Page 66 of Wrecked By You

Who are you, and what have you

done with Johannes Kingcaid?

It both saddenedand frustrated me to find that Johannes acted the same following our night together as he had after the first time we’d kissed.

He disappeared.

“Taking care of issues at my other clubs” was the note he’d left on the desk for me when I’d arrived at work on Monday morning, but I knew the truth.

God, I could shake the damned idiot until his teeth fell out.

The man had locked down his emotions so tight, and then promptly lost the key. Or, more likely, buried it under a ton of concrete. But I’d pry them open, force him to face up to them if it killed me. He meant too much. He could say that what we’d shared was just a fuck, and he could even convince himself it was true, but he’d never convince me.

Feelings were odd things. Sometimes they hit you like a truck, out of the blue. Other times they crept up on you slowly, tapping lightly on your shoulder until you paid them the attention they demanded. But ignoring them never worked. Sooner or later, they’d break through.

My feelings for Johannes had built slowly over time. If I thought back to my interview, I’d considered him attractive yet brusque and far too grumpy for my type, but gradually, I’d seen past the outer shell he showed to the world to the man beneath. He had a multitude of issues, and I had more than enough of my own to contend with without taking on his as well. But there was just something about him that compelled me to cast aside common sense and leap into the unknown.

I was mature enough to recognize what was happening. I was falling for him. Which meant that soon I’d owe him the truth.

I dreaded it. I hated that I’d taken the coward’s way out and lied to him about my parents, about Mateo, about the fact that I was a married woman on the run from a drug baron. I had a horrible feeling that when I finally told him the truth, he’d run for real.

And who would blame him if he did?

Friday came around, and I still hadn’t seen Johannes. I turned up for work at my usual time of nine o’clock, ready to tackle the mountain of paperwork that never seemed to diminish. I didn’t mind, though. Keeping busy stopped me from thinking about him and what I’d do if this was his way of ending things before they’d even begun.

I entered his office and hung my coat on the hook behind the door. Dropping my bag onto the desk, I sat in his chair and got to work. Engrossed, I lost track of time, so when someone cleared their throat, I jumped and banged my knee on the underside of the desk.

“Ow!” I glowered at Johannes standing with his shoulder propped against the door frame. “The wanderer returns, I see.”

“Want me to rub that for you?” He cocked a brow.

“No.” My scowl deepened. I grabbed a pile of paperwork and pushed it to the edge of his desk. “I need you to sign these.”

“Sure.” He swaggered over as if he hadn’t slept with me—twice—then spent almost a week avoiding me.Dealing with stuff at his other clubs my ass. He snagged my pen out of my hand and scrawled his illegible signature on every sheet of paper without reading a single one.

“You shouldn’t sign things without reading them,” I scolded. “I could be trying to steal your fortune.”

“But you’re not.”

“How can you be so sure?”

He signed the last sheet, dropped the pen, and pushed them back to my side of the desk. “Because I know you.”

I snorted. “Is that what you think?”

“You are salty this morning.” He sat in the guest chair, crossing his ankle over the opposing knee. “And yes, I do know you. Not your background, or your past, or where you went to school, or how you like your eggs in the morning. I know the important things. Your morals, your integrity.” He smirked, his eyes filled with heat as he stared at my breasts. “Your body.”

A shiver of delight trickled down my spine, but I kept my expression stoic. He’d run out on me—and nothing he said would convince me otherwise—and now he turned up here all almost smiles and direct come-ons.

No.

I wasn’t having it.

“Hardly.” I snorted. “After all, it was just a fuck.”

He flinched, and I inwardly cheered. Good. I’d hit him where it hurt. Maybe now he’d grow the hell up and engage in an adult conversation.

“I apologize.” He grimaced. “What I said was uncalled for.”