Time to pay for your consequences, Doctor Devil.
Two can play this game, and I’m not about to surrender.
Zipping the birth control ring back into my toiletry bag, I look at myself in the mirror and take a deep breath.
This could end so horribly.
But like earlier, I can’t find the energy to care. Or maybe I don’t actually care, as horrible as that is.
All I want is towinthis war, and right now, I can’t think of what it might cost me or my future.
When I walk down to the luncheon, Dr. Kincaid is conversing with a few people I recognize from the conference. His demeanor is casual and relaxed, and as I study him, I can’t help but wonder how he manages to live with himself.
I underestimated him—I know that now.
I thought he’d confess if it happened again. One time was a mistake, but two times? It’s a pattern.
My eyes linger on his throat, on the way his facial muscles relax when he laughs good-naturedly. On the way his throat bobs every time he swallows.
He must feel my eyes on him, because a second later, he looks right at me.
Something darkens in his expression when our eyes meet, and goosebumps skirt down my arms and legs.
He looks away immediately without any kind of acknowledgement, but I see him soon dismissing himself fromthe conversation. Standing up taller, I wait for him to approach me. He walks over quickly with two hands in his pockets, and his scowl grows deeper with each step. His eyes bore into mine as he walks closer, and I swear I see them skirt over my throat—but he looks away too quickly for me to know for sure.
“Good morning, Francesca. How’d you sleep?”
This time, Ireallylook for any clue that he knows what happened. A twitch of his lips. A tilt of his head. Something…anythingin his green eyes… but there’s nothing. His face remains politely curious. His hands remain in his pockets. His stance does not waver.
I swallow as a trickle of fear works through me for the first time.
How far is he willing to go?
“I slept fine. And you?” I ask, making sure to keep my voice even.
“Same.” He gestures to our table. “Shall we sit?”
I nod without verbally answering him, and a second later he walks over to our seats and pulls my chair out for me.
Such a juxtaposition from the man who choked me eight hours ago.
Taking a seat, I wince when I sit down too hard, forgetting about how sore I am. Despite trying to disguise the sound, a hoarse squeak still escapes my lips. When I look up at Dr. Kincaid, his lips are puckered with annoyance but his eyes blaze with something hot and fiery. It sends a bolt of electricity through me, but I don’t give in. I know he expects me to, but I refuse. Instead, I sit back and tug my lips into a sardonic, little smile.
You think you can mess with me? Try harder, Doctor Devil.
His eyes flash. A swift shadow of anger sweeps across his expression before disappearing completely.
A second later, two more people join our table, and Dr. Kincaid makes every effort not to include me in the conversation. My appetite appears to have grown overnight, because I finish my lunch as well as dessert before everyone else. My stomach rumbles, and just as I’m about to take a sip of water, Dr. Kincaid slides his chocolate cake to me.
“You can have mine, since you seemed to enjoy yours so much.”
My cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I’m full.” My stomach grumbles again, and when I look over, Dr. Kincaid’s lips tug into a satisfied smirk.
“Eat, Francesca.” I glower at him as I take the plate and begin eating. It really is so fucking good, and before long, the entire piece is gone.
“I’m presenting at two, but you don’t need to be there. It’s been a long week, so why don’t you go back to the room and relax?”
“I’m already ready for the day. I can stay and take notes?—”
