She was furious at how unfair he was being. Spoiled little rich boy. “You’re always asking me to trust you. But you clearly don’t trust me. Hell, you clearly don’t even respect me.”
“I’m so sorry, Mallory,” he began, taking a step towards her. But she drew back from him as though he were advancing on her with a sword.
“Stay away from me, Jake,” she hissed.
But he didn’t stop until she was trapped between his body and the doors behind her, blocking her in just as the horned man had done. She had had it with men pushing her around. And she definitely wasn’t going to stand for anyone touching her without her permission again. Riding her anger like a wave, she drew her hand back and cracked it hard against Jake’s cheek. Her palm stung from the impact.
He reeled back from her, his eyes wide with shock. “Don’t touch me, Jake Cleary,” she said acidly. “Ever. Again.”
Fighting back tears, she darted around him and flung open the door that opened onto the canal. A gondola was waiting, and she jumped into it.
“Mallory, wait!” Jake was standing in the doorway, a dark, masculine silhouette lit from behind by the warm yellow light of the grand old building. Mallory hoped that the darkness obscured the glistening of the tears on her face.
“Leave me alone, Jake. I’m going home. Don’t call me. I never want to see you again.” She tried her best for a snappish tone, but even in her own ears her voice sounded miserable.
The End… For Now