Soaring On Love. Joy AveryЧитать онлайн книгу.
that made her look as if she was in mourning.
“That was so beautiful,” the woman said, nearing them. “Too bad it’s nothing but a bunch of bull—”
“Natalie!” Cyrus barked. His nostrils flared and a vein pulsed in his neck. “What in the hell are you doing here?” he said through clenched teeth.
Fine lines etched into Tressa’s forehead. “Natalie? You know this woman, Cyrus?”
“Yes, he does. Very well.” Natalie placed her hands on her hips. “We had an intimate work relationship until a few days ago,” she said with a smirk.
Cyrus looked as if he could snatch the woman’s heart out with his hand. Spittle flew from his mouth when he said, “Shut the hell up, Natalie,” through teeth gritted so tightly they should have all been ground to dust.
Whispers and words revealing shock among the small crowd now circling them, swirled around her. Tuning it all out, she zeroed in on Cyrus. “You should probably start talking right now. What’s going on?”
“Yes, Cyrus. We’d both like to know what the hell is going on,” Natalie added.
This time ignoring their party crasher, Cyrus turned to her. “Tressa. I made a mistake. We can—”
When he reached for her, she backed away. This was the mistake he referenced earlier. “How long?”
When he didn’t answer, Natalie did. “Four months.”
“Four—” The air seized in her lungs.
“Baby—”
Tears stung her eyes, but they were more angry than sentimental ones. “You lying, cheating, no-good, trifling bastard.” She wrenched the ring from her finger and tossed it at him. Eyeing Natalie, she said, “He’s all yours. The wedding is off.”
Cyrus grabbed her arm. “No, you don’t mean that.”
A second later Tony—her three-hundred-pound ex-lineman cousin—clapped a large hand on Cyrus’s shoulder. The look in his eyes suggested Cyrus release her now.
Obviously, Cyrus got the silent message, because his grip on her arm loosened, then fell away.
Several family members—including her visibly livid mother—swarmed around Cyrus like bees on the attack. They stung him with their not-so-gentle words of disapproval. As the room erupted in utter chaos, Tressa made her escape. She’d asked for a sign and, boy, had she got it.
Amid all of the chaos, Roth eyed Tressa weaving her way through the room and toward the exit. She brushed past the outstretched hands of individuals undoubtedly offering their comfort and support. He tore down the stairs after her, but by the time he made it outside, she was nowhere in sight. Where in the hell had she vanished to so damn suddenly?
He squinted against the dark for any sign of movement. Nothing.
When the door banged open behind him and Cyrus’s snake ass slithered out, dragging his hideous mistress behind him, Roth’s jaw tightened in disgust.
Cyrus slid a razor-sharp glance in Roth’s direction. Roth readied himself for a confrontation, but Cyrus only flashed a scornful expression, then escaped in the opposite direction.
After hanging around another half hour or so—just to see if Tressa resurfaced—he decided to head out, leaving instructions for Alonso to call him the minute he heard anything. Yanking open the door of his SUV, Roth slid behind the wheel and slumped in the seat. A part of him wanted to start the engine and follow through with his plans to leave, while another part of him—a much greater portion—wanted to hang back to make sure Tressa was okay.
He abandoned the idea of staying. Tressa definitely didn’t need him to further complicate her life. Given what she’d just gone through, he was certain he was the last person she wanted to see. Not because he’d been in any way responsible for the debacle that had taken place, but because he was a man. And at this point she more than likely hated the entire male species.
And who could blame her? He’d certainly held a discord for the female population when he’d got his heart broken several years ago. Then he’d met Tressa a few months back and feelings he’d long abandoned rushed him like water released from a dam.
Four months.
Roth shook his head. That slimy bastard had cheated on Tressa almost their entire relationship. Via Alonso, he’d learned Tressa and that clown Cyrus had only dated a short time before they’d become engaged. Why even propose if he knew he had no intentions of being faithful?
Why would any man in his right mind sacrifice a woman like Tressa?
Roth recalled the expression on Tressa’s face as she darted from the room. A mix of confusion and pain danced in her usually sparkling eyes. At that moment he really wanted to hurt Cyrus, if for nothing more than dimming her glow.
“Are we leaving?”
Roth jolted, then whipped around to see Tressa stretched across his back seat. What the... How in the hell had he missed seeing her when he’d got in? Preoccupied, he told himself. Damn. She’d nearly given him a heart attack.
Activating the interior lights, he scanned her body as if looking for any damage. When he saw her red, puffy eyes, he fought the urge to climb over the center console and pull her into his comforting arms. And though she had every right to cry, he wanted to advise her not to waste her tears on a lowlife like Cyrus.
Roth’s words were gentle when he spoke. “Everyone is looking for you.”
She hugged her arms around her body. “I don’t want to be found. I can’t handle the looks and whispers right now.”
Being the voice of reason, he said, “People are worried about you, Tressa. They just want to know that you’re all right. You really should—”
“Roth, please. Spare me the lecture. I don’t have my car here. I need to go. Can you just get me away from here? Just drive. Please.” Her voice was low, but screamed of exhaustion.
Tressa’s sad, pleading eyes tugged at his heart. Who could blame her for wanting to avoid being poked and prodded like a lab rat by people’s stares of pity? Facing forward, he cranked the engine, popped the gearshift into Drive and pulled away.
Silence filled the car for the first few minutes. Roth avoided plying her with the usual pacifiers: it’s going to be okay, the pain will go away, look on the bright side. Instead, he stayed quiet because no words could ease the sting of betrayal. Only time could do that.
Roth adjusted the rearview mirror so that it settled on Tressa’s face. He hated seeing her this way, a sad replica of her customarily jovial self. “Maybe we should call Vivian to let her know you’re okay. She was really worried about you.”
Tressa’s eyes landed on his. Even through the reflection, their connection rang intense. Everything and nothing had changed. Though she’d ended her engagement, she was still off-limits. Maybe even more so now.
“I will,” was all she said before sliding her gaze away.
“Should I take you home?”
“No. He’ll probably be at my place. I don’t want to see him. Ever.”
Roth washed a hand over his mouth as if he was ironing his goatee. All he wanted to do was make her smile—laugh even. But he doubted anything he could have said or done would have accomplished that.
“Were you going to the mountains alone?”
An hour ago the answer would have been yes. But once he’d walked away from her on the balcony, he’d discovered a need for something—or in this case, someone—to take his mind off her. Still, he responded, “Yes, I’m going alone.”
“You