She didn’t want to deal with this right now. She had a job to do that didn’t include hiding out in the bathroom. Taking a deep breath, she washed her hands just to buy a few more seconds and then exited the restroom.
“Oh!”
Angela bumped right into a solid frame of muscle. The body in the black tux was dark-skinned, much like her. She looked up to find herself face to face with Omar.
“Hey, sexy,” he murmured, a wolfish smile on his lean, handsome face. He had a goatee that she’d found faintly irritating while they’d been seeing; maybe because he always stroked on it when he had that appraising look on his face, like he was looking over a slab of meat.
“Omar! Such a surprise,” she said and tried to look happy to see him. “Uh, look, I have to get back to my date, so...”
“Hey, hold up baby,” he said quickly, as he took her elbow in an intimate grip. She turned to him again, trying to hide her irritation.
“I’d have thought we had more than the ‘hi and bye’ history. How about showing a brother some love, huh Annabelle?”
“It’s Angela,” she said disgustedly, snatching her arm away. “At least I had the decency to remember your first name. And guess what? We’re ‘history’ for a reason.”
Omar’s full lips slanted scathingly. “Yeah. I always wondered about that but now I know. You like them rich and looking like Shrek after a run-in with Wolverine.”
It took a few seconds for Angela to realize he was talking about Shane. Her eyes narrowed and she shook her head pityingly. “If you’re looking for someone whose defects deserve to be the brunt of bad jokes, all you need is a mirror.”
She made to walk away smartly after that comeback but Omar wasn’t having it. This time he grabbed her again, his hold was punishing. “Now look here, you b...”
But he didn’t get to finish as she slapped that word out of his mouth before he could finish it. The act was automatic and she felt an instant satisfaction seeing the shock on Omar’s face after the ringing smack that had had her whole arm behind it.
Angela was far from the violent type but this time she would gladly chuck it down to self-defense. Now she remembered why she’d never wanted to have much to do with Omar. He was shallow and self-centered, always looking to belittle others he felt were weaker just so he could feel good about his own lame self.
She saw the outrage that turned his face darker, and wondered if he was the type to hit a woman back. The look in her eyes as she glared at him dared him to.
“Is this man bothering you, Angela?”
Angela sank against the wall in relief as she saw Shane standing in the corridor. She hadn’t even heard him walk up. Omar scowled at the interruption, but it was Angela who said, “Not at all, sweetie. Omar here and I were just sharing some hard...truths. But now I’m sure we have nothing more to say to each other. Or do we?” she asked him pointedly. She almost hooted when Omar looked to Shane and then her, before brushing past them without another word.
Angela watched Omar disappear round the corner as she heaved an inner sigh of relief. She turned and met Shane’s expressionless gaze.
“You didn’t have to come after me,” she said lightly.
“Yes, I did,” was his plain reply. As always he didn’t have to say much to send a shiver down her spine. “Want to tell me what that was all about?"
Angela laughed hollowly. “Just a case of sour grapes. On his part, not mine. Apparently he still hadn’t got over the fact that I wanted nothing to do with him, then or now. Naturally he tried to say some shit about you and me. I didn’t pay any attention to it, trust me.”
Angela was glad Shane smiled at her comment. His humor quenched though when he looked down at her arm, turning it to see the fading bruise from Omar’s earlier grip. Angela saw Shane’s murderous rage and she quickly placed a restraining hand on his shoulder.
“Please, it’s fine. I don’t even feel it. I’m sorry if I caused any embarrassment to you because of this.”
“Forget about embarrassing me. That asshole put his hand on you...hurt you. You think I’m going to just let that slide?” Shane looked murderous.
“I’m okay” she stated firmly, smiling a little. “Can we now please go back to the party? I wouldn’t want to miss what promises to be a fabulous dessert.”
Shane made her stay still when he cupped her face, gazing down into her eyes. “I followed you to apologize. For the things I said earlier. I wish I could prove I’m not a total tyrant.”
