But Kylie had pushed him past the limits of his patience. If she wouldn’t listen to what he wanted, then he was going to make her listen, damn it.
He stalked his way backstage, his hands shoved into the pockets of his dark blue sports jacket. His own ring was still on his finger, and it was going to stay there, damn it. Kylie would see that it could be a good thing to be married to him, damn it. He was already enjoying the thought of being married to her. Waking up next to her every morning? Getting to fuck that sweet, gorgeous body of hers every night? Hearing her laugh whenever and wherever? He liked the thought of that more than he should.
When he got to the greenroom, he scanned it for two faces in particularDaphne, so he could avoid her, and Kylie, so he could pounce on her. Music reverberated in the room and when he heard the strains of Daphne’s voice, he realized it wouldn’t be necessary to avoid her just yet. Well, there was one obstacle down. His gaze moved to the cosmetics table normally set up in a corner of the room, and then he saw her.
Kylie.
She looked good, her makeup perfection on her face. Her buxom figure was shown off in a tight striped white-and-navy shirt that seemed to accentuate her generous breasts and the taper of her waist, and her skirt was a full blue circle that went to her knees. She wore bright sandals and a lot of jewelry and looked stunning and not nearly as wrecked as he felt . . . which made him just as frustrated and angry as before.
Wasn’t she affected the way he was? Or was she somehow able to just shake off this insane need they felt for each other and go on about her day? He sure as shit couldn’t.
Her eyes widened at the sight of him and she grabbed one of her shabby makeup cases and clutched it to her chest, then put her head down and began to walk away, through one of the doors marked STAFF ONLY.
Oh no, she was not about to get away from him.
He hurried after her, grabbing her arm just as she opened the door to slip away.
“Leave me alone,” she hissed, shooting him a furious look. “Seriously, Cade!”
Leave her alone? She was his goddamn wife, whether she wanted to be or not. And he was not about to leave her alone. He released her arm, but when she pushed through the door, he followed her. A pair of security guards were guarding a door nearby, obviously to Daphne’s private room apart from the lounge area. They eyed him as he followed Kylie.
That could be trouble. Time to be ruthless. “Kylie,” he said in a low voice. “You need to find someplace quiet for us to talk”
“No, I don’t!”
“Because if you don’t, I’m going into that next room and telling everyone that we got drunk together and ended up married. And then I’ll leave and let you sort through the fallout.”
Her jaw dropped. She cast another furtive look around, then tucked the makeup case under her arm and grabbed his sleeve with her free hand. “Come with me.”
Fine with him. As long as he got some answers.
Kylie smiled nervously at the guards and pulled her hand from his sleeve long enough to flash her badge, and then continued dragging him down the empty hall. She walked a hundred feet or so, not saying a thing, and then moved to an unlabeled door to their right. She turned the knob and opened it, and then flicked the light on and gestured for him to follow her in.
He did, and as they stepped inside, he realized it was a janitorial closet. Mops and brooms leaned in one corner, and there was a shelving unit full of different types of cleaners. Buckets were stacked neatly on the bottom shelf.
She shut the door behind them and clicked the lock, then turned back to glare at him, the makeup case still clutched against her chest like a shield. “What are you doing here, Cade?” The look on her face was guilty. “Daphne won’t be offstage for at least an hour.”
He clamped down his frustration. “We both know I’m here to see you, not Daphne.”
“Well, I don’t want to see you! I want you to leave me alone.”
“Is that why you left in the middle of sex, then? Because I seem to recall rubbing my fingers between your legs and finding you soaked with need for me.”
Her cheeks colored and she averted her gaze. “That wasn’t desire.”
Oh really? “What was it then?”
She lifted her chin. “It was a mistake.”
Cade’s tenuous control broke. “A mistake,” he repeated flatly. “Is that so?”
Her eyes went wide and she nodded.
He took a dangerous step forward, and he noticed she pressed her back against the wall. His eyes narrowed at that. What did she think he was going to do? Then again, her color was high in her cheeks . . . what did she want him to do? “A mistake,” he said again, just to emphasize it. And he took the case of makeup from her hands and set it on top of a nearby shelf. He wanted her hands free. Cade turned back to her, and he gave her a cold, dangerous smile. Did she want him to prove her wrong? Because he would.