Chapter 349
Chapter 350
Chapter 350
Some of the anger simmering inside him seemed to dissolve. After a moment’s pause, he brushed the sweat from her forehead, his touch oddly gentle as he pulled away, patience straining in his voice. “Little Nine, you p>
“Can I go now p>
Elissa cut him off before he could finish. Her tone was icy, as if they hadn’t just shared the most intimate moment two people could. The distance in her voice was unmistakable.
Without waiting for a response, she forced herself to ignore the pain that made her legs tremble, climbed briskly out of bed, and gathered her clothes from the floor with practiced efficiency.
She looked every bit the perfect lover–detached, self–sufficient, not expecting or wanting anything
more.
If Rowan truly saw her as just that, he might have found her independence convenient, even admirable. But now, as the soft rustle of her movements echoed from the hallway, he felt nothing but frustration.
She wanted to cut him off, just like that.
Fine.
Whoever gives in first is the loser.
The bedroom was still bathed in dim, golden light. Rowan took a few deep breaths, trying to steady his temper. Then he swung his long legs off the bed, flicked on the main light, and glanced toward the door where she’d vanished. His irritation only grew.
He bent to scoop up his discarded clothes, ready to toss them in the laundry basket, but his eyes caught on a dark red stain on the sheets. For a split second, his mind went blank. When the realization hit, it thundered through him, leaving him rooted to the spot.
It hadn’t been his imagination.
He snapped out of it, quickly threw on his clothes, and rushed out of the bedroom without a second thought.
Every step was agony for Elissa.
It had gone on too long. She could feel the raw burn on her skin, every movement a reminder of what had just happened.
Still, she moved fast.
If she lingered, she might lose her resolve.
Nine years ago, even after he’d tossed her aside without a shred of dignity, she’d still clung to him, sobbing, begging him not to leave her.
Now, she was the one pulling away.
But for them, it was better to rip off the bandage quickly, rather than drag out the pain and keep
hurting each other.
She opened the front door, about to step out, when Elissa realized she couldn’t even tell where she hurt more–her legs, her heart, or the ache in her chest that seemed to hollow her out.
Pathetic.
How weak she’d become.
It had only been a few months, and somehow she was already hooked on him again.
She wiped away the dampness on her cheeks and, steeling herself, reached back to shut the apartment door. Just then, the elevator doors slid open.
Elissa froze, instinctively wanting to retreat inside, but Frank’s startled voice stopped her. “Elissa?” Her lips were red and swollen, her dress rumpled and creased, clear signs of what had happened. And she was coming out of another man’s apartment–Frank didn’t need anyone to spell it out for
him.
He’d just come upstairs to return some paperwork Elissa had left behind. He never expected to see her like this.
The moment Frank noticed the tear tracks on her face, a wave of anger crashed over him.
Rowan.
That bastard–he’d forced her, hadn’t he?
Elissa hesitated mid–step, just as the master bedroom door opened behind her. Rowan’s expression, already taut with tension, turned stormy the instant he saw Frank standing outside the door.
Any trace of tenderness vanished from his eyes.
Crossing the living room in long strides, Rowan snatched his suit jacket from the couch and draped it around Elissa’s shoulders, shielding her from Frank’s gaze.
Rowan was nearly six foot three; his jacket swallowed Elissa completely, hiding every sign of distress and shutting Frank out.
Frank narrowed his eyes, anger boiling over as he snapped, “Rowan, you watched her grow up. You’re a monster p>
Bang!
Tanya Foster, working late, stepped out of the elevator–just in time to hear the heavy slam of the door.