“I am. And I’m perfectly okay with it.”
“Really?” He lifts a brow, reminding me of Perry.
No. I shouldn’t think that. This man is nothing like my Perry.
“You’d fit in with my family perfectly.” His smile is slow, his dark eyes sparkling with an unfamiliar emotion.
I take another step back. “I’m not interested.”
“You should be.” He takes a step forward, looming over me like a dark cloud. “Don’t you know who I am?”
“No, remember? You never told me.”
His chuckle is deep. Edged with meanness. He grabs hold of my arm again, making me gasp as he hauls me into him. “I’m related to the Morellis, Charlotte. On the mother’s side.”
Oh God.
“But your last name isn’t Morelli,” I whisper. “It’s McTiernan.”
No wonder Lucian reminded me of someone. He reminded me of Seamus.
The man I met in Paris when I was nineteen and so incredibly immature and completely sheltered. I was looking for someone to rebel with and he fit the bill perfectly. So much older than me. Darkly handsome. I fell for every line this man told me. He seduced me in class. After class. In his office. He flirted with an effortless charm I found captivating. He got me into his bed quickly, and I willingly gave up my virginity to him. Like a complete idiot.
We snuck around, and he kept me like his dirty little secret. He never allowed me to post photos of us together on social media. Always said it would put his job at the university at risk.
Now I realize he didn’t want his girlfriend to find out.
“Tell your fiancé he’s got something I want.” He lets me go and I stumble, nearly dropping my coffee. “And I’m going to come collect soon.”
His tone is ominous, despite the dazzling smile on his face and I realize what he’s referring to.
Me.
Seamus McTiernan still wants me.
Not going to happen.
I don’t even realize I throw the coffee at him until it’s too late. The cup smacks him square in the chest, the lid popping off and spilling hot liquid all over the front of his button-down shirt. He yelps in surprise, his expression enraged as he shouts and curses. Women in the coffee shop scream, startled by his reaction, but I don’t stick around to witness it.
I run. Straight for the elevators, slapping the up button over and over again, glancing back to see if he’s following me.
So far, so good.
The elevator takes forever and I yank my phone out of my pocket, trying to find Perry’s name with trembling fingers. When I finally do, I hit the call button, a breath of relief escaping me when the elevator doors open and a stream of people exit the car.
I jump in, the ringing in my ears making me agitated. I hit the PH button and then smack the “close door” button repeatedly, shouting, “Sorry!” when the doors slide closed on a woman just as she’s about to enter.
Perry finally answers, his voice warm. “Hey, beautiful.”
Any other day those words would send a thrill through me. But not now. “I need your help.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t—I can’t explain it right now. I need you to come back to the hotel. Right away.”
“Why, Charlotte? Tell me.”
“There’s someone here I know. Someone from my past.”