Craving You

The asshole had rattled her to the core, and she hadn’t been able to shake the consternation of seeing him and knowing that he now lived in the same city.

The island of Manhattan was only so big. Chances were very good she’d run into Corey again, as he’d indicated. That freaked her out, mostly because she was still so enraged over their volatile split that she wasn’t entirely sure she could keep herself from inflicting bodily harm on the man. Or stop the tremors of fury that still ran through her.

Tague continued. “My father had said he wouldn’t give a confirmation either way until today. I’m still trying to dissect that, figure out why he needed additional time.”

“Maybe he was waiting to see how things went at the party. See whom you brought. Determine if you’re following in firm footsteps or being too much of a rebel.” She said this glibly, but her stomach instantly churned as though she’d latched onto a viable thought. Worse, visions of June Mason flitted through her mind, along with her haughty tone and that whole horrific bathroom scene L.L. had had to endure.

She turned to Tague and raised a brow. “If you told your assistant you had a date, and arrangements were made for me to sit next to you, could it have gotten back to your father? You had to give my name so place cards could be created. He could have easily learned Chip represents me—and why. What my business is.”

“So he kept me on pins and needles because he didn’t approve of my dinner mate?” He contemplated this a few moments. Then let out a low growl. “I wouldn’t put it past him. And he likely didn’t tell my mother so that when it came up, she could be genuinely shocked and get some mileage out of it.”

“Not to mention, they invited Brianna Carlisle along. More suitable companionship for their son? Perhaps they thought I’d crack under the pressure and slip out before dinner was even served. Feels like we’re all just pawns for them.”

“I don’t play that game, remember?”

“I’m not saying you do. I’m saying they do.”

Tague held her gaze as his mind clearly cranked on what she’d said. Then he laughed. Sharp and annoyed.

“When it comes to the Tokyo venture,” he told her, “I’m the one who’s going to make the final decision on what happens. When it comes to us… Well, that’s one-hundred percent between you and me. No one else, baby. That I promise you.”

He stood and hauled her up against him. L.L. gasped at how his firm tone and strong embrace held such conviction. Like they were a sure thing and nothing could stand in their way.

Not his family…or an ocean.

Which made her smile.

Until he said, “Enough of all that. How was your day?”

The smile faded. “Horrific,” she admitted.

Tague frowned. “You design sex toys…how bad could it have possibly been?”

“I seriously don’t want to talk about it.”

“Loralai.” His voice took on that possessive edge that made her clit tingle and her heart pick up a few extra beats. “What happened?”

She still boiled with anger that Corey had tracked her down this morning. That he’d pretended there was no bad blood between them. Or was it that she’d meant so little to him in the grand scheme of things that he couldn’t be bothered to actually realize there was bad blood between them?

What a shit.

“Baby?” Tague prompted.

She said, “My ex-boyfriend was waiting for me outside of the coffee shop today. He saw the pictures of us in the paper from the party.”

Tague eyed her closely. “And?”

“And…” She resisted the urge to scream in utter frustration. “Apparently, he’s moved to the city and is recording his next CD here.”

Releasing her, Tague took a couple steps backward. Dragged a hand down his face. “He upset you. That’s why you’ve been so pensive since I arrived.”

“Last person I ever wanted to see again. Like…ever.” Pain lanced through her. Not so much related to the breakup, but how cavalier Corey had been this morning—after everything he’d put her through. He didn’t have the right to act as though they were long-lost buds. Or tell her she was beautiful.

Tague took her by the hand and led her into the living room, where there was a cozy fire in the hearth. He settled on the sofa with her next to him and extracted his cell from his pocket and hit a speed-dial number.

When his call connected, he said, “Sherry, will you please order from Fenore and have dinner delivered?” He provided the address to L.L.’s apartment. “Thank you.” He killed the call and returned the phone to his pocket.

L.L.’s jaw slackened. “First of all, Fenore delivers?”