Necromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts 6) - Page 37

He got to his feet, his brow furrowed. “Alice—”

She grabbed her coat and bag. “I’ll make up for tonight, I promise. I just need some time.”

She rushed to the door before Henry could say another word and escaped into the cool night. Lucky for her, a cab was parked on the curb.

She jumped in. “Go. Quickly, please.”

She glanced through the back window to see Henry walk out onto the pavement and stare after the taxi.

“Where to, miss?” the driver asked.

She contemplated the answer for all of one second. “The Ritz, please.”

On the way there, she thought about all the possible reasons why Ivan would’ve pulled out of the talent contest after he’d won. At the time, he’d wanted to get away from his foster family as much as she’d wanted to get away from him, only her dad had the money to send her away. Ivan didn’t. He’d worked hard after school to enter an art academy and had gotten his first break with a gig at the Apollo Theater. It hadn’t been smooth sailing for him. With the scholarship, he could’ve entered one of the most prestigious art academies in London, and his career would’ve been made. If only he’d told her.

Her reason for entering the contest was to make her mother proud, to show her mom she was worthy of her love and approval. After her mom’s suicide, her dad walking out on her, and Ivan treating her like she didn’t exist, fleeing to London had seemed like a good idea, but once there, she’d quickly abandoned her dream of following in her mom’s footsteps. All she’d wanted was a normal life.

With her heart beating in her throat, she got out in front of Ivan’s hotel and announced herself at the reception desk. The concierge gave her his professional smile as he phoned Ivan’s room, spoke briefly, and then escorted her to the elevator. When she exited on Ivan’s floor, he was leaning in his open door wearing only jeans, his perfectly defined chest naked.

He gave her a sultry smile as she approached. “Back for more, already? You have no idea how happy that makes me.”

Her cutting look had no effect on him. He bent down to kiss her, but she turned her head away, making him freeze in the act.

“May I come in?”

He stepped aside and motioned for her to enter. “There’s no place I’d rather have you.”

She walked into the lounge and stopped in the middle of the floor. The television was on and earphones lay on the sofa. The door clicked behind her, closing her into the space with him. Even if she couldn’t hear his bare feet on the carpet, she could feel him closing the distance between them. He had an unnerving effect on her that always heated her body, no matter the circumstances, and tonight she hated him for it. Despite the heat under her skin, her heart felt cold. She wrapped her arms around herself and turned to face him.

He stood close, regarding her with puzzled amusement.

Everything inside of her shook. She needed answers, and she wanted them now. “Why did you withdraw from the talent contest when you’d won?”

His body turned rigid, and his face paled. For the first time since seeing him again, he dropped his act, allowing her to see behind the I-don’t-give-a-damn mask.

His voice was eerily soft when he asked, “Who told you?”

“It doesn’t matter. I want to know why you dropped out.”

“It matters. Tell me.”

“Someone with enough decency to protect me from news like this being published.”

“Ah, it must be the editor.” He narrowed his eyes. “He cares? Is that what he told you? Did you tell him you’re mine?”

“You’re selfish, Ivan. This isn’t about you and your unjustified or inappropriate proprietorial feelings. Answer my question.”

He shoved his hands into his back pockets and simply stared at her. After some time, he said, “I knew you wanted it more than me.”

She already knew the truth, but hearing him say it hurt like hell. He could’ve told her. He didn’t have to let her believe she’d won.

Tears blurred her vision. “Nobody wanted it more than you. You wanted to get away from your family so badly—”

“Foster family,” he said, his tone hard.

“Why?”

“You want to hear I loved you? Is it because this time around I can’t tell you what you want? Is that why you want me to say it, so you can play the words around in your mind like a broken record, pretend they’re still true, and tell it to yourself while I fuck you?”

Her voice trembled. “You’re mean.” A dull ache pulsed in her temples. “I wish you hadn’t.”

Uncertainty showed in his eyes. “I thought it would make you happy.”

“You don’t get it.”

“Then explain it to me, dammit.”

“I believed I’d won.”

He gripped her arm hard, his patience seeming to fail. “I did you a favor. What is so bad about that?”

Tags: Charmaine Pauls Seven Forbidden Arts Fantasy
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