Page 262 of Handsome Devil
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I ignored his words, because they so weren’t enough right now.
“How are things with the agency?” he asked me.
“Do you actually care? I assume if you did, you would’ve been in touch.”
“I left you in good hands.”
Yes. He did. His team had been amazing with the transition. So had my team at the agency, even Lizzie.
That didn’t change the fact that he’d left.
“Yeah, well. It was a bit of a struggle at first,” I said honestly. “But we survived.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left you to struggle alone.”
“Whatever. Since when is struggle bad?” I found my coat and tugged it off the hanger. I turned to him as I slipped it over my shoulders, on top of my cape. “Life is filled with struggle. We can’t all be born Davenports.”
That really wasn’t kind, given what we’d both learned about his family. And how hard being a part of that family probably was for him, in many ways. But I was still pissed that he had the means to just pick up and disappear to some foreign country, and then float back into my life whenever he felt like it in a pair of damn angel wings.
But he didn’t look mad. He didn’t look like he wanted to fight with me, at all.
His gaze traveled down my body. He was standing in my way. Again. “I didn’t know you were into Marvel movies.” His eyes met mine. “Or do you like the comics?”
What the fuck.He was the only person at this entire party who got my costume.
And he was asking like he sincerely wanted to know. Like he wanted to know every little thing about me, including some secret love I might have for superheroes.
“Neither,” I said. “I’m into strong heroines who kick ass.”
“Let me take you home.”
“Excuse me?”
He swiped a hand over his face. “Drive. Let me drive you home.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? You’d get us both killed before we were out of the parking lot.”
“Security,” he said. “I have a driver.”
Of course. Because as soon as he returned to Canada, he’d probably been in touch with his team and Lex and all his friends.
Everyone but me. His fucking wife.
His eyes held mine and he wavered closer. Way too close.
I eased back a little.
Oh, Lord. He was trying to put his coat on because I put mine on. With the wings still on.
He kept pawing at the armhole and missing.
“Have you thought about what happens when you actually get your arm in the hole?” I inquired.
“Huh?” he said, as his arm slid into the sleeve. And the coat got stuck at his shoulder. The giant wings were in the way of it going any farther.
The coat dangled from his side.
