Loving The Temperamental Adonis
Chapter 297 - 35

Chapter 297: Chapter 35

After taking Eric from the veterinarian, the big dog bounded onto the floor of the Porsche Macan backseat and Rayne had to scoot over into the center to avoid stepping on him.

The car had been assigned to them in the hotel to take them to the airport and Eric had taken almost all the space in the backseat.

Max went around to the passenger side and opened the back door. "Oh man, this is going to be a tight fit," he said, wedging himself in beside Rayne. Once he was inside, his left thigh and leg were pressed against hers, and there was no room for his left arm, so he put it across the back of the seat behind her.

They had sat this way hundreds of times before, but now their proximity felt awkward, and having his arm casually resting there seemed all wrong to Rayne who was still finding it hard to believe that she’d been used.

Max felt it, too; she could sense his tension. He was wounded and angry at her betrayal. She didn’t deserve his kindness or his compassion, and the fact that he was offering both right now, when she needed them most and deserved them least, made her feel so ashamed that she bent her head and tears gathered in her eyes.

Eric laid his big head on her knee, his unblinking, adoring gaze on her face, and she reached out to scratch his head while two tears ran down her cheeks.

It belatedly dawned on Rayne that she hadn’t even given Max the courtesy of an apology for what she’d done, and she swallowed twice, trying to drag her voice through the knot of emotion in her throat. "I...I am sorry," she whispered.

"I know you are."

Wishing desperately that she had a tissue, Rayne felt in her purse, but there were none in there. Max’s garment bag was on the seat beside her, and she reached for the zipper on it while tears began streaking in earnest from her eyes. "Do you have tissues or a handkerchief or something I could use in here?"

"I think so," Max replied. "Pass it over to me and I’ll look."

"Don’t bother," she said, already tugging on the zipper. "I’ll check it—"

"Don’t open—" Max said, but it was too late.

Lying atop all the neatly packed masculine attire in Max’s bag was a thick, square, red Tiffany box tied with a maroon ribbon. It was a ring box.

Rayne stared at it through a fresh haze of tears, and for the second time in less than an hour, she covered her face and cried her heart out.

He hesitated, his jaw hardening as he stared at the ring box, and then he lowered his arm around her shaking shoulders and curved his hand around her arm, drawing her close so she could weep against his chest.

"I didn’t know you meant to propose to me, but I... cheated on you. I am so sorry. I don’t deserve even your forgiveness," Rayne whispered brokenly.

"And I don’t mean to forgive you, Rayne," he whispered, caressing her arm.

"I hate myself," she said fiercely.

He thought about that for a moment. "I hate you, too," he said, but there was a small smile in his voice that made Rayne believe he was just joking.

Rayne closed her eyes. She couldn’t let herself think about Liam yet or she would shatter. Exhausted from the turmoil, and the struggle to keep thoughts of him at bay, she dozed off as they moved smoothly along the short distance to the airport.

When she opened her eyes, she found that Max had taken her hand in his and he was holding it tightly on his lap. "Wake up, we’re here," he said, and took his hand away.

While she was sleeping, he’d slid the dazzling diamond ring from the box onto her ring finger. Rayne stared at it and started to shake her head in protest. "I can’t—"

"Don’t protest yet. Here is what I’m ’proposing,’" Max clarified. "I need some time to get past what has happened between us, and so do you. In the meantime, I suggest we announce our engagement to the media."

"Why?"

He leaned close and whispered, "Well, for one thing, that ring will look very nice with whatever dress you wear to the new shopping center launching this weekend. My family is one of the investors, and remember you’ve agreed to go there with me as my partner."

Rayna looked at him in disbelief as he took his arm away and reached into his pocket to tip the hotel driver. "What’s the other thing?"

"Most of the Thompson family will be there because they are also one of the mall investors. Now," he continued conversationally as he opened the car door, "I don’t know about you, but if I were in your place, I’d like it if Liam Thompson was forced to realize that he’d been used instead of the other way around—"

"Used as what?" Rayne asked bitterly.

He slanted her a sideways smile tinged with just a little regret. "Your last fling before your marriage."

---

Liam had been standing at the shore of Pineville where they had agreed to meet at 5:00 PM, but it was 5:30 PM now with no signs of her. However, he wasn’t discouraged. He continued to wait patiently for her, believing she would show up sooner or later.

He stood there, completely unaware of the men secretly taking his pictures from a distance.

"What’s he waiting for?" one of the men asked his partner, who shrugged casually.

"Who knows. Send the shots to the boss so he can forward them to the FBI. He’s been standing there for almost an hour."

The other man raised the camera again and focused on Thompson for another quick shot. "The guy is a woman magnet," he remarked a little wistfully, watching through the camera’s lens as a pretty woman strolled into the frame.

