Page 96 of Scorned Beauty

“The difference is,” I enunciated, “there was no romantic entanglement. It was simply business. I wasn’t taking them out in the hopes of a relationship.”

“You could say the same of what we had.”

“Keep lying to yourself, baby,” I muttered under my breath and resumed glaring at the highway. I had no defense. Instead of answering her, I growled, “Fine, but no sex.”

I could feel Sloane’s gaze on me when she said, “That’s fair.”

I relaxed a bit.

“I’ll let you know when that changes.”

Christ. I tamped down my desire to snap at her. Sloane sure knew how to torture me.

“I still think I shouldn’t be staying at your penthouse,” she ventured.

“Nonnegotiable.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll move out.”

“Dom, we’re going in circles here. I’m not putting you out of your place, but it’s going to be awkward if I go on a date and you happen to show up.”

Oh, you bet I’ll be lurking around the corners, baby. “I won’t.” The thought of making her date have an “accident” appealed to me. It might actually be therapeutic. Getting rid of men interested in Sloane seemed like a good sport in order towork out my frustrations with the added benefit of her finally realizing I’m her only and best option.

Her fated option.

“Why are you grinning?” Suspicion crept into her tone.

I schooled my features and glanced at her, pasting on a practiced smile that probably belonged on a serial killer’s face. A serial killer whose main trigger was anyone interested in Sloane.

“Because I can’t wait for you to stay at my penthouse,” I lied.

“I don’t trust that smile,” she muttered.

My face fell. Fuck.

This woman was going to keep me on my toes.

But a grin threatened to form again. I was up for that challenge.

No pleasure without the pain.

Chapter

Twenty-Four

Sloane

“Ginger!”Tears formed in my eyes.

My cat was sphinx-sitting on the armrest of an expensive leather couch when we walked in. She made a tiny meow, plopped on the floor, and trotted toward us. She rubbed herself on my leg and then did the same to Dom.

I was taken aback.

“Hey, girl.” Dom picked up Ginger and my cat lapped up the attention.

This was new. Even if Dom told me Ginger was living with him, it was still jarring to see how my cat let him pick her up. I mean, we’d been seeing each other for months, and other than Ginger knowing it was Dom who was buying her gourmet tuna, they kept their distance from each other. Like they tolerated each other for my sake. Now they were ganging up on me?