Suddenly, a stronger beam of light flooded in from the door and she heard a familiar voice speak. "So while I'm dealing with one of your ex-lovers, you're in here with another."
Oliver.
Tori's haze lifted and cold reality set in. She gasped and tried to scramble off the table.
He froze and stared. "Tori?"
She closed her eyes, horror spreading through her. What was she doing? No, what had she done?
In no hurry at all, Callum slipped his hand out of her panties and threw his arm around her. "Sorry, Ollie. We tried to keep quiet."
She realized what she must have looked like when Oliver opened the door and saw her with her dress askew, her legs spread and wanton. She'd looked every inch like Callum's mistress. Like his whore.
She scurried out of Cal's embrace and wobbled onto her heels. Oh, dear god. The best of London society and many of the worst of its tabloid reporters were not a hundred feet away, separated by a few thin walls, and she'd allowed herself to be groped by a playboy who'd taken hundreds of women to bed because the instant he'd touched her, her brain had melted.
Tears filled her eyes as she pulled the bodice of her stupid dress up higher. When she'd first tried it on, the silky green gown had made her feel elegant and sexy. Now, despite the expensive dress, she felt cheap.
What kind of twit behaved this way and expected to keep her job? Only a stupid one.
"Tori?" Callum was at her side, smoothing her skirt. "Love, let me help you."
She jerked away from him. "No. I have to go. Oliver, I understand that my services are no longer needed. Please let me know what I owe you to buy out the contract and I'll send you a check." She'd figure out how to raise the money later. "I'll leave you the name of that PR person in New York I mentioned yesterday."
But no way could she walk back into the Thurston-Hughes offices with her head held high. Never again. Certainly not, given the pure ice in Oliver's eyes. She shrank back from his seeming fury and contempt.
"We'll discuss that at a later date," Oliver bit out. "If the two of you are through, rejoin the ball. Miss Glen, you should take a moment to make yourself more presentable, unless this fundraiser was merely a pretense to focus the tabloids on you. If that's the case, then feel free to enter the party looking like you've just had intercourse. The press will write a nasty story about you, but don't think a little embarrassment will have any effect on my brother. He's used to getting caught in the act."
Callum stepped in front of her as though he meant to shield her. "If you're angry, take it out on me. Don't you be a prick to her."
She hated standing in their shadows, feeling like a piece of white trash, when only moments before she'd felt so close to Callum. That was the lie of sex for women, she realized. The act could feel so beautiful and intimate. The minute it was over, she was nothing but a whore.
Tori trembled, cold seeping down to her bones.
"If you'll excuse me, I need to get cleaned up." Her voice shook.
"I'll take you home. We can leave here quietly," Callum offered. "Oliver, I'll talk to you in the morning."
"No, you're staying. You've got a speech to make in twenty minutes for your fundraiser," Oliver snarled. "Do your fucking job."
She wished they would both leave. "You have to go, Callum. If you don't thank the people for attending and donating, they'll remark on it. Given the bad press of late, it won't do the company any good."
He clenched his teeth and reached for her hand. "I don't want to leave you. You're rattled, vulnerable."
She couldn't touch him now or she'd throw herself into his arms and cry. He couldn't shelter her from Oliver's wrath. She had made a terrible lapse in judgment, and he couldn't save her from that. "I'll be fine, Callum. Just give me a moment."
His jaw tightened. "This isn't over, Tori. I'll see you in the ballroom. Oliver, why don't you come with me?"
The eldest Thurston-Hughes looked her up and down, lingering on her rumpled skirt and swollen lips. Tori felt three inches tall before they both turned and exited, leaving her alone.
She'd ruined utterly everything. Now, she had to hope she could leave with some smidgeon of dignity. She feared that asking for a sparkling professional reputation was too much to hope for. And she wouldn't even consider her heart.
With tears running down her face, she planned her escape.
* * * *
Oliver watched the conference room door. He wasn't a fool. Tori meant to run. No way she would choose any other path. As much as he seethed with anger, he didn't want her gone from his life. He might be a stupid bastard, but he couldn't abide the thought of her no longer near him.
A young woman in a daring evening gown stepped up to Callum and said something, rubbing against him as if she was in heat. His brother flirted back with ease. Oliver scoffed. So much for true love.