I clear my throat and look for the right words. “No. I still can’t play.” My hand flexes out of habit, and I feel the burn in my palm, up through my fingers.
Asher’s attention turns to me. He doesn’t look angry like he did earlier. Instead he looks . . . God, I wish I knew what he was thinking. I gather my papers off my lap and grab my bag off the floor.
“Why didn’t you come find me?”
I halt putting my papers in my bag. My eyes scrunch together in confusion. “What?”
Asher is standing on the far side of the room. His feet are spread wide apart, his arms now crossed in front of his body. His chin rises and he stands as if prepared for a duel. “You’ve been here for two months. Why didn’t you track me down?”
I shake my head in disgust at his bold attempt to assume I’d even want to see him. “Why would I look for you in New York when you didn’t have the decency to stay for me in Capri?” The hair on the back of my neck stands up, as nervous energy takes over. I’m unprepared for this conversation.
Studying the pattern of the hardwood floor, I wait for him to answer me. Silence fills the air and I have the need to fill it. With a shaky hand I swing my tote over my shoulder and start to move. “Guess I was just another one of your playthings, Asher . . . or Alexander. Whatever the hell your name is.”
My feet are mid-stride when he steps in my direction, coming to a stop in front of me. “You would know all about that. Some actress you turned out to be.” His hands rise in front of his body, palms up. For as jittery as I am feeling at this moment, he is exuding complete control. “Don’t play dumb. You knew who I was the entire time.”
My mouth opens in a huff and I breathe out an expletive. “I know nothing about you. Just some pathetic made up stories.” I brush past him with my shoulder and make my way toward the exit.
“You had me followed.” My feet come to a screeching halt. What the hell is he talking about? “My boat was pinged, my information gathered.”
I turn my head to the side, peering over my shoulder, and look at him out the corner of my eye.
Asher takes a step toward me, his presence close yet so far away. I wish my body wasn’t so aware of him, sensitive to him, even if it is screaming with fury and pain. My heart is pounding out of my chest, and it’s not only because of anger or hurt—and that makes me angry and hurt all over again.
“Why was Adam Reingold researching me?” It’s not a polite question. It’s filled with accusation and judgment.
Adam was worried his future wife and sister-in-law were being taken advantage of. He feared we’d be hurt while gallivanting with some billionaire on his yacht. He cared for our safety.
Is it so difficult for someone like Asher to assume a person cared so much about his loved ones he went out of his way to keep them safe? Does he always think someone has an ulterior motive? Are we all untrustworthy?
After everything I shared with him. In seventy-two hours I laid my soul bare to him, gave my body to him. In return, he’s accusing me of something so heinous, it’s as if the moments we shared meant nothing.
He takes a step closer. His jaw is clenched, his arms flexed in agitation. He’s mad. I can see that. But I can also see something else in those golden eyes.
He’s scared.
Of what, I have no idea and I’m not going to stick around to find out.
With my back to him, I cast my words over my shoulder; he doesn’t deserve my full attention.
“You’ve been looking for a reason to walk away from me since the moment we met. Let me make this easy for you.”
I turn my head back around and walk out of the room and out of the building, my feet not stopping until I’m back, grounded on the pavement outside.