Page 85 of Risky Obsession

“I have no idea what I can do to prove that I’m not that naïve idiot anymore. To show you I’m not the man Aria warned you about.” I searched her expression for signs of acceptance, but she was rigid.

The silence stretched between us was suffocating.

I couldn’t say another word to help my cause.

Clenching my jaw, I strode to the door.

“Where are you going?” Tory’s voice rang out with a hint of panic.

I paused with my hand on the door handle. In any other situation, I would walk away completely. But no matter what she thought of me, I was not a man who left a woman stranded in another country without a phone and ID.

“Kane, where are you going?”

“To get my clothes for tonight.” I hated that my tone highlighted my hurt. I walked out of the room and let the door shut behind me.

I was sick of secrets.

And I’d had enough lies from my family to last ten lifetimes.

If she can’t understand that the bullshit of my past has shaped me into who I am today, thenfuck her.I will not pretend to be anything less.

Pretending is for liars.

Maybe we should end this stupid quest before my fucking heart does something really stupid . . . like fall for a woman who clearly has her share of baggage.

CHAPTER 18

Lacey/Tory

In the fancy bathroom, I removed the brace from my hand to examine my injury. The bruising on my fingers had faded and the swelling was a lot less than last time I’d checked. I turned on the faucet, and my hand trembled as the water gushed over my fingers.

My gaze shifted to the tattoo on my right wrist. It was a constant reminder of who I was beneath the scars and the bruises. Lacey Brooks, survivor, fighter, and now fake treasure-hunting partner to Kane Devlin—the man who was playing havoc with my emotions.

My first boyfriend had done the same, but I’d been young and naive and couldn’t see through his evil manipulation.

I was older. Smarter. Wiser, and yet here I was tangled in another web of lies and deceit. Except this time, the man involved wasn’t a manipulative bastard. Kane had a way of unraveling the walls I’d built around myself, and I felt so damn vulnerable around him, like a giddy teenager.

Each time he touched me, his fingers lingered on my skin as if he knew he was fueling a dangerous flame that threatened to consume me whole.

As the warm water trickled down my fingers, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. The ghosts of my past mistakes bore down on me, adding more weight to the burden of guilt that I carried every day.

I flexed my fingers, testing the limits of my healing bones, and gasped aseach movement sent jolts of pain through my hand. The physical pain was nothing compared to the turmoil in my heart.

I was torn between duty and desire.

How the hell did I get into this mess?

I stared at my reflection, trying to steady my thoughts. Kane leaving after our argument like he did, left me feeling like a ticking time bomb, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

Where was he? After he’d gone, I’d tried to have a good sleep, but the three hours I’d laid down on the luxurious bed had provided a broken nap at best.

I thought Kane would be back by now, and without my phone, I had absolutely no way to contact him. I didn’t want to ask at reception if anyone knew where he was. We had already attracted enough attention with our disheveled appearance when we arrived.

“He’ll be back,” I whispered to myself as uncertainty swirled inside me.

Satisfied that I’d moved my fingers enough for one day, I turned off the faucet, letting the water droplets slide off my hands before reaching for a towel. As I dried my hands, I strolled back to the bedroom to check the clock on the bedside stand for the umpteenth time.

“Where are you, Kane?” I murmured.