Page 6 of Beautiful Betrayal

“I was trying to survive. And you were cut? I was bleeding out. And do you really think I’d come to you if I was with Ri? I’m a loyal person. I never betrayed you. I wouldn’t betray someone I was with.”

“Unlike me, right?” he challenges. “I did not betray you. I’ve tried to explain.”

“I’m not here to talk about this. I can’t go down this path again. It still hurts and me telling you that is more than you deserve.”

He stares at me, those green eyes unreadable, but his emotions are radiating off of him and pounding on me even as the rain pounds against the roof. He pushes off the pillar and walks a foot away to plant his hand on the railing and lowers his chin to his chest.

I can still feel his hand on my breast. I can still taste him and it’s killing me. “I said what I came to say. I should go.” But I don’t move. I don’t push off the pillar.

“Don’t,” he says, looking over at me. “Don’t go.”

There’s torment in his voice, a guttural plea that conflicts with all he did to me. I know this, but I don’t move. I squeeze my eyes shut. “I don’t know why I’m still standing here.” My lashes lift. “I can’t stay. I have to go.” I move then, I try to walk past him, but he pushes off the railing and steps in front of me.

“Eric and Davis are about to be here,” he says of his best friend and business manager, and his personal attorney. “I’d like them to hear what you had to say.”

“You can tell them.”

“I’d like them to hear it from you.”

“I need to get back.”

“Stay the night and you can chopper back with me tomorrow.”

“I have a rental car,” I argue.

“I’ll take care of it for you.”

I hug myself. “I don’t need or want you to take care of anything for me.”

He looks skyward and then lowers his head to cast me in a turbulent stare. “You’re helping me. It’s the least I can do.”

I inhale and let it out. “I’ll get a room and drive back tomorrow.”

“This house is ridiculously large. You can stay on another floor. You’ll never know I’m here.”

“I’ll know you’re here.” I turn away from him and press my hands to the railing. He mimics my action and we stand there, side by side, the rain pounding fiercely.

“You always loved the rain on the ocean,” he murmurs after a few moments.

I loved it when I was with him. I have good memories of loving itwithhim. “I won’t let you hurt me again,” I whisper.

We look at each other, a punch in the connection between us before he says, “I never meant to hurt you. I would die for you, Mia. That hasn’t changed.”

I cut my stare, so very confused because I believe him and that makes the way we ended illogical, at least for me, at least for my way of loving someone. I don’t understand his kind of love and yet I need it so damn badly. “If I’m staying, I’ll take a glass of that scotch.”

I feel his eyes on me, those perfect, intelligent green eyes, before he says, “Scotch it is,” and pushes off the railing. “I’ll be right back.”

I nod, but I don’t watch him walk away. I stare out into the rain and my mind goes back to another day, back to the funeral, to sitting in the car and staring at the church. I hadn’t seen Grayson in six painful months. I’d told myself that I was out of his life. I’dtold myself that he wouldn’t want me there, but I’d cared about his father and I still loved him. And so, I’d gotten out of that car. I’d gone inside.

Grayson’s footsteps sound behind me and I turn as he sets the bottle down on a table between the two chairs facing the fireplace. He fills two glasses, mine with ice, and his without because he knows I’ll want ice, and then he hands me mine. I know he’s going to touch me, but I don’t resist. I reach for my glass and when our hands collide, he catches mine and walks me to him.

Heat radiates up my arm from where he touches me and I know if I look at him, I’ll forget why that kiss was bad when it felt so damn good. For several seconds we just stand there, rain and history suffocating us until he reaches up and brushes my cheek. The touch shocks me, and I shiver, my gaze jerking to his. “Let’s sit down by the fire,” he says softly.

“I’d like that.”

He seems to hesitate to release my hand, but it slowly slides away and neither of us move. The wind gusts and that’s enough to set us in motion. I walk around the chairs and sit down in front of the fire, sipping from the glass. “That’s strong,” I say as he sits down next to me and I place the glass on the table between us. “Maybe you need to drink mine. Eric and Davis aren’t going to be an easy audience for me.” I lean forward and hold my hands toward the fire, my elbows on my knees.

Grayson leans forward with me, only he ignores the fire. “They’ve both always liked you, Mia. You know that.”