Bishop's Queen, Page 3

  As she turned to greet Evan, it was like a sucker punch to the chest. He looked savagely beautiful—though that was probably the wrong word, but savage definitely fit. He’d grown a beard and she could see the fading redness of the scars on the left side of his face where the dark hair hadn’t quite covered it. The tight-looking, reddish scars extended down to his neck and beyond, but the rest was covered by his tux. She knew that eventually the scars would fade to white, but it was far too soon for that.

  She had the insane urge to reach up and touch him, to embrace him. To freaking scream at him and ask him why he’d cut her out of his life as if she was nothing. Oh, no. She shoved back her rage. She’d spent a lifetime smiling through her pain and worry where her mom was concerned. She could deal with seeing her ex for a few minutes and make inane small talk, even if she was quietly dying inside.

  “Isla, Geno, nice to see you both.” Evan’s words weren’t exactly icy, but they weren’t friendly either.

  It was like being slapped in the face with cold water. He spoke to her as if they’d never made love in every room of his home—and hers. As if they hadn’t actually been engaged. As if they were mere strangers being painfully polite because they had to be.

  Turned out she was wrong. She most definitely could not keep up the pretense of being friendly to the man who’d broken her heart. Not for much longer, anyway.

  Geno stuck his hand out and for a moment Isla wasn’t certain Evan would take it. He was almost always perfectly polite, even if he was cold to people, but he was looking at Geno as if he wanted to rip his head off. His sharp blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly, a dark glint in them.

  She frowned, looking between the two of them. There was no way he was jealous. Not when he’d been the one to cut her out of his life.

  After an uncomfortable pause, he shook Geno’s hand. “Nice to see you.”

  Geno didn’t let go and neither did Evan, both of them doing some weird kind of hard grip as they stared at each other. What the hell was going on? She looked over at Evie, who was watching them in fascination, her eyes gleaming in…amusement?

  Isla cleared her throat. She didn’t have time for whatever garbage this was. “Well, we need to make some rounds.”

  When neither of them moved, Isla wrapped her fingers around Geno’s upper arm. “I see Rodriguez,” she said.

  He glanced at her in surprise, letting go of Evan’s hand.

  She murmured polite nothings as she practically dragged Geno away, letting the throng of people swallow them up. She shoved back the hurt bubbling up inside that Evan hadn’t said one personal thing, had barely tried to be polite, and had basically had a strange sort of pissing contest with Geno.

  As they moved their way through the tables, disappearing into the crowd, Geno looked around. “Where is she?”

  “I lied. You two looked like you needed to be separated.”

  He looked startled then laughed.

  And she found herself laughing as well, though it surprised her. God, it felt good to actually let loose, to not be this tight ball of tense energy all the time. And even if it was just for one night, she was going to at least try to enjoy herself since she had to be here anyway. Because screw Evan Bishop. She might be dying inside, but that didn’t mean she had to be crappy company for the man she was doing business with tonight. Geno had showed up here ready to get things done and he deserved a partner who was ready to work too—not wallow in self-pity. “We’ll find her soon.”

  “Would you like some champagne?”

  “I’m okay. Sparkling water will be fine.”

  “All right, then. Let’s get some drinks and find Rodriguez.”

  As they mingled, making their way toward one of the drink areas, she forced herself not to turn and look back in the direction they’d left Evan. Even if she swore she could feel his eyes drilling into her back.

  That was just her imagination, however. It had to be.

  Chapter 4

  Isla stepped out of the huge ladies’ room, glad to be away from all of the chattering and people. She and Geno had done what they’d come to do, and though she knew she would have to stick around for another half hour and make small talk, she was ready to go. Months ago, she would have been in her element. So many of her family’s friends and acquaintances were here and she loved catching up with people. She was a social butterfly and normally loved stuff like this.

  But two months ago, she would have been with Evan, so tonight would have been fun and would have ended with a couple bouts of satisfying, sweaty sex. Right now, she felt as if she was on autopilot, just going through the motions. Though she was pretty sure she’d stayed upbeat with Geno and Sara Rodriguez.

  Seeing Evan had thrown her off-balance. No use denying it.

  As she rounded the corner, the noise and music grew louder— She jerked to a halt to stop from running into Evan. It was as if her mind had conjured him up. Or maybe the universe was still screwing with her. Ugh.

  He was alone, looking sexy in his custom tux, and she wanted to drink in every inch of him. But he might as well be a stranger.

  She smiled politely, unsure what to say as she started to step around him. She absolutely could not do bullshit small talk with this man. This man who had seen every inch of her naked, who had eaten food off her body, given her far too many orgasms to count, and asked her to be his wife. Nope. If she started talking to him, she was likely to unleash all the hurt and anger buried inside. And once she started, she wouldn’t stop. Making a public scene was not something she’d ever done, nor intended to do. But her emotions were riding high tonight.

  “You and Geno?” His voice was a rough growl as he spoke.

  She jerked to a halt at the very fact that he was talking to her. It took a moment for his angry words to register. “What?”

  His stare was laser-hot. “Are you seeing Geno Conti?”

