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When he bent his face to mine and kissed me softly, I wrapped my arms around his neck, melting against his solid chest. His fingertips edged up the bottom of my shirt, skimming across my bare skin. I inhaled sharply and eased him toward the couch.

He got the message, bending and picking me up effortlessly. His big palms squeezed my bottom as he carried me to the couch and set me down. I laid back, moaning softly as he leaned over me and then covered my body with his, his lips returning to mine for a deeper, more insistent kiss.

“Viv,” he said in a low tone against my mouth. “You make it really fucking hard to be a gentleman.”

I arched my back and wrapped a leg around his hip, humming a moan against his lips. “You were a gentleman last time. That’s good enough.”

He buried his face in my neck, the soft scruff of his beard brushing over my skin sending a shiver through me. It never seemed to stop; the touch of his lips and tongue to my neck sent fresh shivers down my spine. There was another one when he squeezed my ass and I felt his thick erection pressing against my core.

I pulled his shirt loose from his pants in the back and slid my palm beneath it, needing to feel his warm skin and taut muscles. He stiffened and pulled back, looking down at me with a mix of arousal and confusion.

“Fuck.”

“What’s wrong?”

He ran a hand over his short black hair and sat on the edge of the couch, shoulders slumped.

Still breathing hard, I put my fingertips on my lips, feeling the tingle of his rough kiss and the smooth scratch of his beard. Silence hung thick in the air until finally, he spoke.

“You don’t want me, Viv. I’m not a good guy.”

I wrapped my arms around myself. “I do, though. I thought we both wanted it.”

He turned his dark gaze on me. “Hell yeah I want it. What man doesn’t want to make a good girl be bad?”

“So, then?”

Shaking his head, he turned away. “It’s not right. You’re a good person, Viv. You’re the kind of person who helps people up when they’re down. I’m the guy who kicks ‘em in the first place.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You don’t know me,” he said sharply. “A couple dates isn’t enough to see what kind of person I am. Don’t be so naïve.”

I drew back slightly at his harsh words. “You’re the kind of person who saved me from being raped.”

“That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” He sprang to his feet. “You think I’m some sort of white fuckin’ knight, when really I’m just a guy who doesn’t allow shit at his club.”

“You would’ve stepped in wherever you saw that happening.”

He shrugged. “Maybe not.”

“You tell yourself that, Kane, even though it’s bullshit.” I smoothed out my hair and tucked my legs beneath a blanket, suddenly self-conscious.

“You just don’t seem to see me, Viv. Everyone else does, so why don’t you? I’m a criminal. An asshole. I’ve hurt people.”

“I’ve hurt people, too. Haven’t we all?”

He sighed heavily. “I don’t mean it like that. I’m talking about ruin. Taking things that are good and destroying them. That’s what I do. And I’m not doing it to you.”

My heart skipped erratically. What was he saying?

“Kane, I think you just need—”

He cut me off with a murderous glare. “I need to stop pretending with these fancy clothes and dates with a goddamn lawyer.”

I felt my expression crumbling. Maybe he was right. Maybe he was an asshole.

“I like you. And I thought you liked me,” I said, hating the note of desperation in my tone.

“I do. That’s why I’m leaving.”

He didn’t even look back. He just opened the door, walked out and slammed it, leaving no doubt.

I sat on my couch for a long time, staring into nothingness. I didn’t cry. The shock just left me numb, wondering how things had taken such a bad turn so quickly.

Kane

THE KITCHEN STAFF MOVED IN slow motion, laughing and talking as they rotated supplies in the walk-in fridge without the slightest sense of urgency. One guy whose name I could never remember was actually sitting down on an empty, upside-down crate.

“Take your time, ladies,” I boomed from my viewpoint just outside the open door. “It’s not like we open in an hour and have a shitload of prep work to get done, right?”

What’s his name sprang to his feet. “Sorry, Mr. Kane.”

“You’re only sorry you got caught,” I growled. “I pay you above average wages and I expect above average work.”

“Yes, sir.”

The group of men worked double time now, silently stacking and organizing.

“Fuckers,” I muttered as I walked away.

To say I was in a bad mood was an epic understatement. I was seeking out employees whose asses I could chew. It was the only therapy I could find for my rage. I went to my office, closed the door and sat down in my desk chair, scrubbing my hands over my face. Being an asshole to everyone who had the misfortune of crossing paths with me wasn’t getting me anywhere. It’d been this way for almost two weeks now. Since the moment I’d walked out of Viv’s place after our second date.

Now I was pissed off at the world and even more pissed off at myself. Why the fuck had I cockblocked myself like that? I wanted her in the worst way, and knowing she wanted me too and I’d turned her down filled me with anger that simmered on the edge of boiling at all times.

And worse, I’d upset her. She was the first respectable woman to see me as all the man she needed. Not just a good fuck, but someone she actually wanted to be with. And I’d hurt her, walked out and never called.

Classic Matthew Kane. Ruining things was what I did best.

My gaze wandered to the photo of a beautiful, smiling little girl on top of a stack of paperwork on my desk. It had come in the mail yesterday and I’d spent so long just staring at it. She had my dark hair and eyes, but the rest of her was nothing like me. She was perfect.

Seeing my biggest failure was too painful. I turned the photo over and returned it to the stack of paperwork.

I’d been a fucking idiot to think I could ever change. Tailored shirts and fancy shoes couldn’t change who I was inside–a selfish, miserable fuck who laid waste to goodness and beauty.

A loud knock sounded on my door.

“Hey Kane?” It was Felicia, one of the servers.

“Get out.”

“But—”

“Get the fuck out,” I growled.

She closed the door.

I was in no state to be around people right now. Too fucking bad I couldn’t escape myself.

Viv

I was deep in thought when Marcus Anderson walked into my office. I unfurrowed my brow and returned his smile. At age thirty-six, he was the youngest partner at my firm. He was also very easy on the eyes, with a tall, athletic build and pale blue eyes with corners that crinkled with laugh lines when he smiled. Cara had been trying to land him for months, though I told her sleeping with a co-worker, and a partner at that, was not a good idea.

“Viv, am I catching you at a bad time?” Marcus asked. “You look like you’re in the middle of a big decision.”

I grinned sheepishly. “Sort of. I’m trying to decide if I want these boots in brown or black.”

He laughed and I closed my laptop screen.

“Come on in,” I said. “I’m done working for the day and was just winding down before I leave.”

It was nearly seven PM, which was a respectable time to leave at our firm.

“Do you have dinner plans?” Marcus asked.

“Uh . . .”

His smile widened. “I had a big case come in today and I’m going to need co-counsel. I wanted to discuss it with you.”

“Me?” I pointed at myself. Lame. But I couldn’t help it. Never had a partner asked me to be co-counsel on a case.