Taking Tiffany
Page 23
Yeah. That.
Seriously, I want to thank hubby, Doran, and children – Doran, Jean, Becca, Julianne and Mattie for believing in me – allowing me the time to float through my make believe world and understand. Because of all of you – I have the best of both worlds
Sneak Peek
Breaking Braydon
ONE
Braydon
THE HIGH HEEL whizzed past my head at record speed.
Damn. That was quick. Usually, when I told women to leave, it would take a few minutes before their anger boiled over. I leaned on the doorframe between the hotel bedroom and the large foyer.
“Listen, Candy, it’s been fun. But like I said, it’s time for you to go.”
She picked up her other shoe and hurled it at me. Missed again. There were many talents she shared last night, but, as it turned out, throwing shoes wasn’t among them.
“It’s Candace, you ass. Not Candy!” Her face reddened. “You think you can just brush me off? We…we only finished like five minutes ago.” Her flowing blonde hair and angry green eyes were a sight to behold, I’d give her that. She tightened the sheet around her, making sure to cover herself completely. It was time to wrap this up.
“Yes, that’s what I’m doing. You may consider this your official brush off.” Rip the Band-Aid off quickly. It was better for everyone.
Tears welled in her eyes. Here comes the drama. Women were experts at it. Good thing I knew what they were doing, along with their motivations. They wanted to be the one to snag the “Bad Boy Billionaire,” but I knew better.
The women I invited into my bed knew the score. If they hadn’t been clued in by my reputation alone, I made sure to let them know before stepping foot in my hotel room. But still, they deluded themselves. They thought they’d be the one to change me, that they’d be the one who I’d marry. They didn’t care about me. I knew that with certainty. I’d seen it replayed over and over. They were all the same. I wasn’t a fool.
"You knew what this was, Candace." I emphasized her name properly. "Now, I'd appreciate it if you'd just leave." I nodded in the direction of the door.
“Everything they say about you is true. You’re a damn bastard.” She continued to fist the sheet in her hands and stomped her foot.
“So you’re angry because I’m exactly what you thought I’d be?”
“Yes! I mean, no! I hoped you’d be different. I thought the stories about you were an exaggeration. Kind of like an urban legend or something.”
She stopped and studied me. I worked to keep my face expressionless and crossed my arms. She knew. My body language screamed ‘Don’t even try.’
She shook her head. “I was wrong. So wrong.”
I continued to watch her as she gathered her clothes from the floor and moved into the bathroom to change. It was mindless sex, but it was so good. For a moment, I considered stopping her.
What the hell? What was I thinking? What good would come from that? I hated this part of the evening. It always came, even if it was for only a split second. I’d never change, yet somehow it would find its way into my consciousness—the creeping edge of an emotion. It felt a little like regret, but I immediately shoved it down before I was able to explore it. I didn’t need or want those feelings. I wanted everyone to believe I was unobtainable. Because I was. Women could have my body for a few hours. But they’d never touch the rest of me. Ever.