Cruel Beloved - Page 22

I step over to the wall where a photograph of a man is hanging. He looks much like Whiskey, except older.

“That’s my father. This was his business.”

I notice the phone is down on his desk, and he’s watching me.

“Are you close?” I ask, stepping away and over to his desk. My fingers run along the hard wood until they come to the corner.

“We were. He’s dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

Whiskey shrugs and closes something on his computer before he looks back up to me.

“You didn’t answer my calls. Again.”

“I was busy.”

“So I heard.” He stands from his desk, and now that he does, he’s closer to me, only inches away. He leans in, so we are even closer, and I can smell his cologne. It’s a masculine scent mixed with something sweet. I like it. I like it a lot.

“Your father called, asked what he needed to pay for.”

“Did he?” is all I manage to say back breathlessly.

“He did. I don’t want money from your father.”

“It’s not for you, it is for our wedding. It’s what a father does,” I argue back.

His lip lifts and he shakes his head. “No. I will be paying for it all. I won’t be taking one dime from that man.”

I heard his accent, it got thicker when he got mad. I’ve never noticed it before.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” he asks, but just before I can tell him, the door opens, and heels click on his floor. I turn my head the same time he does, and when I do, I see her. Blonde hair as white as the clouds in the sky. A dress—I try to not laugh, but I’m not all that successful—that’s so short I can almost see the color of her panties. And eyes so blue you’d think you were staring at a deep ocean.

Her eyes flick from myself to Whiskey, then they stick on him. “He told me, but I didn’t believe it.” Her eyes fall to my hand where that ring sits, and I have the urge to move it around to hide it away from her eyes, because it’s as if I’m physically hurting her. “So, it’s true. You are engaged?”

“Serena,” Whiskey says, but I already realized it’s her. The way Whiskey says the name it’s the first time I’ve heard feelings in his voice, and they are directed at her. Serena’s hands clutch her sides, and tears threaten to break free, but somehow, she manages to hold them back.

“I loved you. I would have given you all of me,” she says, as if I’m not standing between the two of them, and it’s as if she’s forgotten I have his ring on my finger.

“I know,” he replies.

A single tear leaks free from her eye and runs down her cheek.

Whiskey moves from next to me, and in a few strides, I feel as if I’m the interloper in this room. It’s funny because I am, and I know it. His hands touch her face, and he wipes away the tear with his thumb. Serena’s eyes stare right into Whiskey, with such love I wonder how he can walk away from that. From her. Clearly, she loves him. Clearly, he feels something for her too. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be holding her like she might break.

“Why, Corton? Why?” she says it with such pain laced in her tone. She seems to remember I’m here and looks back at me.

“Carla, it’s time you leave.”

Whiskey pulls her face back to his, and she looks to him with hope.

I don’t argue, she can have him.

I have no care factor when it comes to Whiskey.

13

Whiskey

“Who is she?” Serena asks the minute the door closes behind Carla, and I drop my hands from her face.

“I met her before you.”

“And what, you love her?”

“No,” I answer truthfully.

She looks at me confused. “That makes no sense, Corton. You either love her or me. Why pick her?” she asks.

“You can’t win this one, Serena. It’s Carla I need to marry.” I don’t want to argue with her, but I know this is what she wants.

“No, it’s not. Marry me. She doesn’t even love you. I could see that by the way she looks at you. She may want you to kiss her, but that’s it.”

I try not to smirk at the thought of Carla wanting me to kiss her. I want to do exactly that, bite those fucking lips and claim her damn mouth. The urge is getting stronger each time she shows me her fiery sass.

“You should go.” I turn to walk back to the desk.

“Marry me, Corton. Please.” Her hands touch me, and she’s immediately pulling at my belt. Serena’s hand quickly goes down my pants until she has my cock in her hand. She strokes it and leans up close, so her lips are at my ear. “I know you love it when I wrap my lips around your cock. Let me do it again, Corton. I’ll make you remember why it’s me you should be marrying.” Serena bites my ear, my eyes travel up, and when they do, I notice Carla is at the door looking in through the glass with a look of absolute disgust written all over her face.

Tags: T.L. Smith Billionaire Romance
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