“I never thought you were,” she said slowly, finding it difficult to think when he stood so close. When he looked at her like that. He looked so good in his black tuxedo. Everything seemed to fit him so perfectly, like they were made just for him. Well, maybe they were. But then it was more than his clothes; it was all about him, his persona that seemed to stir something deep and primal within her.
“There was no excuse,” he went on, his hand beneath her chin to tip it so she had to look up at him. “Oh wait, there was. I find I can’t stand the thought of anyone looking at you. Wanting you...knowing I want you all for myself.”
Angela’s heart pounded at his bluntness, at the feeling of his thumb stroking her jawline. His touch felt so good but she just couldn’t. Couldn’t let it pull her in.
Her lashes fluttered down and she began to shiver in her one-shoulder turquoise Versace dress. The atmosphere stilled as the air seemed sucked out of the area around them. Shane backed her slowly into the wall. She didn’t move, had no strength to struggle. No will to stop him as his lips feathered low to brush hers.
“You look...damn. Angela, you make me need things I shouldn’t. I came out tonight thinking I’ll hate every second. I was right. But you...all I have to do is look at you and none of that matters. Do you have any idea what are you doing to me?” His groan was rasped in the hollow of her throat. Angela’s head fell back as he nuzzled her sensitive spot there. Without thinking, her hands clutched his shoulders.
His body against hers was all man. She hadn’t felt the urgent need to melt and succumb to a man the way she did right then with Shane’s lips teasing her skin, kissing and breathing her in. Angela didn’t even care that someone might come round the corner and see them necking in the corridor like horny teens.
She reveled in Shane’s desire which surged and pulsed like a living entity against her.
“Shane. We need to go back. The dinner.”
“Fuck the dinner,” he said with uncharacteristic crudeness. His hands fell heavily on her hips and squeezed with masculine dominance. He shifted his lips to her ear, nibbled the soft lobe just above her pearl earring.
“Later tonight. Leave your bedroom door unlocked,” Shane commanded huskily. His tongue snaked out to sexily lash the inside of her ear. Angela bit down a shaky whimper.
“I can’t. I’m sorry. I just...no. It would be a mistake.” How many ways could she refuse him? Angela felt like she could keep saying ‘no’ but her body was telling him differently as she seemed to liquefy beneath his sensual attack.
He paused, and left Angela feeling inwardly bereft as he drew back slowly. “I understand.” There was no inflection in his voice, but when her eyes flew up to his face, she could see the expression there telling her more than she wanted to see right now.
“No you don’t,” she told him firmly. Now it was her making him look into her eyes. She stared right at him. She didn’t want him to think she was saying ‘no’ because of his face. It had never been about that. It didn’t make sense how little she cared about that part of him.
“I don’t want to get hurt,” she whispered, her temple resting against his as she closed her eyes briefly.
His hands closed gently around her throat and he urged her face up again to his. His expression looked pained. “You think I’d hurt you?”
She shook her head quickly. “Not like...not like that. I just...I can’t be a passing thing for you. I mean, we’re from different worlds. You and me...”
“Different worlds
?” He smiled tightly. “Is it my money and background? You didn’t strike me as someone who gave a damn about any of that.”
“Maybe I don’t,” she said, eyes defiant as she looked up at him. “Maybe I don’t care what people think either, or what they say when they see us together. I don’t care about any of that. But I don’t think I’m ready for...whatever this is, between us. And it was supposed to be just business, remember?”
He seemed to flinch at the way she threw his words back at him. “It’s still business,” he said in that dangerously low voice that always seemed to twist her belly in knots. “But we can also get what we both want.”
“You don’t want me. You just want sex and any woman can give you that,” Angela replied, hoping he would convince her otherwise. She hated that he was right; that he could see through her and know that she wasn’t as immune to him as she made out.
