Sherry shook her head, turning her face in towards Marie’s neck. “I’ve been meaning to tell him, but every time I’ve tried to get the words out he manages to distract me by saying something that melts my heart, or by touching me until all I can think about is having sex with him.” Hot tears slid down her cheeks, soaking Marie’s pastel-blue blouse, she paid them no mind and continued to stroke her hair.
“Je regret,” Marie murmured softly. “I am so sorry, Sherry. You told him no?”
“Of course I did,” Sherry said bitterly. “And I broke his fucking heart. I could see it in his eyes, for a split second. And after that I could tell he wanted to strangle me.” She let out a choked laugh. “My God, Marie. I’m such a bitch. I’m a two-timing, cold-hearted, slutty bitch.”
“You’re not a bitch,” Marie chastised her. “And if you were cold-hearted, you wouldn’t be sitting in my flat soaking my shirt with your tears.” Sherry reared back, mortified, but Marie grabbed her shoulder before she could pull away completely. “Mon amie, it’s alright—you don’t have to be ashamed. People make mistakes sometimes, and you’re human just like anyone else. I can understand why you didn’t tell Roberto about Nick before, and I don’t blame you. But you need to tell him now.”
Sherry sighed, then reached up to wipe the tears from her face. “How am I going to tell him, Marie?” she asked wearily. “He was so angry when I left him. He’s going to be even angrier after I do this.”
Marie handed her a tissue, and Sherry used it to blow her nose. “I cannot answer that for you,” her friend replied after Sherry threw the tissue in the trash, “but it’s not something you can run away from any longer. You’re only going to hurt him more if you do.” She paused. “Maybe if you can persuade him to hear you out, to listen rationally, it might not go so badly. If he loves you, he might very well understand.”
Sherry laughed hollowly. “How can he understand when I don’t even understand it myself?” The tears began sliding down her cheeks again, and Marie pulled her close again.
“Shh, cherie, shh,” Marie rubbed her back soothingly. “Don’t worry about it. Everything will be alright.”
God, she hoped so. She really needed something to be alright, for once in her life.
****
Sherry got out of Marie’s car and headed upstairs to her flat. The night she’d spent with Marie, enjoying glasses of wine and watching bad comedies had been somewhat therapeutic—she’d gotten away from everything for a while and simply enjoyed her friend’s companionship. It had been easier to do that than to stay in the flat that Roberto had helped pick out, and not to mention completely furnish for her. Oh God, this was a mess. He had done so much for her, and she had treated him like dirt.
Stepping out of the elevator, she ran her hand nervously through her fingers as she thought about what she would do when she got to work. Should she tell Roberto right then? Or should she avoid him entirely and wait until the end of the day?
The choice was taken from her when she opened her door and saw him standing just inside, immaculate in one of his business suits. His black hair was pulled back from his handsome face, which was currently set in hard, unforgiving lines. For the first time, she felt a tremor of fear as she approached him.
“Good morning,” she said hesitantly as she stopped in front of him.
“Good morning.” His voice was pleasant, but that hard, dangerous look glittering in his bright green eyes did nothing to dispel her anxiety. “And just where the fuck have you been, Mrs. Williams?”
Mrs. Williams. It shouldn’t have hurt her that he was reverting to formalities, and she wasn’t going to let him see that it did.
“Why don’t you come on into the living room, Mr. Zanetto,” she said smoothly, removing her coat and hanging it up on the rack by the door. “I don’t think we should have this conversation near the hall.”
He followed behind her, and she could feel his gaze glaring hot, searing daggers of rage into her back. Balling her hands into fists, she did her best to hide the trembling that was starting, but it was hard when she felt so despondent. Roberto was already angry with her, and she hadn’t even started talking yet. Her legs nearly gave out from under her at the thought of what he might do after she finally told him.
“Would you like something to drink?” she asked, then gasped as he grabbed her by the arm and tossed her onto the couch. His grip remained firm as he lowered his body down next to hers, leaving her very little personal space.
