Page 24 of Savage Promises
Lennox’s breathing hitches. Her eyes give away how much she hates this. Hates me, probably. And fuck, that kills me.
“But don’t think for one second this means I approve,” she sneaks in the last word.
I bark a laugh, tension coiling tighter inside me. “I never said you had to approve.”
She turns to leave, but I can’t let her go. Not like this.
“Lennox,” I bark.
She pauses, her back still to me. “What, Shane?”
“I never wanted this either.” I draw a shaky breath. “Neve isn’twhoI want.”
Her shoulders stiffen at my confession, but she doesn’t turn around. Her voice comes out hollow and raw. “Yet, you agreed to marry my sister. You’ll hear from her in twenty-four hours.”
Lennox walks off like I fucking mean nothing to her. Every step echoes on the polished mirrored floor, the clicking a series of airstrikes above the music. All I’ll remember from this conversation is how fiery hot her eyes burned looking at me.
And that I hated how much she still mattered to me.
“One more favor, Lennox,” I call out becauseIget the last word.
She turns to face me this time. “Yes, Shane?”
I stare at her mouth, loving my name on those fuckable lips. She’s getting to me as much as I’m using her for my own damn selfish fantastical needs. Before I lose my nerve, I tell her the second task I’d thought up earlier.
“I’d like you to help me pick out Neve’s engagement and wedding rings.”
Lennox’s chest heaves as she rests a fidgety hand on her stomach. Fuck, I didn’t want that reaction. When I’d come up with the idea, I figured it was a way to spend time with her. To get to know her again. Even if it will blow up in my face, getting close to a woman I can’t have.
“Sure,” she says, snapping out of the horror that had taken hold of her.
With no more to say, she walks away, leaving me standing here in the pulse of the music, feeling more lost and hungrier for a woman than I have in years.
Six, to be exact.
CHAPTER NINE
Lennox
At two p.m. on the dot, a few days later, Shane arrives at Club Echelon in a sleek red Corvette, the kind of car that turns heads. Even in a city with mob bosses everywhere. He steps out of the swanky ride wearing a perfectly tailored charcoal suit. The crisp white shirt open at the collar reveals a teasing glimpse of skin.
Behind the glass doors with my club logo etched into the frosted design, I tug at the hem of my navy blazer. I’d gone for practical instead of sexy and paired it with cream slacks. But my clothes suddenly feel more like pajamas next to Shane’s polished perfection.
Even though it’s mid-November in New York, he doesn’t bother with an overcoat and my heart does a stupid, fluttery thing it has no business doing.
When I step outside into the cold, tugging my wool coat tighter around my shoulders, Shane does a doubletake.
“You look beautiful,” he says, his voice softer than I expect.
Like he means it.
I don’t thank him. I can’t. Not when he has my stomach in knots. I consider making a last-minute excuse to postpone, after all, it’s my birthday. I would never tell Shane, just argue that Neve should be picking out her own damn rings. But she’s still busy with classes and volleyball.
As Shane correctly figured out, Neve has shown zero interest in this wedding.
“Let’s just get this over with,” I say firmly.
“I intend to take my time with you today,” he laughs, opening the car door for me.