"Excuse me," a female voice said. "Could you tell me what time it is?" she asked with a flowery voice as she glanced up at the most handsome man she had ever set eyes on.

"It’s five-forty," Liam replied without looking at his watch or the woman. He’d just checked the time, and his attention was now fastened on a new boat appearing on the horizon.

As the boat grew larger, it appeared to be about the right size and moving at about the right speed for a tourist boat.

The island coastline was dotted with marinas and wharfs, however, and most boats coming over the horizon appeared to be headed in his general direction at first, so Liam kept a tight rein on his expectations.

A few minutes later, the boat was still angled toward Pineville shoreline, and Liam’s pulse began edging up, notch by notch, while his gaze fastened on the boat’s bow, willing it not to change direction again.

The boat came nearer, grew larger, and Liam began searching for a glimpse of shining red hair among the blur of passengers on deck.

A few minutes later, the Island Sun had begun to set and the last passenger on the boat had walked past him without the signs of his woman being among them.

Liam returned to his vantage point on the other side of the shoreline and scanned the horizon for signs of another tourist boat headed towards his direction. Obviously, the boyfriend’s flight had been delayed, and he’d arrived an hour or two late, which was delaying Rayne.

Smiling a little, he marveled, yet again, that neither he nor Rayne had thought to exchange phone numbers.

In the hours before she left this morning, they’d shared a sunrise, laughter, several stories, long kisses, and the most exciting, satisfying lovemaking of his life.

They had not, however, shared their phone numbers—which wasn’t all that surprising on his part, Liam thought wryly, because he’d lost the ability and the desire to concentrate on anything else when she was near.

After thirty minutes and another boat arrived, Liam was no longer smiling.

The sun had set behind the horizon leaving behind it’s orange hue in the sky, and as darkness loomed, his mind began conjuring unbearable images of Rayne cowering in a corner from her enraged boyfriend or lying alone in the villa, injured or worse.

Once those possibilities had occurred to him, he was powerless to ignore them.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, and after being transferred to two operators, he was finally able to get through to the Island Club.

At the last moment, he remembered the manager who knew about Rayne and him was away, and he asked to speak to whoever was in charge instead. A male answered and asked how he could be of service.

"This is Liam Thompson," Liam replied, trying to sound less frightened than he felt. "Miss Wallace, in villa five, was feeling ill earlier, and she isn’t answering her phone. Please send someone down to check on her while I hold on."

"Miss Wallace?" The man repeated. "Villa five? Are you certain?"

"Very certain," Liam snapped in frustration. "Send someone to go check on her immediately."

"I’m happy to be able to rid your fears, Mr. Thompson," the man said cheerfully after a moment. "The phone in villa five isn’t being answered because the villa is unoccupied."

"What do you mean it’s unoccupied?" he asked, taken aback.

"I mean that the couple occupying villa five checked out at four o’clock today. Is there anything—"

Liam ended the call, disconnecting the man in midsentence, but his brain refused to process the obvious implications of what he’d just heard.

Paralyzed with disbelief, he stood where he was, gazing blindly at the darkened horizon, his phone hanging loosely from his hand.

Not once since Rayne had waved goodbye to him this morning had he ever considered that she’d leave him standing there at the shore.

She was in love with him, and he was in love with her. Their feelings for each other were deepening with every hour they spent together.

They were meant to be, and Rayne had realized that even before he had. Rayne wanted a connection, and they had it in unbelievable abundance.

She didn’t have that with her boyfriend. She would never have checked out of the Island Club and gone home with him without even giving him the courtesy of an explanation.

The obvious answer was that the boyfriend had checked out and gone home alone.

Rayne was probably on her way to him right now, as eager to kiss him hello as he was to return her kiss.

There was a way to find out...

Slowly, Liam pulled his wallet out of his pocket and removed the veterinarian’s contact card he’d tucked into his pocket yesterday. Looking at it, he tapped on his phone screen with his thumb, his heart beginning to beat with dread.

"This is Liam Thompson," he told the vet when he answered the phone. "I was wondering if Miss Wallace came by to pick up Eric yet."

"Yes, she did. She picked him up several hours ago, and he was very happy to see her. I had all the documents ready that she needed to travel with him."

"That’s good..." Liam said, his chest constricting in pained disbelief. "Did she bring someone else to help her with the dog?"

"Oh yes, she did. A nice, handsome gentleman with blond hair and blue eyes."

Liam’s heart shattered at the vet’s words. A sharp, searing pain coursed through him, and he felt as if the ground had been pulled from beneath his feet. Disbelief, raw and unrelenting, twisted inside him, making it hard to breathe.

He clenched his jaw and turned, walking briskly towards his private jet at the hangar few walks away.

Few minutes later, the white jet roared down the runway; then it lifted off and vanished swiftly into the darkness, its presence in the sky marked only by tiny flashes of light.