emerged like an
apparition from the darkened interior, slowly coming toward her.
The shirtsleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to reveal his
bronze, hair sprinkled forearms.
She set her shoes on the
table against the mirrored wall and planted her most becoming smile
on her face in an effort to counteract the disapproving set of
his.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry I
didn’t get here earlier. Feel free to give me a spanking,” she
teased.
He didn’t crack a smile,
stopping a few feet away. “Where have you been?” he asked in an
oddly quiet voice.
“At the office, of course,”
she answered. She couldn’t decipher the strange look on his
face.
“Working late again. You
knew I was coming back tonight, but you couldn’t tear yourself away
from…whatever you were doing to be here to greet me.”
She had really screwed up
this time. He was very upset with her. “I’m sorry, but when you see
the numbers I have, you’ll understand why I couldn’t break
away.”
He took a step forward but
stopped again. He eyed her, examining her features in a curious
way, as if he was seeing her for the first time. But there was
something else. His eyes were hard and cold. She’d finally pushed
him too far.
“Renny, I know you’re mad
at me. I’ll make it up to you.” For the first time, Sabrina noticed
the photos in his hand. They were turned inward toward his leg, so
she couldn’t see the images, but her heart rate sped up with
trepidation. “What are those?” she asked in a low voice.
Renaldo tossed the photos on the floor with a
mixture of anger and distaste. They fanned out across the polished
wood, and she could clearly see the images. They turned her
stomach.
“You tell me,” he said in a quiet voice. “Who
is this man and what are you doing with him?”
Sabrina swayed, feeling lightheaded. She
reached for the table to steady herself. “Where did you get those?”
But she already knew where they came from. He’d found the photos she’d hidden away in her desk.
“You didn’t answer the question,” Renaldo
reminded her.
She couldn’t get the words out because she
didn’t know what to say or how to explain.
“Were you with him tonight?” Renaldo
asked.
Sabrina’s eyes flew to his face. He spoke
calmly, but she could see the darker emotions hidden in his eyes,
ready to unleash on her.
“No, I was at work. I swear,” Sabrina said,
her voice trembling.
“And why should I believe you? It seems that
when I’m out of town, you find alternative ways to keep yourself
entertained.”
Sabrina shook her head. “No. That’s not
true.”
He jabbed his index finger toward the floor
in barely restrained fury. “Then explain this to me.”
His composure was slipping fast. The words
were said behind gritted teeth and his accent thickened. How could
she explain when she didn’t know herself how this could have
happened?
“I don’t know how,” she admitted weakly.
“They are not…” his voice trailed off as he
fumbled for the correct English word. “They are not doctored?”
She recognized that he was grasping at
straws, hoping she would say they were doctored photos. If only she
could. If only she didn’t know herself that she had betrayed him
with her actions. She’d managed to keep it a secret for as long as
she could.
“No,” she said quietly.
The breath he drew in was harsh and loud in
the grave-like quiet of the house. “So you have been lying to me
and sneaking around behind my back? For how long?”
“I never sneaked around behind you back,”
Sabrina said. “It-it just happened. I didn’t plan it.”
Renaldo gave a disgusted snort. “It’s hard to
believe you when I find photos of you in intimate positions with
another man, hidden away in your desk for enjoyment when I am not
here.”
“That’s not why I hid them. I was ashamed. I
didn’t want you to find them.” She pressed her palms to her hot
cheeks. “Please. You have to believe me.”
“You should leave
Sex Retreat [Cowboy Sex 6]
Jarrett Hallcox, Amy Welch