AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“We understand each other perfectly. We’re going to be late.” She went up on tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Come on, let’s do this.”
He moved aside, and she slipped past. She grabbed her clutch and walked through the house. She slipped into the Aston and tensed when Marcus knocked on the window.
“I thought we could ride together,” he said.
“I know this meeting will go long, and I haven’t driven in a while. I’ll follow you.” She kept her voice light even though she was dying inside. He had no choice but to let her go as she reversed out of the garage.
Mickey started up the SUV and followed as she put the Aston through its paces. Her chest was so tight she could barely breathe. Sex didn’t mean anything. She, of all people, should know that. What the hell was she doing? She was treating him like a boyfriend, and he wasn’t. He had made that abundantly clear, despite living together, his possessiveness, and his gift, which now felt like a noose around her neck. That expression on his face—confusion and a hint of pity—made her insides writhe with shame.
She wasn’t sure how she made it to the casino because she didn’t remember a thing about the drive. She handed her keys to the valet and rushed in as if it was a hospital and she was there to check on a loved one. She needed to get herself under control ASAP.
“Carmen?”
She turned from the bar to find Mickey and Marcus standing behind her. She downed her Cosmopolitan and took a deep breath.
“Sorry, I was thirsty.” She slipped her arm through his. “Let’s do this.”
Marcus led her through the casino. She didn’t feel anything. Not the brush of bodies or the liquor running through her. She’d taken a crippling emotional blow and didn’t have time to get herself together.
“Carmen, you remember Khalid?” Marcus asked.
She’d been so in her head that she didn’t register Marcus leading her into a private dining room in an exclusive restaurant in the casino. The room was dimly lit. There were about twenty men in the space, most lounging near the private bar. Servers circulated with appetizers on gold platters. In the middle of the room was a table set for dinner with over-the-top arrangements and the finest china.
“Yes,” she said and gave Khalid her hand.
He grasped her chilled fingers. “You’re more beautiful than I remember.”
Neither the smoldering look he cast nor the compliment penetrated. Oh, God, she didn’t want to be here. The last thing she wanted to do was mingle and be polite when her insides were bleeding. She felt as if her chest had been raked with razor sharp claws. She needed time to pack her wounds.
“Thank you.”
Khalid registered her dismissive tone, and his eyes narrowed. Marcus gripped her waist.
“Come, let’s get a drink,” Marcus said, and they trooped to the bar. He leaned in close. “Can you handle this?”
Pride saved her. She straightened her spine and buried her pain. Marcus didn’t mean to hurt her. She was the one who forgot the rules. Casual sex and they were supposed to remain friends. He kept up his end, and she would do the same even if it killed her.
“Yes,” she said and patted his hand. “I’m fine.”
She was introduced to every man present. They were all tied to Khalid in some way and most from Dubai. Marcus sat at the head of the table with she and Khalid on either side of him. Khalid’s companions spoke in multiple languages. The man next to her didn’t bother to engage her in conversation, which suited her just fine since she wouldn’t have been able to feign interest. Instead, she focused on the food, kept her expression polite, and occasionally contributed to Marcus and Khalid’s talk of the city. She sensed a distinct sexist undertone in the air, which wasn’t surprising. Her attire could be a factor in their opinion of her, but if they wanted to do business in Sin City, they better get used to women who dressed like her and were still intelligent.
When the first man stood from the table, she was the next on her feet. The men passed around cigars and planned to visit the tower tomorrow. She gravitated to the bar and asked for a shot of tequila, which made the bartender’s brows rise, but he didn’t question her. She was knocking it back when she felt someone come up behind her.
“You didn’t call me.”
Shesowasn’t in the mood to be nice to the billionaire Marcus admired. The loaded glances he cast her throughout dinner made her want to stab him in the eye with her fork. She didn’t have the capacity to be civil or flirty, which left only blunt honesty.
She turned to face him and saw Marcus in the middle of a huddle of Khalid’s cronies. The room was filled with servers clearing the table, and a haze of smoke hovered in the air. Khalid was handsome, urbane, and rich. That was enough for most women but not her.
“I’m not interested,” she said.
She felt a spark of satisfaction when his eyes flared. Apparently, he wasn’t used to honesty. Well, they were both experiencing a novel experience tonight. He was having a woman turn him down, and she was being told she needed to stay in the friend zone. Perfect.
“Excuse me?”
She raised a brow. “I think you speak enough English to know what that means.”
He took a step closer. With her heels, they were the same height. She was itching for a fight, and it seemed Khalid would oblige.
