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Broken Saint

Page 49

by E.M. Gayle

"Not so fast," he growled, snagging me by the hand and pulling me back to the bike. He took my mouth in a hard kiss that brought everything back. The desire, the sadness, and the overwhelming grief. By the time he let me go and roared off into the night after a promise to see me soon, I stumbled to my suite in a daze.

As I entered my residence, I should have expected Ronin to pop up again. He'd made it clear he wasn't going away. But when the light clicked on, I didn't even turn to look. I simply wasn't in the mood for his games again. I crossed to the liquor cabinet in the opposite corner and poured myself a healthy glass of vodka. After several swallows and that horrible burn from it churning in my stomach, I spoke.

"Don't start with me again, Ronin. It's been a long day, and I need a break."

When he didn't answer right away, I ignored him again and disappeared into the master suite and made a beeline for the bathroom. I was going to have a nice long soak, wherein I would have a little solo pity party. Then I would pick myself up and brush off the self-pity and get back to work. One way or another, I was determined to make tomorrow a great day. First, though, some of my designs needed some small tweaks and working on them would give me the opportunity to think about my other situation.

Before I forgot he was here, and he did something stupid like barge in on me naked in a tub, I decided to go and see what the infuriating man wanted and get whatever nonsense he had in mind out of his head. I wasn't in the mood for a full-blown confrontation about how we weren't getting married, but something had to be said. I stepped back into the living room, glanced in the direction of Ronin's chair, and froze.

What the hell?

For a second, I thought for sure that my eyes had to be playing tricks on me. The man sitting in that chair absolutely was not Ronin. Or Rock.

"What are you doing here?" I nearly choked on the words getting them out. I was so shocked to see him I couldn't think straight, let alone form any full-fledged words. It was if five years had not passed and I was standing in front of him all over again about to be sacrificed to another man.

"Hello, daughter."