Julie Miller - Rescued By The Marine

“Where are you going? I can’t let you leave on your own. Especially when you’re like this.”

“Like what? Awake to reality? Standing up for myself? Saving what little dignity I have left?” The strain of the evening intensified the rash on her torso. Ignoring the habitual urge to scratch, she dug into her purse. “Fine. Then you’re coming with me. Here are my keys.” She stepped into the elevator, handing them to the confused bodyguard. “Bring my car around back by the kitchen entrance. I’ll meet you there. I’m not walking through that lobby and facing all those people again.”

“Pellegrino will want to know your destination. He doesn’t like changing plans when security is already in place. The rain is pouring—”

“I don’t know where I’m going. I don’t care if I get wet. I just have to get out of here.” She jerked at the crash of splintering wood from down the hallway and punched the first-floor button. “Now.”

Brandon grabbed the door to stop the elevator from closing. “What do I tell Pellegrino and your father?”

“Tell them I’m not feeling well. Tell them I’m flying to the moon. I don’t care.”

“Samantha!” Kyle’s shout reached her through the makeshift barriers she’d put up. The closet door was down.

Brandon pulled back his jacket, resting his hand on the gun holstered there. “You want me to stop him?”

At last someone was on her side. But she needed him to do what she needed him to do. “Either get the car right now, or I’m leaving on my own.”

He nodded and ran toward the stairs, allowing the doors to close. “I’ll meet you under the parking canopy at the kitchen’s delivery entrance in back.” She could hear him reporting in as the elevator dropped toward the first floor. “This is Metz. Be advised that Filly One is...”

Without even a glance toward the lobby, Samantha hurried toward the kitchen area by one of the lodge’s service corridors. With the catering staff out working the party, there was only the chef and her assistant in the kitchen when Samantha pushed her way through the swinging metal door. Ignoring their curious looks and offers to help, she quickened her steps toward the walk-in refrigerator and storage pantry near the back entrance. When the door crashed open behind her and the assistant squeaked in startled surprise, Samantha ran as fast as her aching feet and starched dress allowed.

“Samantha! You have to talk to me.”

Kyle hadn’t stopped to put on his shoes, and his stockinged feet made no noise as he raced up behind her. She yelped when he grabbed her and spun her around, backing her into a stainless-steel worktable, pinning her there with his hips and hands. His chiseled cheekbones were flushed with exertion, his perfect white teeth clenched as he panted in her face. “I thought you were an adult. Running away is what a child does. You owe it to me to listen.”

“I owe you ?” His fingers clamped down tightly enough to bruise her skin when she shoved at his chest. “Let go of me.”

“Clear the room,” he ordered the catering staff. When they were too stunned by the argument to budge, he shoved a tray of hors d’oeuvres onto the floor. “Get out!”

Samantha wished she could leave with them as the door swung shut on their backsides. Dishes and pans rattled on the steel table as she squirmed in Kyle’s grasp. “You need to let me go.”

He released her arms to grab either side of her face, pulling at the pins that held her long hair in place and pinching her scalp, forcing her to look up at him. “You and I are getting married. We have an agreement. Your family likes me.”

“Some more than others, apparently.”

“Don’t get snarky with me. Yes, I screwed up. You have to forgive me.”

“Says who?”

“You think there aren’t things I would change about you?” he challenged.

How was this her fault? She blinked back the tears that stung her eyes and fought through her emotions to find the words she needed to say. “I’m not the one who’s cheating.”

“I have a weakness. Okay?”

“No. It’s not okay. You didn’t even pick out the ring yourself. You couldn’t spend that much time on me?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“I can see that.”

“With work! I was a little strapped for cash and couldn’t afford the ring I wanted to get you, so Joyce helped me out.” He was the son of a millionaire and had a good job with the Midas Group. How could he possibly be short of money? Before she could voice the accusation, Kyle touched his sweaty forehead to hers in a supposedly tender gesture, and Samantha wondered how she’d ever found him handsome or charming. “I am committed to us. You know I’m good for you. I help others see beyond the professor and the glasses. We make a good team.”

What about needing her? Or wanting her? Or any other stupid compliment that could make her believe he was ever in love with her? The urge to cry disappeared. She let his lips brush against hers, but the moment he thought he was winning her back and his hold on her eased, Samantha twisted from his grasp.

He paused long enough to curse before pursuing her again. “This is a misunderstanding. You need to clue in to how the real world works. I have needs.”

She whirled around. “You need to keep your pants zipped around other women. If you wanted to get laid, you should have asked me. It’s not like I haven’t wanted you to...teach me more.”

The creep actually smiled. He cupped his fingers against her cheek. “Is that what this is about? Baby, you’re too good for a quickie.”

She slapped his hand away. “But my sister’s not?” She didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.

“Taylor’s young and fun. But she means nothing to me. You mean everything.”

“Liar. How many others have there been?”

At least he had the good grace to look guilty. For a split second. Then he was reaching for her again. “Look. Truth. You’re learning. Eventually the sex will be great between us, but until you get some confidence—”

She slapped his hand away. “A relationship isn’t just about sex. It’s about trust and caring and respect. You have no clue—”

When she felt his hand on her arm again, Samantha reached for the first weapon she could find, a heavy skillet resting on the edge of the metal table. She swung around, whacking him in the shoulder. He cursed, grabbing his bruised arm. She knew a moment of guilt, sensing she’d gone too far.

“You are not dumping me.” When his eyes narrowed in rage instead of pain, her brain took over.

She had a feeling that escape wasn’t just an emotional need at that moment. Shoving the pan into his gut, she forced Kyle back a step. She ordered him to open the refrigerator door. “Get in there. Get in or I swear I’ll run straight to my father and tell him you were banging Taylor tonight instead of earning your spot as Midas’s newest vice president.”

Kyle raised his hands and moved toward her. “You don’t want to upset your father tonight...”

“Get in!”

If she’d had any doubts that she was nothing more than a means to an end for Kyle, his willingness to step inside the cooler in exchange for her silence confirmed the truth. As disgusted with herself for being taken in by his promises as she was with the man himself, Samantha closed the refrigerator door and slipped the pin into the lock.

Instead of cursing her or shouting her name, Kyle pulled his cell phone from a pocket and held it up to the window beside his gloating face for her to see.

“How did you...?” Had he broken out through their room? Taken the time to retrieve his phone? Did he have a second cell? Whom was he calling?

Samantha dropped the skillet and opened the back door.