“Enough games, Sherry,” he growled, eyes boring into her. “Why did you run away after my marriage proposal?”
“I—” Sherry tried to speak, but her throat closed up at the accusing look in his eyes.
Roberto threw up his hands. “Sherry, I just don’t understand you. I could see why my proposal might’ve been a little sudden, and that you may not be ready for the idea of marriage since we’ve only known each other for short period of time. But I don’t understand why you left without so much as a note to tell me where you were going. My family’s been worried sick about you—the children cried for hours, thinking that you’d been kidnapped.”
A pang of guilt struck her heart—she hadn’t given a thought to his family when she’d run off. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to worry your family. I honestly didn’t think they’d care that much.”
Roberto took her by the shoulders. “What do you mean? Couldn’t you tell how much they liked you, Sherry? They adored you. I adore you.” He searched her face, but all he could see was the rising panic in her eyes. She was sitting on something, he knew she was, and he had a feeling that whatever it was had been holding their relationship down from the very beginning. The panic had him holding his anger in check because he didn’t want to frighten her out of telling him, but he was frustrated that after all they’d done together, she was still hiding something from him.
Sherry looked away. “Roberto, that’s the problem. You were never supposed to adore me. There’s no way I can marry you.”
“Why not?” he demanded.
“Because I’m already married.”
He wouldn’t have been more shocked if she’d told him she was an alien from another planet. All he could do was stare at her and wait for the ringing to clear from his ears. She was married? All this time he’d been making love to her, catering to her hand and foot, and she was married? He’d introduced her to his family, for God’s sake. Shame flooded him at that very thought. How could he have been so blind?
“The man at the Park,” he finally said. “He was your husband.”
“He came to surprise me. I told him about you.” Sherry whispered, her eyes fixed on the ground.
Roberto shot up off the couch. “Oh, so that makes it okay? You tell your husband that you’re having an affair, but you don’t tell the person you’re having the affair with?” He laughed harshly. “I thought it was supposed to be the other way around. My God, you’ve played me for a fool.”
“What?” Sherry’s face came up, and Roberto could see the tears swimming in her eyes. He forced himself to ignore them.
“You strung me along like a lovesick puppy!” he spat, dragging her to her feet and taking her by the shoulders so he could shake her. “This was all just a game, and you made me fall in love with you!”
“It was never supposed to be about love!” she cried, gripping his forearms with her slender fingers as she tried to dislodge his grip. “I told you that! It was just sex!”
“Just sex, was that it?” Roberto growled, then surprised them both by crushing Sherry’s body against his. “If that’s all you want from me, then that’s exactly what you’ll get.”
Before Sherry could protest he was kissing her, ruthlessly invading her mouth with his tongue. His left hand fisted in her hair while the fingers of his right hand dug sharply into her hip. She should have been fighting him, squirming and kicking. Instead she was dragging him closer, her fingers working at the buttons of his starched shirt as her tongue tangled with his own. Lust destroyed her, wiping away every single thought until the need to have his cock inside her was all that mattered.
Underwear and clothing flew every which way as they frantically tore one another’s garments off, and soon they were on the floor and he was pushing his thick, hard length into her. She moaned a sound that was both pleasure and pain, and tried to wrap her legs around his waist. He kept his hands firmly clamped on her hips, pushing them down, preventing her from having control.
Roberto fucked her hard, lust and rage riding him like a cowboy trying to break a particularly bad-tempered stallion. He’d wanted to wrap his fingers around her neck nearly as badly as he wanted to fuck her, but in the end his lust had won out—something he couldn’t understand. He rarely ever fucked women who pissed him off; he’d never been a masochist, nor had he ever prolonged an emotionally unhealthy relationship.