  She blinked again. “We’re here on business. Something I’m pretty sure you’re already aware of.” Unless he was seriously out of touch with everything, and Evan always had a pulse on everything around Miami.

  “I saw the article online.”

  “And you believe everything you read online now?” She couldn’t believe they were even having this conversation. He owed her so much more than this, owed her an explanation and an apology, and this was all he had to say? Oh, her anger spiked now, sharp and hot, needling away at her insides.

  “Stay away from him.”

  Her spine straightened. “Excuse me?”

  “Don’t fuck him.”

  Her eyes widened as she stared at him in pure shock. To be fair, he looked a little shocked by his own words. Still, he couldn’t seriously be telling her who she could or couldn’t sleep with. She had so many responses, but none of them came out as she stared at this arrogant, domineering man she’d fallen for over a year ago. Right about now she wanted to smack that look right off his face.

  “I will sleep with whoever I want, wherever I want—as many times as I want. And in as many different positions as I want.” She stepped around him then, hurt and fury stabbing her with sharp needles, ignoring his growl of protest. There was no way she was sleeping with Geno, but Evan didn’t get to tell her what to do. He’d lost the right to even call her a friend.

  Forget waiting half an hour. She was leaving now. She was hanging on by a thread and Evan had just pushed her to the brink. She was going to go home and get in her pajamas.

  And probably eat a pint of ice cream.

  Because if she stayed any longer, she was going to completely lose it and then she’d end up in the gossip section of multiple online outlets tomorrow. Nope, nope, nope.

  * * *

  On the couch in her condo living room as she looked out over brightly lit downtown Miami, Isla paused at a consistent knocking sound.

  No one should be at her door because security hadn’t announced any visitors. Not to mention it was midnight. Though technically it could be one of her neighbors. Annoyed, she pulled u
p her security camera from her phone and froze when she saw Evan on the screen, knocking on her door. She’d left him at the gala nearly an hour ago. What the hell?

  Ugh, he’d been here so many times in the past, security had probably just waved him on through.

  Annoyed beyond reason and ready to light into him, she stalked to the front door and jerked it open. “Excuse me? Can I help you?”

  He was still in his tux, his tie gone and his shirt rumpled. He stalked right past her as if he had every right to.

  “Oh my God. What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t just barge in here.”

  She stared at his very sexy backside as he stopped in the foyer and swiveled to face her, looking as if he’d collected himself somewhat. But he still hadn’t said a word. That was when it registered why he was here. Oh no. The anger was back, all those spikes of fury lashing out against her senses.

  “You think Geno is here, don’t you?” When he didn’t deny it, she stared at him for a long moment. “My only date tonight is Ben and Jerry. I’m alone. Not that it’s any of your business. Geno and I are working on a business deal. People of the opposite sex can indeed do business together and have it just be business.” Despite what some morons might think.

  He rubbed a hand over his dark hair, looking almost lost. “I shouldn’t have come over here.”

  “No kidding. I’m curious though—what would you have done if he had been in my bed?”

  Fire shot through his eyes. “I don’t even want to think about what I would have done.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” she demanded, completely at the end of her rope with him. “You ended things with me, and didn’t even have the balls to do it to my face.” Hell, they’d been planning to move in together before they got married. Her entire condo had been packed up and ready to be moved into his place. But that had never happened so she’d had to unpack and put everything back up. She still had a few boxes lying around that she hadn’t managed to unload because it had been too depressing.

  Now was the time for this, she realized. She finally had Evan in front of her and she couldn’t stop the deluge of things she’d been desperate to say to him. Even if she should hold back, there was no stopping her now.

  In her bare feet and navy blue pajamas covered in white stars that her mother had given her, she stepped forward, thrusting her index finger at him. “I have some things I want to say to you, and you are going to listen.”

  He didn’t move, just watched her, his blue eyes focused on her.

  “The fact that you’re here right now, the fact you’re telling me to basically stay away from Geno, is seriously messed up. You cut me out of your life in a way I wouldn’t even do to an enemy.” That wasn’t true. “Scratch that—you cut me out of your life the way I would do to an enemy. What you did was brutal, and cruel.”

  Now that she was on a roll, there was no stopping.

  “My father had just died. And I understand you were in the hospital and in pain. Guess what, I was in pain too. I was hurting with loss, for my father, and for you. We were engaged. We loved each other. But you treated me like a stranger. What you did was beyond mean. It was unforgivable. Something I literally never could have imagined happening.” Her breaths were coming in raspy now as she balled her fists at her side, resisting the urge to punch him. “You ripped my heart out!”

  He opened his mouth to respond but she shook her head.

  “No. Stay there. I have something for you.” Hurt and anger swirled inside her as she hurried into her bedroom and grabbed the little jewelry box she’d been foolishly holding on to the last couple months.

  He’d never asked for the engagement ring back, and she’d been planning to give it to him. But she’d been holding on to the thing as a sort of security blanket. If she still had this ring, then they weren’t really broken up. He hadn’t really savagely cut her out of his life. Except he had. It was time for her to get over him and move on, no matter how hard it was or how much it hurt.

