I frowned. “I owe you what?”
“You took everything from me—my company, my sanity, and my peace of mind.”
Whoa. “According to you—two seconds ago—you didn’t want your company anymore, and before I came along, you were a slave to your…secret,” I whispered that last word. I don’t know why exactly, since it wasn’t a secret anymore. Max’s perfection-obsessed mother had psychologically abused him and his older sister, causing him to believe that anything unaesthetically pleasing was a cancer. His secret disorder was called cacophobia. He would experience extreme anxiety at the sight of ugliness. It sounded kind of funny until you were at the receiving end of that disgust or understood how hard it had made his life. His own sister had disowned them all, likely to save herself. Last I’d heard, Max was trying to find her.
As for his disorder? I had been Max’s antidote. His desensitization therapy. Which was why he’d hired me. Okay—it was part of the reason. He believed in me and wanted to help me find my confidence. And while my outsides made him break out in a cold sweat, he found my insides irresistible. He eventually overcame his aversion, and we shared a few days of magic. Bliss. Heaven. Yes, for a few short moments we both believed we’d had a future together, without our uglies.
We’d been wrong.
“Lily.” He gripped my shoulders. “We both know where this will go. Why make us suffer any more than we already have?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I love you. More than anything, and I know you feel the same. So why put yourself or Patricio through any unnecessary turmoil?”
I felt enraged by his presumptive nature. He didn’t own me. He knew nothing about what I’d been through. There was no way in hell I’d risk getting hurt like that again by him. Nope. Nuh-uh. I’d rather have a do-over of my face getting mangled—it would hurt less.
“I think you’re going to have to accept the truth, Max. We. Are. Over. I am marrying Patricio.”
“No. You won’t.”
“Says who?” I asked.
“Me.”
I laughed.
He squeezed my shoulders firmly. “I know you, Lily. I know the smell of your darkest fears and the sound of your happiest laugh. I know how your heart beats faster when I kiss that little spot at the base of your neck.” He leaned down to whisper in my ear, “And I know how your pussy feels when you can’t get enough of my hard cock.”
I jerked back and stared into his hazel eyes, unable to deny a single shocking word. “Your point?”
He slid his hand behind the back of my head and kissed me hard. His lips were punishing. His tongue was hot. His body told me he was ready for war and taking no prisoners.
Goddammit! I missed his soft lips. They felt like perfection against my mouth.
He pulled back, leaving me breathless. “My point, Lily, is that I own you. Not because I’m a possessive asshole, but because you already gave yourself to me.”
He was overlooking how he’d turned me away when I groveled at his perfect feet and begged for forgiveness. I have suffered and suffered and suffered some more. I’m done suffering. I was not about to invite that horrific breed of vulnerability into my life. Never again.
I walked out of the back room and weaved my way between my display tables to the front door.
Max followed closely behind. “Where do you think you’re going?”
I pushed the door open and stepped to the side. “This is the only thing I’ve got to offer, Max. The exit. And don’t come back.”
He smiled, walked straight for me, and stopped with less than a foot between us. “You’re mine, Lily, and you can pretend otherwise, but it won’t change the fact: Patricio doesn’t love you like I do and he never will.”
I held up my left hand to show my engagement ring. “He says otherwise. And so do I.”
Max shook his head. “Marketing, Lily. It’s all about marketing.” He turned and left, leaving my mind to wonder what he’d meant.
I spent the rest of the day with the fakest smile I’d ever worn, a necessity to greet my handful of customers and make sales, but make no mistake, underneath that smile was outrage.
How dare he say that to me? Patricio loves me! Why else would a famous, hot-as-hell Italian actor want to marry me? Patricio had nothing to gain. Nothing. I mean, yes, marrying me would get him a green card, but with those big green eyes, that handsome face and sexy body, he could get anyone, really. Me, I came with baggage. I was complicated. I was not marriage-of-convenience material. More like inconvenience material. Besides, the studio had him on a work visa for some movie he was filming. He could eventually apply for a green card on his own.
Ha. See, Max! He does want me. Wait. What am I doing?