And yet she was still beautiful to him, sprawled naked on the Tunisian rug, her dark curls fanning out and contrasting nicely with the bold colors. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, but her cheeks were flushed with color, her wonderfully plump lips parted as she cried out in pleasure. A part of him wanted to pull out, shoot his seed all over her, then get up and walk away. He damn well should, after everything she’d done to him. Why should he give a damn about her pleasure?
In the end, he couldn’t make himself do it—he told himself it was because her pussy felt too damn good around his cock. Reaching down between them, he stroked her clit with the pad of his thumb, driving her wild as he continued to thrust with a single-minded intensity. She exploded, her pussy clenching around his cock as she convulsed, and a choked cry escaped his lips as he went over the edge with her.
Sherry’s eyes remained tightly shut, but she couldn’t stop the tears from leaking out as she felt Roberto’s warm body leave her. Opening her eyes, she watched as he pulled on his clothes. She knew she should get up, at least put on a robe, but her body was paralyzed.
Shrugging on his suit jacket, he turned his now cold-eyed stare at her. Now she did move—to grab a blanket off the couch, simply because she couldn’t stand to see him looking so dispassionately upon her naked body. She felt as though she’d been judged and found sorely lacking, despite the fact that just moments ago he’d shot his seed inside her.
“Goodbye, Mrs. Williams,” he said after a long, tense moment, then turned on his heel and walked out the door.
****
Sherry slowly placed the receiver back on the cradle, her heart heavier than an anvil. For the past few weeks she had gone back and forth about this decision, but she had talked to the HR Representative and it was official—there would be no going back. And why would she want to? Her life in Paris had become a walking nightmare. There was no reason to stay. She’d already talked to Marie, who had, in the end, supported her decision.
Roberto and Sherry hadn’t spoken in weeks—he’d given her a civil nod whenever they’d passed in the hallway, and that was about it. She noticed that the stack of paperwork she sifted through daily had nearly tripled, and that her reports were coming back these days with a ton of nitpicky corrections that were bordering on childish in nature, but she didn’t have the guts to go and confront Roberto about it—hell, she could barely look him in the eye anymore.
Unfortunately, she could no longer avoid him. She was going to have to see him today.
Taking a moment, she pulled out her compact and brushed up her make-up and hair—she couldn’t face Roberto looking anything less than her best, even if he was just her boss now. She dabbed a bit more concealer on the shadows circling beneath her eyes, then gathered up her briefcase and headed up to Roberto’s section of the building.
There was no sense in putting it off now that things were decided.
As she approached his office, Sherry heard a throaty, feminine laugh, and turned the corner to see Simone breezing out of Roberto’s office. A sly smile curved the model’s lips as she caught sight of Sherry approaching, and an unreasonable hatred bubbled up inside Sherry’s heart.
“So nice to see you again,” Simone purred as she sauntered past, and Sherry resisted the urge to grab the bitch by her perfect red hair and plant a shiner on that million-dollar face. After all, it wasn’t as though she had a claim to Roberto anymore—she’d forfeited that weeks ago.
Sucking in a breath, she approached Monique, who quickly assumed a bright, professional smile—though not fast enough to hide the sympathy Sherry caught in her eyes. That was the other reason Sherry avoided coming up here these past few weeks—she knew that Monique thought Roberto had jilted her and gone back into Simone’s waiting arms, and in her eyes Sherry was the victim. While she couldn’t bring herself to tell Monique the truth, Sherry knew damn well she didn’t deserve the secretary’s sympathy. It was she who had brought their relationship to an end.
“Is Mr. Zanetto available? I have something urgent I need to speak to him about.”
“Certainly.”
Roberto looked up as Sherry entered his office, careful to keep his expression cool as he studied her. She looked professional as ever in her black blazer, pencil skirt and platform pumps that made her luscious legs stretch for miles. He remembered how those legs wrapped around his hips, his shoulders; how her thighs had clamped around his skull as he’d eaten her sweet, hot pussy on the kitchen counter of his flat.