Savage Hunger (Savage Trilogy 1)

I scan the dresses, aware that most girls might feel spoiled by the clothes, the private stylist, even the giant rock on my hand. Most girls who didn’t just listen to their fiancé tell another woman how much he wanted to be inside her right after finding out he wants to ruin her father. I feel dirty. I feel trapped and my only escape is thinking about my text messages that haven’t gone off again. Rick is silent. I hate how much I want him to text me again.

I barely look at the dresses that feel a part of the role I’m playing in a bad movie destined to deliver a bad ending. I latch onto a simple black knee-length Chanel dress with sheer long sleeves and a V-neck. Karen returns while I’m inspecting it in a full-length mirror. She offers me her critical eye. “It fits well, but anything would. You have a cute, petite figure, but it’s a very simple choice,” she assesses, crinkling her nose.

I slip out of it and into a robe. “It’s Chanel and five thousand dollars,” I counter. “It’s not simple. Where do you want me for hair and make-up?”

She hangs the dress back on the rack, purses her lips and then points to the bathroom. Thankfully, we don’t argue over the dress. She, in fact, turns on holiday music, singing along while she works on me. I, in turn, consider my desperate need to warn my father about all of this, but that’s a near-impossible task. He’s gone. He’s overseas and any message I might send will likely be intercepted. Gabriel was CIA. He’s still connected to the CIA. I could ask Rick for help, but I reject that idea. My father told me that he became a mercenary, a paid killer. That’s not the man I knew. I can’t trust him. I did that once and it destroyed me. And besides, he’s here now, but for all I know, he’ll be gone tomorrow. He’s also got military connections. One word spoken to the wrong person and my father might suffer. I can’t go to him. In fact, the way I see it, if Rick makes Gabriel feel threatened, Gabriel may act against my father sooner than later. He’s already on the sooner than later path, per that text message I copied.

I’m back to Rick Savage needing to go away. If he sends me another text message, I won’t reply. If he shows up tonight, I’ll call security. And if none of that works, I will punch him. What I won’t do is kiss him again.

Ever.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Candace

Forty-five minutes later, I’m in the black Chanel dress, and thanks to the talented stylist, my brown hair is a mahogany silk that I could never recreate at home, flowing around my shoulders. My makeup is elegant roses and pinks with the exception of my lips, which are painted a bold red because, per Karen, I need accents to pop with such a simple dress. Following her lead, I choose a pair of red velvet pumps and a matching hip purse, telling myself it’s inspired by my makeup. My choice has nothing to do with Rick’s promise that he’ll see me tonight or his love of me in red. It certainly has nothing to do with the way the color red inspired the nickname “Candy.” I just need that pop. Karen said so. And there’s no way Rick will be at this event anyway. Security will be tight. He’ll be shut out. I wish I could say the same of myself.

“You look lovely,” Karen says. “Absolutely lovely.” She eyes her watch. “You had better head downstairs. I understand your car is picking you up right about now.”

I puff out a breath with the realization that I now have to pretend to be okay with Gabriel. I have to smile. I have to touch him and let him touch me.

“Thank you, Karen,” I say, practicing my smile because she deserves it. “You’re gifted and I appreciate you making me a recipient of those gifts.”

“If it’s true, and he runs for president and wins, you will be the most beautiful first lady of all.”

“You are too kind,” I say, my throat thick, my mouth cotton. “Thank you, again.”

“Is it true?” she nudges. “Is he running?”

“I don’t know that answer,” I say. “I don’t think he does either. Not yet.” But, I add silently, if I have my way, he will never run this country.

We laugh about this or that and too soon, I’m heading down the stairs to find Gabriel waiting below and dressed in a tuxedo. He is as handsome as ever, handsomely evil. Because that’s what he is. Evil. I will never see him any other way again, and for a moment, I think of Rick, of staring into his eyes this morning. He’s a confessed mercenary, a hired killer, and yet that’s not what I see when I’m with him. That’s not what I feel when I’m with him. I don’t know what that means. Love is blind? And I still love him?