But she got the opposite effect – he let her go. She told herself she felt no real disappointment, as she went with him back to the party. She hoped she didn’t look as flustered as she felt. She glanced at Omar’s end of the table. He was gone, and so was his companion. Angela curbed a sigh. At least that was one less aggravation to worry about.
The tail end of the gala dinner was no better than the beginning. But Angela put her best face forward, and did what needed to be done. She smiled, she laughed, she conversed. Played her role of perfect girlfriend. Posed for the pictures that someone seemed to be taking from every angle they sat. She wondered which tabloids she’d find those tomorrow.
Not that it mattered. None of this was real. Shane’s hand on the small of her back, his solicitous attention as the evening wore on. It was the hardest thing she had to do in her life, keeping aloof from him when all she wanted to do was soften to his touch.
But Shane’s expression looked anything but softened right then. He had a dark scowl on his face that said ‘keep off’ more than his disfigured face ever could. She sighed heavily. Like most men, Shane obviously didn’t take rejection very well.
That gala dinner was to set a pattern for the other occasions where she had to accompany Shane over the next several days. The animal shelter fundraiser one night, or a corporate sponsor party the next.
It was always something glamorous, a night of entertainment surrounded by wealthy people. Angela took it in her stride, even with the aspect that Shane was the cool, untouchable racecar driver millionaire she’d met that first day. Impassive and strictly formal, he never acted out of line. Angela told herself she should be glad.
At the fundraiser for the animal shelter, Shane gave a speech. Each night they went out it seemed easier for him to face the world outside. Angela found it admirable how much he’d come out of his shell. The first few days there were speculations in the papers about Shane’s racing comeback, with photos of him splashing every major society and sports column. Many times, Angela was caught by his side, at first labeled his ‘new mystery girlfriend’ until someone got the scoop and found out she was a little-known actress with only one minor, stand-out role. Their words, not hers. She didn’t mind the descriptions. Her agent Megan Shaw was thrilled for the publicity. All she was interested in was capitalizing on Angela’s sudden stardom since anyone on Shane’s arm would definitely draw massive public interest.
“Too bad your boyfriend said absolutely no interviews,” Megan had told her disappointedly. “I’ve got a few blogs interested in running something on how you two met, what gives and so forth.”
“Shane guards his privacy too well I’m afraid,” Angela said. “He’s has enough to do handling the attention that comes with his face.”
“Yeah, people are still talking about that. What a terrible thing to happen. But he came out all right, didn’t he?”
Angela didn’t know about that. Shane was such a tortured soul. He kept to his offices at the mansion where he was assisted by his friendly, assistant Linda who seemed able to multi-task to infinity. Angela tried to keep busy; she worked on her weight by keeping fit in the in-house gym or going for walks or jogging around the countryside surrounding the house.
Sometimes, she came upon Shane walking his massive terrier Asgard but he barely spoke to her over a few words of courtesy concerning her wellbeing. Angela tried not to think of how much his approach to the situation hurt her. She even began to look forward to their evenings out as those were the only times he was more than just civil to her. He played his role of attentive date perfectly, and once in a while she even caught his smile. But beneath the polite regard, raged the ever-present sexual awareness that made her throat tight every time she felt his lightest touch or gaze.
His cool treatment really got to her and she’d been dumb to let it show more than once. Like that night after they came home from the opening of a swanky new nightclub owned by one of his friends and which he had an investment in. The outing had been enjoyable enough even though Shane had shown no interest in dancing so they spent the whole time in their VIP section. She remembered how much alcohol he’d consumed back there though no matter what he never seemed to get drunk or even tipsy. She could tell he handled his alcohol well but that didn’t make her feel better to see him knock back that much booze. In the back of her mind was always the worry that he was secretly falling back into his old pattern of depression and drinking. Then again, how did she really know he’d ever left it in the first place?
Back in the limo he gave her a wide berth as usual and when they arrived home he escorted her politely to the stairs like he always did. And as always, Angela went up to her room feeling like an idiot for wishing he’d just talk to her. Couldn’t they at least be friends?
