Bad Boy Saint (Bad Boy 1)

"Jesus Christ," I heard Hunter mutter. He finally glanced in my direction and saw me standing there, my arms held back behind me by Mr. Bodyguard One. Hunter's expression was icy.

Full of hatred.

"Sorry, Mr. Saint," Bodyguard Two said when he reached Hunter. Hunter stood and buttoned his suit jacket. He took in a visible breath as if he was trying to control his anger and then said something to the blonde woman, who turned to glance at me, a frown on her pretty face.

Then, he walked casually over to me.

He gave me a cold stare, his eyes moving over my body and finally resting on my face. I was totally upset by then, my breathing heavy, and I felt close to tears. I was sure my face was beet red from embarrassment, but I had to talk to him.

"Hunter, I need to talk to you," I managed, trying to meet his eyes but he seemed intent on avoiding mine. "It's about Graham."

"What makes you think I care about anything to do with you and your family?" he said, his voice steely.

"Graham asked me to come and speak with you," I said, not wanting to reveal everything in front of the two bodyguards. "Can we go somewhere private?"

"Graham thinks he can send you to me like some kind of peace offering?" Hunter said, his blue eyes half-hooded. "I'm not biting. Now, I'm busy." He motioned to the bodyguard who still held my arms. "Take her outside."

"Hunter, please!" I said, my voice finally breaking, tears springing to my eyes. "Graham's in the hospital. I need to talk to you in private."

He turned back and finally met my eyes – really looked in them for a change.

God, he was beautiful. His jaw so square, a tiny cleft in his chin, straight nose despite fighting for years, light blue eyes and thick eyelashes. His golden-brown hair was longish and fell onto his cheek and down behind his neck.

He gestured to the bodyguard with his chin. "Let her go," he said. Then, he turned to the back of the building and started walking. "Follow me," was all he said.

I straightened my dress and followed him, barely able to keep up due to my high heels and ineptitude in walking while wearing them. Hunter went through a door to the back, past a kitchen filled with chefs and cooks in white uniforms who were busy pumping out appetizers. People nodded to Hunter as he passed, showing deference to the boss. They looked at me with curiosity.

We went farther back into the bowels of the building, down a long dim hallway to the business office.

"Hunter, I'm sorry to bother you but--."

He held out his hand to stop me from talking. When he opened a door to a darkened room, I was a little afraid to follow him in. I stood just outside the door and peered in, watching as he went to a desk and turned on a banker's lamp, the brass shade casting a dim glow over the room.

"For God's sake, come inside," he said and came back to the door, grabbed my arm, pulling me in.

He was angry. I could see it in his face. Usually beautiful, his light blue eyes were now dark with anger. He was still the most desirable man I had ever seen.

In that moment, as we stood only inches from each other, his face shoved next to mine, I remembered another night when he'd been even closer. A night when his expression had been one of pleasure and affection, instead of contempt and hatred.

My breath caught in my throat, and tears sprang to my eyes.

"Quit with the tears," he said dryly. "I'm not moved by tears. I don't care if Graham's dying. Why would I care? My brother died right in front of my fucking eyes, Celia, or did you forget that little fact?"

"I could never forget," I said, my voice breaking. "I'm so sorry…"

I covered my face with my hands and sobbed for a moment, and he did nothing and said nothing. I was so overwhelmed with emotion, fear for Graham and fear for myself, guilt for how I treated Hunter years ago and for Spencer’s role in Sean's death, and fear of Hunter's wrath…

I wiped my cheeks and watched him. He slipped his hands in his pockets and glanced away, not looking at me, a muscle in his jaw pulsing.

"Hunter borrowed money from a loan shark to pay back my inheritance that he lost on a bad investment. He thought he could turn it around and pay me back and the loan shark, but he couldn't and they beat him up," I said, the whole story pouring out of me between sobs. "They broke his nose, broke his jaw, broke his leg, and punched out his teeth. He has internal injuries and a serious concussion and will be in rehab for weeks. They carved 7 Days on his chest with a knife and said if he didn't pay the money back by Wednesday night, they'd kill him. Then, they'll come after me for his insurance money."

"Oh, yeah?" Hunter said and tapped his foot, not looking at me. "That’s what happens when you invest money that you can't afford to lose. I thought Graham was smarter than that. I guess not."

"Look, I didn’t want to come to you," I said, frustrated that he was so uncaring, "but Graham insisted that you were the only one who could help."

"Yeah," he said, and turned to look in the other direction, his breathing faster now, like he was close to losing it. "It must have been hard for you to come to me and ask for help. You couldn’t get me out of your life fast enough. Funny, but I thought there was always something special between us. I guess I was a huge fool."