  In a full rage now, she stopped back in the foyer where he was still standing, hands shoved in his pockets. She held out the box, and when he slowly reached out a hand, she slammed it into his palm. “I should have given this back to you a long time ago. Stay out of my life. I already told you, I’ll date or sleep with whoever I want. You made your feelings about me very clear. You made it really clear that you didn’t think I could handle you being injured! As if you thought I would run away at the first sign of things getting difficult. Which made me realize you didn’t know me at all. That you had absolutely no faith in us.”

  His expression was tortured. “Isla—”

  “No. You lost the right to try and explain long ago, and I don’t want to hear a thing you have to say at this point. I am absolutely done with you, Evan Bishop. Do you understand that? Do not come back over to my house. We’re done.” She opened the door, grabbed him by the upper arm and propelled him out.

  He was strong enough that he didn’t have to move if he didn’t want to, but he let her push him along even though it was clear he wanted to say something.

  She couldn’t stand hearing anything from him right now. No platitudes, no stupid apologies, nothing. Because if he said anything remotely apologetic, she was going to burst into tears. She’d cried enough for Evan. And he’d lost the right to talk to her now. She’d waited in that hospital for weeks, desperate to see him, for him to wake up from that coma. Then she’d been so sure the doctor was wrong and that Evan hadn’t ordered her barred from his room. The very thought had been inconceivable.

  Screw him and all the pain he’d caused her. The pain he was still causing her.

  Surprising herself, she slammed the door in his face, and slid the lock into place. Then she collapsed against it and didn’t fight the tears any longer, letting them stream down her face as her entire body shook. They were truly and utterly done, even if it felt like she’d just ripped her own skin off.

  She’d known it, but tonight sealed the lid of the coffin shut on their relationship.

  She and Evan were over, and she had to find a way to live with that.

  Chapter 5

  The next morning Evan stepped out of the condo across the hallway at the same time Isla did. Because he might have been watching through the peephole. Yep, this was what he’d been reduced to. All because of stupid life choices—and the fact that he was a damn coward. But he’d had a few hours of sleep and he knew what he needed to do. He had to make things right with her. The words she’d hurled at him last night had struck home. Hard. Because they’d been true.

  She stared at him in confusion as she locked her door behind her. “What are you doing here?”

  He drank in the sight of her, thirsty for her, hungry for her. Desperate to hold her again. He wasn’t sure how he’d lived two months without her. Hell, he still had the letter she’d given him a month ago, telling him she’d always love him, be there for him—for some reason he couldn’t toss it. When she’d given him back her engagement ring last night, everything had seemed so final. Which was his fault.

  And the words she’d thrown at him had been one hundred percent true. What he’d done was beyond forgivable but he had to try and make things right. He knew she would never be with him again, but he didn’t want to live in a world where Isla McDonald hated him so much. He needed…to at least be her friend. If she’d let him. She didn’t deserve what he’d done to her, the way he’d cut her out of his life. He wanted more, but he was a realist. Now even more so than two months ago.

  “I’m renting this place from Blackwood.” He’d called the man after she’d kicked him out and asked to use the place indefinitely. Since Blackwood was married to Evan’s sister, he hadn’t given him any grief for calling so late.

  As he stood with her, he tried not to do a visual sweep of her, though it was impossible. He had every curve and line of her body memorized—he’d thought about her endlessly while lying in that hospital bed. As he’d stared at the ceiling tiles, having memoriz
ed each crack or uneven placement, his thoughts had been consumed with Isla. He still loved her, had never stopped. But he’d had to let her go.

  She had on regular running gear and he couldn’t see any bruises from her mugging. According to Viktor she’d been shoved to the ground so she likely wouldn’t have any visible bruises anyway. She seemed to be moving fine, just as she had last night. Watching her, it hit him again that she’d definitely lost weight. She didn’t look frail, exactly, but she clearly wasn’t taking care of herself. Damn it, he hated himself for being the cause of this.

  “You look thinner,” he blurted out, then inwardly cursed at the stony look she gave him.

  She turned on her heel and started down the hallway.

  “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant.”

  She simply snorted, doing a very good job of ignoring him as she strode toward the elevators. He followed. As they reached the mirrored doors, he studiously avoided looking at his reflection. He’d worn a long-sleeve shirt that covered up most of his scars but some were still visible along his neck and on the left side of his face. He was still getting used to the “new” him and though he hated the way his thoughts traveled, he wondered what Isla thought of him.

  Last night at the gala she hadn’t looked at him with disgust, like he’d feared, but with shock. Then she’d covered that up with a neutral mask of polite civility. And when she’d grasped onto Conti’s arm, basically dragging the man away, he’d had to hold on to the last shred of control he had and force himself not to stalk after the two of them. The only reason he hadn’t was because Evie had punched him in the shoulder and told him to stop being a dick. Even so, he still hadn’t been unable to stop himself from hunting Isla down later—and acting like a complete jackass. When she’d told him that she’d sleep with whoever she wanted, whenever she wanted…