She couldn’t stop thinking about that last lingering look he’d given her as she’d walked away up the stairs. She listened carefully but didn’t think he’d come up himself. What could he still be doing down at that time of the night? God! Hopefully not more drinking?
Angela knew she was dumb, crazy and stupid for what she did half an hour later. After showering and wearing her pajama set and dressing gown, she retired to lie on top of her bed and read a book to help get her to sleep. She couldn’t get Shane out of her mind. She thought of how tortured he’d seemed tonight; more than usual. Beneath the semi-dark lights of the club, he’d seemed like every other guy having a night out with friends. Even though he didn’t dance, he laughed and talked and seemed to be having a good time but Angela could tell it was mostly a cover. He probably didn’t even want to be there. But he had something to prove and he’d stuck it out until it was time to leave.
Angela was too restless to go to sleep. The next moment she was jumping from the covers, tightening her sash around her and sneaking from the room and down the stairs. She found Shane exactly where she’d expected: in his study, seated behind his desk like that very first time. It was even more shadowy than normal. She pushed open the door quietly and called his name. Even though he didn’t answer she saw his form in the chair. On the table was a half-drank bottle of scotch and a tumbler.
Heart racing, she stepped in, her slippers making barely any sound on the hardwood floor. “Shane? Are you okay?”
Instinctively, her hand groped for the light switch on the wall, but his barked tone made her stiffen, “Don’t. No fucking lights.”
Angela nodded in understanding then felt stupid when she realized he might not see it. She stepped forward, blinking to get her eyes accustomed to the dimness.
“I’m worried about you, Shane. You...you really shouldn’t be drinking so much,” she offered. She knew she should leave him the hell alone. He was like a wounded lion; the last thing he’d need was any show of kindness or Christian concern which Angela told herself was what she was exhibiting. She also told herself she knew what was biting him and somehow felt responsible.
She was only asking for trouble. She knew that but she couldn’t just keep her heart hardened and unfeeling. That wasn’t how she was at all. He merely grunted in reply to her statement. It sounded more like a warning growl. B
ut Angela couldn’t let herself get scared off by that forbidding attitude of his.
She made it to the desk without cracking her kneecap on any of the sturdy masculine furniture dotting the room. Her hand traced over the edge of the table as she went round it, just in time to catch the bottle as Shane lifted it straight to his mouth.
“This never solved anything, Shane,” she said gently while her touch was firm as she had to force the bottle out of his clutch. She placed it on the far side of the table and then turned to find his hand which had relinquished the bottle was now travelling up her hip to grab her waist. She dragged in a breath, catching his eyes that were like grey shards of icy fire.
Without thinking she lifted her hand to his face. She couldn’t really see but she could feel the tracks from the burns on the right side of his face. She felt more than heard the sharp intake of air that caused his chest to expand beneath his shirt. “Is that what you do now? Drink to hold off the pain? It still hurts, doesn’t it?” was her soft question.
He groaned low in his throat and turned his lips into her palm. “What, you mean the agonizing scars or the fact that people still flinch when they manage to look my way?” he replied.
“I know you’re suffering but alcohol isn’t going to make it better.”
“No. And I think we both know what can make it better but you’re not exactly obliging, are you?” he asked on a harsh laugh. “I mean, you refused to sleep with me for money but I can’t see you sleeping with me out of pity, either. Which one do you think would be harder for me to stomach? Having to pay for it...or having to beg for it instead? Because for you, Angela, I will beg. In a heartbeat, without hesitation. I want you that fucking much and if that’s what it’ll take...”
Angela scowled in the darkness down at him as she snatched her hand away. “Do you need to play the obnoxious rich guy? I mean is that your defense mechanism: make people hate you so that you never have to worry about not being worthy of their love, because of your scars?”
Tangled: A New Adult Romance Boxed Set (12 Book Bundle of Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Royalty) Page 45