around eight o’clock, it’s not to crawl back to Senator Sexy-Ass but for sustenance.
I’m starving.
And I’ve decided that Graham can screw off.
Blake calls while I’m driving. “You answered too fast. You didn’t spend the day by yourself, did you?” she complains. When I tell her that I had a very enjoyable Christmas with Bear Grylls, she snorts. “You should have just stayed in New York. Then you could have come home with me, to Boston. I would’ve loved having you here!”
“I wish. My job with Mitchell Kyler doesn’t start until Friday, and I spent way too much money flying home from New York after what happened with that dick—” I cut myself off, mentally slapping the hell out of myself for telling her so much. Blake releases a noise that lets me know I’ve piqued her curiosity.
“Ahh ... so you did come because of a guy?”
“It was—” Desperately, I search my brain for a way to clean up the mess I’ve made. Sighing, I shrug. I opened myself up to her questions. The least I can do is be honest with my closest friend. “The reason I was there was business. I made a deal with someone, but it fell through.”
“What kind of deal required you to go to New York only to leave a few hours later?”
Inhaling deeply, I park my Fusion in the lot across the street from my favorite sushi restaurant. “The sexual kind,” I admit sheepishly.
Blake makes a choking noise. “Fucking A, no wonder you looked at Colton like he was an ant! First the Bathroom Bandit and now business booty calls in New York?” Then she gasps dramatically like she’s just made the biggest breakthrough of her life. “It’s the same guy, isn’t it? And don’t you dare sugarcoat things!”
Tapping my nails on the steering wheel, I give her the CliffsNotes version of my arrangement with Graham, leaving out his name and the fact he’s a senator. When I’m finished, she squeals. “I always miss the good stuff when I leave town! You’re all Julia Roberts-ing it up with some hot older guy, and I’m over here shoving more cake in my mouth. Why didn’t you just tell me what was going on the other day?”
I roll my eyes, but it’s not hard to picture my petite blonde friend eating cake and swooning because she’s imagining every pivotal Pretty Woman scene with me as the leading lady. “Because he screwed me over. It’s over between us. As soon as I’m able to, I plan to get his money back so I won’t ever have to see him again.”
Except for when I flip through channels. Or when his devilishly handsome face is on the front page of newspapers. Or if we happen to run into each other again while I’m having lunch with my mother.
Damn. There really is no escaping Graham Delaney.
“Aw, don’t be like that!” Blake pouts. “At least hear what the man has to say. Plus, you can kind of look at him getting you sacked from 202 in a positive way, you know?”
I frown. “And that positive ray of light would be?”
“Well, working at 202 would have given you enough to pay tuition, but what about other expenses? Now, all the money you earn working for Wes’s crazy dad can cover everything else.”
Leave it to Blake to find the sweet spot in every bad situation. “Is this you reminding me that my part of the rent is due at the end of the month?”
“No, but this is a roommate service announcement for you to remember to be rational. Obviously, you’re attracted to the guy—no amount of money would have made you say yes to getting felt up in a bathroom if you weren’t—so go with it. When it’s all over, and you both have what you want, then you move on.”
Remembering my chance encounter with Graham in the pink bathroom at Monroe’s while my mother and brother waited for me in the dining room, I twist my lips skeptically. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It is.” She yells at someone in the background before groaning. “I better go. We’re about to do the white elephant gift exchange, and apparently, they can’t start without me. Just remember, think with your head and not your heart. You’ve got this, Elle.”
Easier said than done.