…RILEY…
I recoiled, pressing myself harder against the counter. “No. Thank you. I’m going to bed.”
“Ah, c’mon,” he persisted, his gaze dropping to my chest, lingering there. “You’re not Cassidy. You’re not that prim and proper… or that cruel.” A wave of nausea rolled through me. Why does he keep saying her name? What history did they have? The possibilities were vile, making my head spin.
The way he was looking at me—like I was a substitute, a consolation prize—made me feel filthy. I don't have time for this. I've got to leave now.
“I said I’m going to bed,” I stated, my voice firmer now, laced with a disgust I didn’t try to hide. I pushed off the counter and tried to move past him.
I was halfway to the door when a rough hand caught my wrist.
I froze.
His grip wasn’t painful, just
